That night, Varska was hungry and passionate. Viv had never thought that the risk of death would provoke such a powerful response in her otherwise bashful partner. She slept soundly, and woke up to another training session. Farren went to visit them in the field.
“The scouts found them. They will arrive tonight, or tomorrow morning if they want to arrive refreshed. Lorn is holding a council to decide on our strategy.”
“We’re coming.”
The meeting was taking place in the temple of Neriad, which happened to have a war room with a map of Kazar and its immediate surroundings.
“I must admit,” Corel said, “that you are better prepared than I am.”
“Yes, well, I thought I would be using it against the undead,” Lorn said. “Enough of this, we have little time. I think it best if the guards escort the refugees. I’m not sure they have the organization required to retreat in good order.”
“Indeed not. They are much better at creating a cordon,” Corel allowed with no anger, “but you should keep Tars and her squad of archers. They’re only decent, but you need all the help you can get.”
“Right. So, we get everyone out and under guard escort. Corel, can you lead the convoy?”
“Sure, I will. We’ll head to the last waypoint before the mountain and collect people, food, and water on the way. The granaries are already empty.”
“That works. In the meanwhile, we want to attract the Bridgers’ attention as soon as they exit the forest. Any idea?”
“I can use a basic artillery spell from the walls to force them to handle us. If I go after lunch, everything will be settled by tonight and I will still have some mana to work with,” Varska said.
“They will have to take you out or risk losing anything important. Can you really reach that far?”
“Yes, and kill a few soldiers. It will be terribly inefficient but, again, they cannot afford to ignore me. Not if their prince is around.”
“Assuming that they take the bait, they will try to head for the gate. Unless they can breach the walls?”
“Earth casters could do it if the walls were not enchanted. They are,” Varska said. “I can also tell if someone is trying to climb them. I will direct interception squads from the gate.”
“Good.”
Lorn turned to someone that Viv had seen a few times but didn’t know very well. He was a forester, looking at everyone from under thick brows and distinctly uncomfortable. Viv assumed he was the head of the scouts.
“Michar, can you hold the gate?”
“Until I can’t.”
“I’ll stay with you. Koro and Torm will take a few guards and run around. We have to focus our forces or we’ll never stop them long enough for it to matter. You will help us there, Varska?”
“We’ll be by the entrance with you. That is where we can be of the most use,” the mage answered, speaking for both of them.
Viv didn’t mind. She had literally zero experience fighting a medieval magical battle. She counted on the others to use their expertise and keep her alive, as she had expected her NCOs and command to keep her alive back on earth. There was little question of pride for her. She wanted to win and live to tell the tale, the rest was secondary.
“Fine,” Lorn answered, slowly. “The rest will be organized at squad level. Dismissed.”
The two casters moved back to the tower for lunch. Viv was worried about Arthur, but the squealing lady could fly around and find them if she was feeling too worried. Varska had them go to the second floor and prepared tea. They still had some food leftover for the occasion. Simple fare, like stuffed bread.
“Here,” Varska said, serving Viv a cup. The liquid was light purple and looked magical, “since we are going to lose the plants anyway, I made special tea. We should enjoy it. Have the first taste.”
Viv sipped the piping hot liquid. It was flowery with a full, pleasant touch that lingered on the tongue.
“Delicious,” Viv said, and took another sip. Varska was looking at her with a pleasant smile that Viv knew was fake. The smile cracked. A tear rolled down her scarred cheek.
“I am so sorry,” she said.
Viv wanted to ask what she was sorry about, but her mouth opened and would not move. The cup slipped from her fingers and spilled the hot content on her armor. She collapsed forward. Varska stood up and held her up with a gentle touch. Tea dripped from her chin.
“I am so sorry. I know that you want to stay and fight but… I cannot allow it.”
Viv was pushed back onto the couch. She was entirely paralyzed, except for her lungs and eyes. Her heart beat furiously against her ribs but there was nowhere to push all that energy. She tried to scream her anguish and her shock. Only a rattling sob escaped her throat.
“The truth is that we cannot risk you. We will have to skirt the edges of the deadlands. Not even an archmage could keep everyone alive over several days, at least not alone. But you can. You can keep killing revenants for two days straight. Only you can do that. Without you, not even half of those people will cross the mountains and find some shelter.”
Varska kneeled and brushed an errant strand of auburn hair away from Viv’s eyes. Viv wanted so much to fight it. Mana rose to answer her call but there were no spells she could use to free herself, and her poisoner still had the key to her heart.
“You would have stayed with me, whether I wanted it or not. You would have tried to save the wounded.”
No one gets left behind.
“Do not try to deny it.”
It did not MATTER!
“I know that I am doing a terrible thing. I know. I’m not asking for forgiveness. I simply can’t risk you.”
Not her fucking call. Not her fucking call at all. She was doing this again, the bullshit sacrificial lamb act. Viv was so fucking fed up with this utter stupidity. It was not. Her. Decision. To. Take.
“And I can’t risk the hundreds of civilians who would die. I made an oath and still have a shred of honor, after all. I… hope that we join after this is done and that you slap me. I am so sorry.”
Varska left and Viv seethed in silence, black mana snaking across her figure. Lorn entered the room. He winced.
“She looks mad. I hope you don’t come to regret this decision.”
“She has every right to be mad. Now go, we don’t have much time.”
Lorn picked Viv up in a princess carry and moved out and towards the field. Viv’s gaze was turned so that she could only see the white walls of Kazar’s house and a corner of the sky. It was blue. It was fucking blue.
“You know, if you kill me now and I face the golden god, I sure as fuck won’t know what to tell him.”
