Chapter Fourteen - Sibling Rivalry
The man that I assumed was Trafus’ brother and his posse led us through the forest toward Fork. The ones that weren’t carrying our stuff had bows notched and ready to fire, complete with a twitch to their hands that looked like they desperately wanted to do so. Trafus’s brother had his hands clasped behind his back the entire time.
We walked at a leisurely stroll, a pace that would be right at home if we didn’t look like a private militia and their hostages. At least we didn’t need to walk with our hands behind our heads, though our hands were tied. Cameron’s mouth was also taped up, to prevent her from using any spells. I would have ripped the tape off her mouth if I had the chance, but I didn’t.
Trafus’ brother didn’t speak, neither did his men. It was as if this were nothing to him but a pleasant walk through the forest, as if he were alone. I wanted so very much to break the silence, but every time I was about to speak, Sari shook her head and I kept quiet. She was playing at something that she wasn’t telling me, that was for sure.
Instead, I thought about the things I had just learned at the campfire, at Sari’s lineage and the bounties on our heads. The only people I assumed would want us dead would be the Empire, which made sense for me and Sari, but not Cam. She hadn’t done anything since joining us, and the Empire wouldn’t know about her regardless. I could only assume we had been watched since we entered Imperial territory, but that still wouldn’t account for how they’d know she was a mage.
I wasn’t seeing the big picture yet. Someone seemed to know more about us than we did, and that just disgusted me.
I stumbled somewhat on a rock that I hadn’t noticed. I didn’t land on anybody, but one of the bowmen nudged my back with the tip of his arrow. “Don’t do that again, kid,” he said, his voice suggesting he smoked at least a pack a day.
I shot him a glance over my shoulder. “Don’t worry, dickhead, I won’t.”
Trafus’ brother chuckled. “Don’t take their threats too seriously, young Cres,” he said as if he and I were having a casual chat, “he’s under orders not to harm you.”
“That’s reassuring,” Sari said, her tone outrageously smartassy.
“It should be. My men are the most lethal in all the Empire.”
“So rare to see a headhunter who uses grunts,” I commented, “most of them keep to themselves.” I motioned toward Trafus with a head nudge. “Like your brother, here.”
The asswipe stopped, as did his men. We did, too, probably just because everybody else did. He turned around and moved closer to me. He said nothing right away, merely stood directly in front of me and tried to look intimidating. Little did he know, I wasn’t easily intimidated.
He put his face right in mine and sniffed. It was weird, but I didn’t say anything in response. Finally, he said, “You think me a headhunter, boy? You think I’d stoop to something so low as to kill a man and collect his bounty?”
“You tellin’ me you’re just a normal bounty hunter? Even then, this kinda crew is a little overboard.”
He sniffed again. “As a matter of fact, I’m not a headhunter or a bounty hunter. If you remain alive long enough, you’ll find that I am a mercenary.”
There was a long silence before I asked, “Why would it matter if I live long enough if you’re just gonna tell me anyway?”
Trafus growled out, “Don’t encourage him.”
The asshole walked over to Trafus and grabbed him by the face. “I’ll ask you kindly to silence yourself, Trafus. You’re not likely to survive this journey, and I’d very much to prefer that Mother believes you died from a wild animal, not the stroke of my sword.”
I laughed. “A headhunter and a mercenary. Your mother must be so proud of the two of you.”
The brother kept up his intimidation game, but this time, he upped it by drawing one of those long knives and pressing it against my neck. “As you’ll soon find out, boy, Mother is quite proud of both of us, and she does not take kindly to insolent twats like you. Please, don’t presume yourself in control of this situation.”
I smirked. “You really need to ease up on the breath mints. Or stop cleaning your knives in peppermint oil.”
I heard Sari laugh, and Cameron made some approximation of a noise that sounded like a laugh.
Of course, the joke actually did have some repercussions. Namely, the asswipe’s knife across my face. “Cres!” Sari shouted, though she couldn’t move, as one of the bowmen had his arrow notched and held to her face.
I felt blood dripping from the wound. I couldn’t see it, but I could tell it likely looked worse than it really was. Or I was in shock, one or the other. Honestly, it might’ve been both. Shock from how bad it wasn’t. I was sure that was maybe a thing.
Regardless, I coughed and said, “That tickled.”
Trafus growled his words again, “Pytre, stop!”
