Menu
News
All News
Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
Pathfinder
Starfinder
Warhammer
2d20 System
Year Zero Engine
Industry News
Reviews
Dragon Reflections
Columns
Weekly Digests
Weekly News Digest
Freebies, Sales & Bundles
RPG Print News
RPG Crowdfunding News
Game Content
ENterplanetary DimENsions
Mythological Figures
Opinion
Worlds of Design
Peregrine's Next
RPG Evolution
Other Columns
From the Freelancing Frontline
Monster ENcyclopedia
WotC/TSR Alumni Look Back
4 Hours w/RSD (Ryan Dancey)
The Road to 3E (Jonathan Tweet)
Greenwood's Realms (Ed Greenwood)
Drawmij's TSR (Jim Ward)
Community
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Resources
Wiki
Pages
Latest activity
Media
New media
New comments
Search media
Downloads
Latest reviews
Search resources
EN Publishing
Store
EN5ider
Adventures in ZEITGEIST
Awfully Cheerful Engine
What's OLD is NEW
Judge Dredd & The Worlds Of 2000AD
War of the Burning Sky
Level Up: Advanced 5E
Events & Releases
Upcoming Events
Private Events
Featured Events
Socials!
Twitch
YouTube
Facebook (EN Publishing)
Facebook (EN World)
Twitter
Instagram
TikTok
Podcast
Features
Top 5 RPGs Compiled Charts 2004-Present
Adventure Game Industry Market Research Summary (RPGs) V1.0
Ryan Dancey: Acquiring TSR
Q&A With Gary Gygax
D&D Rules FAQs
TSR, WotC, & Paizo: A Comparative History
D&D Pronunciation Guide
Million Dollar TTRPG Kickstarters
Tabletop RPG Podcast Hall of Fame
Eric Noah's Unofficial D&D 3rd Edition News
D&D in the Mainstream
D&D & RPG History
About Morrus
Log in
Register
What's new
Search
Search
Search titles only
By:
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Menu
Log in
Register
Install the app
Install
The
VOIDRUNNER'S CODEX
is LIVE! Explore new worlds, fight oppressive empires, fend off fearsome aliens, and wield deadly psionics with this comprehensive boxed set expansion for 5E and A5E!
Community
Playing the Game
Story Hour
War of the Burning Sky - The Novel
JavaScript is disabled. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding.
You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly.
You should upgrade or use an
alternative browser
.
Reply to thread
Message
<blockquote data-quote="RangerWickett" data-source="post: 5135360" data-attributes="member: 63"><p><strong><span style="font-size: 15px">Chapter Nine</span></strong></p><p></p><p>An hour of quick trotting – the fastest Kathor trusted the horses in the snowy terrain – got them to the cross trail which supposedly led to the bounty hunter camp. They had spotted sporadic tracks of Torrent and the others along the way, but here the snow was churned from many feet.</p><p></p><p>“There’s only twelve of them, right?” Rantle said.</p><p></p><p>Kathor nodded. “We stick to the mage’s plan.”</p><p></p><p>“Keep this quick,” Diogenes said. “It’s another twenty miles or more to the fire forest, and we’re not safe until we’re inside.”</p><p></p><p>Rantle grinned. “You’re right. A forest of endless fire? Only madmen would go in there.”</p><p></p><p>“I said it was a good plan,” Diogenes said. “I never denied it was mad. Let’s go. At least the fire forest won’t be so damned cold.”</p><p></p><p>“Follow close,” Kathor said to Diogenes.</p><p></p><p>Then Kathor spurred his horse, and Rantle stayed alongside, leaving Diogenes behind with the spare horses.</p><p></p><p>The mountain road had once been broad and well-tended, but dead brush narrowed the uneven trail. It rose and dipped every few hundred feet, and scattered pine trees made for too many ambush points, but after five minutes Rantle spotted smoke ahead, and a short ride later the trail opened up into a small box canyon, fifty feet across surrounded by carved walls twenty feet high. </p><p></p><p>Two men who had been tending the campfire in the center of the camp’s half-dozen tents stood and aimed crossbows at them as they rode into view. Kathor reined his horse to a stop and raised a hand to calm the men.</p><p></p><p>“Get Renard,” Kathor said.</p><p></p><p>Sounds of stirring came from the tents, and Rantle quickly scanned the area. Not a canyon, he realized, but a quarry, barely dug out. Various tools for capture sat scattered around the camp, ranging from nets and manacles to small kegs of oily pitch and bear traps. In the quarry’s far corner a rough-cut set of stairs rose up as the only other exit. Four black horses stood near it, huddled under heavy winter blankets.</p><p></p><p>Along the quarry’s right wall he spotted the cages. Normally, as a quarry was dug out, the miners would carve cubbies into the walls, which the city would use to store unopened urns after each year’s festival, protecting the citizen’s wishes with iron bars and chained locks. </p><p></p><p>They had apparently made convenient cells. </p><p></p><p>Rantle raised a hand to shade his eyes, and could make out the forms of three prisoners sitting in one of the caves. Torrent, her white hair standing out easily, shifted at the sound of their arrival, but just then a man stepped out from a tent on the left side of the quarry. Rantle looked away from the caves, hoping the prisoners wouldn’t spoil their ruse.</p><p></p><p>“Kathor,” the man said, “you just ruined our little nap.”</p><p></p><p>A few heads poked out of the other tents, curious but groggy-eyed.</p><p></p><p>“Renard,” Kathor said. “Bad news.”</p><p></p><p>Renard carried himself with a cocky swagger that reminded Rantle too much of his own guildmaster. Slender in a black leather rider’s outfit, the man’s too-large eyes and nose almost made Rantle snicker, but he restrained himself when he saw he held a shoulder quiver and a recurved horsebow. Better not to upset the man, he decided.</p><p></p><p>With criminal suspicion, the rest of the bounty hunters lurked at their tent flaps, some wearing sword belts, most grimacing at the cold air. In the whole quarry, Kathor was the only one wearing actual armor, and aside from Renard appeared to be the only trained soldier.