Whatever potion Revos had given Allora kept her on her feet for about two hours. Then, she collapsed. Tired and winded, the trio had kept conversation light as they journeyed higher through the foothills but the elf had begun to stumble more and more often as the morning wore on. Still, she insisted that they needed to get as much distance between them and the carnage in their wake as they could. A town that size wouldn’t have any constabulary to speak of, and likely hadn’t seen a squad of Scorpion Guards in weeks, so a search party was unlikely, but it was best to not take chances.
After the tenth time of her going down to a knee as she stumbled, Mitchell was about to insist they stop when she saved him the trouble. This time Allora fell forward onto both hands. She put her feet under her to stand up but they slid out from under her on the loose gravel and she collapsed to the dirt unable to rise again.
“Lethelin!” Mitchell called ahead to the small woman who was about twenty meters ahead as he rushed to Allora’s unmoving form.
Mitchell rolled her over noting a small cut above her left eye where it had been sliced by some sharp bit of rock. She didn’t stir when he lifted her.
“Lora?”
Mitchell pushed some wayward strands of hair out of her shockingly pale face which he now saw was covered in sweat. Her skin was clammy to the touch.
Lethelin, her yulop in tow, arrived and looked down at the unconscious paladin. She had a sour look on her face.
“That woman is as stubborn as a reef carp,” the thief said with a huff.
Mitchell gave her a puzzled look.
“It’s a large fish that lives in reefs on the coast. They’re delicious but almost no one tries to catch them. Not worth the trouble. They thrash about for hours after they’re dead. I’ve heard some even thrash for days. By the time they stop moving, the meat is usually bad.”
Mitchell chuckled.
“That does sound like our girl,” he said. “Can you find us a place out of the wind to rest? We’ll let her sleep for a few hours and push on when she wakes up.”
Lethelin nodded and handed over her waterskin indicating he should give it to Allora. She hooked her yulop’s leash to a bush and set off back up the slope. Mitchell opened up the water skin and tilted it into Allora’s mouth, letting only a few drops in. She swallowed automatically and her eyes fluttered open, struggling to focus. Finally, they settled on his face and then a pained expression twisted her features.
“Father! I failed! I am so sorry!” Allora croaked. Her voice was raspy and weak. “I tried to save Davrys but he was hurt and could not run.”
Her outburst took him completely by surprise.
“Shh,” he said, trying to comfort her. “It’s alright.”
“They were coming and I could not… I–” Her hand reached up and grasped his shirt. Tears were streaming down her face and her violet eyes were pleading for forgiveness and understanding. “My bloodstone was spent and I didn’t have the mana to cast…”
Her whole body was wracked with sobs as the memory overtook her.
“It was the only way,” she said through the sobs. “It was more merciful than what they would have done, father! I’m so sorry!”
She clutched him tightly and buried her face into his chest. Her body vibrated with the power of her grief. Mitchell didn’t know what to say so he only held her tightly and whispered to her that it was okay. He felt the tears soak through his clothes as she cried. Mitchell didn’t know what tortured visions she was seeing in her state, but he wished at that moment that he could take them all from her. He hugged her tighter as her sobs lessened, as if he could pull the bad memories from her through contact alone. Soon, she was still and her body was limp. As he relaxed his arms around her, Mitchell saw she was once again unconscious.
As gently as he could, he laid her back on the ground, slid his pack and jacket off, and placed the jacket under her head in a makeshift pillow. She didn’t stir again. He sat himself down cross legged beside her and took her hand in his. Mitchell studied her tear-streaked face for a long time.
Lethelin returned about twenty minutes later saying she found a small overhang that blocked the wind and it was as good a place as any. Mitchell asked her to take ahold of Marvin and he reached down to pick Allora up. Lethelin arched an eyebrow.
“Wouldn’t be easier to lay her over one of the yulops? Allora isn’t exactly small.”
Mitchell grunted as he settled the unconscious woman across his chest, cradling her to him.
“I’ll be okay,” he told her. “The yulops will jostle her too much.”
Mitchell didn’t want to say that he could already feel the pull in his lower back but he would carry her all the way up the mountain if that’s what it took.
“Watch your step,” Lethelin said as she turned back up the slope. “There’s a lot of loose gravel here. The overhang isn’t far.”
