Fault and Trust
I could still feel the cold breath on my face as I pulled the dagger from my opponent, taking a step back as he fell forward. The Blackstone soldiers had proven to be terrifying foes, and our retreat had come none too soon. That hadn't stopped a dedicated portion from giving chase, however, even as the weather turned violent. Another warrior stepped up to replace his fallen comrade, and I raised my arming sword to intercept his spear. A sickening grinding noise filled my ears as I lifted my hand, covering the blade over my head as I thrust forward, taking a small step into my attack to force my weight into my opponent. The warrior was quick however, and jerked to the side while pulling away his spear. I quickly rebalanced myself, working the dagger as I crouched down, watching him grimace and adjust the grip on his weapon.
For a moment neither of us moved, before each of us began to circle around one another, studying each other carefully for the smallest of openings. I knew I would need to react after his strike, the reach of his weapon was much superior to mine, and judging from the steel ball at the foot of his weapon, I was sure a whiffed attack could easily turn deadly. My opponent grew restless, and let loose a frustrated roar of anger as he stepped forward and thrust forward. That thrust never found purchase, for the Conqueror Stone suddenly appeared from behind one of the trees, bashing the man in the side and sending him crashing into the snow.
I knew an opportunity when I saw one, and thrust my blade forward, catching the younger soul in the eye. He let out the beginnings of a yell, but was silenced quickly when I lunged forward, plunging my dagger into his throat. His eyes went lifeless in a but moment, and silence descended over the fields of war, if only for a time.
"Thank you, Conqueror. I appreciate your aid." I said, turning to face my ally. The Conqueror's shoulders rose and fell in tandem with heavy breaths as he yanked his weapon's handle. Without much effort he caught it's chain and held the weapon at his side, allowing the head to dangle. Stone rose his eyes to mine, nodding as he rose his shield arm and attempted to block out the winds.
"Yeah, you're welcome Berrat. Where the heck are we going?" He asked. Holding up my own hand I looked to inspect our surroundings, trying to find any landmarks. There were no more combatants, I could tell that from what little I could see, but even this was a strain to decipher. Most of my sight was consumed by the dense fog brought on by the winter storm, but I could still see faint outlines even in the distance, or perhaps I was simply so familiar with this land I could picture it even in the face of a whiteout. Even so, picking out a direction here was near impossible by sight alone.
Sheathing my arming sword, I reached down into one of my side pouches and fumbled with its contents until I felt a soft wood frame, and pulled it free. Observing it, I saw a small wooden box, sat inside which was a small needle over a paper inlay, the cardinal directions marked on each of the edges by small lines and barely discernible letters. A compass given to me by my father, which I only hoped would lead us to safety. After sheathing my dagger, I held my hand over the compass, watching as the needle pointed toward the east. Turning to my left, I carefully shielded the compass as the needle shifted, shakily moving in tandem with my movements. Before long, it fell to the northeast, wobbling slightly before falling still as I held my position.
"There's a shelter in this direction! Hold onto my back, and keep close, Conqueror Stone!" I called. I waited a moment for him to comply, and was met with a firm, meaty grip on the back of my cloak, pulling slightly against my neck for a brief moment. Slowly, I moved forward, pushing against the fearsome winds as the needle continued to wobble slightly, but did not shift from its northeast heading. The Conqueror was quick to follow me, keeping pace so as not to choke me with my own cloak. The harsh torrents blasted from seemingly every side, making balance near impossible. Worsening matters was that even amidst the howling gale, the yells of Blackstone men and clattering of Blackstone weapons was all too audible. Distant, but audible.
Many minutes passed as we trudged through the snow, periodically halting to avoid suspicion from our opponents. Every so often, the chatter would grow louder, and I'd remove my hand from the compass to order Stone to halt. A minute of two would pass, and the chatter would die down. My heavy hood did much to keep my eyesight clear, but even they could not save my eyes from being stung, or watering from either the melting snow or my own sweat.
I'm not entirely sure when it happened, but eventually the voices had all but vanished, and for a moment I pondered why. Setting up an ambush, maybe? No, that was doubtful. Blackstone was quite unfamiliar with these lands, and had already been blindly stumbling even before the storm had intensified. More likely, they had sought shelter of their own, and were waiting for the storm to pass. A wise choice, and one that would give our forces a chance to catch their breath. Slowly, the outline of a large, jagged edge came into my view, jutting high into the air and easily as tall as three men, if not more. Promising, but not a guarantee of one of our safe houses. I fought against the weather a bit more for a closer look, and saw a large boulder rolled to one side of the cliff's edge.
"Hold here for a minute, Conqueror! I must check something!" I said, making my way towards the boulder.
