Chapter Forty-Nine: Proof

Chapter Forty-Nine: Proof

As a flock of sparrows winged their way back, Tom broke the news to Val.

Her hand, already clamped to his shoulder with concern, clenched in a death grip. When hed finished explaining, they were both deadly pale.

There was nothing they could do for the captured humans in the camp, not surrounded as they were by tens of thousands of orcs. Even if they somehow managed to get to them, there was no way they could break out fifty-something starved and beaten folk and make it all the way back to Wayrest with them.

It was an impossibility. They would have to try and convince Wayrest to mount a rescue mission. From the sounds of it, leaving the captives with them any longer than they had to would only provide the orcs with more Idealists.

They began to work their way back to the river. Once again, they had to stop often to avoid orcs, hiding in trees and hollows, waiting nervously until they passed. Each delay chafed, every second it cost them a potential life lost, every minute more strength the orcs gathered.

By the time they reached the river, Tom was ready to run the rest of the way back, so anxious was he. Val was no better. Her face had been set in a grim mask ever since Sere had flown back from the camp.

Sere scouted the other side of the river, and together they crossed. After swapping back into dry clothes on the other side, and resummoning their familiars, Val stopped him.

Lets go, Tom said, irritated at the delay.

Take a moment, Val replied, frustration and patience making a battleground of her face.

Think for a second, Tom. We still need proof. What do you think will happen if we return to Wayrest with these stories? The same two who tried the same thing not even a year ago? Theyll laugh us straight back out the gates.

Tom knew she was right, and knew he was being impatient, letting his anxiety get the better of him. He tamped it down, forcing himself to think clearly.

Many of those patrols must cross here, he said, sounding out the logic. We should follow one. Ambush it.

Val gave him a savage grin. My thoughts exactly. Ill make a Hunter of you yet.

Pride welled in him. Val was never stingy with her praise, or with her criticisms, and yet that only made both feel more deserved when she gave them.

Ill send Sere to watch, he said, and they settled in a quiet spot, away from the crossing, where Sesame assured them there were no orc scents lingering, and waited.

As it turns out, they didnt have to wait long. An orc patrol arrived at the far bank within the hour, and set about untying one of the rafts there and poling across.

There were twelve of them, which seemed the standard size for their patrols, this one with eight males and four females. They reached the near bank, tied off the raft, and immediately took off into the forest heading south west.

Perfect, Tom thought to himself, and told Val what he had seen. Within minutes, they had worked out a rough plan.

They would follow the party through the Deep on their patrol until they turned around, and then they would strike. If some other choice opportunity presented itself, they would take it too. There were plenty of other monsters in the Deep besides the orcs, after all.

They followed at a remove of about an hour, with Sere splitting her bodies four ways: behind Tom and Val, ranging out to either side of them, on the orcs at all times, and ahead of the orcs trajectory, too. That way they could see if the patrol was about to run into any trouble, and catch up to them in time to take advantage of it.

The first day went without any interruptions. The orcs bickered and fought a little, but nothing to stir any particular interest. The next day, the patrol ran into a pair of wood golems. Sere hadnt spotted them, with their natural camouflage, and Val and Tom were too far behind to ambush them while they fought. As it happened, the orcs dispatched them so quickly that it probably wouldnt have made a difference if Sere had seen them. The sheer ferocity with which they fought quickly overwhelmed the slow, wooden creatures.

Good! Fight! Help!

Tom cast Agony at the orc to Sesas right, then charged in. It half turned to meet him, and was immediately punished by Sesame for its inattention. It slumped to the ground, its innards slithering out in steamy coils. Green light flashed, and the orc on his left slumped bonelessly too.

Val and Tom stepped to either side of Sesame. The remaining orcs had finished the sprite, and were now advancing on them cautiously. Three more of them had died, and the other four looked in a sorry state. Only one seemed more or less uninjured.

Tom cast Agony once more, stepping in front of Sesame and levelling his spear. Two orcs charged at him, heedless of their injuries. He slid forward, thrust, and skewered one directly through the heart. At the same time, he cast Wild Boar Strike on the other, impacting it just as it leapt at him, and sending it tumbling backwards through the air. He rushed forward and pinned it to the earth before it could recover. It died hissing hate at him.

He turned. Val had already finished off her pair of orcs, as he had expected. She was watching him, absently rubbing at her throat.

Thank you, Tom. That was damn close.

He shrugged, awkward, not knowing what to say. Thats okay, of course. Youd do the same.

Closest call Ive had in a damn long time, Ill tell you that. Who knew they could throw so well? Well have to watch out for that.

I didnt even see it had a knife until it was in the air, Tom said.

No helping it now. Im fine. Thank you, again, Tom. That was quick thinking.

She patted him gently on the arm.

Now, lets get done and get gone. Who knows what kind of attention that much noise has drawn.

Tom nodded. Ill send Sere to see if anythings been drawn in. The little birds dispersed in a circle, looking for anything that might be coming to investigate the aftermath of the fight.

Val looked around, searching, then wandered over to a pair of orcs. Grimacing, she took the knife from her belt and knelt next to one. She gestured with it to Tom, then to the other orc next to it.

These heads are the most intact. Lets have them off. She suited herself to her words, and began sawing at the corpses throat.

Tom gulped, his bile threatening to rise, but he got himself under control and began working on the other body. They had two orc heads in short order, and quickly stowed them in the enchanted sacks Scriber had given them, and from there put them in Toms storage.

They completed one final check of the scene. Tom stowed a couple of essences, and a few of the crude orc weapons in his storage for good measure. Suddenly, Sere began to pepper him with images.

It took Tom a second to make sense of them. A figure was approaching. A lone man, slipping through the trees, obviously taking great pains to move silently. He wore a black cloak, hooded, covering most of his body. Metal glinted in his hands in the low forest light.

Sere flitted in front of him, perpendicular, and got a glimpse of his face. Cold sluiced through Tom.

Val, he said, and something in his voice snapped her head around like a wolf hearing a rabbit scream. I think weve got a problem.

Honeyfields here. And I dont think he means to chat.New novel chapters are published on