Pytre. Finally I had a name for the sphincter. Would wonders never cease.
Pytre laughed, a strange thing that I honestly never wanted to hear again. “Please, Trafus, the three of you wander into an area under my protection and you believe I’ll simply allow you any sort of pleasantries?” He grabbed me by the face. “You’re sorely mistaken.”
“There are four of us, fuckface,” I said, in spite of his hand over my mouth.
“The girl doesn’t count.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cameron roll her eyes in disgust. I wanted to laugh.
But Pytre saw nothing funny about this. Instead, he pushed me down onto the ground, sheathed his long knife and drew his sword. It was such a large blade that he needed to take a few steps back to make certain he didn’t hit anyone by retrieving it. The most amazing thing to me, however, was that he wielded it as if it weighed nothing, or at least no more than his knives weighed.
He did nothing but stand there for the longest time, likely another intimidation tactic or something. Eventually, he started to circle me, as if he were some sort of vulture. His bowmen moved themselves as well as their prisoners out of the way. Finally, he stopped and brought the blade to within an inch of my neck and held it completely still.
“I don’t particularly want to kill you, but your friends will take your example to heart, Cres.” He lowered the blade to the point where it was touching my neck. “You won’t live long enough for me to tell you that I had decided to kill you all the second you entered my territory.”
This time I did laugh. “You really don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about most of the time, do ya?”
He lifted the blade a little. “What?”
“‘You won’t live long enough to learn what I’m about to tell you anyway’. Jesus, man, that’s half your schtick.” I hadn’t heard the click of my pocket knife hitting the ground by my hand, but my fingers had found it at some point that I also hadn’t been aware of. In seconds, I had the rope binding my hands cut, and I managed to roll onto my back to kick the sword away from my neck. “You’re either a gloating bastard or you don’t know how words work.”
He looked surprised, if for no other reason than because his men had searched me and somehow missed my pocket knife. Honestly, that had surprised me as well, but it was damned lucky. I stood up, then wiped the blood from my cheek. Not as bad as I’d been afraid of, that was good.
Still, it could end up worse since I was standing there facing down a man with a comically large sword while only holding a pocket knife.
Thankfully, Trafus was there to be the… voice of reason, I suppose. “Stop this, Pytre!” He stepped between us, his back turned to me. “You’ve no reason to kill any of us. Let me collect my bounty, and I’ll leave this area for good.”
Pytre made no movement. He said nothing. He merely stood there, holding the sword in one hand, with a bored expression on his face.
Then, finally, “I don’t think so.” He sheathed his sword and retrieved more rope from his side pack. “You’ll be taken to see Mother, as I’d intended from the beginning. She’ll decide what’s to be done to you. Perhaps you’ll live long enough to find it’ll be unpleasant.”
As Pytre walked over to me to tie my hands again, I quickly raised my knife. “No.”
He smiled. “Fine. You won’t be bound again. Stay in line and nothing more will happen.”
I merely glared at him.
Fork was a small village, smaller even than Endawa had been. There were three buildings, an inn and two houses. One of the houses looked like it had either been recently built or very well maintained, the other house looked derelict, as though it would fall apart at any moment regardless of how much was done to repair it.
Pytre led us from the forest into the village, where he stopped us and the bowmen kept their weapons trained on us. He proceeded to go inside the inn and left us all outside. I assumed this was standard procedure for the asshole and his men, because there wasn’t even one word spoken between them when he left us.
I stepped over to Trafus. “Care to explain?” I asked.
He snarled for a moment, like some kind of rabid animal, then said, “He’s going to inform the commander of the city guard. After that, he’ll take us to Mother.”
I stuck my hands in my pockets. “What exactly is your mother to all this? She the village elder or mayor or something?”
He laughed. “You could say that. Fork isn’t exactly a village. It’s our home.”
“What?”
He motioned to the bowmen with his head. “These men, all my family.” He looked specifically at the one to his left. “This is my cousin, Joakeem.” He nodded toward the one over my shoulder. “That’s my half-brother, Arteth. Pytre’s mercenaries are his own family, my family.”
Sari looked at the one closest to her. “And you guys have exactly zero problems with holding your family at arrow point?”
That one shrugged. “Money’s money, and Mother pays us well to keep the family estate clear of outsiders. That includes family members who left.”
“Wait, Fork is your family estate?”
