Chương 103: Impossible

Interlude 13 One of the donkeys died by the next dawn. She shouldn't have been surprised. Miriam was pushing them hard, and they were not used to such long runs - they were farm animals, not courier steeds. She was forced to give the remaining animal a break, though every inch the sun rose in the east she imagined another footstep in the woods behind them. Miriam had no idea if she was aiming correctly for the port or not.

She had pushed her sledge with Namiah on it to the south until she thought they had cleared the city of Marybel, then continued south another seven hours more. From there she had turned west, hoping to find herself colliding with a road she could use to make better time along the coast. Namiah had woken up in fits and starts. At first he was incoherent, babbling about someone named Elain, but as time went on he seemed to come more to himself.

He thanked her again for saving his life, but criticized her plan to avoid Marybel - all his resources were there, he argued. Miriam was adamant. Marybel meant death, and seeing as how Miriam was the one leading the remaining donkey, they would go where she decided to go. He either finally accepted this or drifted off to sleep - either way, he stopped talking. The coastal road was empty. She thought this must be because of the coup taking place in Marybel - government violence was never good for trade…

at least not until you could see who would end up on top. Either way, it was the one small slice of good fortune they'd experienced so far. WIth the smoother ride on the weathered road, Namiah seemed able to stay awake more. He was actually well trained in battlefield first aid and was able to instruct her on ways to better treat his wound. By the end of the second day he was looking much better, though he wouldn't be able to walk anytime soon. Miriam worried for their remaining donkey.

She had no food for it, but she made sure to lead it to every stream and puddle they ran into to drink. Now that Namiah was no longer on death's door and they had put distance between themselves and Marybel, Miriam finally allowed herself and the pack animal to take a long night's rest. In the morning she was surprised to see that Namiah had been able to build a small fire during the night, though now as he slumbered again it was only ashes. He didn't wake up as she pushed the beleaguered donkey south once again.

The port city had just come into view when the donkey sat down and refused to go further. Miriam couldn't blame him, but it made her life damn inconvenient. She was just working out how she could possibly pull the sledge on her own when Namiah woke up and insisted he could walk. It wasn't far, he argued. And really they had no other choice. They made it to a pair of hills overlooking the dockyard before Namiah's wound started bleeding again.

He had to sit down against the slope of the hill, completely winded and in pain. Miriam decided to check out the lay of the land of the dockyard while he caught his breath. She scrambled to the top - it wasn't very steep, but it was all gravel and loose rocks - and saw the entirety of the docks. Every single dock was empty - save for one.

"How is this my luck?" she whispered breathlessly to herself. When she reached the base of the hill she relayed their predicament to Namiah.

"Only one ship, and it's the gods' own rotten luck that it's the only ship in the entire Andol sea that would refuse me passage. The Isabella." Namiah listened to her tale about sneaking onto the merchant ship and her later expulsion from it. He nodded.

"Challenging, for sure. But politics may win the day when mistrust endangers it." She rolled her eyes. He was always saying things like that.

"What colors are on its crest? That will tell me to which merchant house the Isabella belongs."

"Green and white." He hung his head.

"Dire news. That is the House of Staurnel. They are neither allies with my family, nor known enemies."

"Isn't that good? We will not be welcomed with open arms, but maybe they won't shoot us on sight." Namiel shook his head.

"My family's future hangs by a thread. Our enemies are ascendant. What unaffiliated house would throw in their lot with us?" Miriam sighed. All they could do was try. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. It was nearly evening by the time the pair made their way to where the Isabella was docked and Namiah's shirt was wet with blood soaking through once again. Miriam stopped a deckhand loading up dry goods and asked to see the captain.

The man recognized her, and though he gave her a snarling sneer, went to fetch the captain anyway. The captain listened to their tale, after sending for the ship's surgeon. He nodded and turned to Miriam.

"What if I told you that I would only take you?"

"What?" The captain gestured at the ship.

"Staurnel is unaffiliated. Taking a Hallonel in as a refugee makes a decision for my house that I am not entirely empowered to make. You however… I banned you from my ship once before, but I may be willing to forgive past sins. Taking you aboard costs me nothing but my pride. Taking in a Hallonel would be impossible." Namiah swallowed nervously and looked at Miriam. She closed her eyes. Honestly, her first instinct was to abandon Namiah to his fate.