"Just hurry up with it! We're not gonna last out here!" He yelled back before releasing my cloak. I lurched forward from the sudden loss of weight, but was able to right myself quickly enough. A few slow and laborious steps later and I was in front of the boulder. Most of it was covered in snow by now, with sparkling crystals of ice forming at its base. Inconspicuous to most, but if it was what I thought, then it was our salvation. Carefully kneeling down, I delicately brushed away a small patch of gathering powder, and came to see a small engraving. The engraving was in the shape of an outstretched wing, and had the number seven carefully etched underneath. This was the place alright.
To my right looked to be nothing but sheer cliff face, a convoluted mass of dirt, stone, and roots. I knew better, of course. Turning to the Conqueror, I waved him over as I made my way towards the wall of dirt, turning back only once he lifted his foot and made the first of many steps. As he did, I ran my fingers along the cliff, pushing gently against it while walking slowly forward. It took a second or two, but before long I felt the resistance of the cliff side give, and saw what looked to be a root push inward, nary a hint of resistance. Turning towards it, I knelt back down and felt around the base of the cliff side, eventually feeling a rough tarp like texture meet my fingers.
With a grunt of effort, I lifted the tarp onto my back, then stood to reveal a roughly eight foot wide and eight foot tall tunnel, winding down into a mostly dark interior, save for a dim light radiating from its depths. It seemed we weren't the first to arrive here. With any luck, other members of our company had found their way to safety, and were bunkering down here.
"What the heck is this?" I heard the Conqueror ask as he tenderly stepped through the opening, turning to observe each of the tunnel's walls. His hand went towards his weapon, as though afraid an ambush would come any minute. I suppose I couldn't blame him for his caution, it wasn't every day you were led to a hidden hideaway. This didn't stop me from chuckling a bit at his expense, of course. He seemed to take note of this, and turned his attention toward me as I dropped the tarp behind me.
"A hideaway, my friend. We rangers often need places of refuge while in the wild. These caves serve as our homes away from home." I explained. This was only part of the truth, naturally. When Herongale was first founded, our ancestors created safe places to hide, should slavers or mercenaries try to find them for coin. Over time, as Herongale became more legitimate, the need for such hiding places became unnecessary, and the general populace forgot about them. We rangers, however, never forgot such useful hiding spots. Infeasible as they were for long term dwelling, they served well for temporary reprieves. The Conqueror seemed uncertain of the place, and looked towards the end of the path, at the source of dim light.
"Well it doesn't look like we're alone here." He said gravely, allowing his weapon to fall as he swayed the chain back and forth. In the cramped corridors, the rattling echoed as though it were ten men approaching, rather than just the two of us. Not good, I thought, as I rushed forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. The Conqueror whipped around quickly, a fierce determination written in his eyes, just barely visible through the gaps in his helmet.
"Lower your weapon, friend. Only we rangers know of these hideouts' locations. You are safe here, you have my word." I tried to tell him. Despite my assurances, he seemed uneasy still, narrowing his eyes as he turned back towards the light. Did he not trust me? For a moment I couldn't imagine why, I had been nothing but truthful and cooperative with both him and his lord, had I not earned a modicum of good will? Or perhaps he was still too cautious of Blackstone, worried they'd somehow found us? I suppose that made sense, they had been tracking him and his lord for some time now. A healthy level of care was certainly warranted given what he'd been through, and nothing to be surprised about.
"Let me prove it to you, I'll go in first, and you follow me." I offered, carefully taking my hand from his shoulder. The Conqueror gave me an unconvinced glance, but seemed to at least consider my offer. After a tense silence, he jerked his arm up, and caught the chain of his weapon, holding it in place as he took a step to the right. He'd upheld his end of the deal, now it was my turn. After a quick nod, I took a few tentative steps forward, taking note of the slight dampness that layered the cave floor. Whether it was natural condensation from the cave itself, or melted snow from my comrades, I could not be sure.
Each step seemed to bounce off the dirt walls in a soft, but resonating echo that nearly made me flinch with every move. Behind me I could hear the much louder steps of the Conqueror, though I did not look behind me to see his movements. I suspected even now he was attempting to approach quietly, a task rendered impossible by his armor. His efforts, whatever they were, ended up in vain as the distant sounds of chatter came to my attention. Though I could not make out the words, I recognized the hushed tones, attempting to be as quiet as possible. I suspected that Blackstone would have no need of such secrecy, and would rather send their warriors charging forward. Despite my suspicions, I decided to call out to the voices.
"A silver bird enters the fabled wood!" I called, allowing my voice to carry through the tight corridors. Before I could hear the response, I felt a weight press on my shoulder and pull, forcing me to turn away my attention. The Conqueror stood there, shield raised, a confused and perturbed look in his eyes.
"What are you doing?! Don't call their attention!" He half whispered, half growled at me. Again, I could understand his worry, but knew that it was unwarranted in this case.
