Book 2: Chapter 28: A Bitter Harvest

Book 2: Chapter 28: A Bitter Harvest

Born from the torrential rains of the Grieving Lands, the Green Road is a river that runs through the Whispering Wastes. As straight as an arrow flight the water cuts through the desert with nary a bend, guiding the way to the city of Dust. Along its banks, for a period of two moons, the sands bloom in a celebration of life. It is only during this time that large caravans can safely traverse the Whispering Wastes for the Worms of the desert fear only running water.

- The Fanciful Travels of Beron de Laney 376 AC.

Everything seemed to be slowly falling into place, and we were well on our way again. After thoroughly pillaging the bodies of our fallen enemies, we left them for the crows and scavengers of the plains. Although exhausted, the caravan had journeyed through the night, more wary of pursuit than of a broken axle. After checking on Kidu and Larynda, who were both asleep, I fulfilled my promise to Laes.

Khalam shadowed me as I drank a few precious blue Mana potions provided by Laes, and laid my hands on Catalina. The girl was a young mother with mousy hair and a pretty face, but in a homely way. A small boy, perhaps seven or eight years old, was by her pallet, clutching her hand. I found the rise and fall of her chest and her moans of pain a little distracting. My eyes drifted over the lines and contours of her body, clearly seen through sheets dampened with sweat. Guiltily, I noticed her shivering from shock and that her eyes were dilated, her face an ashen hue. Annoyed with my traitorous body, I summoned the energies to heal the wound that had made a mess of her innards. As color returned to her face, I imagined I saw a smile as she slipped into the blessed realm of sleep.

Ubaid was a completely different matter. The olive-skinned boy was very much awake and in pain. With the remains of his arm a mangled mess, he was screaming in agony. Crushed by a heavy mace, his fellows said. Luckily they had not yet amputated the limb, and my Heal spell was able to restore his arm. The boy’s future was now restored, and he was reduced to a sobbing wreck, tears of relief and joy trailing down his face. Some of his fellow guards also joined him in the cathartic weeping. I must admit to a certain sense of satisfaction at being able to help my fellow man without the need to hide my powers. However, I was put off by the sight of grown men weeping womanly tears.

During a lull in the night journey, I grew desperate to do more. Holding a small chunk of Zajasite close to my chest, I stole aboard the wagon carrying Abdul's corpse. Upon examining his body, I saw that the likely cause of death was a clean slice across the windpipe. Despite this, I still hoped that I could save him. With that in mind, I cast Greater Heal, channeling divine golden energy into him. For a moment, there was a glimmer of hope as the severe wound closed, but his heart remained still. The last glimmers of life had long left him, and Death had extinguished yet another mortal spark. Alone with the corpse, I found myself weeping, more out of frustration than true sorrow. Even magic had its limits, and there were some things that could not be overcome.

*

At dawn, a small ceremony was held. Three bodies were laid on a pyre made of dry grass and fragrant wood. It seemed that Khalam's casualty report had been wrong, the incompetent fool. The gathered crowd was somber, their eyes downcast, and only the occasional sob or wail broke the solemn silence. The people of the Raven saw my face, the haunting look in it, and must have taken the expression as a shared grief. They bowed to me, whispering ‘Honored One,’ and kept a respectful distance. Without my powers, and Larynda’s magical assistance, the butcher’s bill would have been much higher.

Cordelia had also been busy during the night. True to his promise, Laes had returned her equipment, and as a token of gratitude, she had gone around healing some of the minor injuries in the camp. Some people had spat at her and even struck her, but none could deny the small miracles she performed. Cordelia wore the bruises and small cuts on her noble features like a badge of honor. Within a few hours, she had gained some respect, if not acceptance. The fact that she was now part of my entourage must have contributed significantly to her newfound status.

As Laes set a torch to the dry grass, a blaze consumed the pyres. The smell of incense filled the air and masked the smell of cooking flesh. Prayers were said to various gods and the ceremony drew to a close. Food was served, and the caravan began to make ready for another day’s journey.

Laes approached me once I had finished with breakfast, a worried look on his face as he asked me to come to his wagon. Tired as I was, his tone raised the hairs on the back of my neck and I followed him quickly.

