Adversaries Together (11 page)

Running at full speed, Roth saw the man who
had kicked him stop about forty feet from the melee. He cocked and
raised a small, hand-held crossbow. The next thing Roth saw was the
paladin stagger back, a dart protruding from his collarbone area on
his unarmored side. As the other two bandits closed in, the masked
man sent another dart into the upper arm of the paladin. Finally,
though, Roth was close enough to engage. The arbalist heard Roth
coming and spun to meet the new challenge, but he was too slow.
Roth came right at him, tucked to one-side rounding the man. As he
did so, he whipped his hand holding his push knife across the face
of the bowman. A muffled, wet gurgling sound arose as the man
collapsed to his knees reaching to his neck.

Roth kept his pace up, closing the distance
between himself and the remaining two assailants. Not more than
twenty feet away, one of the swordsmen turned his head when he
noticed the paladin glancing beyond them. Roth skidded to a stop,
instantly raising a throwing knife and sending it hurtling toward
the one who had turned. The blade lodged in his target’s shoulder
and Roth cursed himself for missing his mark. The strike was enough
to cause the other swordsman to retreat a few steps to turn to face
Roth, who only saw him for the briefest moment as the swordsman
stiffened and fell forward with two arrows firmly lodged in his
back. Roth saw the woman in the distance holding the bow.

The paladin knelt, his head hanging down and
his mace discarded. He reached up and grabbed the dart in his
shoulder yanking it free and tossing it aside. He paused and the
color seemed to drain from his face. As he reached to pull the
second dart from his arm, he seemed to hesitate. Roth saw the
paladin’s eyes flutter as he collapsed. The last swordsman now
wounded was caught between Roth and the woman, who held her bow up
arrow primed, as she came back to the scrum. The bandit crouched
slightly bringing his sword down; Roth’s throwing knife was lodged
in the bandit’s opposite shoulder, a thin ribbon of blood trickling
down his black leather. The bandit cut a wide crescent around Roth
backpedalling until he was with the hunched over masked man Roth
had first cut. He picked up his fallen comrade and the two
retreated back into the marsh. Roth held his push knife out to the
side and kept his other hand cocked with a throwing knife as he
turned ever so slightly to stay in line with the retreating
bandits.

The rain had stopped and the sun shone
glaringly bright down through the grey clouds. Roth could hear the
woman running toward but he kept his eyes fixed on the bandits
until they disappeared. When he was satisfied, they weren’t
returning he turned to face the paladin. Roth saw the paladin being
held by the woman. As he moved closer, he could see that though the
wounds were minor they were blackening. The darts must’ve been
laced with poison. Given how completely out of sorts the paladin
looked now, Roth had no doubt. He took another few steps towards
them and the woman suddenly stood, loaded an arrow, and set it
loose. Roth felt it whiz by his ear, nicking him.

“
Oow…wha?”

Roth grabbed the side of his head and shot a
bitter look at the woman.

“
Leave him be. Get out of
here.” She was younger than he had thought. Her wet chestnut hair
clung to her face, but Roth saw in her eyes dead seriousness. But
she wasn’t dressed like a rover or a soldier, her tunic was simple
but well made and its clasp around her neck sparkled in the light
like truesilver. If he was a paladin, Roth reasoned, and then she
could well be a pilgrim or maybe even an alm.

He held out his hand to try to settle her
down, “If you want him dead, by all means I will.” The woman
slightly lowered the bow and turned to the paladin with a look of
worry.

“
Look, I can patch him
up…enough to get him to some help…” Roth said calmly inching
closer.

“
Why should I trust you?”
The woman snapped back, pulling her string back, and stepping
towards him.

“
Are you serious?” Roth
pointed in the direction the men had run off.

“
How do I know you just
won’t…”

Roth shook his head dismissively, “Look, he
hasn’t time for debate. You want him to live, I help; you want him
to die, I don’t.”

Roth was stern, and she flinched
“Alright.”