Mitchell began to step carefully over the stones, rocks, and roots that broke up the path but thankfully Lethelin was true to her word. Up and over one more small hill, she led them from the path a short distance to an angular slab of rock that was jutting out from the earth. There was a recess just beneath it about a meter into the ground. As he got closer, he saw remnants of a campfire circle indicating someone else had used this spot for a similar purpose in the past.
He set Allora down and covered her with one of their blankets, then he and Lethelin set about making themselves comfortable. The yulops seemed to understand it was a break and they settled down in almost a yin yang configuration and rested their heads on one another’s rump.
“I’ve never seen animals sleep like that,” Mitchell commented, observing the strange behavior.
“They live in the mountains mostly,” Lethelin said. “They sleep like that to help conserve warmth.”
They settled into a comfortable silence for a while and the only sounds were the rush of the wind and the rustle of the small bushes that grew all over the slopes. From this vantage point, Mitchell could see all the way out to the horizon. The desert that they had crossed looked like an ocean from here and the blowing sand and rising heat gave it the rippling appearance of waves. The sun was about midway towards noon and while he could still feel the heat as their little way spot was facing the east, the steady breeze coming down off the mountains at their backs kept the temperature manageable. The little town looked almost like a model at this height.
Suddenly, Mitchell asked, “What was it like, the first time you killed someone?”
Lethelin was silent for a long moment before answering. Her fingers stopped picking at the hem of her enchanted cloak.
“That man was your first?” she asked finally.
“Yes,” Mitchell replied. He didn’t need to ask who she meant.
She inhaled and let it out slowly.
“His name was Sorvo De Halib,” she began. “He was the son of a Varset merchant lord, although we don’t use that term in Awenor. They’re just merchants, normally. But if they make enough money and befriend the right people, sometimes they can buy the title.”
Mitchell looked at her but she was looking off to the horizon as she recalled the memory, her face empty of expression.
“I had broken into the house to take what I could find. The family was wealthy. The Halibs oversaw the hunting of gretch sharks.”
Before Mitchell could ask what that was, she explained.
“They’re huge beasts that have been known to bite smaller fishing vessels in half. Incredibly dangerous and hard to kill but their hide is worth its weight in crowns and the oils from rendering their fat and bones are used in many alchemical recipes. But the Halibs’ patriarch had developed a method to lull them in some way before the kill and it increased the survival rate of the crews that hunted for their family significantly. Before anyone knew it, they were rolling in crowns and controlled the whole shark trade.”
She looked over at him and smirked.
“I figured they could afford to lose a few trinkets, so I scaled the wall and let myself in to liberate some of their ill-gotten gains.”
“So it wasn’t a job you were hired for?”
“No,” she wobbled her head. “I was just there looking for some pretties. No one was supposed to be home, there was some big function that night at the governor’s house. Just servants left behind and they mostly went to bed after ten bells.”
“So what happened?”
“I was in one of their offices on the third floor of their manor taking anything that glinted in the moonlight when I heard a scream from across the hall,” she said, her voice losing some of its former playfulness. “I tried to ignore it but there was another scream and then a crash. Then weeping.
“I opened up the door and saw light from under a door on the other side of the hall. I could hear someone yelling and the crying was louder. I crept across the hall and, through the wood, I could hear someone laughing. A man. He said, ‘You’re going to suck my cock or I’m going to break out all your teeth and fuck your mouth anyway’.”
Lethelin’s hands balled into fists as she continued.
“The door wasn’t locked, so I eased it open and saw Sorvo, the oldest son of House Halib, with his shirt off and pants loose around his waist standing over the crumpled and bleeding form of some serving girl. She couldn’t have been but fifteen high suns old. He was only eighteen high suns, but he was big. He worked the boats and it had made him strong. He was closer in size to an orcish warrior than a human.”
She saw his look of confusion and reminded him of the baker they’d met in Besari.
“Oh, fuck,” Mitchell said.
“He wasn’t quite that big, but near enough that it made no difference to the girl he was about to rape.”
“Her face was bruised and bleeding, one eye already swelling shut and she was clutching her ripped blouse to her chest. I could have turned and left. She hadn’t seen me and it wasn’t my problem but…”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Lethelin scrunched her face up as if she had swallowed something sour.
