Chapter 3.4 – Not Natural

Sixth Day of Learning 1127 (15 years ago)

Gallen Burke liked to think of himself as the type of warrior who had it together. He rarely felt fear, and then never allowed that fear to control his actions. He’d faced men and monsters. He’d faced long odds. In each case he not only controlled his fear, but performed above expectation…until now.

Why in the name of the gods had King Terrence summoned him? Had he done something wrong? Gallen tried to think back to everything that had occurred so far. He’d had no real contact with the king, and why should he have. He was just a guard. He hadn’t believed King Terrence even knew of his existence, much less knew his name. He’d gotten into an argument with Maynor, and everyone knew that the king and Maynor were close. But it hadn’t been that big a deal. Surely Maynor hadn’t reported him. He tried to remember the specific words he’d said but couldn’t. They’d both had too much to drink. Had he crossed the line? Would he be punished? If that wasn’t it, what else might it be?

The idea that King Terrence was displeased with him ate away at him, even as he made his way toward the king’s tent. They’d arrived in Death’s Doorstep only a week earlier, and during that time, order had emerged from the chaos. Now it came down to waiting. A tension pervaded the camp, leaving everyone on edge. Fights and arguments weren’t uncommon, and Gallen had been involved in a couple of them. But none of them had been that bad.

When he reached the tent, two guards told him to wait. They didn’t tell anyone inside that he’d arrived, so he stood there, trying to get a handle on his fear. He could do this. Hell, he had no choice, he wasn’t going to let the king see him cower. Whatever he did, he’d take the punishment like a man. He held onto that idea until the tent flap opened, and Maynor emerged. He was so surprised he didn’t even salute.

Maynor gestured to the tent with his thumb. His face gave away nothing, only increasing Gallen’s tension. Gallen entered, finding himself alone with the king. He knelt and kept his head down. It felt like forever before the king bade him rise, but it was probably only seconds. He stood up at full attention.

“Be at ease, soldier,” said the king. He didn’t sound angry.

“Yes, your majesty.”

“Lord Marshall Maynor and I were just talking. He seemed to think…”

“I’m sorry, your highness. I’d had a bit to drink, you see, and…”

The king started laughing, and Gallen’s words trailed off.

“You’re not here to be reprimanded, soldier. You’re here to be given a special assignment. Lord Commander Maynor thinks highly of you…even after what you called him.”

Gallen hoped that in the dimness of the tent, the king couldn’t see his cheeks redden. He’d made a fool of himself.

“Sorry, your highness. I have to admit, I was nervous when you summoned me.”

“It’s okay, soldier. You can relax now, but not for long. I want you to lead a team of scouts into enemy territory. They’ll be under your command. We have almost no information about what awaits us on the other side of the border. Bear in mind, this isn’t an easy ask. The risk is high, and there’s every chance you won’t be coming back, but this is important work. We need more information about the enemy.”

“I won’t let you down, sir.”

“Lord Commander Maynor has already selected a team. You’re to gear up and get moving. Take rations for at least a week. Make it ten days. I expect you back by that time. Whatever info you bring back is more than we have now, but don’t risk the men if you can help it. Avoid combat if you can.”

“I will, your highness.”

“Would you like a drink?”

“Sire?”

“It’s a simple enough question. I’m asking you to have a drink with me.”

Gallen blinked. “Sire, I’m sure you have better things to do.”

“Like what?”

Gallen blushed again. “I mean…”

“I know what you meant Gallen. I assure you, spending time with my men is a privilege, not a chore. If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t ask you to sit down with me and have a drink.”

“Yes, your highness.”

“When we’re alone, you can call me Terrence.”

This was too much. “Sire, if it’s all the same with you…”

“It’s not all the same with me, and it’s not a casual request. We’re out here together on the front line of a war where anything can happen. I don’t need my men second guessing themselves because they’re worried of what I might think or say. I want them comfortable enough with me that they’re willing to speak their mind openly. That doesn’t happen by accident.

“I don’t know you. Not yet. But I know Lord Commander Maynor, and he knows you and has good things to say. So it’s time I got to know you as well.”

“Yes, your highness.”

Terrence stared at him.

Gallen dropped his head, then forced himself to raise it. “So what are we drinking then? I have a feeling I might need more than one.”