He strode passed her and went to work. The
dart hadn’t gone deep—the handbow had enough draw to pierce the
mail the paladin wore but not enough to go farther—but the bleeding
was rather excessive, thin and fast. Roth reasoned the poison
must’ve had an anticoagulant.

“
His name is Goshen.” The
woman stood behind him sounding apologetic.

“
Of course it is…” Roth
mumbled, from a small pouch on his belt he pulled some gauze and
pressed it on the puncture wound, “Come here and hold this
hard.”

The woman did as she was told as Roth
shuffled off to the side. He dug into the black earth until he got
to a patch of thick clay like soil. He came back over to the
paladin, “Move” he yelled and slapped the grey clay on the wound
just a moment after the woman pulled away. Roth stood up and gazed
around, a damp silence blanketed the marsh.

“
He’s not going to last
long; we need to get him to a proper healer.” Roth shook his head
then turned to the woman, “We need to head to Anhra
Harbor.”

The woman didn’t look at Roth but rather at
Goshen, she nodded and in a whisper said, “That was where we were
heading.”

Roth bent down and undid the paladin’s armor
tossing it aside. He put another mash of clay on Goshen’s shoulder
wound. The woman stared at Roth, “What are you doing?”

Roth continued taking the paladin’s gear off,
“Are you going to carry his body?” he said contemptuously as he
lifted the man with gentleness that surprised the woman.

“
But…what if…”

“
If he lives he can buy new
armor, if he’s dead armor does nothing for him.”

Roth stood Goshen up, bent down, slid his
other arm under the paladin’s legs, paused, and then lifted. He
began walking towards his camp with the paladin in his arms; the
woman spoke forcefully, “Anhra isn’t that way.”

“
No, but my camp is, and I
do need my things.” Roth didn’t hesitate walking at a sure pace
even though he was burdened with the man’s body.

“
Stay close," he barked,
“We can’t afford any dawdling. And have that bow at the
ready.”

Getting back to his camp was more difficult
that he had anticipated. The paladin’s body was heavier and more
unruly to handle than he had suspected. Moreover, the woman was
nearly useless, unloading a constant stream of questions and
complaints. When they reached the camp, Roth set the paladin down
trying to prop him up against a slick rock. He reached down to pick
up a pack throwing it around his shoulder, “I’ve got to find some
material to make a litter.”

“
You’re leaving?” the woman
was incensed.

“
You have no idea what to
look for.”

“
Just tell me what to get.”
She shot back as though he were an idiot.

“
It’d take ages. Just let
me handle this.”

“
How do I know you’ll come
back, not just abandon us, not just go get your
friends?”

Roth tossed two smaller packs tied together
at her, which she caught almost as an afterthought scowling at him,
“Because you have my fucking gear.” He turned and went off into the
moor.

“
What if they come back?”
She called after him.

Roth rolled his eyes calling back, “Then
they’ll kill you both and take my gear.”

It didn’t take long for him to find a good
number of sticks that he could thatch together, but he didn’t trust
this moor wood. Soon he had a two-foot wide bundle bound on his
back as he dragged along his pack. He’d been gone less than an hour
and as he approached his campsite, he spied a thin strand of white
smoke rising. He cursed under his breath and picked up his
pace.

“
What’s this then?” he
barked as he came over the rise. The woman sat at the edge of the
fire pit looking at him with a blank expression.

“
What’s what?” She asked
clearly sick of him.

“
You don’t think anyone out
there would notice this?”

She shrugged, “If I was going to be killed
what would it matter.”

“
Light be damned, whatever
woman.” Roth dumped the bundle, nodded toward the paladin, “How is
he?”

“
It’s Kira.”

“
How is Kira?” Roth began
to unravel the bundle and started to thatch a litter for the
paladin.

“
I’m Kira.” She said
exasperated.

“
Both questions still
stand.” Roth ignored her.

“
I’m fine. Goshen has a
fever. He’s sweating profusely. I used your bandages to tend to
some of his other wounds.”

“
You went through my
things?” he seemed humored by this.

