Chapter 91


    Salt the Earth Behind You


    “Where’s your ice raft?” Daegan repeated his question, “I won’t ask a third time.”


    “You said you wouldn’t hurt them,” Yaref scolded from where he was working on the bald man’s wound.


    “I won’t,” Daegan shot the healer an annoyed glance, “but I’ve no problem using this.” He lifted the dagger so that the tip of the blade was pointed at Misandrei’s face.


    “I think you’ve seen enough of how this thing works,” Daegan went on. Tanlor suspected that Daegan intended to lead the captives into believing he understood more about the dagger than he actually did.


    “It saps at your edir,” Daegan elaborated, “sucks it dry until there’s nothing left.” He looked towards the younger of the two captives.


    “You felt it when I used it on you,” Daegan continued, a villainous grin spreading across his face, “if I draw just enough, the effect is permanent. You’re left alive… but like me. No more runewielding. Ever.”


    The blond girl had a worried expression but Misandrei was stoic. She had the look of a seasoned soldier about her, Tanlor didn’t figure she’d give up anything.


    “Look,” Daegan said after a few moments of silence, “I know you’re not going to tell me anything. But I know you work for Landryn. I know that he sent you here to kill me. I’d love to know why, but we both know that even if you knew the answer, there’s nothing I can do that will make you tell me,” his tone was almost friendly, “I get it. You’re loyal to him. Landryn has that effect on people. All I’m asking you is; where is your iceraft? Tell me this, and I won’t turn you all into cripples. Just answer me this one question, you have my word.”


    Misandrei’s stone-faced expression didn’t budge. Daegan sighed, “you’re going to make me do it?”


    “Better this way anyway,” Tanlor put in, “makes them less of a threat.” Yaref was glaring at them. Tanlor knew that Daegan was bluffing. Yaref had made it clear that if they hurt the prisoners in any way that he wouldn’t help them rescue Rowan. Tanlor just hoped the man would let them pretend a little longer to make them talk.


    “Fine,” Daegan snarled, then pointed the blade towards the younger prisoner. A soft white light began to emit from the dagger.


    “Stop! Stop, alright!” the girl shouted, “just don’t use that on me again.” Misandrei looked to her comrade with barely contained rage.


    “Our iceraft is about an hour’s walk west of here. There’s an Urundock local manning it, an Aeth named Ardy.”


    Fucking Ardy. Tanlor and Daegan locked eyes and Tanlor was shaking his head in anger.


    “That piece of shit sold us out,” Tanlor snapped.


    “Do you reckon he’s skipped out already?” Daegan asked Tanlor.


    “He’s a coward, but I reckon he’d want to be paid. How long did you tell him to wait?” Tanlor asked the girl.


    “Till midday,” she responded, avoiding looking at her superior who looked about ready to murder her.


    “Good,” Daegan said, “well that’s that then. See how easy that was? I’m a man of my word. So we’ll be on our way.”


    “You don’t want to question her more?” Tanlor asked Daegan, surprised. Now that they were getting answers, it seemed foolish to stop.


    “We have what we need,” Daegan shrugged, “and I did promise them that I wouldn’t press them for more.”


    Tanlor nodded. He had to admit Daegan was making the right decision there. They still barely knew Yaref and the others. To start going against their promises would set a bad impression with them and they needed their help in the coming days. There was also the chance that Misandrei and her companions might catch up to them again. Knowing that Daegan’s word was true might be crucial later down the line.


    Tanlor’s grandfather, Bodh Garron, had been a staunch believer in a man’s honour. He believed that if a man’s word couldn’t be trusted then it was worthless. He claimed that truth and reputation were more important than anything. But he was a liar. Bodh knew the kind of man that Tanlor and Rowan’s father had been. He had to have known. But he allowed the lie to protect them.


    “Finish up, Yaref,” Daegan said, “time to go.”


    “This man must rest for at least two days,” Yaref instructed Misandrei who eyed the healer with distrust. “I have done for him what I can. In truth, it’s a mystery that he managed to live long enough for me to try. These wounds would kill most men. Do not let my efforts go to waste, yes? Two days,” he held up two fingers, “minimum. Change the dressings on his wounds and clean them to prevent infection. I have healed the deepest lacerations and his internal bleeding. The rest he must do on his own.”


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    Tanlor and Daegan stepped away from the prisoners.


    “You want to do the honours?” Daegan nodded to the remaining icerafts in the docks. They already had one—packed up with supplies for a few weeks—set apart from the rest.


    “Seems like such a shame to burn ‘em all,” Tanlor sighed.


    “Can’t risk them catching up to us.”


    “You’re right,” Tanlor agreed and made his way towards the icerafts. He raised his hand, the skin was badly scarred and blistered from when he’d pulled too much heat through his topaz. That first assault from the rak against Twin Garde seemed so long ago now. But it hadn’t even been two weeks. He had a new topaz now, hanging around his neck from a cord.


    He felt the flush of warmth flow through him as he drew the heat contained in the topaz. The warmth spread from his chest towards his arms and hands, where the sensation turned to prickling, building until it felt like his hands were on fire. He directed the heat out from his, using his edir to guide it towards the rafts. They’d already doused them in lamp-oil they’d looted from the keep.


