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Remembering the relic’s influence over nearby leaders, I gave Greenie my Dark Room rope. “Make sure you sleep inside here. Your brother won’t be able to read your dreams while you sleep.”

As Greenie and I left the orrery, I spotted Yula, Jahid, and Rachel leaving the barbican and hailed them. “Yula, I’m taking Jasper to retrieve Iris. I’m putting Greenie in charge of the settlement.”

When I explained the situation, the orc huntress nodded. “Horse cannot move fast een deep forest. I will go.” She turned to Greenie. “I will go at Great Governor Greenie’s permit.”

Greenie nodded before I could respond.

Yula turned to Jahid. “Jourdain commands unteel we return.” She cast a spell that caused my feet to tingle, and a new icon appeared in my interface.

Buff

Of the Ground

You gain immunity from Exhaustion on natural terrain.

Duration

6 hours or until you enter combat.

Casting Detect Magic revealed Yula’s magic to be an aura, an effect radiating from her. To receive it, I needed to stick close.

Yula gestured at the barbican and the orrery. “Keep from buildings, or magic goes away.”

“Gotcha. If we can run, we can catch up. Luckily, Iris’s Drill Speed buff didn’t work on the commander, but she still has a few hours on us. How often can you cast this?”

“Once a day.”

I nodded to my traveling companion, and we ran north through Hawkhurst Meadow. The last buildings we passed before heading into the forest included the mercenary’s guild house and support structures.

I unsummoned Beaker before reaching the forest. Despite his keen eyes, he acted unpredictably. Without the safety of the Dark Room, I wanted to avoid attracting goblins. A griffon circling overhead or screeching his head off would give away our position.

Running with immunity to Exhaustion felt strange at first, but it grew old after a few minutes, and I soon forgot what it felt like to grow tired from exertion.

The threat of stumbling overshadowed my newfound energy. It required concentration to avoid tripping on tree roots or slipping in puddles on the forest trail. It taught me firsthand why I shouldn’t run horses through forests—one misstep could ruin their legs.

I pulled out Gladius Cognitus and admired the thin streak of light left behind. “I don’t suppose you know things like the caravan’s fate or how far Iris is from us?”

My sword vibrated in response. “Of the seven types of knowledge, a priori is my weakest suit.”

“A priori?”

“It’s abstract thought, reasoning ungrounded by experience or familiarity.”

“I hoped you could magically detect things. Moving this fast through the forest is a little unnerving. I’d like to know what we’re running into beforehand.”

Yula, running next to me, gestured at the ribbon of light, implicit disapproval in her expression. I looked back and saw a long line of light broadcasting our passing.

“Oh, I’m sorry. The trail goes away when I sheath him.” After slipping Gladius Cognitus back into my scabbard, the long squiggle of light winked out of existence.

Yula focused on her footing, frequently making long jumps when going downhill. She moved faster and left behind fewer tracks. She also avoided plants, something I parroted while maintaining the 8-mile-per-hour pace. At this rate, we’d be halfway to Basilborough before her buff expired.

Immunity from Exhaustion did little to satisfy our caloric requirements or appetites, so we stopped to eat once every few hours. The mess I made eating while running surpassed only the folly of drinking. When Yula saw me spilling water across my face, she stopped and uncorked her waterskin. We washed down foodstuffs with drinks before renewing our chase.

Four hours after we left, I spotted the wreckage of an overturned cart. The torodons pulling them lay dead in a tangle of harnessing. Wounds covered their bodies. Aside from a few torn sacks and strips of torn cloth, we found no signs of merchants, guards, or cargo.

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We entered a pine forest that the game interface dubbed Quietwood, an environment similar to where the arc weaver fashioned a maze. But the pine trees looked young, only a dozen feet tall. Deciduous trees towered above them—half bare from the seasonal fall. The dead leaves crunched as we walked, making the Quietwood appellation somewhat of a misnomer.

Yula flattened her palm and made a sideways slicing motion toward nearby bushes, calling my attention to drag marks through the foliage. I walked behind her to avoid spoiling the trail, letting her read the ground.

While I wasn’t a slouch at survivalism, I stood nowhere near my companion’s skill rank. A person didn’t need wilderness skills to see goblin footprints everywhere, yet the chaos of it convinced me to defer to Yula’s expertise.

Trails strayed from the main path, and squat pine trees blocked our vision.

After she pointed out trails through the underbrush, we found Iris on the ground, red-faced but unable to cry anymore.

Beyond her lay a freshly dug mound of dirt. From her limp posture, I knew the grave belonged to Fletcher.

Yula surprised me by crouching and hugging Iris, who swayed like a rag doll in the orc’s arms.

I took in the scene. The lack of wear on her armor showed Iris had missed the combat, and I breathed a silent prayer of thanks. She might disagree, but the only result of her participation would have amounted to another grave.

She’d dragged the bodies of her former guards and merchants to this lonely place. I recognized Sami and Val among the eleven corpses, including unfamiliar merchants.

I sat beside them. “We all loved Fletcher very much. He was a good friend—to me and to everyone.”