Opening the door, I was greeted by the sight of Khalam and a pair of guards standing over the form of the ever-insouciant Elwin Tucker. A conflict of emotions warred within me as I struggled to maintain control. I had thought the Rogue dead in the forest of crystal spears.

“This cur says he knows you, Honored One. We found him in one of the rear wagons” explained Khalam, his words dripping with disdain.

“Gil,” greeted Elwin. He gestured to me with his left arm, and I was shocked to discover that his left hand was missing. “Don’t suppose you could lend a friend a hand?”

Taking a deep breath, I found a measure of calm, “What happened to you... your hand? I thought you were going back to find your family?” I asked, feigning false politeness.

“Well, about that. Just as I was gathering up some funds to find a caravan going the other way, I found a bunch of religious folks, all looking for you and Kidu. Something about a Herald or some such. I thought to inquire more, to warn you of course, but one of them got right enthusiastic when I let something slip. Sorry about that,” he paused for a moment, and the smile faded from his face before he continued, “And that’s when I had to pay the Thief’s Tax, courtesy of Her loving Church. I’m sorry Gil, but they... they... Inquisitors... did things,” he sobbed, his facade of confidence finally crumbling.

“And what were you doing with the group that attacked...” I began before I was rudely cut off.

“I say we leave this dastard to the crows. By his own words, he betrayed you. He is, as you outlanders say, a dangerous loose end,” spat Khalam, and for some reason, I found his words grating. There was no justice to his words.

Out of contrary spite, and from a place of newfound forgiveness, I decided to challenge his words, “Elwin is a friend, and as you can see, he did not willingly give me up. Even the strongest of men can break under torture. I consider it a blessing that my companion yet lives,” my voice stern with resolution.

“A man is judged by the company he keeps...” returned Khalam, probably thinking himself wise and smart.

“Yes, followed by a peerless warrior giant and an arcane prodigy that puts your best men to shame...” I retorted, with no small pride, before Laes decided to intervene.

“Peace! The pair of you! This Elwin person was clearly not a willing member of the people that attacked us. That he is the Honored Gilgamesh’s friend speaks to his favor. I will not allow the Ravens to execute a free man, no matter how suspect. If we keep fighting among ourselves, we will never make it to the Rump, let alone cross the Wastes,” half-shouted Laes, as would an exasperated father to his squabbling children.

Another display of power was necessary, I felt, to prove the value of my magic to the caravan. Quaffing yet another precious Mana potion, the once sweet-tasting elixir now bitter to the palette, I knew then that I was approaching what Hamsa had described as the limit to the number of potions I could imbibe. My Mana rose to eleven points. Enough for what I had to do.

I went through the motions of summoning the holy power of the spell Greater Heal, causing Khalam and the two guards to reach for their arms. Laes barked out a quick command, stopping them from further foolishness. Correcting the cruel error of Avaria’s misguided followers felt right. Felt righteous, and my soul sang in acceptance.The origin of this chapter's debut can be traced to N0v3l--B1n.

The interior of the wagon was bathed in the light of a false dawn and the echo of an ancient song of praise filled the air. A gold aura shrouded the stump of his wrist. Bone grew out, a skeletal frame for what followed. Then came flesh born from the holy light, wrapping around the bone, only in turn to be wrapped by new skin. When the light finally died down, I saw that the spell had regenerated Elwin’s missing hand completely.

Axes (lvl.1)

Daggers (lvl.4)

Throwing Weapons (lvl.2)

Double Throw (lvl.1) 5

Herbalism (lvl.2)

Shield Bash (lvl.1)

Riding (lvl.1)

Dash (lvl.1)

SPELLS & MAGIC

Heal (lvl.5) 5

Rust (lvl.3) 2

Identify (lvl.3) 1

Silent Casting (lvl.2)

Mana Regeneration (lvl.2)

Purify (lvl.2) 3

Holy Aura (lvl.2) 2

Decay (lvl.1) 1

Drain (lvl.4) 2

Entropic Aura (lvl.2) 2

GIFTS

Curse of Entropy -20% to all starting attributes

Mark of the Paladin 10% resistance to Dark/Holy Magic. 5% resistance to Physical.

Touch of the Void 10 reduced resistance to Holy/Fire Magic, 20% resistance to Mental Effects, 15% immunity to Mental Effects.

Experience to next level 3137/3202

Health249/288 Stamina23/63 Mana1/16