Chapter 5
The Wrong Orders
Vesmer 24
Helvent peered through the bushes at the caravan. A huge group of women clothed in white robes and wearing the medallions of Alyara were setting up camp for the evening. A few were lightly armed with staves and the occasional spear or sword, but most were weilding nothing more than their goddess' blessing.
That may be more powerful than the blades, Helevent thought to himself. He slowly shook his head and snuck backward to join the scouting party. A dozen armor clad men stood around him, questions in their eyes.
"It appears the rumors were correct. This is no military party, merely Alyaran ladies on a long journey it would seem. The most danger they present anyone is from sexual exhaustion if you fall into one of their brothels." There was grumbling among a few of the men, shaking of heads and discontented grunts. The others seemed to not care, or laughed at Helevent's words.
"A job is a job, even if it be an easy one as this." This from Luec, a longtime veteran of the Red Hammer. There were nods from many of the other men. "I judge not our jobs. I judge our pay. Perhaps these woman are in need of killin'." More nods and murmers of approval.
"It is true that we are hired to fight. I don't know that we are hired to slaughter a caravan of Alyara's Ladies. We may discuss this when we return to the camp." Helevent lead the scout party away.
It was several hours before they arrived at the Red Hammer's camp. Helevent made a straight line towards his superior's tent, a Lieutenant named Jenz. He explained what he had seen, and his feelings of discontent over what it might mean.
"I'll talk to the commander about it, m'boy," Jenz said as he slapped Helevent on the shoulder. "I've no doubt it is no more than a misunderstanding. Surely it will be cleared up before blood must be shed. Give me a few minutes, then I'll fill you in." Jenz grinned widely and slapped Helevent's shoulder again as he strode towards the commander's tent. The two guards at its entrance moved aside to allow the Lieutenant to enter. Helevent wandered off to get some food while he waited.
The young mercenary was disturbed from his idle chewing a few minutes later by the sounds of the announcement horns. He swallowed a chunk of beef and tossed the remainder of his stew into the fire before jogging toward the commons.
The rest of the camp was milling around as well, annoyed at being disturbed by what would no doubt be another boring and time-consuming motivational speach. They were shocked as a group when they saw Commander Nelegeth approaching the podium, the two guards behind him dragging someone. Helevent pushed himself to the front of the crowd to get a better view. Nelegeth pounded his fists on the podium and yelled out to the crowd. His commanding voice carried easily to the farthest soldiers.
"Insubordination will not be tolerated in the Red Hammer! The battle we will see tomorrow is vital to the security of Damaristan and all the lands. I will hear no more treasonous thoughts about the validity of our cause!" He pounded his fists on the podium again, as spittle flew from his mouth. "You will fight when I tell you and you will not question my decisions!" The commander's normally calm face was furrowed with rage.
The two guards threw the person they were holding to the ground in front of the podium. The man stumbled to his feet, blood dripping from several head wounds onto his face. Jenz's face! Helevent stepped forward, only to step back again as Jenz looked at him and shook his head. His lips moved weakly...
go boy, go away from here... One of the guards pushed Jenz to the ground again as the commander stepped from the podium and approached the now-kneeling soldier.
"I will hear no treasonous words from the mouth of a soldier!" In a lightning quick action Nelegeth's hand unsheathed his glinting steel sword and raised it to the sky. In the blink of an eye it fell, followed by the head of the kneeling soldier. "Back to your labors. Tomorrow, we will battle." The commander turned and strode back from wence he had come. The crowd dispersed, confusion in many faces, fear in many more.
Helevent stared at the body of his mentor and friend as the guards drug it away. He returned to the chow tent, and sat down with a fresh bowl of stew to think over his next action. When he got up dozens of minutes later he had not taken a bite.
Midnight had come and gone when Helevent snuck past the guards at the outskirts of the camp, his pack filled with his belongings and a mental map to the Alyaran camp in his thoughts.
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Vesmer 25
"Stop where you are. Stand up and show me your hands," a female voice broke through the stillness of the night, startling the not-so-stealthy mercenary. He slowly stood from his crouch and turned to his left to see the owner of the voice. A white-robed woman stood in front of him, a spear and small shield in her hands. He raised his hands in front of himself to show he was not armed.
"I must speak to the mistress of your expedition. It is most important." He slowly walked toward the woman, wondering how he had missed her white robes in this environment. Her spearpoint drew a small drop of blood on his throat and he stopped instantly. The woman's hand was steady and the pressure on his throat was constant. His eyes were locked on hers. He felt two hands grab either arm and the spearpoint dropped.
"You will speak to her when morning comes. Consider yourself a prisoner for the time being." Helevent's arguments were to no avail, he was brought to an isolated area and guarded by two staff wielding women. He fell asleep on the ground, bound hand and foot.
"Wake up." A hand shook him gently. Helevent's eyes opened slowly, squinting in the morning light. A white robed woman stood over him, no weapons visible. "My name is Westa, daughter of Alyara. I am sorry for your harsh treatment last night, but our guards have been most wary in this region. I understand you want to see the Mother?" Helevent nodded weakly. The cramped muscles in his neck screamed at him. This "Mother" sounded like a likely candidate as the leader of this group.
The mercenary's bindings were cut and he stood, hands rubbing at the cramped neck muscles. Westa gently moved his hands from the aching muscles and replaced them with her own, standing on her toes to reach the large man's shoulders more easily. Soft words came from her mouth, followed by a growing warmth in her hands. The knots in Helevent's muscles released and felt more relieved than they had in many months. "May The Lady bless you. Let us go see the Mother. What is your name, good man?"
They wandered through the camp, Westa idly chattering at Helevent. Soon they approached a very large tent, decorated with the holy symbols of Alyara and guarded by several spear-wielding women. Westa told Helevent to wait outside as she went in to see the Mother. A minute later she re-emerged and waved the mercenary in.
Helevent ducked into the tent. As his eyes slowly adjustedhe could make out the form of an elderly lady sitting in a plain chair near the center of the tent. Several other chairs surrounded her, a couple taken up by younger women. Westa pointed to one chair and whispered to Helevent that he should seat himself. She then left the tent. Helevent sat.
"I am the Mother. Please tell us what you must. And please, speak truth only," the elderly woman said. One of the woman seated next to her had her eyes closed and seemed lost in concentration.
A truth spell of some kind the mercenary thought.
He proceeded to tell them of the recent events in his company, concentrating on the danger now present to the lady's band. Questions and answers followed, the change in personality of Commander Nelegeth seemed to be of great importance to the Mother. They were an hour into the conversation when shouts were heard from outside.
"Perhaps your warning has come to become fact. Come with me, Helevent." The Mother stood, followed by the other two ladies and Helevent. They left the tent to see a lopsided battle already occuring.