    Within moments, the rafts were ablaze. They burned naturally unlike how the wooden walls of Twin Garde had the previous night. There had been a charred corpse of a man outside the gate that they’d figured to be the Reldoni’s grenadier. Like the rest of them, he was enhanced. He’d been able to turn the walls to ash and cinder in less than an hour. But he still wasn’t immune to the internal fire. Pulling too much burned you from the inside out. Not even these enhanced runewielders were exceptions to that, it seemed.


    They waited a while until the fires had done too much damage to the rafts before settling into their own. It was a large raft—bigger than Ardy’s had been, although Tanlor couldn’t remember anything from the journey on the thing. Even still with Tanlor, Daegan, Yaref, Puck, Tar and Baroc all aboard it was a tight fit. Although Baroc had an entire bench to himself as none of the group wanted to be particularly close to the beastman.


    Puck was familiar with ice raft rigs. He’d been tasked with doing runs when he first came to Twin Garde, before training as a grenadier. He had Tar pushing them out from the dock with a pole while he worked on getting the sail up.


    Daegan and Tanlor set their eyes on the prisoners. The two women were speaking to each other but they were too far away to hear anything. So far, neither had attempted to free themselves from the bonds. Daegan had warned just before they left that he would use the dagger if they did.


    The sail flapped overhead as it was unfurled. It caught the wind quickly and the raft lurched forward with new momentum. The raft bounced and rattled and within moments, Puck was pulling on the levers that brought up the wooden wheels allowing the raft’s smoothed runners to touch the ice and glide them along.


    Puck shifted the course west, to follow along the shoreline of the frozen lake. Twin Garde quickly fell into the distance as winds took them forward.


    ***


    Ardy fidgeted on the bench of his ice raft, watching the dark trees apprehensively. The darkness of the night had seemed to swallow everything within the woods. Every sound had been amplified, every hoot of an owl, or the winds moving through the trees. Occasionally a wolf—or some other beast—would howl in the distance. The branches creaked and the ice cracked.


    The sounds all served to remind Ardy how isolated and alone he was. How exposed he was. His eyes scanned the woods, searching for any sign of movement, his ears straining to hear every sound. He would not allow any damned rakmen take him. Every rustle of leaves or snapped twig made his heart race, his mind flashing with the phantom dark shapes that were lurking in the woods.


    Ardy considered himself to be rather brave, truth be told. He’d lived through some harrowing experiences the past few days. Ever since he’d met Daegan-bloody-Tredain. But here he was, testing his courage and resilience, confronting his fear and overcoming it. He was going to get paid for this job even if it killed hi—nope, not that far. But he did plan to get paid this time.


    The first signs of dawn were coming. The stars became fewer and fewer until only a few of the largest clung stubbornly to the sky. The sky turned to a deep purple blue, spreading like a slowly incoming wave from the east. He’d survived the night at least. Ardy hoped that those Reldoni did too so that they could pay him.


    Ardy had promised to wait until midday and became more and more restless as the morning stretched on. The winter birds began their chorus and after a while, Ardy decided he could no longer stand it. The birdsongs were different but it reminded him too much of his home. Ardy hated the forest. It grated on him that the forest was supposed to be soothing and peaceful to his kind, but Ardy had often felt isolated and alienated by the other Aeth at Evier. He often felt frustrated that he could not appreciate the beauty and wonder of the woods in the way that other Aeth did.


    Many Aeth longed for the woods when apart from them, by contrast, Ardy couldn’t wait to be free of them. It made him feel like a stranger in his own skin. He sought the flask of whitewhiskey he’d taken with him and chugged back the last few drops in it, savouring the warmth as it spread in him. The warmth reminded Ardy of the sea. Of the sun on his face. He closed his eyes and imagined the spray of salt water on a lurching ship and smiled. Perhaps, he should finally return to where he truly felt happy.


    The sound of a flapping sail pulled Ardy from his reverie, his eyes flicking open in annoyance. His head jerked towards the source. Out on the ice was a raft gliding from the east. That wasn’t good. Ardy felt his heart quicken. The rak don’t know how to work the ice rafts. He told himself meekly. He stood up and tried to discern who was piloting the thing but it was still too far off to see.


    His fingers twitched nervously, and he began to pace back and forth on his raft. Ardy’s options were very limited. If they were indeed rakmen or outlaws, Ardy wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight. He could attempt to hide on shore but if they are rak then they’d find him quickly. That would also mean abandoning his raft, his sole source of income and his only means of making it back to Urundock. No, the shore was not an option.


    Ardy’s raft was sleek but it was by no means designed for high speeds. It was a roughshod contraption that suffered many years of wear and tear. He’d never had to outrun another raft on it before and didn’t particularly feel like starting now. But fleeing across the ice might be my only choice if they are rak.


    His heart started thumping in his chest as the raft began to angle towards him. Shit. His hands grew clammy with sweat. Despite his fear, Ardy tried to remain calm and focused. He took deep breaths, steadying his nerves. He knew that whatever happened next, he would need to be ready to act quickly and decisively.