“I don’t know… Something about the way he was standing. Like he deserved to do what he wanted. Like her body belonged to him just because she took a job changing bed linens. It made me angry.”
Lethelin looked at him then and he could see that she was expecting reproach for her actions but he only nodded.
“Anyway, before I knew it, Mira was in my hand and I’d slipped up behind him and slid the blade right into his back pierced his heart. The big bucket of chum almost fell back on me as he died but no one came at the noise of his body hitting the floor.”
She went quiet for a time, perhaps reliving the scene in her head.
“So, what happened then? With the girl?”
“Ah, well the sound of his body striking the floor broke the girl out of her paralysis. I rushed over and clamped her mouth shut before she could scream and told her if she wanted to get out of this without being hung herself, she would do exactly as I said. I shoved some crowns in her hand, told her to head to the docks and a tavern called The Ratway and speak to a man named Delvin. Tell him everything, tell him Alvi’s apprentice sent her, and to do whatever Delvin told her to do. Once she ran off, I grabbed whatever I could stuff in my pockets and fled.”
“Did they ever catch her?”
“Nope,” she said, grinning triumphantly. “They put up a search for her but Delvin had her out of the city before dawn. He’s a good fish. Doesn’t take too kindly to people who rough up women.”
Mitchell was glad for that.
“Oh!” Lethelin exclaimed. “And in the investigation, it came out that the good master Sorvo Halib had a history of raping and abusing women but his father had been paying to have it covered up. Other staff came forward and, as the reports grew, it brought more shame onto the house. In the end, Lord Halib sold the business to one of his partners and fled Varset just ahead of an angry mob.”
“So, you brought down one of those merchant lord families?” Mitchell asked her. “I’m impressed.”
She looked at him and blushed slightly.
“I didn’t mean to. It just sort of happened. I was only looking for some stuff to sell to pad my pockets and upgrade my gear. Running the Halibs out of the city was just a side benefit. But I found that killing that walking bit of river slug shit wasn’t all that difficult. And I accomplished some good with it. So, I let it be known that I was available for that sort of work but I would only take jobs for people that I thought deserved it. People like Sorvo.”
Mitchell paused to consider her words.
“And those men we fought in town?” he finally asked her.
She gave him a long look, studying his face for something with her grass-green eyes.
Finally, her voice flat and cold, she said, “I have no illusions about what would have happened to me if you and Allora had fallen. Those men deserved it.”
They were silent for a while as Mitchell thought over what she said. Yes, those men had attacked them. Dakath for sure had been a vicious and cruel son of a bitch, but the others were simply locals. Men he’d hired, guys who didn’t have much to begin with. Did they deserve to be killed in the street? Lethelin and Allora seemed to accept that as a matter of course. Allora had objected to Lethelin killing the guy at the inn who’d been spying on them but he suspected she would not have objected to the deaths of the ones Lethelin had ended. As she had told him just a short time ago, they were instruments of justice. Lethelin had been the instrument of those men’s justice.
Mitchell knew he would be able to do it again if he needed to, but the idea scared him. He was used to a system of justice that did not tolerate vigilantism. He believed in that. He believed that it led to a more ordered and just society. It could be abused, certainly. Money sometimes mattered more than evidence and guilt but, on the whole, it was a net positive for civilization. So, what was he to do with this new reality? It sounded like they had courts after a fashion, and a sense of justice, but then there were battles and deaths like the ones that had happened that morning. In towns or villages without any sort of permanent law and order, was this just how things were handled?
He was about to ask Lethelin more questions about how courts and punishments worked here but, when he looked over at the thief, he found she had nodded off. He couldn’t blame her. Everyone was exhausted. They’d barely gotten any sleep the night before having to flee ahead of the dawn.
Mitchell could feel exhaustion pulling at him but he pushed it aside. He needed to be awake and alert in case Allora awoke. They needed to get some food into her as soon as she could chew. So instead of sleeping he fished one of the books out of his pack that Allora had purchased for him to help him learn to read. It was a children’s story and, according to Allora, it told the tale of a poor human girl who got lost in an ancient forest after fleeing from her dragon overlords. She met a handsome elf prince who took her away to a magical kingdom that was hidden from the dragon’s sight. Once there, she made friends with a band of adventurers that agreed to journey back to the girl’s village and free her family from the dragons.
