Chương 54: Still Warm

The rain failed to follow them into the next morning, clear skies and sunlight peering through the stained glass window. Though Siv was usually a great camp cook, no one complained about the pork jerky and hot honeyed water for today's breakfast. The half-elf looked absolutely knackered. A dark circle shadowed his good eye and he yawned every five minutes, but still managed to explain what he'd pieced together throughout the night.

"So let me get this straight," Joel said, finishing the last of his jerky.

"This Father Bernard found some strange altar, relic, or whatever, somewhere out in the woods. And he thinks he can hear the gods' voices through it." He paused, thinking of the words — 'false gods' — that were smeared across the priest's book.

"But why destroy the statues of the Tetrarchy then?" Siv grimaced.

"Somewhere along the line, the words change, mentioning a true voice or song. And how it opened his eyes to the lies of the world."

"So the old man lost his marbles," Alis said as she summoned a small flame at her wand's tip, using it to reheat her drink.

"Or it could be something more profane," Al said solemnly. The thought of their encounter in the sagani's Sanctum revisited Joel's mind. What Wirbald had called that damned monster. A daemon. Were they talking about that?

"Like a daemon?" he said bluntly. Everyone went quiet like Joel had cursed loudly at a funeral. Finally, Alis snorted derisively.

"I think it'll take a little more than a priest in a rural village to summon a daemon. That's something we don't have to worry about here. After all, this 'voice' could be any sort of entity."

"Also, Joel, I'm aware your memory's coming back in bits," Al said, tone still stern.

"But avoid mentioning such things out loud, especially in public. You don't want some misunderstanding that leads to a report to the Church." Joel felt his face go red.

"Oh, sorry."

"You did nothing wrong," Siv said comfortingly.

"It's just that locals out here have their superstitions and it's best to not enflame them." He gave a pointed look at Alis, who rolled her bright eyes.

"Either way, from what I gathered, it seemed like this voice urged him to open the altar…" There was clear hesitation.

"To obtain some sort of power that Father Bernard becomes increasingly obsessive over."

"Why'd you say 'open the altar' like that?" Alis pointed out, prodding her brother with her foot.

"Huh? What are you hiding?" He pushed her kicks away.

"Enough, enough. He did write how to open the altar, though most of it is indiscernible, and let's say the word 'sacrifice' was mentioned many times." Joel said what they were all thinking.

"The missing villagers from the lumber mill." Siv rubbed his tired eye while nodding.

"Exactly what I was thinking."

"Should we inform the village elder?" Joel looked towards Alis. She waved him off, taking a sip of her warm water.

"He'll think the exact same thing you did and report it to the Church."

"Is that really that bad?" Siv stifled his yawn.

"The Church can be overzealous at punishment and less thorough at investigation."

"That's one way of putting it," Al said tersely.

"It might also explain why the knights are here. Perhaps the Avenharts didn't want to come under the Tetrarchy's eye. This allows them to handle things in secret."

"They'd have to know about the altar though," Siv mentioned.

"Only one way to find out." Al got up, packing his bag.

"We'll speak to the lieutenant and see if they know anything. The information alone could be helpful."

"Maybe I should go speak with him," Joel said, also rising to his feet. He thought back to how Syr Gathin had reacted to Al's presence yesterday.

"He seemed pretty amiable to me after I helped with skinning that wolf."

"Please don't help him with that again," Alis pleaded melodramatically.

"I don't want you smelling awful for the rest of the day." Joel scoffed, pretending to be wounded by the words.

"I'll try my best." Tying his cutlass to his belt, he returned a nod to Al before heading out the door. The fresh smell of a morning after a heavy rain greeted him and the sun's warmth made the dreary last night into a distant memory. Joel stretched his arms, hearing cracks, as he walked out of the humble chapel to the Dagalt well. He quickly realized how much he stood out to these folks. The villagers, mostly human themselves, stared curiously at him as he passed through the hamlet's main square.