She only hauled him all this way so that he could save her in return with his family's resources. If the captain was willing to let her onboard, her need for him was minimal. Then again… what about when she arrived wherever it was she was going? Having a rich noble in her back pocket would put her in a much better position than she had been in on arriving in Marybel. She wasn't looking forward to trying to find work in another city where she didn't fit in.

"I am fine to travel alone," she said finally. He felt Namiah stiffen beside her.

"But rather than abandon the heir to a House which, while on the back foot currently, still has vast resources, it might be wiser for a neutral house to instead bring on another new crewmate that you happened to hire here in the port. How would you know if he was who he claimed to be or not? It's my understanding that many people undertake ocean voyages while hiding the truth of who they are." The captain smiled.

"They do indeed. You are correct, Miriam. We can't take on a Hallonel. But we can take pity on an injured dockworker just trying to get home." Miriam smiled at Namiah.

"What's impossible to a team like us anyway?" ✧✧✧ The first time Miriam had seen war, it had been as a horrified observer. Not that her history was lacking in dangerous conflict, but war was something else entirely. You could almost forgive those people who seemed to find the study of it so fascinating - it moved like a creature with a will of its own. A more careful examination of it might feel like a naturalist observing a rare beetle, as if trying to understand it could prevent the horror of what it was.

But you couldn't. Tactics, strategy and troops readiness - all were just clinical terms for trying to kill each other. This battle felt no different, except that she was a willing combatant. Miriam remembered chastising Róise for wanting the fight back at the mine entrance at the First Ring - her admonishments seemed hollow now as she fought for survival against the Séarlait Consortium. Most of the soldiers were Thirds.

She had still not developed an analysis technique - another thing to put on her list - but she was starting to get a handle on how people with different fórsa densities felt. These all reminded her of what Róise and Cormac had felt like when they had first met aboard the Líadan - solid in a way that the Second Ring Crocken they fought against didn't. That, and the fact that they were outnumbered 2: 1 put the defenders at a severe disadvantage.

Miriam's group had some heavy hitters - Cormac was a force no one knew how to deal with - she watched him take out that curse user with laughable ease. Eoin was recovering from his wound with the help of Róise's Róisín Dubh, and once he was back on his feet he would be able to tear through Thirds like tissue paper. Still, it wouldn't be enough. Róise was stuck guarding the Heart of Iron. Onóra had been hurt, but Miriam was under no delusion that she was finished, by any means.

Keavy was nearly a Fifth, Caolán had said, and Róise's brother actually was one. The only thing preventing this conflict from being a route was the Séarlait's inability to get into the grotto - many were still waiting in the tunnels outside. The defenders were trapped, with no other exit than the one the attackers were streaming in through. How could they get out of this while protecting the Heart from Caolán Séarlait? With a sinking feeling, Miriam knew the answer. They couldn't.

Ferris Einion was a unique force on the battlefield, but he wasn't immortal. A spear stabbed him through the upper leg, leaving him open to more strikes. His guard hurried him away to safety, but that broke the defender's line. Séarlait troops were pouring in. Miriam stood in front of the altar with Róise, her hands clenching empty air - what good could she do here? She considered building another Fetid Swamp, but that would infect the ally Crockern just as much as the enemies. Same with Waterfall.

She used Raging Current to apply some well-placed shoves which helped some individual fights, but it was far too little. Her Life Nature was stifled in these caves - her vines would attach to nothing and techniques like Rising Tree would not work on hard stone, unless she could access dirt beneath. Miriam felt a hand on her shoulder. Eoin.

"You can see it's hopeless too, can't you?" he asked gently, still holding the wound in his gut. She sighed.

"I don't see how we get through this."

"I can get you out of here," Eoin said bluntly.

"You and me. I don't have the power left for anyone else." She snorted.

"You expect me to run away with you and leave everyone to die?"

"Survival isn't cowardice," he said sharply.

"There is no way out here. Either all of us die, or some of us die. Suicide by solidarity is a poor epitaph, Miriam." Miriam wanted to disagree, but she had no easy rebuttal. It was easier to make the hard choice when you still had a chance to win. She stared intently at the fight, trying to summon some sort of idea by force of will. She had nothing. Eoin was right. It would be impossible for all her friends to escape, to prevent the Heart from falling into the wrong hands. Miriam shook her head with a smile.

"What's impossible to a team like us?" As she spoke, the Teilgcheárta forces surrendered.