Allora and Lethelin both had refused to tell him how it ended, saying that he had to learn to read and finish it on his own. Despite himself, he wanted to know.
He opened the book to the first page and started sounding out the words and comparing the sounds to the phonetic cheat sheet that he’d cobbled together with Allora’s help a few days prior. It had a list of the letters of the Common alphabet and the corresponding English vowels, consonants, diphthongs, and digraphs. It was slow going but if Allora was to be believed, they could expect one to two weeks crossing the mountain and so he would have a lot of time.
“Nothing for it but to do it,” he muttered as he began the arduous process of sounding out the words. Thankfully, Allora had secured him a notebook of sorts for him to practice his writing and to make notes of words to review. He had started with those he often used in conversation and had gotten Allora and Lethelin to write them out for him. Over the next few hours, while the two of them slept, he hit the books.
It wasn’t until the sun had passed the zenith that Allora began to stir. Mitchell had begun to nod off himself and almost missed her first utterances but, as she groaned, his head snapped up and he was next to her in a moment, the food he had prepared already in hand.
“I’m here,” Mitchell said as her eyes cracked open and she looked around in a mild state of panic. She was still sweating and her black silken hair was matted to her forehead. “Drink first.”
Upon seeing him, she settled and accepted the waterskin without comment and drinking greedily and swallowing in large gulps until she pulled it away gasping.
“Thank you,” she told him as she handed it back.
“Food,” he said simply, and handed her some dried fruit and nuts.
Once again, she seemed to turn her nose up at the offering, but placed it in her mouth without comment.
“How long did I sleep?” she asked him at last.
Her voice was weak and thready, but on the whole it was an improvement.
“A few hours,” Mitchell replied. “Not too bad. It’s likely to be dark soon, I’m thinking it would be better if we stayed here. No one has come up the path after us so I think we’re safe.”
Allora nodded.
“You may be right. Hiking the slopes at night is not wise.”
They sat in silence for a few moments as he let her eat undisturbed. Her eyes had a faraway look in them as she stared off into the darkening horizon. It was clear she hated the food but she continued to consume it without complaint. Mitchell didn’t know why she wouldn’t like it as it was no different than the rations they’d been eating for weeks, but he thought maybe she was just tired of the simple fare.
Mitchell wanted to ask her about her outburst on the trail but felt like it wasn’t the right time. If she had a memory of it, she didn’t show it and she was under enough strain as it was. Whatever burden she was carrying it wasn’t the right time to try and relieve her of it.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” he told her suddenly.
Reaching into the pouch at his waist he pulled out the three small stones that Dakath had thrown on the ground to taunt Allora before the fight.
When Allora saw them, she went still. Then, almost reverently, she reached out and took them into her pale hands. He saw her eyes begin to water but that was all the emotion she betrayed. One by one, she brought each stone to her lips then her forehead and whispered the same prayer.
“Denass, mother of darkness and watcher of souls, protect this warrior who died defending your child. Please tell them that hope is not lost and that one remains.”
Only when Allora had repeated the ritual for each stone did a single tear drip down from her eye. She cradled them in her palm for a moment, then closed her fist over them, squeezing so tightly Mitchell saw her knuckles turn white. Then she reached for her pack and tucked them into a side pocket.
“Thank you, Mitchell Allen,” she said. “I am glad you brought them.”
“What are they?”
“They are the stones that are set into the pommel of the swords the Onyx Knights carry. They are pieces of Awen. The swords are soul bonded and will serve none but the one who was bonded to it. Most knights are buried or entombed with their blades. They cannot be passed on or used by any other hand. For Dakath to have these stones means he killed three Onyx Knights.”
Mitchell glanced at the sword that lay by her side and which had been wrapped again to hide the stone.
“Well, he’s dead now. If I ever see Revos again, I will have to thank him,” Mitchell said.
“As will I,” Allora said with a mournful note in her voice. “I am ashamed to say I misread him. I thought him nothing more than a scoundrel who served only himself. But, while he is that, there was more to him than I first saw. I owe him a debt. We all do.”