</p><p></p><p>“Who’s that?” Renard said. He raised his head slightly, pointing with his chin to Rantle.</p><p></p><p>Rantle leaned forward with a cocky smile. “I’m <em>not</em> the bad news.”</p><p></p><p>Kathor spared him a short warning glare, then looked back to the rest of the bounty hunters. No one spoke, waiting for Kathor.</p><p></p><p>“You know the Ragesians attacked Gate Pass last night,” Kathor said. “When we were supposed to be capturing a den of mages, they were dropping sorcery on us. The mages got away, and most of my men were burned to death. This one here is Rantle. He was with me, and we were the only survivors.”</p><p></p><p>“I don’t recognize him,” Renard said. “Recruited him in Gate Pass, did you?”</p><p></p><p>Kathor nodded idly. “I couldn’t do much in the city with just one man and no leads, so here we are. I think one of your prisoners over there was actually my target last night.”</p><p></p><p>Renard grinned and swaggered halfway to the cells.</p><p></p><p>“You don’t know how much these three put up a fight,” Renard laughed. “Like they thought we were going to kill them, or as much. Real tragedy about your men, Kathor, but I suppose now we don’t have to split the bounty quite so much. Don’t worry. Even if you didn’t bring me any mages, I’m not angry against you.</p><p></p><p>“Actually,” he continued, “it’s good to have you back. Torchies sent word they’d be sending one of their skull-divers tonight, so every sword who can make sure they don’t get any ideas is a good thing.”</p><p></p><p>Kathor nodded.</p><p></p><p>Renard tapped on the bars of the cell Torrent and the others sat crammed inside, and the three prisoners tensed warily. Torrent was the only one watching the conversation, though.</p><p></p><p>“Too meager,” Renard said. “I think after this group, we head some place warmer, a real city, and enjoy the silver we earned.”</p><p></p><p>The other bounty hunters chuckled. Renard backed away from the cells and waved a broad backhand at them.</p><p></p><p>“Get back in your tents and get to sleeping. We don’t know how late the torchies will be coming, and anybody who sleeps on watch tonight gets handed over along with the mages.”</p><p></p><p>With a few quiet mutterings and jokes, the other bounty hunters slipped back into their tents. Renard watched them for a moment, then kicked through the bars of the cell, striking the hunched jispin man in the back and sending him sprawling. Renard grinned and swaggered back to his tent, but stopped at its entrance.</p><p></p><p>He frowned at Kathor. “Why are you two still sitting on your horses? Is there some problem?”</p><p></p><p>“No tent,” Kathor said.</p><p></p><p>Renard pointed at an unoccupied tent near the latrine. “That one’s free. Get your arses asleep.”</p><p></p><p>Rantle looked around, waiting for Diogenes to make his move, but nothing happened. Nervously he dismounted, not wanting to raise suspicion, and he kept watching Kathor, wondering if he had betrayed them. Kathor dismounted too.</p><p></p><p>“I’ll handle the horses,” Kathor said. “Wait for me in the tent. I need to talk to Renard.”</p><p></p><p>On edge, Rantle did as Kathor said, only taking his knife and sword as he headed to tent. He circled along the right side of the camp, intending to pass the caves to see how Torrent and the others were, but along the way he heard quiet snores coming from each tent, even though the bounty hunters had only gone to their tents a few moments earlier.</p><p></p><p>The two crossbowmen sitting near the campfire ignored him, but he made sure not to get too close to the cells, just in case. When he glanced in the prisoners’ direction, though, the young black-haired woman clambered to the bars of the cell, and reached out as best she could with her hands manacled on a short chain to her feet.</p><p></p><p>“Help us, please,” she said. “I know you from last night. You helped-”</p><p></p><p>“No, Sorra,” Torrent hissed. “Get back.”</p><p></p><p>Sorra shook her head. “But last night he was at the tavern! He saved us from the other bounty hunters. Why would he be working with them now?”</p><p></p><p>The crossbowmen looked his way, and Renard had turned away from Kathor to come see what was going on. Rantle spun and glared at Sorra.</p><p></p><p>“Shut up!” he whispered as loudly as he dared. Then louder, “What the hell are you talking about? I ought to kill you for what you did to my friends last night.”</p><p></p><p>Renard shouted, “What’s this? Tell the little trollop to shut her spare hole. They need to save their breaths for screamin’ when the torchies get their hands on him.”</p><p></p><p>He slung his quiver over his shoulder and drew a long knife, advancing on the cells. In the center of the camp, the guards held their crossbows laxly, their eyes on Rantle. </p><p></p><p>At the entrance to the camp and out of the bounty hunters’ sight, Kathor quietly remounted his horse, and he had hefted his greatsword in one hand. Rantle met Kathor’s eyes, and the knight cocked his head in the direction of Renard.</p><p></p><p>Bow in one hand, knife in the other, Renard walked up to Rantle and slightly past him. He kicked at Sorra’s fingers where she held the bar.</p><p></p><p>“My men are trying to sleep!” he yelled.</p><p></p><p>Sorra was whimpering in pain, and Rantle wasn’t willing to wait any longer. Renard’s back was to him, so he snapped his own knife out of its sheath, reached in with his left hand, grabbed the bounty hunter by his forehead, and drove the dagger down into the man’s throat.</p><p></p><p>“Holy hell!” shouted a guard.</p><p></p><p>The two guards swung their crossbows up and aimed at Rantle, and he spun, still holding Renard’s flailing form as a shield. Kathor spurred his horse into a charge just as the guards fired. One bolt flew wide, and the other struck Renard in his chest. Then, well before the guards would have been able to draw weapons, Kathor’s horse rammed one, trampling him down into the fire, and Kathor brought his two-hander down into the other guard’s head, slicing through and sending a spurt of blood into the air as the man collapsed.