Chapter 25: Tale 3, Ch 4: The Sonof Camp

“Why did you let him come?” the woman with two swords whispered into the Sonof leader’s ear. They thought Cory couldn’t hear, but he had acquired a skill for eavesdropping as a child. It came in handy then and now.

“I have no reason to stop him. He is a traveler kind,” the leader said calmly.

“He could break the woman free.”

“If he was willing to break our laws in such a way, he’d have battled with us before she was captured.”

The woman sniffed. They walked a few steps in silence. “I’ll be watching him,” she said, and sped up, talking casually with the other Sonofs at the front.

Cory pretended he hadn’t heard, and walked with his eyes on the rising hill, the sun nearly gone behind him.

“Forgive Mish, Prophet. She is mistrusting these days,” the leader said.

“I wouldn’t trust me either if I was her,” Cory replied with a shrug. He wasn’t nearly as calm as he was pretending to be. Hearing them talk about the captive Tane reminded him that it was his fault. And the muffled cries of pain from the captured soldier on the stretcher, along with the many other stretchers occupied by bleeding Sonofs, reminded him of the death he’d caused.

“Forgive me as well. I am Meln Sonoforn. I am the Baron in the lands following the river to the Face of Mia Hill.”

“Is that a long way?” Cory asked.

“Not really,” Meln said. “But there are many people to look after.”

The United soldier, whom Cory now recognized as Grick, let out a sudden cry of pain as he tried to struggle against a new bandage. He groaned as the Sonofs forced the wrappings on him. The mass continued onward, though. The slings held together firewood Sonofs collected. And Cory noticed that the tower shields acted as the structure for backpacks that were now filled with clothing and gear. Nothing seemed at all flashy about anything the Sonofs di,d yet it felt natural and elegant at the same time.

“Do you have doctors?” Cory asked, staring back at the now blocked image of the bleeding soldier.

“We have medical care. That is why we will be stopping soon. It is dark and we need to find flat ground to rest.”

Cory nodded, and wished for the first time that he’d been a Gold.

“You seem deep in thought,” Meln said. “I’ll talk with Mish for the rest of the short walk and leave you with your thoughts.”

“Thanks,” Cory said.

Meln walked ahead and joined in Mish’s conversation as Cory briefly saw Jesson being carried a little ways over. There were too many people around, so he couldn’t see very clearly. The brief flash of Jesson’s face made him realize that the captain despised every second of his capture.

Cory walked over to him. He didn’t know why, but he felt he had to say something. “Hi,” Cory said as he pushed through the crowd as kindly as possible. “How you feeling?” Of all the stupid things Cory could say, he realized he’d just said one of the top five.

Jesson didn’t respond. He simply stared up at the sky.

Cory inspected the bandages on Jesson’s arm and side and said, “You don’t look too bad. I saw you get hit and it didn’t look too deep.”

At that, Jesson turned his head, slowly acknowledging Cory’s presence. “You saw,” he said, and turned his head skyward again.

Cory felt he’d been stabbed too. “I’m sorry, Jesson, I… after you killed that man before.”

“Jessie Sonoforn,” Jesson said to the air.

“Yeah,” Cory said, and found it odd the captain had remembered the name. “I just couldn’t let any more deaths, you know, be caused by me.”

Jesson turned to Cory with sudden fury. “What about Jacob, and Seth, and Iranich? What about their deaths?”

Hearing the United soldiers’ names made it worse. Cory never knew those men. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You could have stopped their deaths,” Jesson said, and looked back to the blackening sky.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

“Save the lives of a couple dozen by killing hundreds?” Cory asked.

“How practical, you pick numbers. You Prophets may have power, but you’re not gods. You can’t simply pick and choose who lives and dies.”

“He needs rest. You should stop making him angry,” one of the female Sonofs holding the stretcher advised. The other Sonofs had listened to the conversation with quiet neutrality.

“I didn’t start that battle, Jesson,” Cory said, and sighed. “I’m sorry.” He turned and walked back to the crowd.

“Maybe not, but you killed me nonetheless!” Jesson shouted to Cory’s back.

Cory fingered the faded bronze pommel of his dagger, trying to find the consolation its cool touch always gave him. They walked on for a few minutes, and Cory always had plenty of space around him.

As the sky grew dark, he heard Meln shout, “Sonofs stop! We make camp here. Gather what can be gathered and hunt what can be hunted.”

They had stopped near a sparse collection of trees, a jumble not ten trunks thick. The trees had very small leaves and the thin branches only started near the top, creating a sort of flattened umbrella. There were a few even smaller trees and bushes scattered here and there away from the camp as well. Meln didn’t have to order the people to start putting up the tents.

