CHAPTER 7: THE LONG ROAD HOME
“So how much further is it?” Shayla asked, leaning back in her saddle and taking a long pull from her water skin.
“Ah, yes, well, I'm not exactly sure,” Khalid replied, studying the creased and faded map of the East that Arbaq had provided them so many months ago.
“Bah,” Azarek growled, “this road 'ere only goes ta one place. How hard can it be ta figure it out?”
“Ah, yes, all of these villages look the same,” Khalid complained helplessly. “Ah, I have no idea which one this is. Yes, quite.”
He felt he had a point. So far, every village and hamlet they encountered was depressingly similar: devoid of inhabitants and more often then not, burned to the ground by Dwerro raiders. After the fall of Caer Morag, they had spent a long, tense night debating their next course of action. In the end, frustrated by their failure to prevent the Dwerro from claiming the city, they had decided to follow the road to the east to a city known only as the 'The Hub' and warn them of the inevitable approach of the Dwerro army. They made good time on the back of Khalid's summoned mounts, gambling that the bulk of the Dwerro forces would be involved in the siege. Thus far, the road had been entirely empty of travelers, much less Dwerro, to Khalid's relief. Shayla and Azarek however, seemed almost disappointed and Khalid suspected that they were both secretly hoping to encounter a patrol, to exact a little revenge.
“It can't be much farther.” Shayla added, corking her water skin and looping the strap over her saddlehorn.
“Indeed,” Khalid replied. “A day, perhaps two at the most.”
The sound of flapping wings heralded Gorak's return. In eagle form, he swooped low overhead and then shimmered back into his own body. “This ain't no picnic,” he growled. “If you keep stopping every half mile the only thing we're gonna find at the Hub are Dwerro.”
Khalid dismissed the jibe without comment. They'd all been a little short tempered since the fall of the Caer Morag. By his reckoning they had to be at least two days march ahead of the army, which in all likelihood was tied up with dealing with the populace and probably hadn't even moved yet. They were confident enough to ride out on the road during the day, with Gorak constantly scouting and searching for signs of pursuit. “Ah, well, the mounts will hold for a few more hours, and it's not quite dark yet,” Khalid said, tossing the reins of the summoned horse to Gorak.
A few hours later, they turned and headed south towards the forest, before dismounting. Wearied from the long day spent on the road, Khalid stretched and then stumbled through the words to a spell, conjuring up the magical portal. He was as tired mentally as he was physically, having spent most of his time in the saddle reviewing the final formula to a new spell. Sure now that it was ready to be tested, the thought was enough to the spring back into his step. It had been some time since he'd added new weapons to his arsenal but now, with his increased skill, several new options became available. The culmination of several months of work was about bear fruit. He began to mumble through a few of the phrases, measuring his rhythm and inflection. Dropping his pack, he moved away from the portal, drawing out his battered leather tome from his robes.
“Oiy,” Azarek called out. “Where ya ofta?”
“Ah, yes, I have a new spell I plan to enact.”
Swinging his saddlebags off his shoulder, Azarek rasped, “This I gotta see.” He sounded genuinely interested, much to Khalid's surprise.
Shayla released the rope, “Me too. Hey Gorak,” she called up into the portal.
Gorak's head emerged into view through the open portal. “No way” he growled. “I still remember what happened the last time.” He vanished again. “I'll leave the rope out, just in case...”
“Very well,” Khalid agreed absently, stopping at edge of a small rise looking back over the meadow towards the road. Against the backdrop of trees, they'd be hard to spot by anyone passing on the road. The light was beginning to fade, but it was sufficient for his purposes.
“So whut's this gonna do?” Azarek asked curiously.
“Ah, yes, well, my search continues for new allies,” Khalid replied cryptically. “I fear that my usual servants have been, compromised, yes, compromised.”
“Angels then?” Shayla asked.
“Ah, no, not exactly.” Khalid replied. “It seems, ah, well, somehow improper, to order an divine being to hack something into tiny, yes, tiny pieces. I seek to cast my net a bit wider, shall we say.” Furrowing his brow, he finished the conversation by launching into the start of the ritual.
Several hundred feet away, a pinprick of hazy purple flame flashed into view. It quickly expanded outwards in a perfect ring, leaving behind a black, endless void instead of scorched earth. For a few seconds, nothing happened as Khalid struggled to hold open the portal with magic while imposing his will upon the creature on the other side. Slowly, the flawless black sphere began to ripple, then a thin, tiny tentacle emerged. Almost tentatively, the milky, translucent appendage reached out, uncurling in the air.