Mitchell already had the impression that one’s word here–one’s honor–carried more weight than it did for most people back home. His mind dredged up language like ‘oath breaker’ from the fantasy books he used to read. When Allora told him they all owed him a debt, Mitchell got the sense that it was deeper than a simple ‘I’ll pick up the tab next time, bro!’. He recalled the way Lethelin had sworn to help them in their quest. It had been serious. Seeing the look on Allora’s face when she talked about owing a debt to the cambion, Mitchell knew he needed to take it seriously, too.
“I agree,” he said in response. “Lethelin and I did pretty well against the men but you were right that we stood no chance against Dakath.”
“I am sorry I was not able to see you in your first battle,” she told him. A hint of a smile played at her lips. “But I am pleased you are not dead.”
He gave her a gracious nod that was only a little sarcastic.
“Me, too,” Mitchell told her with a chuckle. “But I had a good teacher.”
Mitchell reached out and took her hand in his and she interlaced her long fingers between his own. He could feel the callouses on her palm and the strength in her grip.
“I thought…” he began but his voice trailed off. “I thought I was going to lose you. When you went down and didn’t get up. Dakath wrapped Lethelin and me up in a spell, I think the same one you used on Nothok. We couldn’t get to you. I thought I was about to watch you die.”
Despite himself, Mitchell felt his chest begin to tighten and his eyes started to sting. He squeezed her hand tighter.
“I can’t lose you, Lora. None of this means anything unless you are with me.”
Mitchell looked at her, searching her face, her eyes. Hoping. He thought he saw her begin to smile but it was gone and her trademark look of stoic resolve was back in place. Less imposing now since she looked so sickly, but there nonetheless.
“Listen to me, Mitchell Allen,” she said, giving him a stern look. “If I should fall, you must go on without me. This is bigger than one person. Get to the palace in Lorivin. Find a way. Sit upon the Onyx Throne and complete the bond with Awen. Protect her and protect the people. Drive out Milandris and his men. Swear to me that you will do as I ask.
“Lora, I–”
She cut him off.
“Swear it! By the light of Stollar, swear it.”
Mitchell wanted to scream at her, the damn stubborn elf. He had seen it! For just the barest of moments, he had seen it, but she had walled herself off again. He thought about ordering her, as the future king, to admit her feelings for him but he cast that aside almost as soon as he thought it. It would be childish and he knew it.
Instead, he pulled his hand out of hers and for a second her fingers didn’t loosen, but she relaxed her grip. Mitchell looked out at the eastern horizon and saw all was shadow. The sun had dipped behind the mountains and only the faintest glimpse of daylight could still be seen.
“I’m not standing in the sun,” he told her, his voice hard.
“Swear it to me, then.”
Mitchell stood up and glared down at her. He could see the sunlight. That would have to do.
“I, Mitchell Allen, swear it, by Stollar’s light. If you should fall, I will push on and try to make it to the palace and complete the bond. And I swear it to you, Allora De Annen, daughter of Travalor Ne Annen, Lord Captain of the Onyx Knights, and protector of Awen. It will be as my lady commands.”
Mitchell almost spat those last words.
“Satisfied?”
In the fading light he could see that her eyes were wet once again but she only nodded, her lips pressed together so tightly they had lost almost all color. Mitchell turned on his heel and stormed off.
***
Lethelin watched Mitchell stomp down the hill and out of sight. Now that she was awake, her knack would be in effect and Allora would have mostly forgotten about her. Mitchell clearly had. Still, she was only a meter away from the prone knight and, if Allora had bothered to look, she might have pierced the glamor. Much like the cloak that helped hide her movement, if one was close enough, the chances of being detected increased dramatically. But Allora didn’t look.
Instead Lethelin watched the woman’s face twist into a rictus of pain and grief so intense, Lethelin almost went to her to comfort her and she felt her own eyes grow moist at having to witness it. Then, Allora began to sob. She brought her hand up to her chest–the one Mitchell had been holding just a moment before–and, clutching it to herself, curled into a fetal position. She tried to stifle the sobs but a few choking cries still escaped her cracked lips and her body shuddered with the effort.
Lethelin looked away, stunned and embarrassed, and tried to blink her own tears away. This was too raw and too personal. She didn’t want to see anymore but if she moved Allora would detect her. So, the thief sat in the growing darkness hearing the last Onyx Knight weep into the coming night, and wished to be almost anywhere else. The sounds of Allora’s heartache rang in Lethelin’s ears long after the elf had passed out in exhaustion.