Book 4: Chapter 41: The Surface

Penitent

They turned their mounts toward the mountains after the first day of travel. The swamplands they’d grown used to in more central Cantalia giving way to craggy rock and sparse fields. The air grew cold and thin and the colorful villagers and guards that Michael was used to seeing in the swamps were replaced by men and women wearing simple uncolored wool.

They reached a large town at the base of a mountain. Traders were moving actively in and out, with heavy traffic in the streets, and there were guards in Burndan colors patrolling everywhere. As they approached, several men moved to stop them. There was fear in their eyes, which made their attempt to get in the path of their titled steeds all the more impressive.

When they slowed and Gabriel made himself more visible, the men stood straight and gave an instinctive salute.

“My King!” One of them said, a man wearing emblems that marked him a sergeant. “We were not expecting you, sire.”

Gabriel smiled and leapt off the back of his steed. “I apologize for the surprise. My mount seems to travel faster than the message I had sent.”

“No sir, any fault is with us.”

“You and your men moved in front of horses that could trample giants. No fault is with you.” He clapped the man on the shoulder. “Have your men take these steeds to the stables and have them fed and watered. I need you to take me to the lieutenant in charge here.”

“Yes sir.”

They dismounted and Michael gave his stallion a final firm pat on the neck in thanks for all of its hard work. They followed the sergeant as they wove through the streets of the town. There was a bit of tension with all of the Burndan soldiers patrolling, but overall things seemed stable. Aside from the soldiers and the locals there were also dozens of dwarves milling about. He heard deals being made, insults thrown, and orders shouted between them as merchant carts were loaded and unloaded.

“Makes me feel tall.”

“You are a head taller than all of us anyway,” replied Pyotr.

“Thanks for reminding me,” he answered with a smile.

They reached a warehouse that seemed to have been converted into a headquarters for the soldiers. They were waved quickly inside and all of the soldiers quickly jumped to attention and saluted as Gabriel entered. He responded with quick acknowledgements or nods as he moved through and they entered a corner room in which a young man with spectacles and an immaculate uniform was pouring over paperwork.

He looked at them and upon seeing the King he stood and pounded his fist against his chest.

“Lord Castor, I was not expecting you.”

“Sebas, it’s good to see you again. How’s your boy?”

“Moved on from the rocking horse you gifted us to the stack of books.”

“That’s alright, your youngest will get some use out of it soon enough.”

“That’s true, sir. May I ask why you’re here? I would never have expected you so far from the front.”

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there was an attack on my family.”

Sebas gritted his teeth, his bookish expression changing to an enraged one. “That is unacceptable my lord. Who would attack your family like that?”

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The calm formality of the man had completely gone away.

“It was rift creatures. We’d been lucky to avoid them so far, but they made an attempt in the heart of the kingdom. My mother… she was slain protecting my children.” He gestured to Michael. “Had it not been for the Paladin of Old Hume here I would’ve lost far more than my mother.”

“And now we are going to take the fight to them?”

“Yes. I am requesting a ceasefire with Swandia and turning my attention to aiding wherever I can against these monsters. Unfortunately, there is no way to move troops through Swandia or anywhere else to Old Hume right now.”

“The dwarves?” asked Sebas.

“Smart man,” replied Gabriel.

Sebas took a breath to calm himself down. “We have been slowly working to establish a good relationship with them. It has mostly amounted to formalizing continued trade now that Cantalia has been conquered. Aside from that we were looking at increasing the mineral trade between us. I wouldn’t say we have a bad relationship, but I don’t know that we have a good enough one to move troops through their tunnels.”

“Let me worry about that. I just need you to set up a meeting with whatever contacts we have to get started.”

“Our primary contact actually hasn’t been a dwarf at all. It’s been a woman named Francesca. She’s from Tusynia of all places, but she seems well liked by the dwarves.”

Michael and the others exchanged surprised glances.

“What are the chances?” asked Pyotr.

“Not that low,” offered Marcus. “We knew she was heading toward the mountains with some dwarves. I already thought it might happen.”

“You know the woman he’s referring to?” asked Gabriel.

“Yes. She was with us when we deserted frin Stent. We got her as far as the border between Swandia and Svict and then we parted,” answered Michael.

“She’s going to ask where Davi is,” said Marcus with a frown.

“And we’ll tell her,” replied Ollie. “I’ve still got the drawings Davi did of her in my pack. I was hoping to find her and give them to her after everything was over, but… I guess I can do it now.”

“I’m having trouble telling if you all knowing her will be a good thing for us or a bad one,” said Gabriel with a frown.

“Good professionally, and bad personally,” replied Michael. “I’ll explain later.”

Gabriel nodded and looked at Sebas. “Please, arrange a meeting as soon as possible. I’ll also need quarters for myself and my allies.”

“If there are any injured, either soldiers, townsfolk, or dwarves, please let me know so that I can heal them,” added Michael.

“There was a cave-in just a few days ago. I’ll have one of my men take you to the injured.”

Michael nodded and separated from the others to be led to an apothecary's shop where a number of men, women, and dwarves with crushed limbs had been placed on beds to be looked after. He made his way inside with his escort and saw a few fearful glances in his direction until he raised a golden lit hand and restored everyone’s broken limbs. The effort was minimal, but he stayed to help a few people out of casts and reassure them that they were alright.

“You couldn’t have waited until the workday was over?” asked a dwarf with a scraggly black beard as he helped him to remove the wrappings from his hand.

“Most dwarves I’ve met would’ve been working even with the broken hand,” he said, shaking his head dramatically. “I thought you were supposed to be harder workers than humans?”

He frowned and nodded. “Dammit. Hate that you’re right.”

Once he was done there he went to join the others at a small inn that had been rented out for Burndan army officers. A woman was apologizing profusely for the state of the inn and the quality of its food to Gabriel who was reassuring her that it was a wonderful Inn and she had nothing to be concerned about. He slid in next to the others who were sharing a mug of ale by the fireplace. Marcus handed him one as he sat down.

“You raised that one right,” said Pyotr after they shared a brief toast among one another.

“I wish I could take credit, but I only had him for his first seventeen years. This is all him.”

“The seventeen most important years,” replied Pyotr. “Don’t sell yourself short, brother.”

Michael smiled and had his ale. Gabriel joined them for two, then spent time checking in with his men and making sure that everything was in order. After a while they all retired for the evening and slept on beds which were an improvement from the hard ground, but quite a ways diminished from the feathered mattresses in the dowager’s estate.

Michael dreamed of darkness and impossible ceilings filled with veins of silver, gold, and metals he couldn’t identify. Gems glittered all around him like stars in the darkness that seemed to be wrapped around him like a blanket. He could feel a great presence, similar, but different from the gods he knew. It surrounded him in that moment and he could feel a terrible strength within it, but also something else. A blight of some kind that had spread through it like the veins of metal that surrounded him. A roar of agony came from the darkness and he felt it within his soul.

He awoke in the dark of early morning and said a prayer. He’d had a vision, and it hadn’t been sent from the gods he served.