“On the contrary, Lady Sarika,” an older voice said, female. I turned to the direction of the sound and saw a woman in her mid sixties wearing combat gear, with an armor chestplate and an open helmet. She had a pair of longswords crossed on her back, and a Qinatan blade sheathed on her left hip. Beside her stood Pytre and another man who was likely the father to this whole family. “Fork is our family name. The land is our estate.”
I piped in, “But Trafus’ last name is - ”
Trafus cut me off. “It’s my father’s last name.”
“Of course it is…”
The old woman stopped in front of me and held out her hand. “The headhunter’s son, Cres. It’s an honor to meet you.”
I didn’t shake her hand. “Honor’s all yours.”
She took the hint. “You’ll be given ten hours before your execution for trespassing. You’ll be given food and bedding for the duration.”
Sari rolled her eyes. “What the fuck? You’re gonna room and board us and then put us out of your misery?”
“Of course. It’s the Fork way.”
I turned to Trafus. “Is this why you left?”
He nodded. “Among other reasons. The family business and I didn’t agree.”
Sari asked, “What part? The money?”
“The mercenary work. Hiring myself out is less dignified than killing a man and taking money for it.”
I turned back to the woman. “I disagree, but with both of you.” I walked over to the guy holding my sword. “Now gimme my stuff, let us go, and you’ll be free to deal with Trafus all you like.”
One of the longswords was now resting on my shoulder. “You don't seem to understand, young headhunter. You’re to be executed.”
Sari screamed, “Why?!”
“For trespassing on Fork land.”
“Trafus brought us here,” I said, wary of the sword ready to cleave my head off. “You kill him, we’ll be on our way.”
The sword moved, so I turned back to the old woman, who returned the blade to the scabbard on her back. “Trafus brought you this way?”
“No, I’m makin’ it up! What the hell did I just tell you?! We’re on our way to Endawa, we didn’t even want to come this way!” I left out that I’d suggested dropping by for the night. It was better that way. Otherwise, the bitch might want to kill us just for suggesting that.
She walked over to Trafus and grabbed him by the collar. “Is this true?”
“Maybe I felt like visiting you all after I collected my bounty,” he answered, his voice cold.
She threw him to the ground, a surprisingly forceful move for an old woman, but then again, she was packing longswords. “You were a fool!” She turned to Pytre. “They get five hours instead, ready the gallows.” She pointed to me. “And tie him up again.”
I rolled my eyes. Jesus Christ…
I was tossed in one of the rooms of the building I'd earlier believed to be an inn. Instead, what I found was a prison cell, complete with concrete walls and metal bars. There wasn’t a cot, merely a concrete slab on the floor with a cinder block acting as a pillow. There wasn’t a toilet, just a hole in the floor with an open pipe and a roll of moldy paper towels beside it.
The Fork family wasn't as hospitable as they first appeared…
The family member that shoved me in the cell reached through the bars and cut off the new rope I'd been tied with and then left without a word. I just rubbed at one wrist, then sat down on the bed slab. The girls and Trafus were elsewhere, though I assumed they were close. The building was only two stories tall, so it wasn't exactly large. Hopefully escape wouldn't be too difficult.
Of course, I'd also need to find the weapons, which were presumably sitting in some part of the main house, being mulled over by these assholes as trophies or something. They'd find themselves so very wrong as soon as I got out and sliced them all into tiny bits. I wasn't bloodthirsty by nature, but these bastards just got under my skin.
Including Trafus. I wanted to gut him most of all, just for getting us into this, but also because we were just a bounty to him. Who wanted us dead wasn't a concern of mine yet, but the fact that somebody did want us dead was insulting. I was just trying to kill a goddamn dragon, was that so hard to understand? Not like I was a threat to anyone who didn't cross me.
I leaned back against the wall and tried to calm myself. It wasn't easy, but I managed it.
I studied the area around the cell. The cell itself wasn’t large, only about ten feet from floor to ceiling and nine by nine all around. There was one window, small enough that they didn’t even bother with bars. The corridor outside the cell was stark, without even as much as a stain on the wall opposite the cells. I’d seen when being brought in that the cells only lined one wall, which I assumed was the case on the other floors as well.
There was little light in the corridor or the cells, and I couldn’t see if there were lights in the ceiling. There were posts along the corridor wall that looked like somebody could hang a lantern there. Maybe the Forks were insanely old-fashioned when it came to how they maintained their prison. Not like we had electricity for two hundred years or anything. This place disgusted me more and more every second.