The king laughed, and Gallen took the seat across from him. There was already an empty glass there and another in front of the king. There was a flagon on the table, an intricate design painted on its side. The king picked it up and poured an amber liquid into each of their cups.

“Fermented honey,” said the king.

“Oh?” Gallen had never had it before.

“It’s not to everyone’s taste, but I quite like it.”

Gallen lifted his glass and sniffed it.

“What shall we drink to?” asked the king.

“To Queen Treya,” said Gallen.

“I will always drink to her.”

They both took a hefty draught, and Gallen winced at the unexpected sweetness, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

“Tell me, soldier, what is it you want out of life?”

Gallen had lifted his glass. Now he stared at the king through it. “What does anyone want? Success. Happiness. Health.”

“A lot of people would have said riches.”

“Health and happiness are riches. They’re rarer than gold.”

“You’re an unusual man, first scout.”

“I’m not a first scout, Sire.”

“Are you calling me a liar, Gallen Burke?”

“No, sire. I would never do that.”

Terrence lifted his glass again. “To you, First Scout Burke. And to the success of your mission.”

Gallen finished his drink, and the king made is if he were going to pour another.

“Your highness, I would prefer getting on with it. I want to be clear headed for tomorrow.”

“I thought you said you’d need more than one.”

“With all due respect your highness, I’d probably need a lot more than is in that flagon. If I drank as much as I needed, I’d be useless tomorrow. I think it’s best if I keep a clear head.”

“Quite right,” said the king. “Off with you then. And good hunting.”

“Thank you, your highness.”

The king shook his head as Gallen knelt, motioned for him to rise and waved as he made his way from the tent. Gallen couldn’t wait to tell his friends what had happened but doubted any of them would believe him.

*

Eighth Day of Learning 1127 (15 Years ago)

“Wake up, soldier!”

Gallen opened his eyes. He could see sunlight coming from outside the tent. Maynor held the flap open, though he remained outside.

“What time is it?”

“Time for you to get up, get dressed and come meet your team. They’ve been waiting.”

“Waiting…”

“You’ve overslept.”

Gods. Not the first impression he’d been hoping to make.

“Sorry, Sir.”

“No need to apologize, that wretched stuff the king drinks has a bigger kick than you’d think. Also, if I don’t miss my guess, you were quite stressed by the entire ordeal. We need more sleep when we stress…which isn’t any excuse to be late on your first day.”

Gallen was already out of bed and pulling on his uniform. He hadn’t dreamt it then. He really did sit down for a drink with the king. He was going to lead a team into the Plains of Xarinos.

“Sorry, Sir. I’ll do better.”

When he emerged from the tent, the sun seemed impossibly bright. Around him, camp activity was already in full swing. Soldiers were practicing or caring for their weapons. Dawn patrols were already well on their way. Men and women whispered to each other. Rarely, a laugh rose above the quiet conversations, but there was no joy in the sound. Any positivity that penetrated the tense hush sounded forced. They were too close to the Undead King and his forces for any sort of comfort.

“I’m starved,” said Gallen, looking hopefully toward the mess tent.

“I’ll bet. That will teach you to sleep through breakfast. I understand why you overslept, but there are consequences to mistakes. The ones you make in camp aren’t going to be nearly as bad as the ones you make out there. Remember that.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He followed Maynor to one of the tents near the edge of camp, where a handful of soldiers, palace guards all, waited outside.

Auzz was the first to greet him. “Good afternoon, First Scout Gallen. Well done that.”

Auzz was a tall, well-built mage with short brown hair and lighter brown eyes. His perpetual half smirk seemed perfectly at home on his welcoming face.

Gallen grinned then surveyed the others. He was friendly with all six of them. Maynor had chosen the same group he’d have chosen. He looked at Maynor.

“This is the best you could get me?”

A few laughed, but Maynor was serious when he replied. “There wasn’t time to field a new team. They’d have been strangers with no chemistry. They’d have had to learn how to work together. On the other hand, you’ve been training together for a while now. And together you cover most of the necessary skills for a scouting party.”

Gallen nodded and walked to stand with the others, then turned toward Maynor. The Lord Commander would be almost thirty by now, ten years older than Gallen. He had a shaggy mane of brown hair, and a beard that looked like it had won the battle with the razor attempting to keep it trim. He liked to drink and fight and was good at both. His brown eyes would have seemed ordinary if not for the intensity of his stare, as if he could see straight into your soul. And when he spoke, as he did now, Maynor commanded attention.