“Ugh,” Shayla muttered, as a half dozen more tentacles exploded from the portal, flailing about wildly. The base of each was easily the thickness of Gorak's leg. Beneath the surface, cloudy purplish lumps of muscle bunched and flexed. One, near the edge of the expanding flame coiled around a thick ash tree. “That's repulsive. Hey Gorak, you should check this out,” she called out over her shoulder. “Khalid just summoned the biggest, angriest squid you've ever seen.”
“No thanks.”
“Uh, Khalid,” Azarek rasped, carefully watching the expanding boundary of the spell. “How big is that thing gonna get.”
“Ah, do not worry,” Khalid said grandly as he completed the last of the phrases. “It is completely under my control, yes quite. Release the tree.” he commanded with a wave. The tentacle continued to flow around the tree, bending it down almost in two.
He tried again directing the full force of his will at the beast.
Release the tree!. With a groaning crack, the tree shattered at the roots, flinging clots of dirt into the air.
Shayla took a step backwards, away from the increasing reach of the creature. “Keep that thing away from me. If it gets any closer, it's gonna smell like burnt calamari around here. She turned and vanished into the portal.
“Ah, yes, of course,” Khalid replied, hastily tying off the weaves. “That should do it.” The last part was muttered under his breath. He exhaled heavily and the portal seemed to stabilize, almost forty feet from edge to edge. Pouring out from the void were dozens of the tentacles, desperately clawing at the empty sky.
“So whut in tha hell is it? Azarek rasped.
“Ah, I'm not exactly sure, but it doesn't appear to be able to fit through the portal.” He sighed with disappointment. “I can only assume, this is but a part of some vastly larger creature. Not exactly, what I was hoping for, yes, quite. Although I suppose I could find some use for it.”
“That right there,” Azarek pointed at the mass of squirming appendages, “hasta be one of the most disgustin' things I've seen, an' tha's saying sumptin, coming from me. If you let it out near anybody, it's gonna do terrible, awful things to 'em.” He let loose a sharp barking laugh. “I love it.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Forty miles later, Khalid got his first glimpse of the Hub. He black mood only darkened as he surveyed the shantytown that surrounded the city proper. Unlike Caer Morag, with its stone walls and fortified tower, the Hub seemed little more than a rambling jumble of houses and tents, laid out in no particular order. Beyond the refugee encampment, a timber palisade interspersed with stone towers split the town in two, encircling the more permanent and prosperous looking dwellings. They guided their horses through the milling press of people, towards the western gate of the city. The tension and fear of the populace was all too noticeable, though they lacked the hopeless desperation that had pervaded Caer Morag. For the moment. Approaching the wall, Khalid could see the signs of hasty improvement, which failed to inspire much confidence in him. If Caer Morag had been unable to turn away the Dwerro tide, these people had little chance. The only encouraging sign was a significantly larger number of regular infantry, dressed in a mix of leather and chain, sporting green and black tabards that mirrored the flags hanging limply from the stone towers.
Near the gate, they pace slowed to almost a crawl. Despite being open, it seemed as though the guards were turning most people away, preventing them from entering the inner city. Sweating under the warm spring sun, they waited anxiously, growing more and more impatient, until finally they reached the front of the crowd.
A middle-aged guard stepped in front of them as they approached. Barrel chested, his cheeks were flushed from the heat and sweat dripped from under his steel helm, running down into a thick grey mustache. “We ain't letting nobody into the city,” he announced before they had a chance to speak. “There's no room for any more refugees. Yer gonna have to find someplace to camp out there.” He gestured at the tent city behind them with the tip of his pike.
“Do we look like refugees to you?” Gorak growled, his patience exhausted from the long wait.
The guard's gaze scanned their worn, dust covered clothing, lingering on Gorak's thick dreadlocks and Khalid's mangy, tattered beard, he replied. “Well you sure as shyte don't look like the sultan of Gem-Sharad. Now move along, there might be some folk behind you that actually belong in the city.”
“We want to speak to somebody in charge,” Gorak growled.
“I'm in charge here!” The guard replied angrily, his face turning a deeper shade of red.
“Somebody more important than you,” Gorak retorted.
Khalid, trying to head off an unpleasant situation, injected before the guard could respond. He leaned down out of his saddle. “Ah, we have just come from Caer Morag. Unless you would prefer, yes, prefer that we inform all of these people here that the city has fallen, perhaps there is some place a little more private we could go to speak to your superiors?”
