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    Black scorch marks were burned into the ground where they’d fought the kozimuz. A ring of singed bushes and other plants lined the entirety of the clearing. The dirt hadn’t even settled over the buried corpses. To Goslin, the events felt like long in the past, but in reality, only a few weeks had passed since he stood here last.


    It didn’t take long to find Hart. His friend lay on his back, his eyes closed. A long gash cut down from his shoulder to his hip, a jagged blood-encrusted line across his chest. The sound of buzzing flies filled the air.


    "A friend?" Asken said.


    Goslin got down on his knees and placed his hand on Hart’s. It was ice cold. "A friend."


    "What happened here?"


    "We fought a monster from another world." He stood, feeling empty. "We’ll lay him to rest properly."


    Kax returned by the time they’d finished digging the hole. "The village is empty," he said, eyeing Hart’s body.


    "They must have sought shelter elsewhere," Goslin said.


    "Or they were taken by the rhinn. Tyriu was all empty too, remember?" Kax inched closer and stared down at their fallen friend. "So, he’s really gone then."


    Goslin swallowed. "He’s really gone."


    Kax nodded and grabbed Hart’s tunic, picking him up in his arms before slowly lowering him into the makeshift grave. "Good thing you killed the kozimuz. Justice was served."


    Goslin thought back to the wall in Tyralien and his desperate struggle for survival against the mimic creature who took the shape of his friend. If not for his shield, Goslin wouldn’t be alive now. The kozimuz could be wearing his face, talking to Kax, and plotting his next victim.


    He stared at Hart’s lifeless face. His friend was gone, long dead, and he hadn''t even known. A pang passed through him.


    "Could you?" he asked, waving his hand at the pile of dirt.


    "Sure," Kax said. "You sure you don’t want to cremate him?"


    It was custom in Eldsprak, but there wasn’t enough time. "No, this will have to serve."


    Kax started refilling the hole using his boot. The rest of the soldiers helped. A moment later, the clearing had yet another mound of fresh soil.


    That’s what his friend amounted to after all the time they’d spent together since their childhood. Just another hole in the ground.


    "Goodbye, my friend."


    Goslin swallowed hard before addressing his men. "Move out. We’ll spend the night back in the village. Perhaps Torkel found some supplies."


    They left Torkel in the village. There was no sense in making him walk all the way to the clearing on his injured leg. Goslin knew that they would need to take a closer look at the wound after they settled in for the night.


    "Brought some supplies," Kax said after they’d been walking in silence for a few minutes.


    "You did?"


    Kax nodded and handed over a piece of rolled-up paper. "Found the rhinn outpost. Only six men with some food and water. The officer, I think it was an officer, had this on him."


    "You shouldn’t have fought six men on your own."


    "It wasn’t so bad," Kax said, pursing his lips. "But they appeared more skilled than those in Tyralien. Best be careful from now on."


    One of the lads interrupted them. "You killed six rhinn on your own?"


    Kax grinned over his shoulder. "Of course! I’ll be remembered for longer than the heroes. Just you wait!" He turned back to Goslin and said in a low voice, “The boy is dead."


    Goslin blinked. "What?"


    "Bled out," Kax said. "Buried him myself. You might want to mention it to the others before we get back."


    "But he seemed fine," Goslin protested.


    "Did he?" Kax asked. "The lad was pale as snow, like he’d risen from the grave."


    "What is going on?" Asken asked.


    Goslin hesitated. "I’m afraid dear Torkel passed away. His wound was more dire than we thought."


    Asken nodded, like he expected it. The rest of the group exchanged looks but didn’t comment. As far as Goslin knew, these men weren’t comrades before joining him. Though, that would change as they fought alongside one another. One of the other lads looked pale. Sweat ran down his face and the tunic he wore was plastered to his chest.


    "You," Goslin said. "How are you doing, friend?"


    The young man smiled weakly. "I’m fine. Just a scratch."