</p><p></p><p>“Get his keys!” Kathor shouted.</p><p></p><p>Expecting the rest of the camp to leap from the tents at any moment to attack, Rantle threw Renard to the ground face-down, planted a knee in his back, and began tearing through his belt pouches and pockets looking for the key to the cells. The crossbow bolt in Renard’s chest snapped when he landed, and the bug-eyed man shook but put up no real fight. </p><p></p><p>In the background, Rantle was faintly aware of the sound of hooves trampling a man to death, and of Torrent trying to explain to Sorra that Rantle was on their side. But there was no sound of other warriors coming, and a moment later Diogenes’s voice echoed through the quarry in a pervasive whisper.</p><p></p><p>“You’ll wake them up. Be quiet.”</p><p></p><p>Rantle looked around curiously, and Kathor calmed his horse so it would stop stamping the guards. Torrent and Sorra were still jabbering, but Rantle hushed them, and soon the quarry fell silent, except for the faint snoring of those bounty hunters still in their tents.</p><p></p><p>“Diogenes?” Rantle asked.</p><p></p><p>“I’m here,” he said from nearby. “I’m staying invisible for now in case your yelling managed to wake any of them up. I gave them each a fairly strong suggestion to stay asleep, though, so as long as they don’t think they’re in danger, we should be safe.”</p><p></p><p>“Huh,” Rantle said. “Good job. Torrent, are you all alright?”</p><p></p><p>“We’ll live,” she said. “They beat Rivereye, but if you can get us our packs, Sorra can tend to him. They’re in their leader’s tent.”</p><p></p><p>Rantle, busy searching the still twitching body of Renard, looked to Kathor and nodded in the direction of the tent. As Kathor dismounted, footsteps appeared in the snow nearby, and Rantle smelled cigarette smoke.</p><p></p><p>“That’s a little strange,” Rantle said.</p><p></p><p>“So says the thief looting a still-living man,” Diogenes said. “Could you just kill him and get this over with?”</p><p></p><p>Rantle grimaced, closed his eyes, and jammed his knife into the side of Renard’s skull. Sorra gasped and looked away.</p><p></p><p>Rantle said, “The plan was for <em>you</em> to nick the keys and open the cell, so we’d fight them together.”</p><p></p><p>“They had already been ordered to sleep,” Diogenes said. “It’s bad form to pass up an opportunity like this. Now, I am a little weary from affecting so many at once. Can we speed this up?”</p><p></p><p>“Sure,” Rantle said roughly. “He’s much easier to search when he’s dead.”</p><p></p><p>Finally he found a pair of keys, and he was able to open the lock on the cell, then unlock the manacles on Torrent, Sorra, and Rivereye. Etched writing circumscribed the cuffs in a pair of concentric circles. Rantle glanced to Torrent, curious.</p><p></p><p>“The inquisitors make these,” she said. “If you use magic while wearing them, it burns you with your own mana.”</p><p></p><p>Diogenes’s voice said, “Infernal bonds? We’re bringing those with us.”</p><p></p><p>Sorra shuddered and glared in the direction of Diogenes.</p><p></p><p>“They’re used for torture,” she said.</p><p></p><p>Diogenes chuckled and turned visible, light seeping back into his form as he exhaled smoke.</p><p></p><p>“I’ve always wondered what it’s like to torture an inquisitor,” he said. “Don’t get qualms now. We need every resource we can get.”</p><p></p><p>Kathor came over with a bundle of bags, packs, and weapons, which he handed to Sorra. She hesitated slightly when she took it from him, then turned her attention to tending the wounds of Rivereye.</p><p></p><p>The four-foot tall jispin man, in addition to being covered with bruises, looked to have a sprained ankle, and there were rings around his wrists and legs where the metal cuffs of the manacles had lain frozen upon his skin. He was conscious, but looked too weak to speak. Occasionally his squinty blue eyes met Rantle’s, but he quickly looked away each time. Now that Rantle had time to actually look at him in daylight, he recognized Ragesian imperial seals sewn into the man’s clothes.</p><p></p><p>Torrent stood nearby, watching as Sorra wrapped Rivereye’s wounds in blue silk stitched with gold, and rubbed a white poultice into his split lip and across the ridge of his broken nose.</p><p></p><p>“Bastards,” Sorra said.</p><p></p><p>She kept glancing in the direction of the tents, looking impatient as she treated Rivereye.</p><p></p><p>Diogenes said, “I swear, you should not be thinking of killing those men.”</p><p></p><p>“I’ll do what I want,” Sorra scowled. She asked Rivereye, “Do you need anything else?”</p><p></p><p>Rivereye shook his head, and Sorra stood. Rantle grabbed her by her arm as she started toward the tent. She screamed and tried to struggle out of his grip.</p><p></p><p>“Let me go!”</p><p></p><p>Rantle tried to sound calm. “Diogenes is right. They hurt you, but they didn’t kill you.”</p><p></p><p>Diogenes said, “I just meant stabbing one would ruin the spell, and they’d all wake up and kill us. If we could, we probably <em>would</em> want to kill them so they can’t come after us.”</p><p></p><p>Kathor said, “Not these men. Don’t kill anyone who isn’t a threat. They won’t follow us without Renard.”</p><p></p><p>Sorra struggled in Rantle’s grip. “They would have let the Ragesians kill us.”</p><p></p><p>“Torture you first, actually,” Diogenes said. “Inquisitors keep prisoners for mass sacrifices. They have to keep you terrified, so when you die your soul lingers long enough for them to catch it. That’s how they make their masks.”</p><p></p><p>Diogenes made a snatching motion in the air with his left hand, grinning.</p><p></p><p>“Don’t scare the girl,” Torrent said.