“Look, I’m not going to lie to you—this is a dangerous mission. I wish I could tell you that you were chosen on merit alone, but it’s not true. You were chosen because you’re expendable—good at what you do, but not so good that your death will have some bearing on the war effort. In short, you’re underpowered for what we’re asking you to do.

“It means that when you run into a group of enemies, you avoid them if you can…even a small group.”

“We could probably take four or five,” said Sato.

Maynor shook his head emphatically. “The truth is, you probably can’t. The undead are stronger and faster than unleveled humans, and at least as skilled as Tier 1 soldiers. That means even if you see a single enemy, alone, tied-up, with all of his limbs missing, you’re to go around him.

“Sure,” said Sato, “I get that. That’s why the gods invented bows.”

This last was met with a chorus of groans and a couple of chuckles.

“Bad Sato is up to his old tricks,” said Mauri.

Gallen cut in. “Not this time. Our mission is to gather information, and we don’t want to call attention to ourselves doing it.”

Maynor nodded appreciatively. “Explore the terrain. Get landmarks. Learn the lay of the land. Anything that can help us strategically. One or two less undead soldiers isn’t going to change the shape of this war, but the information you bring back might. We’ve never penetrated the Plains of Xarinos. All we have are contradictory rumors. Some say the gods can’t reach us in there. Some say there’s no food or water. We need to know what we’re going to encounter, if and when we enter.”

“If?” said Mauri. “Surely we’re not just going to sit here and wait for them to come to us.”

“They won’t be making any decision without more information,” said Osdor, who stood close by.

Though they both wore leather armor, the two were a study in contrast. Mauri looked about thirty-five, ten years older than the rest of them. He carried himself the way a lifelong soldier did. Straight backed even when he was relaxed, barrel-chested, thick-armed. He sported a neatly trimmed brown beard but no mustache. He kept his brown hair short. Mauri often said there was no reason to give the enemy something else to grab hold of.

Osdor leaned toward support roles with skills that buffed the party and kept them alive, though she could deal out a fair amount of damage as well. Almost as tall as Mauri, she had short, light-brown hair, held back from her face at the moment by a silver headband inscribed with Sylinar’s symbol. She was pretty but didn’t get hit on much, partly because she hung out with Mauri and partly because she had mastered the art of letting men know exactly what they were in for with a simple glance. Most men opted for less dangerous prey.

“We’re not likely to assault Zarinos unless we absolutely have to,” said Maynor. “Even with our numbers advantage, there are a lot of strategic disadvantages. But we’ll hopefully know more when you complete your mission. You should discuss tactics, gear up, and prepare yourselves. I want you on the road at dawn tomorrow.”

“Yes sir,” said Gallen.

“I’ll leave you to it then. If you have questions, I’ll be around doing Lord Commander things, whatever those are.”

They all chuckled. They knew Maynor wasn’t really one of them, being noble born and all, but you couldn’t tell by how he treated them. Gallen was determined to follow that example. He might be the leader of this squad, but he was going to listen to advice, because all of them were good at something.

“So what’s the plan?” asked Auzz. Though he was newer than most of the guards, his focus and dedication stood out to anyone paying attention. He must have impressed Maynor, or he’d never have been selected for the team.

“I was going to ask the same thing,” said Gallen. “This is a talented group. I’m open to ideas.”

“I can heal,” said Tiny. Tiny was shorter than any of the others. She had curly brown hair. Her green eyes were constantly on the move, taking in everything around her. She was organized and communicated well. And she was great at moderating disputes, a skill they hopefully wouldn’t need during the mission.

“I was hoping to have you scout.”

“I can m too.”

“A healer should stay with their team,” said Jenn. “If someone needs healing, having to ride out and bring back the scout seems like a bad idea.”

“Jenn’s right,” said Gallen. 

“If Tiny heals, I can scout,” said Jenn. “I have enough movement and stealth skills.”

“I’m okay with it, if you think you can handle it.”

“I can do it.”