    "A scratch? From battle?"


    He nodded. "Didn’t want to bother anyone."


    "Let’s see this scratch," Kax said.


    The young man blushed and dropped his spear and shield to remove his tunic. "I changed the shirt afterwards. Like I said, it’s just a scratch."


    Goslin moved to the young soldier and examined the wound. Like the boy said, it was just a scratch, but it looked red and angry. A droplet of yellow pus oozed out of the wound.


    "It’s itchy, mostly," the lad said.


    "Rot," Asken grunted.


    "What’s that?" Goslin asked, wiping away the yellow gunk with his sleeve.


    "Battle rot. It should have been cleaned with strong alcohol right away."


    Kax looked up at the older soldier. "We have strong alcohol?"


    "We don’t."


    "So, what do we do?" Goslin asked.


    Asken fell silent. The injured soldier shifted uneasily before saying, "Like I said, it’s just an itchy scratch. No blood, even. I’ll be fine. No need for you to worry yourself, Lord Steerian."


    "To you, I’m Goslin, not Lord Steerian." He turned to Kax. "Did the rhinn have any supplies for tending wounds?"


    "Just food and water."


    "Well then," Goslin said, eyeing the wound again. "Keep your chin up, lad. I’m sure it’ll be fine. I believe I saw some bottles of alcohol at the mayor’s house on our last visit. Enough for all of us, I’m sure!"


    The group of young soldiers let out a small cheer as they walked on. The young man let his tunic fall over his wound and smiled weakly at Goslin.


    Goslin returned the smile, but it vanished when he looked away. If only Tomford was still at their side. If such a small scrape was enough to put a soldier out of commission, not to speak of the already dead man, they would need to be far more careful in the future. Goslin hadn’t realized just how good they had it with a healer in their group. Hopefully, Tomford would return before long. Goslin missed his friend, and not just for the healing he provided. After seeing Hart''s lifeless body, Goslin realized how much he truly missed his comrades.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    And what of Sarien? The young and powerful mage disappeared with the beast he attempted to banish. With his abilities, he should have been able to return immediately, but he hadn''t. Goslin had no idea as to where Sarien disappeared off to, but he reminded himself that his friend would return, just like the time before. He just needed to be patient. Sarien had his own journey ahead of him, and Goslin had his. For the time being, they were traveling on two different paths.


    Goslin forced his thoughts away from the others. Eldsprak was his responsibility and his alone.


    "We’re here," Kax announced. A few bulging packs leaned against the building nearest the path. "Food and water." He grabbed one, kept walking, and waved for the lads to follow. "Let’s see about that booze, shall we?"


    They hurried after Kax while Asken and Goslin stayed behind, hoisting the remaining packs on their backs.


    "You know," Asken said. "I’ve seen wounds like that before. Just a nick can be all it takes to kill a man."


    "You don’t think he’ll recover?" Goslin asked. "Even if we cleanse it with alcohol?"


    Asken shrugged another pack on. "You never know. Some get better all on their own, some after having their wound cleaned. Some simply succumb to the rot. It’s a nasty business."


    Goslin followed the disappearing soldiers with his gaze, especially the young one that faltered along after his comrades. He felt the weight of responsibility for their wellbeing. How many was he leading to their deaths?


    "When will we know?"


    Asken shrugged. He cleared his throat, then spat on the ground. "Probably soon."


    They carried the packs to the mayor’s house, the same one where they’d stayed after slaying the kozimuz. Laughter drifted out from the open front door.


    "You fought well against those rhinn, and you know about battle rot. You have experience in combat?" Goslin asked the older man.


    Asken straightened a little. "Not much. Worked on a minor noble’s estate most of my life. Guard by title but did a little of everything. We were overrun and decided to head east and shelter behind Kleotram’s walls."


    "I’m familiar with most houses. Which family did you work for?"


    Asken scratched his beard. "Yours. Well, your father’s."