"Patience, my boy." I replied, turning back to the path. For a time, there was silence, broken only by the faint crackling of wood, a campfire, perhaps? Soon however, a voice rang through the silence, one that I was all too familiar with.
"And finds his shelter in the wood below." It said, its volume betraying its close proximity. Not another moment passed before Kharion stepped out from the curve just beyond where the cave winded down. Not far behind him were two militiamen, spears held shakily in their hands as they peeked over hastily crafted shields of thick and sturdy branches. Kharion carried a smile on his face as he approached me, loosening his bow and placing his arrow back into the quiver slung along his waist. Upon turning his head slightly, however, he lost his smile, replaced by a thinly veiled grimace in the Conqueror's direction.
"I see you and your companion have managed to find safety, despite everything." He said. I struggled to discern whether he sounded more relieved, or disappointed in that statement. My own mood darkened at this realization, my frustration mounting. Was he still so distrustful of our allies, even after they'd stood by our side? I would be sure to make my own frustration known to him later…
"Indeed we have, Elder. Conqueror Stone proved quite instrumental in my survival." I said, placing emphasis on the latter half of my sentence. Kharion's refusal to cooperate with our allies had already cost us greatly, perhaps if he realized I had been aided specifically, he'd get the idea through his bull headed brain that we needed them. Alas, he merely grunted and turned away, using a quick motion to order the militiamen.
"Prepare two more places for Captain Berrat and the Conqueror. Alert the two cavalrymen that one of their commanders will be joining them." He ordered. The militiamen, one man and one woman, I realized, simply glanced at one another before turning and making their way back down the path. The Conqueror took a step forward, his stance shifting as he did so.
"Cavalrymen? There is Iron Legion here?" He asked. From both his relaxed posture and raised pitch of voice, I could see a calm wash over him, a relief I doubt he'd expected at this point. The man sounded like he'd just received the best news of his life, and for the moment perhaps that was true. I myself might have been moved by his giddiness, had I not noticed Kharion's distinct lack of response to his shift in tone.
"That there is. Go on ahead, I'm sure they're waiting for you." He said. Again I picked up on the disappointment in his voice, but this time whatever relief had been present was long gone. He hadn't even turned to acknowledge him, he'd kept his back to him even as he answered the Conqueror's question. I furrowed my eyes and crossed my arms as the Conqueror gave me a brief sideways glance, then chuckled to himself before bounding off in a jog towards the camp.
Kharion hardly reacted to his passing, but even as Stone passed him by with his back still turned towards me, I could feel the intense glare my elder was giving. Just what was Kharion's problem, I wondered? He'd gone out of his way to exclude the knights from our planning due to them being "outsiders", and now he seemed outraged at their mere survival! These men were risking their lives for us and our people, why was he treating them like unwanted miscreants? My damage control over his recklessness could only go so far, and I feared that I was witnessing the first iteration of his foolishness.
Kharion waited until the Conqueror had vanished from sight before shaking his head, a motion I'm sure he had been holding in. Now he was disrespecting them? Warriors who had been bleeding with us and thrown away their own well being? Was he even aware that the Warden had drawn the worst of their forces away from us? Would he even care if he did? I could feel my fists clench as I grew tense, and my patience wore thin. Patience, I told myself. I simply had to reason with him, get him to understand things. Just as his father before me had.
"Elder, may I have a word with you?" I asked, keeping my voice as collected as I could manage. If Kharion was truly as bitter as he seemed, any discourse could send him into a rage, which was the last thing anyone needed. Kharion turned towards me and observed me for a moment, studying me. I hid my frustrations as best I could, wearing a neutral expression on my face as I gave him a stern look. Kharion's face was a mix of indifference and annoyance, a barely contained rage boiling just underneath his features. For a moment I wondered if I mirrored his expression, but quickly cast such a notion aside when he began making his way towards me.
I took a quick look behind him, confirming that there was no one besides him lingering where they shouldn't. Thankfully, I saw nothing, and could hear only the distant fire I was sure he had set up some time ago. Taking a deep breath, I brought my focus back to my companion, who crossed his own arms as he came to a halt in front of me. Without changing his stance, he gave me a slow nod, sighing as he fell into a comfortable stance. I lifted my head a bit to look down upon him, as if scolding him.
"Might I remind you these knights are our allies? I'd recommend just a touch more grace when interacting with them." I advised. Kharion's face scrunched together in a mix of disappointment and frustration, but recovered quickly enough as he took a deep breath of his own. Had my words already agitated him? If so, I feared just how far south this exchange could go.
"What is there to be gracious for? They brought Blackstone upon us, our hamlet is in ruins because of them." He rebutted. An unfair, unjustified assessment as far as I saw, but one that unfortunately had a reasonable, if flawed, foundation.
"Their actions were not intentional, we both know that. And now they seek to aid us in our fight now that they see the danger. Is that not enough to look past their initial unforeseen consequences?" I asked back. The young elder was hardly holding back his dissatisfaction by this point. For a moment I wondered if he'd even heard me over his pouting, but as I went to repeat myself, he spoke up.
