Chapter 44: The Outpost

Chapter 44: The Outpost

It was only a few minutes later that the pair of companions had caught up with Etienne on the eastward highway. As they hailed him, he turned, and stopped walking, allowing Alcar and Olynka to catch up.

As the halfling had promised, a fair amount of the equipment from the wagon was now strapped to the pony’s back and sides, giving it the appearance of a pack mule. The chest that contained their food was there, strapped low on the beast’s right-hand flank, the tarpaulin was over the top, and the two sacks containing bedrolls and rope were over the other side. Even Kora’s second sword was tucked in, though Etienne was wearing his own backpack across his shoulders.

“Terrible luck, I’m afraid,” said Alcar, as he reached Etienne’s side, panting. “We were chased off by the goblins.” He glanced around. “But hey, where’s Leppie? Is she all right?”

”She’s gone,” said Ettiene, raising his eyebrows. “Leppie left to alert Kora’s family. Back to Katresburg, and then to the farm.”

“Just as well that she’s alerting them,” replied Alcar. “We really messed... uh, I mean, I messed up.”

“Yep. We were lucky to make it out of there alive,” said Olynka, scowling again. She obviously hadn’t gotten over her annoyance with his misplaced magical fire. She then stepped forward, reached out and pulled Kora’s sword out from the tackle of ropes and equipment on the pony’s back and flanks, and weighed it in her hands thoughtfully.

“How so?” said Etienne, glancing from one of them to the other.

“Ah, well,” said Alcar, aware of the need to be delicate in his explanation. “The thing is, I tried something that my master showed me. I haven’t quite controlled the sorcery yet, though...”

“He set the damn trees in the valley on fire,” snapped Olynka, thrusting Kora’s sword into her belt as she spoke. “So no surprise that the goblins were alerted. Kora’s probably done for, now.”

Etienne spread his arms, looking back in that direction. “Don’t be so sure about that, my friends,” he said. “I don’t think they will seriously torture Kora. It’s not in their interests! Goblins are selfish and often uncultured, but they are not stupid. Why mistreat a slave? At most they will mock her a bit. To them, she will probably look very ugly.”

Olynka nodded. “Okay,” she said, rubbing at her eyes. “That’s something, I guess.”

“Besides,” continued Etienne, “don’t underestimate what her family will achieve. They’ll probably send those hulking Khranulians to her rescue.”

“If Leppie doesn’t keep them busy in a farmhouse bedroom,” muttered Alcar.

“Well,” said Etienne with a wink, “that may have been a part of her motivation to return, I suppose.”

“I thought her god was supposed to provide?” said Olynka sourly.

Etienne laughed loudly at this. “Ah, Olynka. You are very fond of the farm girl, that much is obvious. But let me tell you this. I only previously knew of two people captured by goblins, and both of them escaped within a couple of days. Most goblins are lazy, and while they enjoy getting slaves to do their work for them, they are also careless masters – drunkards, for the most part. They will get boozed up one night, and their current batch of slaves will all escape. You’ll see. And then it will all begin again, as they try to replace the ones who they have lost.”

Olynka nodded, something of her usual cheerful manner returning. “You mean it, Ett? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

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“Of course I mean it!”

She smiled. “Thanks, Etienne. You’re a friend, and I appreciate it.”

“Then... onwards?” suggested Alcar.

“Indeed, let’s go,” said Etienne. But I’m afraid we won’t make it to Gilmour Village by nightfall.”

“It turns out that we did need three bedrolls after all,” said Alcar brightly.

Olynka shot another glare in his direction, and he fell silent.

***

A couple of hours later, the small gathering were now getting close to the settled area in the interior of Dathmir province, and the last of the afternoon was giving way to evening.

Walking, walking, walking. Even Brutus was starting to look tired.

Alcar looked at his boots. This was the reality – not the spell casting or the monster slaying that he had hoped for, or even the loot. There was one heck of a lot of walking from place to place. And a fair amount of guilt over companions that they had lost along the way. That was the lot of the leader of adventuring party, he supposed. He’d been naive to expect anything else.

At least the surroundings were now showing signs of civilisations. They had passed several huge farms with herds of cattle along the road over the past hour or so. Now, a pair of Imperial guard buildings sat directly ahead, one on either side of the road. The one on the left was a watchtower, as tall as many of the more extravagant lords’ towers in Katresburg. The building on the right looked more like a barracks – it was long, two stories high, and had a stable at one end. Further on, the road narrowed as it dipped towards a gulley with low granite cliffs lining either side.

Just outside the nearby stable were a pair of chainmail-clad guards. Behind them, drinking from a low trough, was a heavily-armored warhorse. It was the largest and bulkiest horse that Alcar remembered seeing in his life – it could easily weigh twice as much as their own pack pony, which was a sturdy enough beast in its own way. The guards in front of it both wore a familiar–looking livery – a tabard of brown over their mail, each one decorated with a white lightning bolt.

”It's time to stop for the night,” said Etienne, unslinging his canvas backpack.

“No – not here,” said Alcar, putting one hand on Brutus’s collar and glancing nervously towards the warhorse. There was no sign of its rider, but he or she must surely be close by. “We can press on a few minutes longer, no?”

”What?“ said Olynka, glaring at him again. “Are you crazy? This is an army outpost, and that“ – she pointed towards the gulley and the gloomy cliffs ahead – “is the sort of place where people get attacked after dark.”

Alcar hesitated. The archer had a point, but he really didn't fancy crossing paths with General Tung and her forces again. “Those guards there,” he said, nodding his head in that direction by just a fraction. “They’re Imperials. They look just like the ones that chased us back in Katresburg, don’t you think?”

Her gaze flicked over in that direction. “Mmh. I guess – if you say so. I mean, yes, they are Imperial soldiers, no doubt. And this is an Imperial outpost. But they are here to guard the highway, meaning that it’s a safer place to stop than most.”

“Right,” said Etienne. “As she said. It will be fine, man.”

Alcar looked at the tower. “You really want to knock on the door, after we just yesterday fled from some of their fellow troops?”

Etienne nudged his arm, and pointed towards the stable. “Not in the tower, fella – that’s where the soldiers hang out. No – travellers can sleep in the taproom beside the table.”

“You wouldn’t want to bunk up beside these soldiers anyway,” murmured Olynka. “Bunch of bullies and scumbags.”

“So, let’s go,” said Etienne firmly.

With the matter apparently decided, at least as far as the halfling was concerned, Etienne started to lead the pony slowly towards the outpost once again. “Besides, like Ola says, it is too risky to carry on at this hour. You two go ahead to the taproom, and I’ll stable Shiela.”

“Shiela?” queried Olynka.

“Sure. I had to call the pony something, didn’t I?”

Alcar gritted his teeth and followed. He still didn’t like the look of the pair of guards, and gave them a wide berth as he and Olynka passed by the stable and approached the entrance to the taproom. When they were just a couple of yards away, the door to the taproom burst open, and three further brown-clad soldiers strode out. Alcar immediately scooted over to the side of the door and flattened himself against the wall. Looking ahead, he saw the back of a figure in red armour striding out between the soldiers.

Olynka pulled in at his side, one hand on Kora’s sword hilt in her belt. “Urgh,” she hissed. “Perhaps you are right about stopping here. That’s one of the warriors that the master told us about back at his tower.”

“What’s that?” he muttered in response.

She turned towards him. “That knight. If I’m not mistaken, he’s one of the Knights of Dawn. Varians.”

“The group led by Master Maluhk’s former companion? Gellan?”

She nodded. “I think so, yes. And I’ve heard that they are no fans of magic users. Best get inside.”

Alcar didn’t need to be told twice.