Iris looked up briefly but held in whatever she meant to say. We held her while she cried. As night fell, Yula built a fire while Iris and I leaned against one another. Yula and I ate but couldn’t convince Iris to touch the food.

Using Dig, I quietly buried the remaining bodies and took turns with Yula in keeping watch during the night. Thankfully, Iris fell asleep and didn’t wake until morning.

The enemy’s tracks showed them returning to the east, though we stayed along the caravan trail on our return to Hawkhurst. We moved at a painfully slow pace, but Iris showed no signs of needing to stop. She walked as if in a state of slumber with eyes downcast.

I gave Greenie the Dark Room because we could always outrun them, especially with Yula’s wilderness powers, but Iris moved as if unaware of her surroundings. I didn’t know how she’d react if we encountered goblins.

Thankfully, we made it back to Hawkhurst unmolested before nightfall.

Fletcher once spoke about the dangers of complacency on patrol. He warned me against taking regular routes. Ambushes became a more significant threat on familiar ground. He explained false feelings of safety lulled soldiers into vulnerable habits. A benign bush one day might conceal an enemy the next. As we neared Hawkhurst, I forced myself to pay extra attention to our surroundings.

We, at last, cleared the tree line to Hawkhurst Meadow, passing stumps and coal mounds in the waning light of day. A light inside the guild house told us where Lloyd slept. He must have known something had happened. The other mercenaries stayed in the barbican, unable to lure Fletcher’s father away from his home.

Iris shuffled toward the guild house’s front door, working its lock mechanism. The rest of the building looked secure, shuttered, and closed, as if bracing for bad news. I didn’t foresee any way to deter her. She valued privacy more than security. The Sternways didn’t need another night in a crowded, noisy tower.

After Iris disappeared inside, I turned to Yula and lowered my voice. “I’m going to watch over Iris and Lloyd tonight. Go to town and break the news to the guards. Tell everyone we’re back. Tell Greenie to promote me back to the governor. He won’t have to sleep in the Dark Room. If there are emergencies, I’ll be at the guild house, or Greenie can send messages through the Switching Gloves. I’ll have mine on.”

The orc nodded and quickly moved south through town and toward the barbican. After barring the guild house door, I reheated a stew from my inventory while Iris broke the news to Lloyd in the building’s residential rooms.

Hearing their muffled cries and conversation through the thin walls made me feel intrusive—like I eavesdropped on a private matter. It made me uncomfortable, but I wouldn’t leave. I sat on their dining bench behind empty bowls during the long hours of mourning.

Iris eventually emerged from the private apartments.

We hugged and sat down. I urged her to eat, but Iris only poked at the food.

“Lloyd’s sleeping now or trying. He knew something before I returned, but I told him what I’d found in Quietwood. I told him Fletcher rests in a tranquil location, though it’s no comfort to a father.”

“Or grandfather.”

Iris gave me a wan smile. “He’s resilient, that one. And with a grandchild on the way, I expect to see a twinkle return to his eyes. I made him promise to help raise the little one. I’m not as young as I used to be. Guildmastering and motherhood won’t mix well, and he’ll be a great help.”

I nodded.

Iris grabbed my hand and thanked me for everything.

I ushered her upstairs to her quarters. Along the way, she gestured to a bunk. “That’s Sami’s rack—you can sleep here for the night.” We hugged and thanked one another before retiring to our respective quarters. I set my interface alarm for early morning. Lloyd would probably be up early, and I wanted to ensure he and Iris had a home-cooked breakfast when they awoke.

I found Sami’s bed more comfortable than Iris’s parting words. She spoke as if we’d survive this goblin dilemma. I wasn’t so sure about our options. Rezan held a knife to our throat. Goblins knew humans couldn’t stay put, and cutting off our trade route spelled disaster for the settlement.

Retreating across the river incurred risks. If Resan destroyed the manor, the settlement’s seat of power, we might lose our Amphibious power before swimming to the eastern shore. To stop everyone from drowning, I needed to stay back and hold the enemy off until everyone reached dry land. I only hoped my trident didn’t disappear, too.

I drew Gladius from his sheath. “I’m in a bind, pal, and need to pick your big brain. What do you think Rezan’s next move will be?”

The blade’s vibrations weren’t loud, and its replies wouldn’t disturb the guild house’s other occupants. “You wish me to speculate the possessed goblin’s moves?”

“I do. I’m completely out of ideas, and you’re the only one I can tell.”

“Monarchs learn to be resourceful. King Rezan would be remiss not to use his power base. I would expect him to level up his goblins with every passing night. Eventually, he would have enough warriors to attack en masse, as is their nature. That’s how I would defeat Hawkhurst and capture Esol—or, as you call him, Greenie.”

I grunted. Even on the forest’s edge, I felt vulnerable. Goblins could move and strike inside the wilderness. Sune Njal had warned me of their ability to tunnel behind enemy lines.

While drifting asleep in the deepest hours of the night, a soft chime alerted me to my recent promotion to Hawkhurst’s leadership. The sounds chimed every time someone returned control of the settlement to me. I hadn’t noticed that Greenie only promoted me to lieutenant governor.