To say that it was making him feel self-conscious was an understatement. He could feel his ears getting hotter than the early sun should've allowed. At first, he'd assumed it was because he was a foreigner, even if he was a human. His jet black hair and prominent cheekbones were features found in the Ahnjin Archipelago, a faraway continent, or so he'd been told. However, as he passed by some of the whispering villagers, he realized they were curious about the Freewalkers more than anything.

He'd been deemed as one and it was hard to blame them, his sword's ivory hilt gleaming in the sunlight. Joel supposed it was better than being pegged as bandits. He tried a friendly wave at two women at the well, but they turned away with pensive glances. Pivoting the wave into a scratch of his head made him feel even more embarrassed, so he hurried past the square to the harvested fields. His jog stuttered to a stop as he found the fields empty, the knights' encampment gone.

He ran back at full tilt to the well, ignoring the fact that he'd frightened the women.

"Where did they go?" Glancing at her companion, the rotund woman placed down her bucket.

"Who?" A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"The knights."

"Oh, well, they left this morning, dear."

"Did they say where?" She laughed.

"Knights don't go about telling us smallfolk what their business is." Of course, he didn't know why he'd asked that.

"Maybe you saw where they went?"

"They rode off into the woods. It looked like quite a hubbub." She pointed to the forest behind the village. The other woman, who hadn't met Joel's gaze, spoke up meekly.

"I saw Hempel speak to them before they left..." Joel turned his attention to her.

"Hempel?"

"The truffler," said the hefty woman, nodding to an outside field. In the distance, a man sat facing the woods, petting a dog.

"Thank you," Joel said, giving each woman a grateful nod, before he bolted away. Hopping over the fence, he made his way across the reaped field, which had become a muddy mess from the storm. The shaggy dog noticed him first, turning its panting face, which made his owner's head follow. Joel smiled and did a second try at waving. Fortunately, this time, the sun-hat wearing man waved back, though he looked skittish.

"Hempel?" Joel asked calmly, raising his hands to appear unthreatening. Getting closer, he realized that the man wasn't only jumpy — he was scared.

"A-aye, I'm he." Hempel's voice shook, glancing at Joel's sword. His dog got up and bared its teeth with growl. Joel took a step further back and raised his hands a little higher.

"I mean you no harm, friend. I'm here with the Freewalkers."

"A Freewalker, huh?" Hempel gulped and nodded.

"Down, boy," he whistled at his dog, who promptly heeded its owner's word and flopped down.

"You're here to help too?"

"Honestly, we want to, but we're in the dark regarding what's going on." Joel dropped his hands.

"I've heard you spoke with the knights before they left?"

"I did."

"Can you tell me what you spoke of?"

"I can't. Syr Gathin said to not mention this to anyone. He didn't want no one else getting hurt." Damn, that was annoying due diligence.

"Listen, us Freewalkers," Joel said, withholding the cringe of lying.

"We're strong. I'm sure you heard of all that trouble in Wardenhal?" Please, please know. Hempel finally nodded. Joel breathed in relief.

"We took care of that. Like I said, we're strong, and we can help. But to do that, we need to know what's going on." The truffler still looked unsure, giving his scruffy dog another loving scratch.

"I don't know much about fighting or what not, but I know having more folks on your side is always better." Joel nodded along, refraining from interrupting the man. Hempel's sun-kissed face scrunched as he scanned Joel, who tried to smile in the same disarming way that Alis always does. It seemed to work as Hempel sighed.

"I'll tell you what I told the knights. They might need your aid after all…"

"Orcs?" Al said, his brow furrowing, as he packed his horse's saddle.

"He said he saw an orc warband in the woods?" The young man looked skeptical.

"That's what he told me." Joel shrugged.

"I tried to get more out of him, but he said he ran to the knights once he saw the orcs. There were a dozen or so, and some of them supposedly were mounted."

"It could explain the lack of wildlife," Siv commented.

"Orcs are known to be voracious hunters."