</p><p></p><p>“Let me go,” Sorra demanded. “You’re working with one of them, don’t you realize?”</p><p></p><p>Rantle shook his head. “Kathor here changed his mind. We aren’t killing anyone who can’t fight back, and we’re leaving as soon as you’re all safe to ride a horse.”</p><p></p><p>“Tie her up if you have to,” Diogenes said. “We need to search this place for anything we can use, and go soon. You’re Torrent, right?”</p><p></p><p>Torrent nodded. “Diogenes? And you’re a student of Gabal’s?”</p><p></p><p>“Is it that obvious?” Diogenes said, feigning being flattered. “You were planning to go through the fire forest apparently. How were you going to manage that?”</p><p></p><p>Rantled added, “And can we come along?”</p><p></p><p>Torrent pulled her axe out of the bundle of gear Kathor had brought from the tent.</p><p></p><p>“If you let go of Sorra,” she said, “yes, you can come along. Sorra, I don’t feel comfortable killing anyone in their sleep, and we need to leave anyway.”</p><p></p><p>Rantle released the young woman, and she stepped away angrily, walking to the horses. He kept an eye on her just in case, but he was fairly confident the fight was out of her.</p><p></p><p>“The case,” said a feeble voice.</p><p></p><p>Rantle looked down and saw Rivereye reaching out to Torrent. She bent over and nodded to him, patting his hand to calm him.</p><p></p><p>“What case?” Diogenes said.</p><p></p><p>Torrent hesitated a moment, then shrugged cooly. </p><p></p><p>“You saved my life,” she said, “I should trust you. There’s a metal chest, about a foot and a half long, that we were carrying down to Seaquen. It should be in their leader’s tent.”</p><p></p><p>Rantle glanced to Kathor, who nodded and went to get it.</p><p></p><p>“What’s in it?” Diogenes asked.</p><p></p><p>“We would have left weeks ago,” Torrent said. “I was just told by the Lyceum to get as many mages out as I could, and I sent many ahead of me. They took more traditional roads, and knew which homes along the way were safe to stop at, and most hopefully were able to get out before the Ragesian army reached them. But I had to wait until last night for Rivereye. He was working as a house servant in the imperial palace, and we discovered through an informant that he had stolen some important documents that he wanted to hand over.</p><p></p><p>“The informant arranged for us to meet at the tavern last night, and provided the balm that will protect us from the fire forest. Normally we-”</p><p></p><p>“Wait,” Rantle interrupted. “What? Your informant told you to meet at the Apple, <em>and</em> gave you magic to protect you from fire? Was it a woman?”</p><p></p><p>Torrent shrugged. “I never met him, or her. This was set up by sympathizers in Gate Pass.”</p><p></p><p>Rantle leaned back, a nervous feeling in his gut.</p><p></p><p>Diogenes said, “What’s in the case? What documents?”</p><p></p><p>Torrent said, “Maps, drawings of tunnels, and notes written in some sort of code, or a language I’ve never seen.”</p><p></p><p>Diogenes was now getting impatient. “And <em>why</em> were these important?”</p><p></p><p>On the ground, Rivereye smiled a beaten grin and said, “I was supposed to deliver them to Leska. Kreven was rude to me for the last time, so I left.”</p><p></p><p>“Leska?” Diogenes’s voice dropped out to a hollow gasp. “Great.”</p><p></p><p>Rantle shivered despite himself. After a long moment, Diogenes cleared his throat.</p><p></p><p>“Alright,” Diogenes said. “We just stole something from the most powerful woman in the world. Once we’re safe, I want to look at these, and hope she doesn’t see me do it. Let’s get going. We’ve waited long enough. Kathor, get everyone up on horses. Rantle.”</p><p></p><p>Rantle blinked and looked at Diogenes, having lost track of the conversation slightly. “What?”</p><p></p><p>“Take one last look around for things we can carry, then cut the saddle straps and stirrups of the horses we’re leaving behind. When they wake up, they’ll be much better rested than us, so we don’t want them thinking of running us down.”</p><p></p><p>Rantle nodded and went to work, but he kept an eye on Rivereye. A few minutes later, after he had collected a few weapons and some money and distributed them among the horses’ saddlebags, he headed over to Rivereye. </p><p></p><p>The bruised jispin man stood away from the group, leaning on a crutch Sorra had made him.</p><p></p><p>“Thirsty?” Rantle said.</p><p></p><p>He held out his flask of alwyr red, and shook it slightly to suggest he should take a drink. Warily Rivereye accepted, lifting the flask and guzzling a large mouthful. He swallowed and winced at the burn, but forced out a smile. Then he meekly looked away and held the flask for Rantle to take back.</p><p></p><p>“You’re welcome,” Rantle said.</p><p></p><p>He bent slightly and put his hands on his knees so he’d be below eye level of the short man.</p><p></p><p>“Torrent said there was an informant who arranged all this. Did <em>you</em> meet her?”</p><p></p><p>Rivereye squinted cautiously, then nodded once. He hunched slightly, like he was ready to be hit.</p><p></p><p>“What did she look like?” Rantle said. “Do you know who she was? Peace, I’m not going to hurt you. Just answer some of my questions, and you can have the rest of that flask.”</p><p></p><p>Rivereye looked up from under his brow, like he wasn’t quite ready to trust Rantle, but he wasn’t still scared.</p><p></p><p>“She was a han,” Rivereye said, “with red hair. It came down to her shoulders. And she always wore red. She had a Gatekeeper accent, but said she was from Seren. Actually, she looked sort of like one of the emperor’s courtesans; you know, pretty, skinny, with, um, pretty lumps? Really easy to remember, and really rude.”</p><p></p><p>“That sounds like Katrina,” Rantle chuckled. “But. . . .”</p><p></p><p>“Katrina!” Rivereye said. “That was her name.”