The most unfortunate part of all of this was that I couldn’t see anything that looked even partially like a way out. The bars were too sturdy, the window too small and overall the place was too dark to really see anything. There was no place to hide in the cell in order to sneak attack one of the Forks when they came to grab me for my execution, so all I could really do was sit there and wait.
I was distracted by a noise, from outside. I stood up and walked to the pitiful excuse for a window and tried to see what it was. I could see Pytre and one of his other brothers setting up the gallows for our execution. Mother was standing off to the side, watching the whole thing. She looked pleased with her sons, or herself, one or the other. I wanted to spit on them.
Then one of the bowmen walked up to her and pointed in my direction. She glanced up at me, then simply nodded. Seconds later, an arrow was loosed, and I ducked out of the way. The arrow itself snapped in half as it hit the top edge of the window, and the head did something outright miraculous: it bounced off the window ledge, then the wall, then the floor and then managed to lodge itself in my leg.
“Goddamnit!” I shouted. The damn thing hurt, absurdly so.
And then Trafus laughed. “Asyaif is a good shot. When he was only seven, he was the head bowman in our hunting party.”
I tried to pull the arrowhead out of my leg, but it was stuck in there but good. Instead, I growled, “I don’t need to know how good your brothers are at anything, okay?”
He laughed again. “Asyaif is my nephew, not my brother.”
“Funny, aside from your mother, I haven’t seen any women here.”
“You can imply what you want, but my brothers and cousins do have families of their own. They live here, on the family land, as a matter of fact.”
“Where? In a cave?”
“You’re not far off. There are tunnels under this land, and the families live there, maintaining the illusion that our land is only home to a few.”
I laughed, but it was pained. “Bet they’re all pale as fuck.”
“You’re not wrong.”
I sat back against the wall, doing my damndest to ignore the pain from the arrowhead. “Tell me, Trafus, why did you leave the family?”
He didn’t answer right away. He was either trying to figure out what lie to tell me or just trying to figure out what words to use. Honestly, for the first time since I met him, I thought he was actually ready to show some emotion.
Finally, he answered the question: “Pytre and I were on a scouting trip near Vesta, on the eastern coast of the Empire. The family had been hired to raid a pirate crew, and Mother had sent the two of us ahead. She did that frequently, to stoke the fires of our little sibling rivalry. Pytre and I had always been at each other's’ throats for Mother’s attention.”
“That’s what this boils down to? Sibling rivalry?”
“Not entirely. We made it onto the pirate ship, determined to finish the assignment without any of the rest of the family. I made it into the holds first and found that this pirate ship was nothing of the sort.”
“It wasn’t a pirate ship?”
“No. It was staffed by pirates, yes; but these weren’t garden variety brigands. They were a group of Qinatans, hired to ferry people back and forth between nations whenever someone needed to leave Qinata. What I found in the holds were families, mostly women and children whose men had been conscripted in the Qinatan imperial army.” He was quiet for a few minutes, almost as if for dramatic effect or something. He continued shortly after. “When I told Pytre, he ignored me, and then he slaughtered the crew, killed the families and sank the ship.”
I felt my jaw drop. I figured Pytre for an asshole, turned out he was a monster. All in the name of the gold, I suppose. “So, you switched career paths from merc to headhunter because you asshat brother murdered innocents? And despite this moment of humanity in your past, you still wanted to kill Sari, Cameron and me.”
His moment of silence told me he was choosing his words. “I don't kill innocents, or children.”
“Except when the money's good?”
“You and your women aren't innocents. The High Chieftain is a party to murder regardless of whether she was there or not, and the mage is a soldier in a war that’s been raging for centuries. You being the son of a headhunter means you lost your own right at innocence long ago.”
I stood up and grabbed the bars, even though he couldn’t see me. “Look, fuckface, I don’t care who you think my father was, even if he was a headhunter, that doesn’t reflect on me.”
“Sins of the father, Cres. I’m in a similar situation.”
I let go of the bars. “Ideological bullshit. I’m my own man, what my father did doesn’t have jackshit to do with me. Especially since the white dragon killed him.”
He laughed. “You can feel that way if you choose, but there are many out there who would disagree with you, not just me.”