Packs began opening, disassembled tower shields now acting as supports for tents, and the Sonofs pulled out and attached long strips of canvas and some of the same dark cloth they wore. Many tents were put up in the space of a minute. Cory, now standing in a sea of hard working men and women, walked over to a man who was pulling a tent out of a pack on his own.

Because he had nothing better to do, Cory helped the man unfold the canvas. The man said nothing, but nodded thanks. They set down the canvas and inserted the thin wooden poles. The man handed Cory half of the poles and showed him how they unhinged, inserting them into the flaps to show where they went. Cory followed this, and soon had it ready.

The man gathered some stakes, the parts of the tower shield serving every purpose for the tent save the canvas itself, and while Cory finished up with the poles he hammered in a few stakes. Then he handed the stakes and hammer to Cory. Cory took them with a smile and the man grinned back. Cory finished staking the tent down and they raised the tent with a satisfying swoosh, placing the last poles in position to hold it in place.

“Thank you,” the man said with a smile.

“Oh, I wasn’t doing anything else,” Cory said, and smiled awkwardly.

“Yes, I am thankful for the help with the tent. But I also am thankful for your part in the battle.”

“What? But I didn’t take any, um, part. Did I?” Cory asked, and walked over to the man.

“You did not fight. We’d heard there was a Red Prophet among the small band, and were afraid. But you didn’t kill us. Thank you. I shall get us some supper.” With a nod, the man walked toward the few fires starting up.

Cory stood in silence, and looked at the tent.

“Lael doesn’t easily forgive. But it seems he doesn’t blame you,” Mish said as she walked between one of the tents next to Cory’s, stepping over the stake Cory had placed in crookedly. “Not for his wife’s death, at least.”

Cory understood. Lael’s wife was killed in the battle. The man had been so welcome to Cory, despite his not helping. “Won’t he miss her?” he asked dumbly.

“Of course he’ll miss her. But he accepts what has happened, and, apparently, doesn’t blame you for not stopping the battle.”

Cory felt pained. His hands froze, wishing he’d been able to attack Tane and stop the fighting before it started. But he knew he’d never be able to attack the woman he admired.

Mish stared at Cory as she straightened the crooked stake. “The river flows, despite the rocks, and forgets all past shores, live on. I guess if Lael can forgive and live on, I can,” she said.

Tane’s eyes popped open. She sat up and turned her head back and forth with sudden, birdlike twitches.

She was in a small, dark tent lined with multi-colored cloths and a thick carpet. Her cot was comfortable, if small, and she felt an aching pain pierce her head. She inspected herself and found a thick, freshly changed bandage on her scalp.

“Fool,” she said to the air as she remembered what had happened. She jumped out of the bed and raised her left hand and focused. But no glowing light appeared. There was no sudden flash, and she was not in the Guild Hall. She stared wide-eyed at the faded tent walls, fluttering in the sudden wind, and focused again. Again, nothing happened.

She looked at her wrist. Where her bracer had been, she saw only a faded patch of skin. She pulled her arm down and rubbed it as if it itched. Then she turned and walked boldly out the low tent flap.

Crossed spears met her immediately, barring her way. “How dare you!” she said in an icy tone, glaring at the two women blocking her in turn. “Do you know who I am?”

“Tane! I was worried you weren’t ever going to wake up,” Cory said, rising from a low box and walking over to her. Another woman had been sitting next to Cory, a piece of parchment and a charcoal stick between them, and she stood up as well. “We don’t exactly have a Gold, but their physicians are better than nothing.” Cory tried to laugh sympathetically. It came out pathetically, so he stopped.

“Where’s my bracer?” Tane asked, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Locked away,” Mish said. When Tane raised her eyebrows at the woman, she responded with, “Till you’re good.”

Tane ignored this slight and turned to Cory. “Cory, it seems that we will have to be with these people for awhile. If I am to be a prisoner, I shall do it with dignity. Fetch me some supper. It looks not quite too late and I’d like to have a word with the leader here before retiring.”

The moon crept freshly and dreamily over the hills, giving the beautiful landscape a dim glow. The air was cool, but Tane, allowed to stay in her white cotton outfit, didn’t shiver.

“This is Mish. If you want anything, you’ll have to talk to her. They won’t listen to me,” Cory said with a genuine smile.

Tane wondered if Cory had been hit in the head harder than she.

“Sister born new, I do now love, yet love can give to pain, aid her?” Mish said. She stood waiting for a response, and Tane stood waiting for Mish to respond to her need for a meal.

Tane gave in out of impatience. “Cory, time is of the essence and I need a good meal to do this night’s work,” she said.

“I don’t like your tone,” Mish said.