"How much further?"

The words had became the chorus to some song Mason didn't know he hated. They swept the pack of civilians like a marching band, apparently not interested in the answer, or else hoping it would change.

“Awhile,” Mason said, or some variation. And, when that stopped working: "Until we're there.”

They'd been following the river now for at least a few hours. It was getting dark and a piece of Mason knew they should stop and make camp because there wasn't much moon and the girls might start tripping and hurting themselves.

But he couldn't shake the feeling they were being followed—that not far away on their heels was some pack of murderous beasts that would kill every last one of them if they didn't reach Nassau and safety.

So what the hell should he do?

March. All night and however long until the next day until they made safety. He knew that was the right answer. They had a few flashlights and could make their way well enough. Not well, but well enough. If they had to carry someone who'd broken an ankle, they would. If too many got hurt...

Leave them behind. That was the right answer if he wanted the most amount of people to live. If his intuition was correct. Better to lose one or two people then everyone. But could they abandon someone that was basically family? Could he?

"Listen, kid." Carl moved up beside Mason and put a hand behind his neck. "I know you want to push to Nassau, and I get it. But these girls are civilians and not exactly used to marching through the woods. I don't think we can do that. Hell, after the last few days I've had, I'm not sure I can do it."

Mason ground his teeth and looked at the dull light still staining the canopy red. He sniffed the air and closed his eyes.

"It's going to rain tonight." He knew it in his bones the same way he knew what wolves and worms were trying to say. He looked at the map overlaying his vision through the Wayfinder power, checking the terrain all around them.

He'd been through this way twice now and saw most everything.

"There's some rocky hills. Cliffs. Outcroppings ahead that you can rest under and not get soaked. Get to the little fork going East and follow it. You'll find them."

"You're going back?" Carl said with a sigh. "They might not be following us at all, kid, and you need to rest. Even with your weird glowing eyes I can see the veins."

Mason blinked and knew the man was right. His mind was slipping, his vision was getting blurred. He kept seeing things that weren’t there, or else staring at the same thing for minutes before he remembered to look away.

A dull ache pulsed in his head and if he didn't sleep soon he knew he wouldn't be able to think straight.

"Shit."

He looked at the spot he wanted with Wayfinder.

"Alright. We'll sleep until morning by the cliffs, and hope for the best. Let's move."

* * *

Chief Graak marched beside his warriors. His contract with Tuvek had vanished, and so he had known his scouts were dead before he found them. Even so, as he looked at the bodies, his anger threatened to overwhelm him.

The bulk of his uncle's force was still en route from the tower. But he had fifty warriors and fifteen Struthio riders who had reached him in advance of the main body.

Now he had to decide: did he send the riders ahead, or keep them with the main group? Did he try to find and kill this Mason Nimitz on the road with the other civilians in the open? Or take his time, and simply attack the next human settlement with his entire force?

That was where they were fleeing. It was obvious, or else they wouldn’t have followed the river at all. They’d have fled deeper into the woods, perhaps even scattering to be all but impossible to find.

But no. They had followed the river. They had stood and fought the scouts. Which means it was easy for them, or because they feared them too much to leave them alive. Graak was beginning to suspect the next human settlement would be much stronger than the first. Perhaps a handful of champions, though likely all weaker than this wizard.

But if he could do it…

In a single blow, Graak would receive the favor of the gods, become a lord of the towers, and take a second settlement. He would be the greatest orc chief in at least two generations. And maybe ever.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

So he had made his decision. This Mason was a tempting prize, but Graak could have everything. The ambition of it was too much and sat in his gut like rotten meat, but he felt…driven beyond himself, almost compelled.

He would save his forces and attack the settlement with overwhelming strength. He would destroy all the humans in the forest at once.

Graak inspected the corpses of his dead scouts while his warriors waited.

The enemy had ripped apart the snakes and pulled out their venom sacks. Did that mean they wanted to poison their weapons? Graaak doubted it. It was a poor venom for contact, useful only when swallowed or injected.

Orc shamans, though, could make spells with such things. He expected the wizard could do something similar, but he did not express such concerns to his men. They were troubled enough by the many corpses and the butchered snakes.

“He used magic,” said Arkar, the Captain of the Struthio riders, pointing at the charred splotch of grass near Tuvek’s corpse.

“Yes.” Graak said, then spoke loud enough to be heard by the others. “But it killed none of the scouts. His magic is weak. He kills with blades and bow. And I fear neither. Do you?”

His warriors roared in answer, their morale high after the victory at the settlement, and enraged at the corpses of their fellows. Graak wavered in his decision to take the wizard now. A confident, angry orc was far better than one who wasn’t. He may waste the opportunity if he let them cool.