I didn’t say anything. Anything I did say would have likely prodded him into having the last word anyway, so I just let it happen. I needed to stop letting what he said about my dad get to me. I knew he was wrong, so it didn’t matter what he said. And regardless, I wasn’t my dad. I was going to avenge my dad.
And yet I still felt like shit at the very thought of what he was saying.
Five hours later, the sun had set and clouds had begun to roll in as we were brought back out into the yard before the gallows. At least half of Trafus’ family were carrying torches, providing the classic execution atmosphere. All we needed was torrential downpour, thunder and lightning and we’d be hitting every cliche in the book.
Mother walked onto the gallows and stood before everyone. We were positioned between the crowd and the gallows, facing away from the crowd, shoved to our knees. I assumed the bitch was going to give some sort of speech. I was not proved wrong.
“Before you stands four trespassers on Fork land. The son of the legendary headhunter Siorcas, the High Chieftain of the Plains Tribe, a mage and the One Who Left.”
I glanced over at Trafus. “Look at that, you got a nickname.” The guy who’d dragged me out elbowed me in the back of the head for my comment.
The hag carried on: “These trespassers felt they could infringe upon Fork land and succeed in their efforts, never to face retribution. As we have done for all our history, we shall show these criminals the consequences of their actions.”
I stood up. “The only actions we took were sitting on the edge of your land while we made camp.”
“As is punishable by death. This is private property.”
I rolled my eyes. “Private property, Jesus Christ. Put up some goddamn signs then, you stupid bitch!”
I would have laughed at the chorus of “Don’t talk that way about Mother” that came from the assembled Fork brothers around me. That included Trafus, which was hilarious in its own right.
“I’m serious, dumbshits! Imperial law clearly states that no actions against trespassers can be taken unless the land is clearly marked and proper signage is applied.” I didn’t actually know if that was true, and honestly gave exactly no fucks if it was, but this bitch wanted to act like her word was law, so I figured making one up would be my best chance.
I just needed to figure out what my chance would be.
Unsurprisingly, it did nothing. “Imperial law doesn’t apply on Fork land. We were here long before the Empire, we’ll be here long after it falls.”
“So that you can murder children?”
Pytre, standing to her side, definitely picked up on that. He narrowed his eyes and was his left hand drifted to his long knife.
But his mother didn’t let him take any action. “As is our right, the four of you will be hung, one by one. We’ll begin with the mage, first.”
Cameron began to whimper through the gag in her mouth. Sari stood up, absolutely enraged. “You won’t lay a fucking finger on her!”
The bitch continued, “The High Chieftain will be second. Followed by the headhunter’s son. The One Who Left will be last.”
Finally, I was tired of this whole presentation. I let my pocket knife slide down my sleeve, downright amazed at the stupidity of the Fork family that they’d failed to take it from me not once, but twice. At this point, I was starting to wonder if it was intentional. I cut my hands free, then swung my arm back, driving the knife into the neck of the man behind me. I grabbed the sword he’d carried on his back and tossed my knife to Sari.
Almost immediately, I was rushed by several members of the family, each one carrying some sort of bladed weapon. A dodge to the left, a parry to the right, there were too many of them to fight. A five second glance at the gallows showed me that Pytre and the bitch had yet to enter the battle.
Arrows whizzed past my head, but not because of the bowmen firing them. I was just lucky enough to dodge them at the right time. I was also lucky enough to get a chance to take out another member of the family in a one-in-a-million slash across the neck that I hadn’t even been trying to do.
Briefly, I caught a glance at Sari and Trafus. The both of them had managed to get free, get weapons and were fighting their own cadre of Forks. For almost a second, I actually felt bad for Trafus, having to kill his own family. Then I decided I didn’t care, since said family had tried to kill me for no reason other than setting up a camp. Honestly, the fuckers had this coming.
I drove my borrowed sword into the chest of the one Trafus had said was named Joakeem. As I did, I felt a sharp pain from my leg, which shot through my body. The arrowhead! Dammit, I’d completely forgotten about it! Why the hell did it decide to hurt now? Whatever, I needed to push through.
Or, at least, I only needed to push through for a few more seconds. As if possessed by a demon, Trafus shouted, “PYTRE!” which caused all of us to stop. Lucky for me, too, as one of them had just about hit me in the face with his spear.
Everyone looked at Trafus, who was holding one of his brothers or cousins by the collar with one hand, and a battle axe in the other. He put the blade against his captive’s throat. “Come down here, Pytre!”