The sergeant's face turned deathly pale. Realizing the chaos that would engulf the crowd if the news that Caer Morag had fallen spread among them, he glanced around hastily to see if any one had overheard. “Why didn't you say so? Stay right here,” he ordered, then spun on his heel, heading for the walls. “Lieutenant! Lieutenant!” he called out, heading to a small group of soldiers conferring together on the other side of the gate. A youngish looking man glanced up at the guard's approach. The sergeant whispered hastily into his ear, and the young man nodded, then waved away the line of guards to allow them to enter the town. Leading them to a small building attached to the base of the wall, the young man ushered them inside. “Wait here a moment,” he said as he closed the door.
A few minutes later, he returned followed by another soldier that, given the resemblance, Khalid had to assume was his brother. Both had light, sandy blood hair, cut military short and pale blue eyes. They could have been twins, although Khalid suspected that the one who had greeted them was slightly older. They wore the same insignia of rank, a red armband emblazoned with two gold chevrons.
Gesturing at them to take a seat around the small wooden table in the center of the room, the older of the two spoke. “I'm Jared, and this is my brother Jakob.” After Khalid made the introductions, he continued. “So do you mind telling us what you said to get Gustav so upset.”
“Ah, yes, well, we have information that your senior officers will find most, yes, most interesting,” Khalid replied.
“Oh I'm sure the Captain will be along shortly. The good sergeant has gone to find him. In the meantime, why don't you start with us?”
With a glance at Gorak, who shrugged, Khalid forged ahead. “Caer Morag has fallen.”
The brother's jovial expressions turned grim and they exchanged a long look. “Maybe you should go see what's keeping Gustav,” Jared suggested, straightening in his chair. Jakob stood up and left the room, while Jared turned his attention back to them. “Go on.”
“Five days ago. The Dwerro have a new type of siege engine they call a bombard. When they brought it to the field, they breeched the walls of Caer Morag in mere hours.”
Jared exhaled slowly. “Hours?” He shook his head, almost in denial. “We'd almost begun to hope that maybe they'd manage to hold out until we figured out a way to lift the siege.”
“Ah, yes, well as far as we can tell,” Khalid continued, “the army has not yet decamped. You still have time to evacuate the civilians. Yes quite.”
“Evacuate them where?” Jared replied, frustration evident in his tone. “The Hub is the last of the free city states. The towns and villages nearby have been destroyed or abandoned.” He looked at them shrewdly for a moment. “But you might not know that, seeing as how you're not from around here. What are two Westerners, a desert Orc and...” he paused, looking at Azarek carefully, “...whatever you are, doing wandering around in the middle of a war?”
“Ah, yes, well,” Khalid stuttered, trying to think quickly. “Ah, just passing through.” he concluded lamely, unable to come up anything better and not really wishing to get into their personal motivations.
“Of course,” Jared replied with a mocking smirk.
“Look,” Gorak growled, “we just thought you might like a little warning is all. What you choose to do wit it, that's your business.”
Jared rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, weariness making him look older than he was. “No, I understand and I do appreciate what you've done. But if Caer Morag can't hold, we don't have much of a chance.”
Khalid had pulled out the map and was studying it carefully. “Ah, this map indicates there are more settlements further east. Across this land bridge. Surely they will not turn you away? Yes, quite.”
“They will spare us no aid,” Jared said, bitterness lacing his words. “Not that they could if they wanted too, now.” Reaching out his hand, Jared took the map and laid it out on the table. “The road's blocked. It's raining.”
“Raining?” Gorak scoffed.
“Yeah, raining. Right here.” He pointed to a dull green area south of the road. “And it has been, for six months straight.”
“Ah, is that a swamp?” Khalid asked, squinting at the map.
“Yep, except now it covers most of this area here,” he traced a circle some fifty miles wide, stretching almost from the northern coast of the land bridge to the south. “The road is all but gone. This village here,” he touched a small unnamed dot along the road, “had mostly been abandoned by the time we made it through. It's probably under water by now. There's nothing but mud and pools of stagnant water, and more reeds and swamp shrub then should reasonably grow in that amount of time.”
“Dwerro?” Khalid asked.
Jared nodded. “They have to be involved somehow. We suspect that there are several hundred of them hiding out in the foothills here.” He pointed at a shading of mountains, two or three days north east of the city. “My brother and I made that run a few months back. As far as we know, we're the last to make it through, either way. The road is littered with traps and obstacles, not to mention Dwerro raiders. There's no way to get these people through.”
“So there is nothing that can be done?” Khalid asked, sympathizing with the young man.
“We'll fight.” Jared shrugged. “What else can we do? If we had more horses, maybe we'd be able to deal with them. Horses are faster than those pigs they ride, so our light cavalry fares pretty well but we don't have any heavy horse to speak of, and our infantry doesn't measure up. Hell, there isn't a man alive in the army that's seen a real war.” He sighed. “But that isn't your problem. Thank you for your warning. I'm going to ask you to remain here, as I'm sure the Captain would like to hear the account, first hand.”
