Parn frowned. “We should bury these other poor souls. We can’t just leave them here.”
Ghim nodded silently and unstrapped his axe. The side opposite from the blade had a sharp, hooked tip. He held the axe with that side down, chose a suitable spot, and swung it hard into the ground. The steel claw tore into the earth, breaking the packed soil apart. Meanwhile, Parn found a wooden board and started digging out the dirt. The small hole grew steadily.
Slayn sat down with his back to the road so he wouldn’t have to see the horrible sight and stared instead out at the beautiful fields spread out before him. Questions swirled in his mind. The sorceress, of course, was foremost in his thoughts, but Ghim’s behavior was also bothering him. The dwarf had clearly been transfixed by the portrait in the abandoned house. How could he claim that he’d forgotten it now? For someone who showed little interest in anything but food, he was suddenly charging ahead like a man on a mission. Why would Ghim care so much about Marmo’s minions? There was also the fact that it was odd for a dwarf to go on a journey in the first place—they usually preferred to spend life underground, perfecting their crafts. When Ghim had first visited Slayn, however, he’d been doing research—looking through books of riddles and maps of Lodoss.
Does Ghim have some purpose he’s not told us? Did he find a clue?
Etoh’s chanting filled the air without pause while Ghim, Parn, and Deedlit dug graves. They carried the corpses with as much reverence as they could manage and thrust the knights’ swords into the ground as grave markers. A little distance away, they buried the bodies of the caravan guards. As their somber work continued, the sun started to set, and the blue sky faded into dusk.
“This wizard cast a spell knowing it would kill her own soldiers?” Parn asked bitterly.
“I don’t think so,” Deedlit responded. “I checked over the bodies, and the caravan warriors died from stab wounds. The spell was cast after their deaths. The parts of their bodies in contact with the ground weren’t burned.”
“Still—even if they were already dead, I can’t believe she’d use magic on her own people.”
“Magic shouldn’t be used for destruction at all,” Slayn said. “But what do we do now?”
“We keep going, of course,” Parn declared with complete certainty. Next to him, Ghim nodded.
“You want to fight this sorceress?” Slayn asked, just to make sure. “She’s powerful enough to slaughter multiple foes in one attack. I hate to say it, but don’t you think you’re in over your head?”
“Maybe, I guess,” Parn said with a shrug. “But we can’t let her get away with this.”
“Say we do defeat her,” Woodchuck said, unimpressed. “What do we get out of it? I’m not working for free.”
“Your reward will come from within your own heart,” Etoh answered, coming up behind him.
Woodchuck turned to face the priest. Etoh was clearly exhausted from the effort he’d put into his magic, but his work had paid off—behind him, shaky with pain but standing on his own two legs, was the surviving Valis knight.
Parn beamed.
“The King of Valis will reward you,” the knight said quietly.
“Can you tell us what happened?” Parn asked.
The man nodded. “I am a Valis Imperial Guard—my duty was to protect Princess Fianna.”
“Princess Fianna, princess of Valis?!” Parn interrupted in surprise.
“Let him finish,” Deedlit chided him.
“Yes, exactly. Princess Fianna is King Fahn’s only daughter. This war had a profound effect on her. She wanted to encourage our men on the front lines. Everyone in the castle, the King included, was against the idea—but the princess insisted. She ran away…”
The knight paused for a moment, so Deedlit prompted him. “So, you went to search for her?”
“That’s right. We found out that a merchant had helped her sneak away. We discovered where they’d gone and caught up with them to take her back…and this is the result.”
“We slew a few guards who attacked us as we approached. When we got close to the carriage, that woman came out—she chanted some strange words, and as soon as she finished there was a huge explosion. I was blown off my horse, and I’m ashamed to say that I passed out from the pain…”
Woodchuck leaned in to peer at the man’s face.
“Will there really be a reward?” he asked.
“If you can rescue the princess, I promise you will receive whatever your heart desires.”
Ten thousand gold coins. The words flashed through Woodchuck’s mind—the payment he needed to become an executive of the Thieves’ Guild. I’ll just have to hope it all works out, he thought to himself, and went to retrieve his pack. I guess I’m a sucker, too.
The group took a few moments to talk. Parn and Etoh had already decided to help, of course—reward or no. Ghim and Deedlit had no objections, and mention of the reward had obviously brought Woodchuck around. Slayn was still worried, but he’d made his decision—he’d do what had to be done to take that sorceress down.
Parn went to the knight and represented the entire group to formally offer their help.
“Thank you,” the knight said with a deep bow. When he raised his head, he glared in the direction the carriage had gone with rage in his eyes, like his glare could somehow reach the woman through the darkness.
Parn’s anger also burned, though not as fiercely as the knight’s. Deedlit stared at him in wonder. How was he able to take someone else’s anger as his own? How could he risk his life for another person’s cause?
The night was dark, only lit by weak starlight—Deedlit was sure the humans would have a tough time. She cast an elemental spell, intoning, “Shining things that live in light, gather here and show yourselves…” A small ball of light floated above her in response, growing steadily brighter.
It was Will-o’-wisp, the light elemental.
Slayn recited his own spell, and a magical light glowed from the tip of his staff. Thus guided by their magical illuminations, they left the burning stench of the battleground behind—though their trepidation remained as they started east down the road to Kanon, accompanied by the Valis knight they’d rescued.