</p><p></p><p>“She was at the imperial palace?” Rantle gasped. “How- . . . how did you know her? What was she doing there?”</p><p></p><p>Rivereye cringed again. “I didn’t know her, and I’m thankful for it. She was the sort of person you want to enjoy from a distance. But I used to see her with Leska at banquets and parties. I think she was a mage. She did tricks with fire.”</p><p></p><p>Rantle struggled to say anything. Dozens of thoughts rolled through his mind, and he tried to make sense of this. He remembered what Katrina’s letter had said. She wanted him to meet her in Seaquen, where she had a way for them to come out of the war safely. </p><p></p><p>Seaquen, where hundreds if not thousands of enemies of Ragesia were fleeing. And Katrina had known the new empress, Leska, who wanted to capture or kill all mages who were not loyal to her.</p><p></p><p>“The one time she talked to me,” Rivereye chuckled, “she called me a filthy monkey. All of the servants like me called her ‘the flaming bitch.’”</p><p></p><p>Rantle grabbed Rivereye by the shoulders. The jispin cringed and cowered, but Rantle shook his head and tried to put on a happy expression. He let go of Rivereye and smiled.</p><p></p><p>“Hey, Rivereye, can I ask you a favor? Don’t tell anyone else what you just told me, alright? You keep that a secret, and I’ll watch out for you.”</p><p></p><p>“Sure,” Rivereye said slowly. “I . . . I can do that. It’ll be our secret.”</p><p></p><p>“Good,” Rantle said. “Good. Thanks, friend. Alright, get on a horse you filthy little monkey. We need to leave.”</p><p></p><p>Rivereye flashed a self-defensive smile and backed away, then limped for the horses. Rantle stood and looked up at the sky, which was turning red from the early hints of sunset. Diogenes softly shouted for him to hurry up, and the rest of the group had already mounted. </p><p></p><p>He started to head for his own horse, but swung past the campfire. As he passed it, he pulled out the letter Katrina had left for him, and he dropped it into the flames.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="RangerWickett, post: 5135360, member: 63"] [b][size=4]Chapter Nine[/size][/b][size=4][/size] An hour of quick trotting – the fastest Kathor trusted the horses in the snowy terrain – got them to the cross trail which supposedly led to the bounty hunter camp. They had spotted sporadic tracks of Torrent and the others along the way, but here the snow was churned from many feet. “There’s only twelve of them, right?” Rantle said. Kathor nodded. “We stick to the mage’s plan.” “Keep this quick,” Diogenes said. “It’s another twenty miles or more to the fire forest, and we’re not safe until we’re inside.” Rantle grinned. “You’re right. A forest of endless fire? Only madmen would go in there.” “I said it was a good plan,” Diogenes said. “I never denied it was mad. Let’s go. At least the fire forest won’t be so damned cold.” “Follow close,” Kathor said to Diogenes. Then Kathor spurred his horse, and Rantle stayed alongside, leaving Diogenes behind with the spare horses. The mountain road had once been broad and well-tended, but dead brush narrowed the uneven trail. It rose and dipped every few hundred feet, and scattered pine trees made for too many ambush points, but after five minutes Rantle spotted smoke ahead, and a short ride later the trail opened up into a small box canyon, fifty feet across surrounded by carved walls twenty feet high. Two men who had been tending the campfire in the center of the camp’s half-dozen tents stood and aimed crossbows at them as they rode into view. Kathor reined his horse to a stop and raised a hand to calm the men. “Get Renard,” Kathor said. Sounds of stirring came from the tents, and Rantle quickly scanned the area. Not a canyon, he realized, but a quarry, barely dug out. Various tools for capture sat scattered around the camp, ranging from nets and manacles to small kegs of oily pitch and bear traps. In the quarry’s far corner a rough-cut set of stairs rose up as the only other exit. Four black horses stood near it, huddled under heavy winter blankets. Along the quarry’s right wall he spotted the cages. Normally, as a quarry was dug out, the miners would carve cubbies into the walls, which the city would use to store unopened urns after each year’s festival, protecting the citizen’s wishes with iron bars and chained locks. They had apparently made convenient cells. Rantle raised a hand to shade his eyes, and could make out the forms of three prisoners sitting in one of the caves. Torrent, her white hair standing out easily, shifted at the sound of their arrival, but just then a man stepped out from a tent on the left side of the quarry. Rantle looked away from the caves, hoping the prisoners wouldn’t spoil their ruse. “Kathor,” the man said, “you just ruined our little nap.” A few heads poked out of the other tents, curious but groggy-eyed. “Renard,” Kathor said. “Bad news.” Renard carried himself with a cocky swagger that reminded Rantle too much of his own guildmaster. Slender in a black leather rider’s outfit, the man’s too-large eyes and nose almost made Rantle snicker, but he restrained himself when he saw he held a shoulder quiver and a recurved horsebow. Better not to upset the man, he decided. With criminal suspicion, the rest of the bounty hunters lurked at their tent flaps, some wearing sword belts, most grimacing at the cold air. In the whole quarry, Kathor was the only one wearing actual armor, and aside from Renard appeared to be the only trained soldier. “Who’s that?” Renard said. He raised his head slightly, pointing with his chin to Rantle. Rantle leaned forward with a cocky smile. “I’m [i]not[/i] the bad news.” Kathor spared him a short warning glare, then looked back to the rest of the bounty hunters. No one spoke, waiting for Kathor. “You know the Ragesians attacked Gate Pass last night,” Kathor said. “When we were supposed to be capturing a den of