Viv blinked and retracted the black, sharp tendrils she saw rising in the air. Some of the tension left Lorn.
“What the fuck?” Marruk yelled, somewhere in the distance. They had reached the clearing.
Lorn put her down on her sled. There was a piece of something digging into her back. She saw a corner of Marruk’s outraged red skin and her dark hair, then Arthur jumped on Lorn and bit his armor before there could be an argument. The dragonling jumped on Viv’s chest and started hissing at anyone approaching. Viv could only see white scales, the ever-blue sky. Marruk and Lorn argued for a whole minute before Viv spotted Marruk’s face not far from hers.
“She’s going to be so pissed…”
Arthur swatted her away.
“Alright, alright!”
The sled started moving and did not stop. It smelled of earth, of sun on the grass.
//Unexpected.
Sometimes, there was a hint of cornadon dung. Birds sang in the distance. They didn’t stop. Arthur was coiled around her and kept her warm. Marruk came and managed to make her drink water. She also moved her a bit, for comfort.
Anger faded. It was replaced by stress and anguish.
Night came. Viv managed to reach a sort of balance. Varska would return to her, and she would chew her out and most likely dump her for betraying her trust like that. Hope and terror struck a balance. Viv stared at the moon as it appeared above her. Viv fell asleep.
In the morning, she could move a bit but was still incapable of walking. She looked around and saw that she was at the tail of a convoy hundreds of meters long. Kazar had an abundance of carriages due to all the traffic it saw, but she had no idea that they had so many. Lots of them were drawn by sturdy farmers instead of horses. There were a lot of beasts as well. Roaming bands of kids plundered the edge of the forest for fruits and nuts, unaware of the tragedy.
There was smoke in the distance, back where they had come from. The pillar was undisturbed by winds and could be seen from very far. Kazar had disappeared around a bend in the road. It was already tens of kilometers away.
In the early morning, wounded started trailing in, then the majority of the scouts and some guards with bandaged limbs and empty quivers. The Temple Guards were next, minus five. The halberd-wielding man was not with them, and neither was Varska. Lorn explained it to her with red, tired eyes. She had been covering their retreat. The archers had picked her off.
They got her in the chest, several times.
She was dead.
Viv closed her eyes and screamed, and Arthur attacked Lorn again.
Viv had regained full function by the afternoon. She rode on horseback between Marruk and Koro, Lorn having wisely decided to stay hidden. They picked off small packs of revenants before they could make a nuisance of themselves. The guards were able to push individuals back by themselves but they could not afford a buildup.
She did not say a thing the whole day, except to Arthur who was sticking to her and hissing at people getting too close. Even Marruk had been too ashamed to speak.
If it were not for the scaled one, Viv would have felt more alone than ever in her life. Suddenly, the Kazarians were alien beings, with their slight green skin tone. They had lost their familiarity, their status as fellow citizens. Viv felt disgusted by their noise and smells. Only the slow pulse of potent black mana in her being still attached her to Nyil, her strange new world. More than disgust, she felt a deep-seated, slow-burning rage aimed at everyone and everything. She hated Solfis and Marruk for failing her. She hated Kazar for losing and Enoria for winning. She hated Varska for dying and leaving her behind. The devouring, all-encompassing ember turned her heart into a husk.
In the evening, the convoy stopped and Viv was asked to join the command tent which was being pitched in a hurry.
“I thought we were not meant to stop,” she grumbled.
They had not the night before. Tired villagers had slept at the top of carriages for a few hours before swapping with others. They had to create some distance.
Viv dismounted under the faraway gaze of guards milling about. In the command tent, she found most important people minus the mayor who was still catatonic. And Varska who was dead. The person who had stopped the convoy was called Brenna, and she worked for the temple as an administrator. Among other things, she was in charge of the healers.
“We need to stop for four hours at least. It will attract a large amount of undead, so we need a way to distract them. Fortunately, I have an enchanted orb that can simulate a high level of vitality for a few hours.”
“How come you have such a thing?” Corel asked with suspicion.
“It was designed by the main temple in Mornyr. By deploying the orb, one can shift an entire army of revenants and allow a strike team to reach a necromancer relatively unharmed. I’d say that the current situation justifies the expense. In any case, I need someone who can deploy the artefact and thin the horde, then return safely.”
She looked at Viv. Viv knew she was going to do it, and it pissed her off. They had no right to presume. They were nobodies.
“Why do we need to stop?” she asked, belligerent.
“We have twelve women who went into labor at the same time because of the stress. It was all we could do to belay the births, but now we need to proceed with the deliveries. Four hours is the bare minimum to do so safely, and the rest of the… the refugees… they could use the sleep anyway.”
“Can’t you put the women on top of carriages or something?” Viv demanded.
Brenna took a deep, tired breath. She was exhausted too, Viv noticed offhandedly. Not that she gave a shit.
“Lady Bob, I know that you are hurting right now, but I really need you not to be a cunt.”
When Viv stopped, she was fifteen centimeters away from the other woman. She could count every eyelash, every vein in her bloodshot eyes. A black, jagged tendril writhed and severed a few grey hairs. They fell down in silence. There were other tendrils dancing around the woman.
Koro was standing next to them, her face tortured with worry.
“Please…” the amazon said.
Viv returned her attention to the deathly pale nurse and delicately picked the orb from trembling hands. She felt its weight in her palm. It was a powerful item, yet the trigger mechanism was simple enough that a child could have used it.
“Don’t push me ever again,” she whispered, and found that she meant it. Brenna had been… a cordial work acquaintance. Before. Now, she was no one. And she had gone too far.
Intimidation: Intermediate 3