Questing Sucks (Book 1) (29 page)

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Authors: Kevin Weinberg

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BOOK: Questing Sucks (Book 1)
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Rillith, Daniel, even Saerith, all looked on in astonishment as, one after the other, in what seemed to be five at a time, men’s lives were extinguished before them. It was disgusting, it was gruesome. It was something from the darkest nightmare, in the deepest corners of imagination.

It only took a few moments for the soldiers to catch on, and they looked around with pleading eyes, wondering which five would be next. Every two seconds another batch died. “Please!” one of the soldiers yelled at Saerina. “Please, stop this!”

“Oh poor creature born in strife, thou throat has come, to meet thy knife. May you wed death, make her mine wife, and find in her, what you couldn’t in life.”

The man’s face was ripped in two, dark red clumps of matter that Patrick hoped weren’t brains spilled from a hole in his face that only a single moment before housed his eyes. The screams only lasted a few moments, for only twenty seconds after the spell had been cast all were dead but Lelinas, standing in disbelief in the middle. The horses reared and ran away, not wishing to share the same fate as those that once had ridden them.

“W-what was that?” he panted. “My men, what have you done to my men?”

Only Saerina spoke, and Patrick suspected that Rillith, Daniel, and Saerith were too shocked to form words. If Saerina’s own brother could not believe what he’d seen, then it was truly something spectacular, yet awful.

Saerina walked away for a moment, picking her fancy clothing off of the ground, and dressing herself. She was now the only one not covered in blood. “So that’s why she did it,” Saerith gasped. “Look at us.”

With all the carnage that had just taken place, Patrick ignored something as trivial as bloodied clothing. Now that it had ended, he realized they were covered in it, drenched even. Patrick’s blue silk shirt was dyed a dark red.

“Do not stand there like idiots,” she commanded. “Brother, capture that man and blindfold him. We have many questions to ask him, and from this point forward he is allowed to see nothing, for obvious reasons. Patrick, if you would please find our Elven friend—whom I ask you to take care not to name—and make sure that he doesn’t return until this place has been cleaned up. I know what lies in his heart, and he is not ready to see this bloodshed. He may act like a brute sometimes, and he may even believe himself to be one. Yet, try and remember his upbringing. Never has he seen death like this. I wish to spare both him and the children from the sight of such overwhelming violence. Well, what are you standing around for? Go!”

Patrick didn’t even care that the princess of a foreign nation had just commanded him. After what Patrick had just seen the woman do, if she commanded him to lick her boot clean then he’d ask her which one.

Chapter 30: Separation Anxiety

 

Patrick hit the man again, harder this time. It brought him no pleasure, and each time the man cried out in pain it only made it harder to continue. Maybe he should have let Rillith handle this after all.

“I keep telling you!” Lelinas cried. Bloodied spit emptied from his bruised mouth. “I don’t know any of these things.”

Patrick did not like to harm a man this way, always preferring to kill them quickly and be done with it. He struggled to pull back his fist for another blow to the head, and hesitated.

You must be strong,
he told himself.
This is one of the men attacking your villages, invading a nation that never wronged him.

Patrick hit him again, and he sagged to the floor in Rillith’s powerful arms. “I want positions,” Patrick demanded. “I want to know goals, ambitions, anything. Give me something, my friend, or this will only get more painful.”

The stench was becoming an issue, the reek of burning flesh filling the air. Saerina had taken great care to make sure that nothing of this man’s scouting party remained intact, for fear of the man watching behind the scenes. They had blind-folded Lelinas. His eyes were now as useless as the men he’d commanded. Saerina assured them that the wicked-man watching from afar could not listen in, limited instead to sight.

Saerina had asked Patrick to find Sehn, and Patrick had in turn dispatched Daniel. This man, Lelinas, he threatened Patrick’s home, his people, and he’d not let any other take the responsibility that belonged to him.

“He tells us nothing for a reason,” Lelinas pleaded. “We know very little.”

“Then tell us the little you do know, or I will start by removing one of your legs. Keep in mind, the Elven woman from earlier has many spells at her disposal. Aside from the one she’ll use to cut your leg off, she can also tell any lie from truth.”

It was partly true. Saerina had no such spell of distinguishing fact from fiction, but her natural talent allowed her to do something very similar. Saerina could take one look at a person, and know instantly their demeanor, their mannerisms, and often what they’d say. Patrick found it fascinating. Though she obviously couldn’t read technical details off a person, such as army formations or their hidden agendas, she could as easily spot a lie as well as truth.

Each time the man denied having knowledge, she shook her head. Only this time, when Lelinas claimed to ‘know very little,’ she offered a curt nod.

“Well, start speaking, then.”

“We were sent here to scout your land, and find any gaps or openings, as well as any poorly defended farming villages. The plan is to occasionally split the army up into smaller raiding parties. We were told to keep a lookout for ones with a higher population of women than men. That way, in addition to restocking our food and supplies, there would be entertainment for the men.” Patrick looked over to Saerina, who nodded. He filled with an intense rage.

Against his own desire, Patrick hit the man again, this time harder than any before. A tooth flew out of his open mouth. He pulled back an arm to strike again—and was stopped. “Easy now, Patrick,” Saerith said. “We are not the same as these barbarians.”

Patrick turned to him. They were no longer formal with each other, not since the bond formed out of certainty of death. “You didn’t seem to feel that way when you slaughtered all those beggars in Koringrath.”

Saerith sighed. “They couldn’t live while knowing the information I’d sought after. Beggars tell all, to any with coin.” Saerith leaned closer to Lelinas. “There’s more you’re not telling us, I advise you to speak quickly.”

Lelinas choked, coughing up blood. “There’s only one other thing that I can think of. We’re supposed to be keeping an eye out for some Elf or another. All we got to go on is a description. He’s tall, with intense green eyes, muscular but not overly so, and rude.”