Pytre jumped down from the gallows and drew his comically large sword. “Are you challenging me, Trafus?”
Trafus let go of the family member. “That day, on the pirate ship.”
Pytre smiled. “Ah, that old chestnut.” He rested the sword on his shoulders and held onto it with both arms. “Still sore about that, are you?”
“Killing innocents wasn’t our mission.”
“Killing worthless creatures trying to worm their way into the Empire was our mission!”
“Is that how you justify it?”
Pytre took a step closer. “It’s not justification. Mother knew you wouldn’t finish the job, and sent me. What we were paid to do was kill those filthy Qinatans and their cargo. You were told it was a scouting trip, I was told everything.”
That sent Trafus into a blind rage I couldn’t even begin to understand. He moved faster than anything I’d ever seen, swinging that axe one-handed, left then right then back again. He was so angered I almost felt like he had real human feelings. Then again, if what Pytre was saying was true, Trafus had been lied to by his own family, who resented him for leaving when they’d proved themselves nothing but bloodthirsty monsters. The entire Fork family was such a cycle of hypocrisy that it almost intrigued me.
Trafus’ attacks, unfortunately, were nothing compared to Pytre’s dodging skills. For a man who looked like he was in his mid-fifties, Pytre was fast. Faster even than Trafus’ already inhuman attack speed. When one swing came within a hair’s breadth of basically cat scratching Pytre’s arm, he finally stopped playing around and brought his sword around, splitting the axe in two. A single kick and Trafus was then on his knees, at Pytre’s mercy.
“Mother looked for an excuse to kill you so long ago. I was actually ordered to leave you on the ship, but you figured out what the cargo was before I had a chance to sink the the damn thing without your knowledge.” He gripped the sword with both hands. “Instead, you left of your own free will, and came back to let me finish the job.”
Trafus threw away both halves of the axe. “Then do it already, you son of a bitch!”
I smirked. The hag scowled. Pytre looked pissed.
He brought up the sword to swing it into Trafus’ face. “Don’t talk that way ABOUT MY MOTHER, BASTARD!”
Just as I was certain I’d see the last of Trafus as that giant sword cleaved half his head clean off, he shouted, “Girl! Now!” Before Pytre even had a chance to swing, there were two arrows in his chest. Within a second, they were followed by two more. I looked around and saw that Sari had, at some point during this whole thing, stolen one of the bowmen’s weapons and positioned herself somewhere with a clear line of sight.
Pytre dropped the sword and then fell to his knees. Trafus stood up and picked the massive weapon up with ease. “Pytre Fork, Elisa Fork” - I assumed that was their mother - “I’m here to collect the bounty on you.” He turned his head only slightly to address his family. “Any of you who object, speak now or forever hold your tongues.”
A second or two passed. No one said anything. Nobody even moved.
“Good.”
There was one motion. It was swift and it was final. And when it was over, Pytre’s head rolled toward the gallows, where the hag looked down at it with a horrified look in her eyes.
I checked my blade when whichever asshole it was handed it back to me. “It better not have been used on fruit.”
“Who'd use a sword on fruit?” Cameron asked. She'd been talking almost non-stop since the gag had been taken out of her mouth. It was almost cute.
“Idiots,” I answered. I turned to Trafus. “You're not gonna chase us down and chop our heads off later, are you?”
He smirked. “Shame I won't collect on that particular bounty. Oh well, Pytre and Mother's bounty will have to do, I suppose. Not nearly as lucrative, but far more satisfying.”
Cameron asked, “Whut made ya decide ta change yer mind?”
Trafus looked down at her. “Had it not been for Cres distracting everyone, I'd never have had the chance to challenge Pytre.”
“I gave you the knife you used to cut yourself free,” I said, “you call that just a distraction?”
He half-grinned. “Of course.”
As she slung her bow and quiver over her shoulder, Sari walked up to us. “Okay, can we get our asses out of here now? I shot probably three of these guys in the knees, and I think they wanna pay me back double.”
Trafus laughed, then patted me on the shoulder. “Endawa is due west, should only take you another two days if you stop to rest at night.”
“And do we get like… horses, or anything?”
“The carriage and the dodo has been brought through, ready to take you wherever you need to go.”
I asked, “Can you two go get everything set up for us to leave?”
Sari nodded, but rolled her eyes. “Ugh… Those birds are weird!” She grabbed Cameron’s hand. “C’mon, let’s go get it all ready.”