Jenn was relatively new to the guard. Gallen might not have noticed her at all, if she hadn’t complained so loudly about cutting her hair before setting out. She had worn her long, blond-streaked black hair in intricate braids, both on the side of her head and down her back. Maynor didn’t waste time telling her to cut it short. She argued and, predictably, lost that argument. She had mourned the loss of those braids, but as Maynor had noted, you can regrow hair far more easily than you can regrow your head.

Jenn was easy to overlook until the first time you noticed her, after which she was impossible to forget. She had blazing blue eyes and a temper to match them. She spoke her mind consistently, to everyone and anyone. She was fearless but also impulsive, often acting before thinking. Gallen would have to keep an eye on her.

Sato shook his head. “Maybe you should leave me behind. I mean if one of those undead bastards gets too close, I can’t promise I’ll behave.”

“You’ll just have to learn,” said Jenn. “It can’t be that hard. Gallen learned…mostly.”

Gallen chuckled.

Sato was the final member of the team—tall, broad shouldered, with a wiry strength that Gallen wouldn’t have liked to test in battle. He had dark eyes, dark hair, and skin so tan that he might have been from southern Andara. He also had a wild look about him that belied his nature. Sato was a nice guy. Friendly, jovial, and always had a smile for everyone. Unfortunately, when he smiled the widest, it usually meant he was about to take you down.

“Let’s go requisition some supplies and find something to eat,” said Gallen. “I haven’t had breakfast yet.”

“That’ll teach you to oversleep,” said Osdor, grinning. “Aren’t you supposed to be setting an example?”

“Why? It’s not like any of you would follow it.”

They all laughed as they moved off to the supply tent.

“You think they’d let us have a warship?” asked Gallen.

“There’s no water where we’re going,” said Tiny. “How would you get it to where we’re going?”

“I’d have Sato carry it.”

“Easy,” said Sato. “I’ve been carrying your ass for two years anyway. What’s an extra warship.”

*

Ninth Day of Learning 1127 (15 Years ago)

A dead tree marked the end of the world—at least that’s how it seemed to Gallen.

It stood defiant on a rocky peninsula sticking out over a maze of canyons that stretched into the distance, a lighter shade of gray than the barren rock it grew on. How the tree could have grown there in the first place was anyone’s guess. It was short, wide, its bare branches stretching sideways rather than upwards—a sentinel separating the lands of the living from the lands of the dead.

For the first two days, Xarinos felt and looked like anywhere else. Grasses, some solitary trees (though no tall ones), occasional shrubs, and some insect and bird life. By the third day, the grass ran more brown than green, and the trees were more stunted and gnarled. And then there was no grass, no trees, nothing but stone in different shades of gray. No animal life save for multitudinous biting flies that pursued them relentlessly as they advanced deeper into Xarinos.

Just when they thought it couldn’t get any worse, a fog had rolled in, limiting visibility—which is when they came upon the canyon maze.

Here the ground itself had been rent as if it had been clawed repeatedly by some giant hunting beast. From each crevice rose a thin black mist, giving the entire area a demonic aspect.

“I guess this is where the fun begins,” said Osdor, staring at the maze laid out before them. “Do you think we can get across?”

Gallen was already busy trying to trace a pathway that would allow them to continue forward. The problem was, the other end was so far away, he couldn’t see it.

“This is a trap,” said Mauri. “This can’t be natural.”

“So we’ll get a chance to kill something?” asked Sato, hopefully.

“Not if we don’t have to,” said Gallen. “Let’s see if we can get around it.”

They turned east, walking along the canyon maze rather than into it. With the fog as thick as it was, they couldn’t tell how far it extended. After a couple of hours of walking, Gallen began to believe it stretched too far to go around.

“Should we backtrack and try the other direction?” asked Auzz.

“I don’t think so. We’ve already lost time. I think we need to try to cross.”

“At least the fog seems to be thinning,” said Osdor.

Gallen nodded. “We guide our horses forward. Move slowly. Make sure we’re not walking into a dead end so we won’t have to backtrack.”

“Easier said than done,” said Tiny. “If we can’t see the other side, it seems unlikely we’ll make it all the way through on our first try.”

“How long till nightfall?” asked Gallen.

Mauri studied the sky. “A couple of hours?”

“Then we should camp, and start out in the morning, so we have more light. I’d hate to have to camp on…whatever that is.”

“I’m going to go forward to scout a bit,” said Jenn. “I won’t go too far.”