Patrick looked at Saerith, then Saerina. All three nodded. “Do you know who I am?” Patrick asked.

“A…a traveling merchant, yes?”

“I am Prince Patrick Vasilis, of the Kingdom of the seven-pillars, the one that must shed a tear for every citizen of mine you slaughter.”

The man trembled, tears dampening the cloth on his blindfold. “This man knows nothing else,” princess Saerina whispered. “There’s been enough pain, make it quick.”

Patrick drew his sword. “This is more than you deserve,” he said running the man through. The man shouted a final cry, quickly silenced. It was a fast death, merciful, and far more than the animal should’ve been granted.

“It is done, then,” Saerina said. Rillith released the man, letting his corpse fall to the ground.

The sound of hooves beating down on grass caused them to turn. Patrick frowned. “Daniel, why do you return alone? Where are Sehn, Nero, Cah’lia, and Rina?”

Daniel’s face reddened in shame. “I couldn’t find them, I’m sorry. Not only were they nowhere in sight, but the tracks were covered up, probably Cah’lia’s doing.”

“I don’t get it,” Rillith grunted. “We didn’t give them enough time to get so far away.”

“Don’t underestimate Cah’lia,” Saerina said. “She is an Elf like no other. She’s Resourceful, smart, and powerful. She probably hauled Sehn along by the point of his ear, while instructing the little Human girl on how to cover their tracks.”

No one bothered to dispute the claims. Saerina’s ability to read people was unrivaled. Daniel spun around, looking at their surroundings. “I think they’ll still be heading to the city of Hahl,” he said. “They’ll have to take a path through a mountain, at least based on the direction they fled. The only question is, which one?”

Patrick looked off into the distance, into the beautiful sunny valley of Hahl. There were six mountains. Not the largest in the valley, but all fairly majestic in their own rights. ”They’d have gone through the second one,” Patrick said.

“Agreed,” Daniel added, earning a nod from both Rillith and Saerith.

“So, I guess we’ll follow them through that one. All right, ready the wagon, and—”

“No!” Saerina interrupted. “They will not have gone that path.”

All four of them looked at her. “What do you mean?” Patrick asked. By now he knew better than to question her logic.

Saerina cleared her throat. “I’m sure that Cah’lia was able to take control of Sehn during the confusion, but by the time they’d gotten safely away, Sehn would have been quick to try and reassert command. Cah’lia probably told him they’d need to go through the second mountain as it was the easiest and safest path.”

“I see where this is going,” Patrick sighed. “No doubt, our Elven friend said something along the lines of.”

 

 

“Fuck your mountain choice, Cah’lia!” Sehn spat. “We’re going through that one, because I said so.”

Cah’lia was running low on patience with Sehn, back to his stubborn self. “Sehn, listen to me for a second. Not only is there an abundance of water and game, but the path is smooth, and we can pass through it in under three days.”

Cah’lia resisted the urge to sock him in the mouth, while he glared at her in defiance. “You dare challenge the Great Sehn to a mountain-selection war! I shall pick the mountain, and you shall impale yourself on the horn of a Cockalith!”

Rina tugged on Sehn’s arm, and he looked down at her and growled. “What do you want, Rina?”

“Rina thinks that Sehn needs to stop being silly and listen to Mistress Cah’lia. Rina thinks that all her decisions are good, and that all of Sehn’s are stupid.”

Nero shrieked at her, his voice high-pitched and frantic. “Rina! Did you just insult the Great Sehn? I won’t stand for it,” he said, his ears wobbling. “Here, Sehn, I managed to grab this before we left. I knew we’d need it.”

“Is that the scroll of insulting?” Sehn asked. “Good work, Nero.” He reached over to grab it, but Cah’lia was quicker. She snatched it from her brother’s fingers, and then both of them turned to stare at her in outrage.

“You can have this silly thing back when we get to Hahl,” she said. Cah’lia wanted to rip it in half, but she knew it meant a lot to the two boys in their own ridiculous way. Sehn didn’t keep his outrage for long. Acting out of character, he sat on the ground, sulking. “Let’s not go into any mountain, how about that?”

“Nero, Rina, can you two go play over there for a moment? I need to have a word alone with Sehn. Make sure you stay within my sight though, both of you.” She gave each of them a kiss on the cheek before sending them off. They were far enough away from the scouts, but she didn’t want to take any chances. If they left her sights for even a moment, she’d whip them both.

Sehn was sitting on the ground, his feet tucked in, with a look of misery on his face. “Sehn, what’s the matter?”

Sehn looked like he wanted to tell her something, his mouth moving but no words leaving his lips. Cah’lia understood. It was a pride thing. “Sehn, please, talk to me.”

“We…we shouldn’t have left them,” he whispered. “Not that I…not that I care about…Cah’lia, we left them to die.”

Cah’lia felt the urge to cry, and buried it immediately. Now, more than ever, she needed to be strong. She promised herself she’d not shed another tear, not until she’d done what she had to. Sehn needed her more than ever. There had been times before when she needed to take charge, times when she had to go against Sehn’s stupidity. Since leaving Koringrath, Sehn had been yielding more and more, and now it worried her. He’d never really been in charge, but prior to Koringrath he still believed himself to be. He’d gone from being commanding all of the time, to only partly. Looking at him now, sitting on the ground, with sadness he tried so very hard to keep buried, she knew that from this point on, she’d have to take control.

She sat on the ground across from him, folding in her legs. “You know why we had to,” she said. “They died to protect us from those men, to keep us alive.”

“I know that!” he snapped, his green eyes flaring for a moment, before once again returning to their previous state. It was so well-hidden that it was hard to notice, but deep down Cah’lia could see how much Sehn hurt.

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