mages, they were dropping sorcery on us. The mages got away, and most of my men were burned to death. This one here is Rantle. He was with me, and we were the only survivors.” “I don’t recognize him,” Renard said. “Recruited him in Gate Pass, did you?” Kathor nodded idly. “I couldn’t do much in the city with just one man and no leads, so here we are. I think one of your prisoners over there was actually my target last night.” Renard grinned and swaggered halfway to the cells. “You don’t know how much these three put up a fight,” Renard laughed. “Like they thought we were going to kill them, or as much. Real tragedy about your men, Kathor, but I suppose now we don’t have to split the bounty quite so much. Don’t worry. Even if you didn’t bring me any mages, I’m not angry against you. “Actually,” he continued, “it’s good to have you back. Torchies sent word they’d be sending one of their skull-divers tonight, so every sword who can make sure they don’t get any ideas is a good thing.” Kathor nodded. Renard tapped on the bars of the cell Torrent and the others sat crammed inside, and the three prisoners tensed warily. Torrent was the only one watching the conversation, though. “Too meager,” Renard said. “I think after this group, we head some place warmer, a real city, and enjoy the silver we earned.” The other bounty hunters chuckled. Renard backed away from the cells and waved a broad backhand at them. “Get back in your tents and get to sleeping. We don’t know how late the torchies will be coming, and anybody who sleeps on watch tonight gets handed over along with the mages.” With a few quiet mutterings and jokes, the other bounty hunters slipped back into their tents. Renard watched them for a moment, then kicked through the bars of the cell, striking the hunched jispin man in the back and sending him sprawling. Renard grinned and swaggered back to his tent, but stopped at its entrance. He frowned at Kathor. “Why are you two still sitting on your horses? Is there some problem?” “No tent,” Kathor said. Renard pointed at an unoccupied tent near the latrine. “That one’s free. Get your arses asleep.” Rantle looked around, waiting for Diogenes to make his move, but nothing happened. Nervously he dismounted, not wanting to raise suspicion, and he kept watching Kathor, wondering if he had betrayed them. Kathor dismounted too. “I’ll handle the horses,” Kathor said. “Wait for me in the tent. I need to talk to Renard.” On edge, Rantle did as Kathor said, only taking his knife and sword as he headed to tent. He circled along the right side of the camp, intending to pass the caves to see how Torrent and the others were, but along the way he heard quiet snores coming from each tent, even though the bounty hunters had only gone to their tents a few moments earlier. The two crossbowmen sitting near the campfire ignored him, but he made sure not to get too close to the cells, just in case. When he glanced in the prisoners’ direction, though, the young black-haired woman clambered to the bars of the cell, and reached out as best she could with her hands manacled on a short chain to her feet. “Help us, please,” she said. “I know you from last night. You helped-” “No, Sorra,” Torrent hissed. “Get back.” Sorra shook her head. “But last night he was at the tavern! He saved us from the other bounty hunters. Why would he be working with them now?” The crossbowmen looked his way, and Renard had turned away from Kathor to come see what was going on. Rantle spun and glared at Sorra. “Shut up!” he whispered as loudly as he dared. Then louder, “What the hell are you talking about? I ought to kill you for what you did to my friends last night.” Renard shouted, “What’s this? Tell the little trollop to shut her spare hole. They need to save their breaths for screamin’ when the torchies get their hands on him.” He slung his quiver over his shoulder and drew a long knife, advancing on the cells. In the center of the camp, the guards held their crossbows laxly, their eyes on Rantle. At the entrance to the camp and out of the bounty hunters’ sight, Kathor quietly remounted his horse, and he had hefted his greatsword in one hand. Rantle met Kathor’s eyes, and the knight cocked his head in the direction of Renard. Bow in one hand, knife in the other, Renard walked up to Rantle and slightly past him. He kicked at Sorra’s fingers where she held the bar. “My men are trying to sleep!” he yelled. Sorra was whimpering in pain, and Rantle wasn’t willing to wait any longer. Renard’s back was to him, so he snapped his own knife out of its sheath, reached in with his left hand, grabbed the bounty hunter by his forehead, and drove the dagger down into the man’s throat. “Holy hell!” shouted a guard. The two guards swung their crossbows up and aimed at Rantle, and he spun, still holding Renard’s flailing form as a shield. Kathor spurred his horse into a charge just as the guards fired. One bolt flew wide, and the other struck Renard in his chest. Then, well before the guards would have been able to draw weapons, Kathor’s horse rammed one, trampling him down into the fire, and Kathor brought his two-hander down into the other guard’s head, slicing through and sending a spurt of blood into the air as the man collapsed. “Get his keys!” Kathor shouted. Expecting the rest of the camp to leap from the tents at any moment to attack, Rantle threw Renard to the ground face-down, planted a knee in his back, and began tearing through his belt pouches and pockets looking for the key to the cells. The crossbow bolt in Renard’s chest snapped when he landed, and the bug-eyed man shook but put up no real fight. In the background, Rantle was faintly aware of the sound of hooves trampling a man to death, and of Torrent trying to explain to Sorra that Rantle was on their side. But there was no sound of other warriors coming, and a moment later Diogenes’s voice echoed through the quarry