    Goslin stiffened and placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. "I don’t recognize you."


    "Relax, lad. It was a Steerian estate, but the only Steerian we ever saw was your father. He kept it small and private."


    "What do you mean?"


    Asken looked away. "Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut."


    "You don’t have to fear any reprisals from me. Not for speaking the truth."


    "Women," Asken said, simply.


    Goslin sighed. "Women." Of course, his father kept an entire estate just for his mistress or mistresses. He wasn’t surprised, he found, or even angry. Resignation was the closest feeling at hand. Did it matter in the end? Goslin didn’t even know if his father still drew breath. With the kingdom collapsing around them, this revelation didn’t rank high enough to garner attention or outrage.


    Inside, Goslin found the others standing in a circle around the injured soldier. One was cleaning the wound with a bottle of clear liquid, and from the sharp smell, they located the alcohol. Perspiration beaded on the young soldier’s face, his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes glassy. Not a good sign. They took turns drinking straight out of the bottle and pouring some on the wound each time it was the injured soldier’s turn.


    Goslin held up a hand, passing when the bottle was handed his way. Someone needed to keep a clear head.


    "We leave at dawn," he said before heading into the back of the house where he found a proper bed. He poured clean water out of his skin into a small basin and began scrubbing his face and hands. That’s all he could do at the moment. The dirt, blood, and sweat made his skin itch, and he longed for a proper bath, but he no longer felt the overwhelming desire to be clean. His aversion to grime wasn’t as overpowering as it’d been in the past, not since Tyralien.


    He didn’t even bother to undress before laying down and closing his eyes.


    At first light, Goslin made his way to the common room. Everyone else slept on the floor, except for Kax, who’d claimed the table as his bed. Asken sat in a chair against the wall, his feet propped on top of Kax’s legs. The wounded lad was by the door, and Goslin bent down to get a better look while he slept. His breathing was quick and shallow, and he looked even paler than before. The tunic he’d worn was draped across his shoulders, along with a blanket.


    "How is he doing?" Kax asked, blinking the sleep from his eyes.


    Goslin removed the blanket. The makeshift bandage was stained brown with dried blood and yellow with pus. "Not good. He isn’t getting better." He put a hand to the lad’s forehead. Burning hot. "He can’t continue with us. Not like this."


    "What then?"


    "Everyone up!" Goslin barked. Asken started and fell from the chair in a crash, and the rest of the troops woke with bleary eyes. He gave them a second to gather themselves, then continued, "Our friend is in bad shape. Someone needs to take him back to Kleotram to see a healer."


    "There are no Vatner healers in Kleotram," Asken said, rubbing at his eyes. "But they’ve got plenty of ordinary ones."


    Goslin nodded. "Who volunteers to transport the lad back?" Five hands shot into the air immediately, and he nodded to one. "You go. Better leave right away."


    Kax cleared his throat. "There might be rhinn behind us. It isn’t safe." All hands withdrew.


    "The lad can’t come with us," Goslin said.


    "I know," Kax said.


    "So, what do you suggest?"


    Kax looked Goslin in the eye for a long moment, then raised an eyebrow.


    "No. You don’t mean that," Goslin said.


    "We can’t all go back every time someone is injured," Kax countered.


    Goslin looked around the room. All eyes were on him. It was his decision. "I?—"


    "I can ride back by myself. Just get me on a horse," the injured boy said as he struggled to sit up.


    Goslin got down to on one knee. "What’s your name?"


    The young soldier forced himself to his feet, then propped himself up against the wall. "That is of no concern to you, lordling." He stumbled to the door and pushed it open. Cold morning air streamed in, and everyone hurried out after him.


    There was no point arguing with the lad. He was set on returning on his own. Still, it stung to see him huddled over his horse as he disappeared down the path that would take him back to the main road. His chances of making it back to Kleotram were slim, but Kax was right. They couldn’t all return to make sure he got back safely.


