Imperial Towers

Chapter 3.

ings that signalled a homecoming.

Any fondness that could have warmed his heart was held at bay by the lingering scent of smoke on the afternoon air.

“We’re still too high to smell smoke from a ransacked village on the plains, aren’t we?” Tsolde asked, her brow furrowed.

Never nodded. “Perhaps a mountain hamlet. There are several nearby.”

Luis said nothing. Sweat lined his brow as he held the reins, but his expression darkened. He’d been riding without complaint, but with the last of the herbs gone, it was clear he was now suffering.

The highway bent around a stand of trees and the scent of smoke grew, still no more than a bitter taste on Never’s tongue rather than a spectre within the trunks. But the source was soon revealed. A pile of blackened bodies rested beside the road, surrounded by hewn earth. Near as tall as a man, it had to contain at least two score, possibly more men. Ash and char littered the highway. A gauntlet peeked from mud in a ditch beneath the pile.

No faces were discernible, merely black shadows within the heap of half-formed limbs and armour. A blackened breastplate hung from a stake that had been driven into the stony earth before the pile.

Vadiya script was scratched across the surface.

“What does it say?” Luis asked.

“It says ‘We hunt you now’,” Never replied. “Or close enough – there’s a mistake in the word order but the meaning is clear.”

“Captain Sirgeto and his men?” Tsolde asked.

“It’s certainly possible.”

Never led them beyond and down into the foothills. Though their supplies were holding up well enough, Luis needed more medicine. And the deeper they headed into Marlosa the greater chance there was of running into Vadiya forces. Even following Sirgeto’s trail of death as they were, didn’t guarantee they’d avoid enemy soldiers. It probably increased the chances of running afoul of the Vadiya, if any had caught wind of Sirgeto’s frenzied resistance.

And frenzied it seemed.

At the sites of three more skirmishes it appeared that Vadiya scouting parties – and a once larger force – had been wiped out by the Captain and his small band. Good on him. Never had to acknowledge a twinge of pleasure, but there was a fair chance such strikes would draw more attention to the area.

And he couldn’t afford that.

Barley and other grains stood in the fields, tall and golden but much of it brown and decaying too. In places, husks littered the roadside and the kernels were beginning to wither as the pending winter harvest would likely go unheeded.

“Let’s take a moment,” Never said as he paused on one of the low, wooden fences that lined the road. A breeze rustled the stalks behind him and somewhere in the distance a bird cried out. “This road is still important to the Vadiya – we’re going to run into them sooner or later, whether it’s forces heading into Hanik or the other way around, whether they’re looking for us specifically or not.” And there was even a chance one of those forces would be led by Sacha, something else he needed to avoid.

“And that’s going to be true on any road, isn’t it?” Tsolde said.

“Less so, but you’re right. It’s just one reason why I think we need to rest again.” He looked to Luis, whose hair was sweat-dampened once more. His eyes bore a glazed look, something that hadn’t been evident earlier that morning.

“I’m fine, Never,” Luis said. “I can go on.”

“Very well, to the nearest farmhouse then,” Never replied. He glanced along the highway, which was half-torn by hooves and boots. A crossroad sign stood dark against the afternoon light. Nowhere could he see woodsmoke on the sky, but nor would he if people were laying low. “Let’s see what’s down there.”

The crossroad offered more grain stretching forth, yet the western fields had been razed to the ground, no more than blackened stubs remaining, dotted throughout the gentle contours of ash-choked earth. In the distance, a barn stood but nothing else.

Tsolde looked to it but Never shook his head. “The first place anyone will look if they’re sweeping the area.”

Further east waited simply more fields. The crops were a little shorter, but the path heading north, running almost parallel with the Folhan Ranges, was more promising. The wheat stood taller and the land seemed to dip. “This way.” Never started down the path, Tsolde leading Luis. The man swayed a little in his saddle but was staying upright.

For now.

Never turned down the first narrow trail, which eventually led to a large farm set off from the fields and surrounded by a square of dying grass. The building was quiet, still. White walls bore no scorch marks or otherwise, the doors were closed yet there was an emptiness to it. No smoke rose from the chimney, no sense of movement between windows.

“Let’s see if anyone’s home,” Never said.

At the door he drew a knife and leant against the wood, straining his hearing. No sounds from within. He pushed on the door but it remained shut. “Around back,” he said. Never glanced into each window he passed but curtains blocked his view.

The rear door was closed. Never forced it open, calling a greeting.

Silence.

“We’d like to shelter here, if we may?”

He moved from room to room, finding only emptiness. A table set, a new wick in a tallow candle, chairs in place, an unmade bed in one room and two more atop a loft. Only the pantry revealed evidence of hasty retreat; bare shelves with naught but crumbs left on a piece of cloth. A thin trail of ants led from the crumbs to a c***k in the wall.

Had the people here fled before the Vadiya? Or, been taken?

Outside, he nodded to Tsolde. “Seems empty. Think you could look after the horse and get some water boiling?”

“I can,” she said.

Never helped Luis from the horse, taking his friend’s weight with a grunt of surprise.

“I’m not that heavy, am I?” Luis gasped.

“You’ve probably lost weight,” Never said, glad Luis couldn’t see his expression, since the man’s eyes were squeezed shut in pain. Tsolde took the reins and led the mare into the stable, mouth pressed into a firm line.

“That’s not a good sign, is it?” Luis said.

“Not really.” Never supported his friend as they walked inside and to the bed, where he lowered the taller man down. “We’ll find something.”

Tsolde soon appeared with a cup of water, her eyes full of worry. Luis drained the cup and lay back, his breathing easing a little.

Never took Tsolde back to the kitchen, lowering his voice. “He won’t be able to travel much further, that fever is growing. His injuries are worse than we thought.”

“Do we have anything left?”

“No.”

She glanced around. “These people don’t appear to have any herbs; I haven’t checked everywhere yet but I don’t like the look of things.”

Some Red Clove would have done it, but better to wish for the moon. “I might have to try to find a village.”

“And leave us here?”

“Unless you want to go?” he asked.

Tsolde glanced toward the room where Luis lay, the sound of his laboured breathing still audible. “I don’t know Marlosa like you do.”

“Then we have to think of something if you’re found.” Never scratched at his beard. Did the farmhouse have a razor somewhere? Hardly important. “Is there a cellar here?”

“Will Luis even be able to climb down if there is?”

“You’ll help him,” he said. “I could teach you some Vadiyem too. Enough to claim you have information worth keeping you alive for. It might buy some time if you’re found by forces that haven’t been given Snow’s orders.”

“But maybe not for Luis,” she said. “They’d have no use for him as he is.”

Never sighed. She was right. “Do as you see fit, Tsolde. I don’t think we have many options. I’ll be swift.”

“Where are you going?”

He moved to the nearest window and parted the curtain, pointing along the road. “Perhaps half a day north and west lies a village... named something like ‘bowl’, I can’t remember. There are larger settlements farther away but I don’t know if they will be standing.”

“And if your village has no medicine?”

“Disan lies beyond it, another day.”

“Three days at least – would Luis survive that long?”

“He must.” Never started toward the stable, striding into the shadows to check the mare over. He tossed Tsolde a spare knife. “And so do you.”

Chapter 4.

Never reined the mare in, mud splattering from her hooves.

Misty rain clouded his view of the road and the village ahead – what was it called? Still he couldn’t recall its name, but perhaps it didn’t matter anymore, he realised as he squinted.

There was little left of it.

Afternoon light was failing, smothered by the rain and dark clouds overhead but he saw the black stumps and skeletal walls in place of homes.

“Gods be damned.”