Kira shrugged, “They were mine if you didn’t
return.”

“
But I did.”

“
So then gloat.”

Roth smirked, this woman was getting under
his skin but he realized this was the most he had spoken to someone
in months.

“
How long before you’re
done?” Kira asked.

“
Not long. I’m more
concerned with how long it’ll take to get to Anhra.”

“
We can get to the
highroad, easily enough.” Kira turned and pointed off in the
distance.

“
Yeah, well, you see those
bandits are very likely between us and it.” Roth pointed to one of
the packs at Kira’s feet and gestured for her to give it him. He
fished out several thin leather strips.

“
So we have to trudge
through the lowlands?”

Roth nodded, holding a strip in his teeth. As
he pulled hard on it knotting a corner of the litter he said,
“We’ll parallel to the highroad, it’ll take longer but it’ll be
safer.”

“
How long can Goshen hold
out?”

“
Use that fire to boil some
water.” He nodded toward the other pack, “there’s a small kettle in
there and a pouch of yarrow. Wouldn’t hurt to give him some
tea.”

Kira started digging, “How long though?”

“
We’ll see.”

After another hour or so, the litter was
complete. He brought it over to Goshen and wiggled him onto it.
Using the remaining leather strips, he began to tie the paladin’s
hands and his feet to the litter.

“
Why do that?” Kira asked
as she poured the last of the tea on the fire and stomped it
out.

“
I don’t need to have him
roll off.” When he was done, Roth tossed his large pack and the
small satchels at Kira nodding for her to pick them up. The woman
glared at him but Roth ignored her and bent down to lift the
litter. He began to walk, dragging the paladin behind him. He
called back to Kira, “Maybe we’ll trade after a few
minutes.”

Kira grabbed the packs in disgust and
followed behind him, “You know we had gear and mounts on the
highroad. We could get them back.”

“
Feel free to take a hold
of this litter and head that way. I’ll gladly trade you burdens and
be on my way.”

“
You’d just let me go off
into the marsh alone?”

Roth sighed, “Why is speaking with you so
much more of a chore than dragging an unconscious body?”

In the distance, lightning strikes stabbed
into the sea. They hadn’t spoken for nearly two hours.

“
You never told me your
name.” Kira spoke as though Roth had grievously failed
her.

“
My mistake.” His shoulders
ached from the weight of the paladin

“
And you are?” Kira asked
obviously annoyed.

“
Avery Roth.”

“
It’s going to rain again,”
Kira stared ahead as Roth glanced behind him at her and saw a new
shadow of clouds coming over the mountains down to the
lowland.

“
Yeah…there’s always a
storm…”

Anhra sat at the mouth of the Tanas River,
which made the marsh plain between the Siracenes and Glen Mark.
Alongside Rautia, the city near the headwaters of the Tanas, Anhra
made up the major trade axis for the Lowlands. It was here that
caravans from the other cities of Silvincia like Elixem and the
capital Ardavass ended up before selling goods to Novostos Sea
merchants that shipped to the other Silvinician port towns—Bandra
in the east, Arderra to the west—and allied Adrenine cities along
the south shore of the Novostos. Anhra was growing quickly as the
best-equipped Silvincian port; the nation of the Seven Spires of
Ardavass was not only a nation of architectural wonders but also
fast reaching the status of empire.

Thanks to the Blockade of Rikonen, Anhra was
a boomtown, yet it lacked many of the more permanent and civil
institutions of the other cities under the sway of the Spires. It
was from Anhra that Silvincian soldiers would embark on their way
to the Blockade in the far western part of the sea. Thus, there was
a constant traffic of bodies and, of course, disease and crime.
Unlike Bandra with its golden pagodas steeped in the history of the
faith of the Light and always looking for a new tithe to impose, or
Arderra with its sensible tiny guilds regulating its small but
efficient port, Anhra was haphazardly constructed. It was dynamic
and fluid; a building standing one year could be abandoned or razed
the next. The harbor was unregulated, a holdover from when the town
was a free city.