in a pervasive whisper. “You’ll wake them up. Be quiet.” Rantle looked around curiously, and Kathor calmed his horse so it would stop stamping the guards. Torrent and Sorra were still jabbering, but Rantle hushed them, and soon the quarry fell silent, except for the faint snoring of those bounty hunters still in their tents. “Diogenes?” Rantle asked. “I’m here,” he said from nearby. “I’m staying invisible for now in case your yelling managed to wake any of them up. I gave them each a fairly strong suggestion to stay asleep, though, so as long as they don’t think they’re in danger, we should be safe.” “Huh,” Rantle said. “Good job. Torrent, are you all alright?” “We’ll live,” she said. “They beat Rivereye, but if you can get us our packs, Sorra can tend to him. They’re in their leader’s tent.” Rantle, busy searching the still twitching body of Renard, looked to Kathor and nodded in the direction of the tent. As Kathor dismounted, footsteps appeared in the snow nearby, and Rantle smelled cigarette smoke. “That’s a little strange,” Rantle said. “So says the thief looting a still-living man,” Diogenes said. “Could you just kill him and get this over with?” Rantle grimaced, closed his eyes, and jammed his knife into the side of Renard’s skull. Sorra gasped and looked away. Rantle said, “The plan was for [i]you[/i] to nick the keys and open the cell, so we’d fight them together.” “They had already been ordered to sleep,” Diogenes said. “It’s bad form to pass up an opportunity like this. Now, I am a little weary from affecting so many at once. Can we speed this up?” “Sure,” Rantle said roughly. “He’s much easier to search when he’s dead.” Finally he found a pair of keys, and he was able to open the lock on the cell, then unlock the manacles on Torrent, Sorra, and Rivereye. Etched writing circumscribed the cuffs in a pair of concentric circles. Rantle glanced to Torrent, curious. “The inquisitors make these,” she said. “If you use magic while wearing them, it burns you with your own mana.” Diogenes’s voice said, “Infernal bonds? We’re bringing those with us.” Sorra shuddered and glared in the direction of Diogenes. “They’re used for torture,” she said. Diogenes chuckled and turned visible, light seeping back into his form as he exhaled smoke. “I’ve always wondered what it’s like to torture an inquisitor,” he said. “Don’t get qualms now. We need every resource we can get.” Kathor came over with a bundle of bags, packs, and weapons, which he handed to Sorra. She hesitated slightly when she took it from him, then turned her attention to tending the wounds of Rivereye. The four-foot tall jispin man, in addition to being covered with bruises, looked to have a sprained ankle, and there were rings around his wrists and legs where the metal cuffs of the manacles had lain frozen upon his skin. He was conscious, but looked too weak to speak. Occasionally his squinty blue eyes met Rantle’s, but he quickly looked away each time. Now that Rantle had time to actually look at him in daylight, he recognized Ragesian imperial seals sewn into the man’s clothes. Torrent stood nearby, watching as Sorra wrapped Rivereye’s wounds in blue silk stitched with gold, and rubbed a white poultice into his split lip and across the ridge of his broken nose. “Bastards,” Sorra said. She kept glancing in the direction of the tents, looking impatient as she treated Rivereye. Diogenes said, “I swear, you should not be thinking of killing those men.” “I’ll do what I want,” Sorra scowled. She asked Rivereye, “Do you need anything else?” Rivereye shook his head, and Sorra stood. Rantle grabbed her by her arm as she started toward the tent. She screamed and tried to struggle out of his grip. “Let me go!” Rantle tried to sound calm. “Diogenes is right. They hurt you, but they didn’t kill you.” Diogenes said, “I just meant stabbing one would ruin the spell, and they’d all wake up and kill us. If we could, we probably [i]would[/i] want to kill them so they can’t come after us.” Kathor said, “Not these men. Don’t kill anyone who isn’t a threat. They won’t follow us without Renard.” Sorra struggled in Rantle’s grip. “They would have let the Ragesians kill us.” “Torture you first, actually,” Diogenes said. “Inquisitors keep prisoners for mass sacrifices. They have to keep you terrified, so when you die your soul lingers long enough for them to catch it. That’s how they make their masks.” Diogenes made a snatching motion in the air with his left hand, grinning. “Don’t scare the girl,” Torrent said. “Let me go,” Sorra demanded. “You’re working with one of them, don’t you realize?” Rantle shook his head. “Kathor here changed his mind. We aren’t killing anyone who can’t fight back, and we’re leaving as soon as you’re all safe to ride a horse.” “Tie her up if you have to,” Diogenes said. “We need to search this place for anything we can use, and go soon. You’re Torrent, right?” Torrent nodded. “Diogenes? And you’re a student of Gabal’s?” “Is it that obvious?” Diogenes said, feigning being flattered. “You were planning to go through the fire forest apparently. How were you going to manage that?” Rantled added, “And can we come along?” Torrent pulled her axe out of the bundle of gear Kathor had brought from the tent. “If you let go of Sorra,” she said, “yes, you can come along. Sorra, I don’t feel comfortable killing anyone in their sleep, and we need to leave anyway.” Rantle released the young woman, and she stepped away angrily, walking to the horses. He kept an eye on her just in case, but he was fairly confident the fight was out of her. “The case,” said a feeble voice. Rantle looked down and saw Rivereye reaching out to Torrent. She bent over and nodded to him, patting his hand to calm him. “What case?” Diogenes said. Torrent hesitated a moment, then shrugged cooly. “You saved my life,” she said, “I should trust you. There’s a metal chest, about a foot and a half long, that