They didn't have to wait long until Jared returned, with the Gustav and the Captain in tow. Waving the sergeant away, the Captain ordered the two young lieutenants to act as scribes, and proceeded grill them about the siege. Given their unique involvement, Gorak in particular was able to provide a highly detailed disposition of the Dwerro forces, although he was rather circumspect as to how he came by it.
Several hours later, the Captain released them. As they turned to leave, Jared fell into step beside them. “You have the run of the town of course, to resupply if you need to,” he offered. “Although prices are like to be dear. Food is being controlled by the council now, so it's hard to come by, but for the right price, you should have no trouble finding what you need. I can perhaps, show you a few places.”
“Chaperon?” Gorak grunted, tactful as always.
“Ah, well, I just though perhaps I could be of some service,” Jared offered with a grin. “That's the official line, anyhow,” he continued with a smirk. “Listen, if it's not me, it'll be somebody else that's not nearly as useful. They just want to make sure you don't go stirring up panic until things have gotten organized.”
“Ah, yes, fair enough,” Khalid replied, not seeing any choice in the matter. “We shall collect what we need and be on our way quickly then.”
Jared turned out to be telling the truth about the useful part, quickly introducing them to several merchants able to provide them with supplies. Having had little opportunity or need to spend any of the wealth Arbaq had supplied them with in Gem-Sharad, they quickly spent sums of money Khalid would have once considered fortunes. Seeing no real need to stay in the city, given their alternative, they headed for the city gate.
“The east gate?” Jared commented, as they walked. “After what I told you, you're still going to head east?” he said, his voice twinged with a mixture of admiration and disbelief.
“What's it to you, where we go?” Gorak growled.
Stopping in front of the barred gate, Jared waved at one of the guards to unlatch a small sally port. “Nothing at all. But damn me if you aren't the oddest bunch I've seen come through these parts lately.” He grinned at them. “What are you people doing here?” he asked once more.
“Ah, passing through,” Khalid replied with a wink, stepping through the gate. They made their way to the outskirts of the refugee camp before sunset, taking shelter out of sight from any curious onlookers.
They struck out the next morning, leaving before the sun was more than put a pale smudge on the horizon. Their hurried pace chewed up the miles quickly and the city was soon far behind. After the first day, they encountered no more people on the road.
The second day, proved far more eventful. Gorak was off scouting ahead when the road in front them exploded in a shower of dirt and debris. Reigning in hard, the summoned mounts reared and pawed at the air, as two enormous stone statues emerged from the ground, facing one another across the ten foot wide expanse of road. Vaguely humanoid, they were so crudely cast as to be almost unrecognizable. Unfinished stone plates covered their body, and thick, stumpy fingers curled into fists at their sides. They towered over the road, and Khalid guessed them to be about fifteen feet high.
Dropping down out of the clouds, Gorak swooped in low and shifted form. “Where'd those things come from?” he growled.
“Outta tha ground,” Azarek rasped, urging his skittish mount forward another step. The statues pivoted on their base, expressionless faces now staring blankly at them.
“Azarek” Shayla muttered darkly under her breath, an unneeded warning in her tone.
Studying the statues carefully, Khalid suddenly clued into where he'd seen their kind before. Gorak had summoned a creature almost exactly the same, albeit smaller, in Malakai's caves. The two statues were earth spirits, bounded to a rocky form on the material plane. But this was a different type of magic, to hold them here as guards indefinitely. Khalid studied them carefully, noticing that both had a shiny metal collar wrapped around their necks.
“Ah, they seem to be bound here, against their will, I should think, yes quite.” Khalid said, as Azarek backed away. “By those collars around their necks, I suspect. I should think they will be easy, yes, easy enough to get rid of,” he continued, muttering a few words and briefly suppressing the magical bonds.
“Hey, wait a minute,” Gorak growled, but before he could grab hold of Khalid, the spell left his fingers. The elemental on the left bulged at the neck, shattering the collar and sending fragments of mental flying through the air, then vanished into the ground as quickly as it had appeared.
“Khalid,” Gorak growled dangerously.
“Ah, yes, well I thought perhaps, yes, as they say, the enemy of my enemy,” Khalid stuttered, glancing around nervously. He was practically thrown out of his saddle as the ground behind him erupted. Swelling to twice its previous size, the elemental towered over them. It brought its massive fists crashing down, shattering the paving stones of the road and roared in a voice that sounding like moving mountains. “RETURN ME!”