“All right, but take Mauri with you,” said Gallen. “No one moves alone from this point on.”

“I’ll go,” broke in Sato. “Let the old man rest his tired feet.”

Mauri looked like he was about to object when he saw the hopeful look on Sato’s face.

“I am feeling a bit tired.”

“Fine,” said Gallen. “But at the first sign of trouble, I want you back here.”

“Of course,” said Sato, which reassured no one. Gallen felt uneasy watching them walk off, but they were his people and he trusted them. Sato was one of the best they had, and Jenn could take care of herself as well.

They all watched as the two walked out onto one of the walkways, staying to the center, away from the drops on either side.

Gallen glanced at Mauri. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“About?”

“My promotion. It should have been you…everyone knows it.”

Mauri raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because you’re better with a sword than anyone here. Because you’re older and more experienced.”

“So?”

“So with you in charge, this mission would have a better chance of success.”

Mauri chuckled. “Do you know how many times I’ve been offered a promotion?”

“No.”

“I lost count at ten. If I wanted to lead, I’d have been leading years ago…but I have no interest in command.”

“But you’d be great at it.”

“Maybe. You know the difference between Maynor and me?”

“Twenty, maybe thirty pounds,” said Osdor. Gallen hadn’t even been aware that he’d been listening.

Mauri ignored her. “I go home at night and sleep. I do what I’m told, help out to the best of my ability, and then I have a drink, go on a date, play some baja if I have the coin to gamble. I don’t sit around and stress about what went wrong and how it could go better tomorrow. I’m free of that worry. You think you took something from me? You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. If this mission is successful, and I hope it is, you’ll be on a fast track to promotion. Everyone will know your name. The expectations placed on you will get greater and greater, and you’ll have to carry that weight.”

“I can do it,” said Gallen.

“I know you can. It’s why I’ll follow you and take orders. Because I believe you can do it. That’s not the same as believing you should.”

“You think I should have said no to King Terrence?”

“No. But I think I would have…again. I’m not jealous that you’ve been promoted. Hell, if that’s what you want, I’m thrilled for you. But there will be days, possibly many days, when you’ll regret this choice.”

Gallen nodded, somberly. “I know you’re right. But if everyone thought like you, who would lead us?”

“If everyone thought like me, maybe we wouldn’t need an army.”

Gallen didn’t say anything else and returned his attention to the figures retreating across the broken valley, lost in thought.

*

While the others were talking, Auzz moved closer to the lip of one of the canyons. He knelt beside it, noting that the edge was smooth as if it had been eroded by water. The black mist hovered above the edge and spilled over onto the ground before him. He reached out a single finger and moved it slowly toward the mist.

As his finger approached, the mist retreated as if it were somehow alive. He pursed his lips and furrowed his brow, thinking about it. Mauri had said this couldn’t be natural and perhaps he was right, but there was something about the mist that bothered him. He had read something a long time ago, or heard a story about…

Then he had it. When he was young, one of his uncles had told a story about cracks in the earth and mist spilling out of it. As he combed his memory for details, his eyes went wide. He immediately called out to the others.

Jenn, Sato…get back here!”

Jenn turned at the sound of her name. Auzz noticed that Sato was approaching the edge of the pit. Gallen was beside him in a second.

“What is it?”

“When I was young, my uncle used to tell stories about his days as an adventurer…”

As they watched, two large, winged black creatures flew out of the canyon. They hovered menacingly in the air. Sato pulled his blade as he jumped back.

“Form up, let’s move out!” yelled Gallen, but it was too late. They’d never reach Jenn and Sato in time to help.

“What the hell are they?” asked Mauri.

“Giant Rock Wasps,” said Auzz. “They’re going to try to knock them into the chasm.”

“Move away from the edge,” yelled Gallen, though he wasn’t sure they could hear him. He started moving as soon as the others had gathered. Weapons drawn, they ran out onto the maze, moving as fast as they dared across the treacherous walkways.

Jenn pulled her bow, withdrew an arrow from her quiver and moved into a position to back Sato up.

Sato swiped at one, and it hovered away from him. The other darted in, but Jenn fired an arrow into it. It didn’t penetrate the creature’s carapace, though the force of the shot knocked the creature back.

Then four more giant wasps crested the canyon wall and attacked.