To my surprise, things went well for the remainder of the journey. We arrived at a cabin made of stone, with thick wooden doors and narrow windows. It looked neglected, but there were signs that it was used sporadically by travelers looking for shelter. We entered and barred the door.
It was a single chilly room that smelled of damp wood and mold. The only furniture was three beds with hay mattresses that under normal circumstances should have been thrown away and replaced.
The only redeeming feature was a small fireplace. The last visitor had left some wood, so we lit a discreet fire to keep us warm.
Our food ... and I am saying ‘food’ by the broadest of the definitions ... was some travel rations of hard cheese and dry biscuits, chosen due to compactness and durability, and absolutely not due to taste. If it was not night, I could try to forage something nearby to put together an improvised meal, but even then, it would be a waste because I was so nervous that I had no hunger, and Uther was not particularly picky and didn’t mind the blandness of the rations.
I tried to sleep, but I was just too edgy and kept awaking at any random noise. I gave up shortly before sunrise, decided to prepare tea and wait out. We only carried essential supplies and tea leaves, at least to me, was definitively in that category.
“Woke already?” Uther inquired as he sat up, still drowsy.
“Sorry if I woke you up.” I offered him a metal mug with tea, which he accepted. “Sometimes I just get up early if I am having trouble sleeping; it is better than stay in bed staring at the ceiling.”
Uther sipped the tea and came to my side.
“Are you alright?” He asked with some concern. “Yesterday was hard for you.”
“My arm is bothering me, but not as much as I thought it would, maybe the sprain was not that serious.”
“This is good, but how are you holding up.”
“I’m fine. That is not the first time we travel to unwelcoming places like this, so it is nothing.” I said in a voice that lacked any credibility.
“And the truth?”
I sighed and drank a big sip of tea.
“I am just a little worried that I will need to talk my way into an army of monsters, and we already used our only healing potion. But maybe that is not such a big of a deal because, if things don’t work out, one healing potion won’t matter.” I tried to sound good humored, but my acting skills only went so far.
“This entire plan is very courageous of you. You can save the life of hundreds.” Uther attempted to cheer me up.
“I don’t feel courageous at the slightest; I am so afraid that I feel like I might just pass out.” The idea of risking your life to save others is very enticing when you are not actually doing it. What if my power just stopped working? After almost losing my leg and being just a few hours away from going unarmed into a den of monsters, my altruism was at an all-time low.
But it was too late to back down. I intended to force myself to put one foot in front of the other until that was over, and then I would never suggest anything like that again.
If I survived, I mean.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Gift...” Uther turned to me dead serious. “If things go wrong, I want you to run away as fast as you can back to our encampment. You know what? Scratch that. I don’t ‘want’ you to run away, I am ordering you to. I will buy as much time as I can, but don’t count on it being much.”
I nodded affirmatively. The probability that I would be able to outrun anything that would be chasing me was nonexistent, but even so I became a little calmer after he said that.
It always felt strange to me how promptly Uther would put himself in harm's way to protect someone that was basically his property. The life of a prince was obviously much more valuable than the life of a slave, but it was not my place to correct him.
***
We left the cabin as soon as there was enough light for us to walk and went at good speed until late afternoon. It was a tiring trip, especially due to my elbow that was still hurting, but without major incidents.
As we got closer to the settlement, my apprehension started to grow unbearable. Any gush of wind, any bird taking flight, any insect noise, made my hearth jump. What made those scares worse was the knowledge that soon it would be a real monster.
It happened just before dusk.
We had started to notice overgrown ruins for some time now, broken columns and remains of walls buried under roots, dirt, and moss. In the middle of what should have been a town square, we found an orc hunting party.
They detected us moments before we detected them, so the first exchange we had was a couple of spears flying in Uther’s direction. One missed the mark by a safe distance and the other was deflected by a strike of Uther’s shield with such contempt that looked like he bitch-slapped it.
A dubious blessing of being female in this situation was that they’d try to capture me before resorting to lethal force. I used that opening to my advantage. I jumped in front of Uther, raised hands, and shouted:
“Wait! Wait! We came here to talk. We are the emissaries from Her Majesty, Queen Julya Dimetres of Central.”
They looked among themselves and cautiously lowered their weapons.
“Your voice… You talk like the Gods. Emissary, our boss will want to see you.” Said one of the orcs, a particular muscular one that was probably the commander of that hunting party. “But who’s he?” He pointed his spear at Uther, wary.
I was about to do the standard introduction, but Uther interrupted me before I started.
“Tell them I am your bodyguard, here you are the high rank one.”
He was right; this might avoid unnecessary confusion, but we should have discussed this change of roles beforehand! I hated that ‘just go along and improvise’ approach that Uther had about… well, everything, basically.
“He is my bodyguard.” I said, trying to appear unfazed at the same time my heart was about to burst from my ribcage.
The orc looked at Uther like he was evaluating him, then nodded and continued: “Got it. We’ll take you to our camp, just need a bit to grab our catch first.”
The village was less than an hour away. It was an old city, adjacent to a river that flowed into Silver Lake. I recognized the architecture as a construction from the Elders, with walls and some buildings still standing, though overgrown by the forest.
We entered the city through a badly repaired gate and as I walked, I began to get a clearer picture of the situation.
An army of monsters 3 thousand strong…
That was something that would chill the blood of even the most seasoned soldier, but reality was much less impressive.
The ragtag assortment of monsters was composed mainly of orcs and goblins, with some gnolls and ogres. They had a disproportionately high number of females, and most did not look like the fighting sort. Among the males and warrior females, many were wounded, bearing ugly scars and even mutilations. I estimated no more than 400 were in fighting condition. That was a respectable force, enough to raze any city smaller than a regional capital, but it was far from the threat Allan depicted.
It felt a little off. Most of the information Allan gave Uther was very precise, so someone must have come close to this village to gather that information, enough to get a good idea of their capabilities. Why had this settlement’s fighting power been so exaggerated?
That village did not have any kind of idealistic coexistence; it was an order created by violence and fear. The strong were well-fed and the weak emaciated. There were workers with whip marks and even a corpse, pummeled beyond recognition, forgotten in a corner. Even so, the simple fact that so many wounded were still alive showed they had at least some form of kindness and cooperation.
We walked under eyes filled with curiosity and hatred until we arrived at a partially collapsed palace, the consequence of a massive tree that grew inside it. I gulped and walked in the direction of the building, just wanting to meet their leader, resolve everything and get the hell out of that place.
***