    Two soldiers gone already. Goslin knew more would follow before this was all over. Death and injury were inevitable parts of any armed conflict. Goslin couldn’t protect them all, but he resolved to do better. "Report any injury you sustain, no matter how minor," he said, heading back inside the house for his pack. "Get some food in you. We have to get moving."


    In less than an hour, after emerging from the forest path, they found more rhinn soldiers. The clash of steel against steel reached Goslin before the shouting and crying. After rounding a bend, Goslin and the others found a hundred Eldsprak troops fighting against a contingent of rhinn. The rhinn easily outnumbered the soldiers two to one. Men in heavy metal plate barked orders to pikemen to press the attack as the rhinn flowed against them, threatening to surround the Eldians.


    Goslin didn’t hesitate and set off at top speed along the right flank. He drew his sword. "Charge!"


    Two rhinn were trampled underfoot before his horse came to a stop against the throng of enemies. He swung again and again, cutting into the line of rhinn. They shied away from the horse at first, giving Goslin’s troops enough time to catch up. Together, they pressed the attack.


    Kax hurtled through the air with no sign of his horse anywhere, landing behind the line of rhinn and disappearing from sight. A spear struck for Goslin’s chest, but he parried it. There were so many of them, and they didn’t fall quite as easily as those he’d fought in Tyriu. The rhinn he came up against here at least knew how to hold a weapon. A downward swing from Goslin’s blade took a rhinn soldier in the shoulder, and he fell screaming.


    Something tugged hard on Goslin''s tunic, and he was pulled out of his saddle. He hit the ground with a thud that left him breathless. A hoof stamped right by his head, and he rolled way, swearing.


    Goslin got to his feet, but his horse was already lost in the chaos. He heard Kax laughing. Asken and the others were still mounted and did an admirable job keeping most of the rhinn from Goslin, but there were just too many of them. Goslin cursed at his own lack of restraint. It was like he hadn’t learned a thing since leaving the academy, always rushing headlong into whatever conflict he found.


    He sidestepped a thrust from a soldier. He noticed that the rhinn was wearing a slightly different uniform than the others, one with two stripes across his shoulder. Goslin swung his sword in a wide arc downward. The rhinn blocked the attack and grinned, grabbing the hilt of his own sword in both hands. Goslin feinted, then cut, but his attack missed miserably, and he overextended himself.


    His opponent bought the bait and turned his body to deliver a blow that would send Goslin into the mud. What the rhinn didn’t expect was the obsidian shield Goslin carried. He put it between himself and the rhinn, readying himself. The sword struck just as Goslin got his feet under him, and he stood and thrust right into the rhinn’s chest, piercing him all the way through. The look of utter confusion on the dying rhinn''s face was one he had seen before. The rhinn''s arm was gone at the shoulder, obliterated by Goslin’s shield.


    Nothing could get through his shield, not since Sarien imbued it with his mysterious power. It didn’t just protect Goslin, it was also a fearsome weapon. Goslin spun, hitting another rhinn with the flat of the shield. It shattered the soldier, scattering him into pieces and showering his compatriots with gore.


    A spear came out of nowhere, but Goslin lifted his shield up in time. The haft splintered as the spearhead shot away from the shield and back into the attacking rhinn, throwing him down to the ground.


    The rhinn eyed him warily. They now knew what he was capable of.


    "Keep going!" Goslin roared. The look of fear on the rhinns'' faces sent a shiver of exhilaration through him, and he planted the rim of his shield in the next opponent’s face. The rhinn soldier’s skull blew apart.


    After that, the rhinn broke their line and ran. Goslin gasped for breath. At some point in the fight, he''d lost his sword and it took him a moment to locate it. Chunks of flesh lay atop it, and he kicked them aside to get to his weapon.


    They’d won a battle against the invaders. Finally, a step in the right direction. Fyrie, the capital, lay many steps away, but they’d get there in due time. Goslin would see to it.