we were carrying down to Seaquen. It should be in their leader’s tent.” Rantle glanced to Kathor, who nodded and went to get it. “What’s in it?” Diogenes asked. “We would have left weeks ago,” Torrent said. “I was just told by the Lyceum to get as many mages out as I could, and I sent many ahead of me. They took more traditional roads, and knew which homes along the way were safe to stop at, and most hopefully were able to get out before the Ragesian army reached them. But I had to wait until last night for Rivereye. He was working as a house servant in the imperial palace, and we discovered through an informant that he had stolen some important documents that he wanted to hand over. “The informant arranged for us to meet at the tavern last night, and provided the balm that will protect us from the fire forest. Normally we-” “Wait,” Rantle interrupted. “What? Your informant told you to meet at the Apple, [i]and[/i] gave you magic to protect you from fire? Was it a woman?” Torrent shrugged. “I never met him, or her. This was set up by sympathizers in Gate Pass.” Rantle leaned back, a nervous feeling in his gut. Diogenes said, “What’s in the case? What documents?” Torrent said, “Maps, drawings of tunnels, and notes written in some sort of code, or a language I’ve never seen.” Diogenes was now getting impatient. “And [i]why[/i] were these important?” On the ground, Rivereye smiled a beaten grin and said, “I was supposed to deliver them to Leska. Kreven was rude to me for the last time, so I left.” “Leska?” Diogenes’s voice dropped out to a hollow gasp. “Great.” Rantle shivered despite himself. After a long moment, Diogenes cleared his throat. “Alright,” Diogenes said. “We just stole something from the most powerful woman in the world. Once we’re safe, I want to look at these, and hope she doesn’t see me do it. Let’s get going. We’ve waited long enough. Kathor, get everyone up on horses. Rantle.” Rantle blinked and looked at Diogenes, having lost track of the conversation slightly. “What?” “Take one last look around for things we can carry, then cut the saddle straps and stirrups of the horses we’re leaving behind. When they wake up, they’ll be much better rested than us, so we don’t want them thinking of running us down.” Rantle nodded and went to work, but he kept an eye on Rivereye. A few minutes later, after he had collected a few weapons and some money and distributed them among the horses’ saddlebags, he headed over to Rivereye. The bruised jispin man stood away from the group, leaning on a crutch Sorra had made him. “Thirsty?” Rantle said. He held out his flask of alwyr red, and shook it slightly to suggest he should take a drink. Warily Rivereye accepted, lifting the flask and guzzling a large mouthful. He swallowed and winced at the burn, but forced out a smile. Then he meekly looked away and held the flask for Rantle to take back. “You’re welcome,” Rantle said. He bent slightly and put his hands on his knees so he’d be below eye level of the short man. “Torrent said there was an informant who arranged all this. Did [i]you[/i] meet her?” Rivereye squinted cautiously, then nodded once. He hunched slightly, like he was ready to be hit. “What did she look like?” Rantle said. “Do you know who she was? Peace, I’m not going to hurt you. Just answer some of my questions, and you can have the rest of that flask.” Rivereye looked up from under his brow, like he wasn’t quite ready to trust Rantle, but he wasn’t still scared. “She was a han,” Rivereye said, “with red hair. It came down to her shoulders. And she always wore red. She had a Gatekeeper accent, but said she was from Seren. Actually, she looked sort of like one of the emperor’s courtesans; you know, pretty, skinny, with, um, pretty lumps? Really easy to remember, and really rude.” “That sounds like Katrina,” Rantle chuckled. “But. . . .” “Katrina!” Rivereye said. “That was her name.” “She was at the imperial palace?” Rantle gasped. “How- . . . how did you know her? What was she doing there?” Rivereye cringed again. “I didn’t know her, and I’m thankful for it. She was the sort of person you want to enjoy from a distance. But I used to see her with Leska at banquets and parties. I think she was a mage. She did tricks with fire.” Rantle struggled to say anything. Dozens of thoughts rolled through his mind, and he tried to make sense of this. He remembered what Katrina’s letter had said. She wanted him to meet her in Seaquen, where she had a way for them to come out of the war safely. Seaquen, where hundreds if not thousands of enemies of Ragesia were fleeing. And Katrina had known the new empress, Leska, who wanted to capture or kill all mages who were not loyal to her. “The one time she talked to me,” Rivereye chuckled, “she called me a filthy monkey. All of the servants like me called her ‘the flaming bitch.’” Rantle grabbed Rivereye by the shoulders. The jispin cringed and cowered, but Rantle shook his head and tried to put on a happy expression. He let go of Rivereye and smiled. “Hey, Rivereye, can I ask you a favor? Don’t tell anyone else what you just told me, alright? You keep that a secret, and I’ll watch out for you.” “Sure,” Rivereye said slowly. “I . . . I can do that. It’ll be our secret.” “Good,” Rantle said. “Good. Thanks, friend. Alright, get on a horse you filthy little monkey. We need to leave.” Rivereye flashed a self-defensive smile and backed away, then limped for the horses. Rantle stood and looked up at the sky, which was turning red from the early hints of sunset. Diogenes softly shouted for him to hurry up, and the rest of the group had already mounted. He started to head for his own horse, but swung past the campfire. As he passed it, he pulled out the letter Katrina had left for him, and he dropped it into the flames. [/QUOTE]
Insert quotes…
Verification
Post reply
Community
Playing the Game
Story Hour
War of the Burning Sky - The Novel
Top