"Those consequences included the death of my father. I will not just stand aside and let his murderers have free reign over our people." He shot back, venom in every word he spoke. So that's what this was about, I thought to myself. He blamed the knights for the death of Zulan. My own heart ached for my friend's loss, but to blame it on those who had nothing to do with it? The knights had proven that their loyalties did not lie with the Blackstone Legion, those responsible for Zulan's death.
"Do not let your grief blind you, Kharion. They are not the Blackstone Legion, have you forgotten that? Have you really lost sight of that?" I pressed. Kharion grit his teeth and growled as he nearly shouted his reply;
"They were, once!" I felt my heart sink a bit at these words. Was he referring to the cavalrymen? Why blame them when they had not swung the sword? If the Warden could trust them, was there any reason we could not? This was beyond unreasonable, how could he not see that?
"Those cavalrymen had nothing to do with his death and you know it. Do not think to-"
"I mean the Warden and his Conqueror!" He half yelled, interrupting me before I could finish my sentence. I could scarcely believe I'd just heard that. Those two? They were Blackstone before?
"What?" Was all that I could say. Kharion closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his temper calming as he did so. I was still reeling from his revelation. Were those two truly former members of Blackstone? I suppose that would make the Legion's aggression towards them, and by extension us, more understandable, but how could he know for certain? I didn't have to wait long for an answer to that question as Kharion spoke again, this time in a hushed tone.
"During our meeting with the vanguard's officers, we came into contact with one Holden Cross, Asmodai himself. He recognized them, Berrat. Went so far as to call them friends. They were Blackstone, Berrat. They knew what they risked coming to our hamlet." He explained. I could scarcely believe my ears. I'd heard of the Warden's grace, sparing Siegemund's life even when insulted and threatened. I'd seen how much he cared, ensuring the safety of his companion, rushing himself to lead Blackstone away from us. They were truly Blackstone once upon a time?
My mind began to race with frightening possibilities as I brought a hand to my chin in thought. Was it possible all of this was a plot? Carefully constructed lies for us to lower our guard? I'd never heard of such a thing being employed by the Blackstone Legion in the past, even against conspirators. Still, I knew a number of Peacekeepers were employed under Blackstone's banner, and those could be devilishly clever. It sounded ridiculous, but I had seen far stranger things in my years than a mere plot. Was such a thing truly possible?
No. That couldn't be right. Kharion had even said they only were Blackstone. Just like those cavalrymen, they weren't part of that anymore. Had I not given them the benefit of the doubt, and witnessed them fight for our people? The Warden and his Conqueror had done that even sooner, and had rushed to our hamlet's defense. The Warden had even been the first to charge into battle once the Legion was on our doorsteps, I couldn't picture him willingly leading Blackstone to us. It just didn't seem right, his actions didn't line up with Kharion's accusations. Besides, would a member of Blackstone willingly allow himself to be humbled before a town elder?
"No." I said quietly. Kharion's eyes furrowed as his grip on his arms tightened.
"Excuse me?" He asked indignantly. I looked back up and glared at my friend, seeing his own eyes breathing fire in my direction. If he wanted me to change my answer, he was going to be disappointed.
"I don't believe they conspire against us. Even if they were Blackstone in the past, both have acted against them from the start. They rushed to our aid, asked for nothing in return, and bled beside us. I have seen their character, Elder. They are not our enemy." I asserted. Kharion growled again, stepping closer to me, bringing his face within inches of mine.
"Intentionally or not, they have brought this danger to our doorstep and robbed us of our leader. We cannot trust them." He tried to say. Still trying to convince me, even after I'd said my piece? Just how deep in the throes of grief was he lost? It was telling that his first point was to our leader. An attempt to mask his pain by combining it with my own, perhaps? Regardless, I would not fall for it.
"And yet they have proven nothing but trustworthy. My conscience is clear in accepting their aid, Kharion. Is yours clear for denying it? How many rangers did we lose in our lone ambush?" I asked. Kharion's expression faltered for a moment, his eyes flickering back and forth as he slumped, the weight of my words sinking in. I feared that he still refused to consider them, however, as his resolve seemed to return in only a matter of seconds. Grunting in frustration, he turned away from me, marching down the path and towards the campsite. I did not follow him, and merely watched him go.
I could no longer see him as a leader, foolish or otherwise. I saw only a bitter and devastated child lashing out at the world, mourning for his father. My heart broke for him, and I pitied him. More than that however, I feared him. A man of unchecked emotion was a dangerous thing, both to himself and those around him. More dangerous still was one that was supposed to make sound judgementment. I could no longer rely on my friend, not for the time being.
Lest we lose what little hope we had to walk out of this alive…