"There shouldn't be an orc warband this far into the duchy," Al said. Alis had already mounted her saddle, turning her horse over to face them.

"Does a dozen orcs count as a warband? They could be from the Marcher lands too. Doesn't an orc run one of those cities?" Al pulled himself onto his horse.

"Even so, it's unlikely that they'd get through unchecked."

"Syr Gathin and his men are riding over though." Joel hiked up on his horse's back, following after the trio.

"Hopefully both sides will have the sense to use words rather than swords. Orc warriors aren't easily trifled with," Al said, pushing his horse into a swifter pace.

"Let's hurry." The road to the woods, a dirt path, quickly disappeared as they rode through the underbrush. Dimming their approach, tall trees covered the sky with their branches. Rays of sunlight pierced through the canopy and provided small spotlights on the woodland. Low bushes, winding roots, and the decreased visibility had slowed their horses. Despite all of that, tracking the knights was easy enough.

Broken branches, stomped shrubs, and horseshoe prints in the mud — anyone with a working eye would've been able to follow the signs. The tracks looked noisy, yet the forest was unnaturally quiet and still. Just as when they had approached Dagalt, there wasn't a single sound one would expect in the woods. The shrill cry of a songbird, the rustle of a moving squirrel, anything. Instead, the air hung hushed like it was worried about scaring them away. They'd become quiet as well.

There was no small talk or unnecessary noise beyond their horses' clomps through the brush. Eventually, their travel had slowed to a crawl, where it no longer made any sense to risk the horses, so they dismounted and tied the horses to trees. Noticing Al feeding his horse an apple, Joel did the same as their steeds seemed nervous and jittery.

"Stay close," Al ordered, walking deeper into the woods.

"No getting lost. But if you do, meet back at the horses." One by one, the rest of them followed after Al. The trail was even more obvious than before. It was apparent that the knights had driven their horses to push through the crowded undergrowth. Ripped strands of fabric were caught on shrubs and some branches had been hacked at horseback height.

With his recent [Horseback Riding Proficiency], he knew how bad an idea this was, how easily one's steed could trip and— Al put his hand up, stopping all of them in their tracks. He took a couple more careful steps forward. Using his greatsword, he pushed some of the overgrown brush out of the way. His shoulders stiffened.

"Four hells," he muttered before turning back to them.

"It's fine." The rest of them approached and spotted what had surprised Al. In the dense thicket, the corpse of a dead horse lay; its front leg had snapped at an awful angle. The horse's barding, still left on the creature, was stained crimson. Whether it was because he had seen so much blood, or the [Horseback Riding Proficiency] kicking in, Joel knew that the poor creature had been put out of its misery. Taking off his gloves, Al knelt close to the horse. He dabbed its blood and rubbed it between his fingers.

"Still warm. They can't be that far ahead of us."

"They must be in a rush if they're willing to risk their mounts." Siv looked deeper into the woods. Pausing, he tilted his head slightly.

"I hear something." They all went quiet, straining to hear whatever he'd heard. Nothing. Siv shook his head.

"Gone."

"What was it?" Joel asked.

"Sounded like singing." Those words were enough to make them share concerned expressions. Father Bernard's journal had mentioned a voice and a song in his written mad ramblings. Everyone was on the same page, blades drawn and wand kindled. They spread out, walking side by side and keeping Joel near the center. Though they followed the chaotic path the knights had left, the thicket had become more untraversable. Even in the forest's cool shade, it only took five minutes of hiking to make Joel sweat thoroughly.

Mud, brambles, and branches all grabbed at him with every step he took. It felt undignified to use his Seahorn cutlass as a common machete, but it helped in avoiding overextended branches. Wiping the sweat from his eye, he swiped away at the reaching shrubbery. In his annoyance, he failed to notice the other three had stopped, only looking up after Alis spoke.

"I can hear that," she said plainly. Then Joel heard it. A shout getting louder and a rustle fast approaching. Out of the thicket, a fully armored knight came bursting forth, longsword raised in hand.