I had one more thing to do before we left. Something had been bothering me since Momma Bitch was taken down, and I needed to understand it. I turned to Trafus. “So, you beheaded your brother and mother, and we killed at least a half dozen members of your family, why is everything all squared up?”
He sighed. “It’ll take time. I’m certain more than a few are disgusted with what’s happened.” He looked out on the members of his family, some of them even with those wives and children I’d been told about. “Mother kept the Fork family traditions going, and many were happy with that. Others, not so much, ready to move on and change things. I’ll let the ones who want to be mercenaries go on their way, I’ll let the ones who want to choose their lives go their way.”
I sighed. “Well, I guess since the results are you not killing us and us not getting hung by your mother, I can’t complain.” I slung my sword over my shoulder. “Don’t take this any other way than how I feel, Trafus, but we had goddamn never see each other again.”
He grabbed my arm as I turned to walk away. “Cres. Your father’s legacy lives on in you. I won’t be the last one to have recognized you as his son.”
“I said it before, I’m not my dad. It really doesn’t matter what he did, because I’m going to forge my own legacy.”
He nodded. “Save travels, Cres Sciorus.”
I nodded back. “And for you, Trafus Moor.”
The birds were slower than Trafus suggested they were, but that didn’t surprise me. I assumed he’d done what he could to calculate our distance based on the birds’ average speed, so I doubted we were losing any time or anything. Either way, the sun was just starting to rise over the horizon as we came out of the forest. The glow it cast upon the dark clouds above looked almost hypnotic with shades of purple and gold across the sky.
I rested comfortably in the back of the carriage, Cameron beside me and Sari at the front. The kid was pouring through some book she’d brought with her, likely a book of mage stuff. All three of us were quiet. I figured we just wanted some time to relax after that Fork nightmare. At least, that was how I wanted it. The girls might have felt differently.
“Whuh’s ‘at?” Cameron said, sitting up from her previous lying position. She set the book down and leaned a little forward.
“What’s what?” I asked, turning to look at what she was talking about.
“That!” she shrieked, pointing out at something.
That was when I saw it: A wolf. A very odd wolf, larger than normal. Its fur was an odd mixture of colors, mostly browns, grays and greens. Its eyes were dark orbs, completely lacking pupils. It was looking directly at Cameron, its gaze fixed on her in such a way that it looked almost like it recognized her.
She pulled back, a frightened look on her face. “Whuh’s tha thing doin’?”
I reached back and patted Sari on the shoulder. “Stop the birds.”
She groaned. “Ugh, why?”
“Just do it!”
She complied, very much under protest, and then turned around to see what it was I was telling her to stop the carriage for. When she saw it, her eyes widened in either shock or surprise. “What the hell is that?!”
Before either Cameron or I could answer (granted, we didn’t actually have an answer), the wolf had jumped forward and latched onto the carriage. It pulled itself up, growling the entire time. Cameron scrambled backward, over the front end of the carriage and between the dodo. I tried to grab for her before she fell out, but I missed my chance.
Instead, I pulled my knife, ready to jam it in the wolf’s side, but it jumped out of the carriage right after Cameron. I quickly followed it, but the two of them were between the stupid dodo, out of my reach. For the first time, I cursed Cameron being such a small kid.
Sari tried to grab her from her vantage point in the front seat of the carriage, but the dodo were getting riled up, rocking the carriage. She rolled backward, into the back of the carriage, away from Cameron.
I tried to dive under the dodo to pull the wolf away from the kid, but I stopped just before I dove. Rather than moving, I watched the wolf pull Cameron away from the excited dodo, grabbing her collar with its mouth. When she was far enough away from the birds, it let go of her and sat down, like a patient pet that had just happily found its owner for the first time in days.
“Whuh…?” the girl asked.
Then the wolf said, “You let yourself get blindsided and nearly ended up an amputee! You are a sorry excuse for a soldier, soldier!”
Sari sat up in the carriage. “Who said that?” she asked.
The wolf jumped back up into the carriage and pinned her down. “I did, woman! And if you aren’t paying attention to every edge of your surroundings, the enemy will! Kill! You!”
Cameron squealed, “Who are you?!” in such a high pitched tone I would have honestly preferred a whistle being blown in my ears.
The wolf sat down in the seat Sari had been sitting in. “My name is Artus, and I am your conduit!”