This wizard seemed alone, or nearly. And of course it was far better to kill him before he rested, before he reached the others, sitting on the wall with his arrows and magic again. Graak could kill him and claim the reward, and still take the settlement after—a gift for one of his new vassals with his tower lordship.

He looked at the orcs ready to chase, ready to kill. So be it. He would ignore the nagging feeling that told him to wait. This was the way. The method that suited his nature.

“Infantry—double march. We reach them before they escape, and kill them all. Riders—spread out and lead us, watch for signs. But do not engage this wizard. Sound the alarm if you find any of them. Go!”

Arkar nodded and clicked for his men, the scaled Struthio’s screeching as they trotted off into the trees.

For Clan Blacktusk. For the Gods. And for his own glory.

Graak marched to his destiny.

* * *

Mason and the people of Sanctuary moved through the woods at a jog. A light rain had already begun, a cold mist making many of the girls shiver from something other than fear. Mason desperately fought the urge to race full speed ahead, knowing he'd lose and exhaust the others just when they might need their strength the most.

He listened and watched, knowing and even feeling many living things now not far away. The forest fluttered at their passage—birds and other animals hiding and scattering as they came through.

Finally Streak emerged from a break in the trees. Mason had sent him back to scout for pursuers, trusting the wolf to easily find them when he was finished. Seeing the wolf alone, he let out an anxious breath and lowered his bow, stopping the party with a raised hand as the animal ran to him.

[What did you see?] he used Speak with Nature, wanting exact details. [Were you followed?]

Maybe, the wolf growled, bringing that anxious feeling right back. Many green men in the forest. Some riding…lizard birds.

Lizard birds? Great. That sounded vaguely like ‘dinosaur’ to Mason, which he wasn’t at all sure was better than giant snakes. He was deciding exactly what to do and if they should still try and rest soon when a creature burst through the trees.

It looked like an orc riding a strange sort of ostrich. The creature stopped and stared through the mist looking about as surprised as anyone. Mason didn't hesitate.

It was a difficult shot. Maybe 80 yards, and the lizard-ostrich’s head was in the way. Not even wasting the time to Nature’s Wrath, Mason just loosed a Power Shot straight at the rider's chest.

And hit the bird. The animal twisted with brutal force, flapping and shrieking as it collapsed and spilled the rider. Mason was already moving forward to finish him. Then the orc hid behind the flailing body of its mount, lifted a horn to his lips, and blew.

The sound sent birds flapping from the nearby trees. It went long and clear until Mason had moved far enough to close the angle, loosing an arrow into the rider's throat and silencing the sound.

[Black Tower Struthio Rider killed. Experienced awarded.]

For a moment everything seemed still and silent. Mason imagined somehow the others hadn't heard, or maybe there was only a few such riders scouting the woods. The fantasy shattered as another horn blew in the distance. Then another. All leading towards the river.

"They're here. And not that far away."

He gestured for Streak and activated Speak with Nature.

[Go back and lead them towards Nassau. Make them follow you. Then find Blake and the others.]

The wolf whined and growled in something that translated to ‘but I don’t want to!’, then he barked at the civilians and ran. Mason grinned as he watched the wolf go, affection and concern fighting in his gut.

Then he turned to the others and gestured ahead. "We should start running, get as far away from the horn blast as we can. It’s straight North from here, but I need to go deal with riders. And I’m taking Carl. Can you manage, Silvie?"

The ‘mayor’ of Sanctuary stared with something like terror in her eyes. But she mastered it and nodded.

“You’ll be alright,” Mason said a bit softer. “But we need to draw them away. And we have to kill those riders. Ready?"

The older man turned to Silvie, who clung to him like a life raft. Mason could see the concern and maybe love in her eyes as Carl slowly peeled away her fingers.

"You can do it. And I won't stray far. Nassau has men coming, they'll find us soon."

Mason could see all the things she wanted to say, all the protest. But she was a leader and a hard woman and she locked it all away without a word.

"Let's go girls."

Mason took a few breaths as he waited until the citizens moved a little ahead. Then he looked to Carl.

"Ever play any soccer?"

"Uh...a little...but I'd really prefer a football or possibly a baseball..."

"I'm sweeper,” Mason interrupted. “You're defence. Stay near the girls, but not too near. I'll roam and try and get them turned. But if they slip through, you need to end them. "

Carl blinked red, exhausted eyes and wiggled his broken nose.

"Clear enough."

"Don't let them blow those fucking horns anywhere near your girls, Carl.” Mason said with a little more fire. “They die fast and hard and they don’t see you. You get me, Glassassin?"

Carl grinned at that. "I get you, kid. Let's do it.”