Chapter 82: Chapter 82 – First Contact

It didn’t help my nerves that we had a week’s journey to even get to Exarch’s Bend first – before any of the real trouble started. The only information I had to chew on was what Xerces had handed me. Patrol patterns mainly. It was dry and clinical, and not the part of the job that I was worried about the most. I could sneak through anywhere short of an open field in broad daylight with enough effort.

Blackwake was the last place I wanted to go, really. While there had been no immediate reaction from me slaying Bell because they didn’t care about him, they’d still go to the length of reporting it to the local bailiff. There was a fifty percent chance that the bounty had withered out without a payment being offered. For low caste folks like us, justice didn’t come cheap or easily.

Until we entered the Bend and hunting became less practical, we stuck to using up the supplies we purchased for the trip. Tahar was a deft hand at cooking and could make even the dry and often tasteless raw materials into something worth eating. The low-grade ingredients still wouldn’t grant us many buffs of note.

“Why do we have to sneak through the Bend?” Cali asked as we picked up our belongings and prepared for the last day of trekking, “We passed through without issue before.”

“If they’re preparing for a new assault – they’re going to be keeping an eye out for ‘spies.’ Anyone walking through the Bend is going to have their belongings searched at the very least, what do you think they’ll do if they spot that we’re armed?”

“Assume we are merely travelling mercenaries and…”

“Arrest us. Or kill us.”

I hoisted my bag over my back and adjusted my balance. Now was the worst time to be a traveller. I couldn’t just throw Stigma away and pretend to be a normal wanderer now, could I? We’d have to sneak through the tangled trees of the Bend’s many forests, dodging bogs and water traps as we went.

The weather was favourable on that day. A blanket of fog had descended onto the landscape beyond, covering our approach to the Bend. I had carefully mapped out the route we were going to take, and when we were going to take it. I crossed my fingers and hoped that the patrol schedule had not changed between our initial departure and impending arrival.

Luckily, we had timed everything just right. Just as the sun started to set over the horizon, we passed by the makeshift wooden signpost that pointed towards Exarch’s Bend. You wouldn’t see many soldiers on this side of the line. I did spy a Feddie camp tucked between the trees next to the main road. None of them were going to stop us – Xerces had sent advanced word to them that we were passing by.

The friendly terrain of the elevated plains dipped downwards and became waterlogged within a distance of a single mile. The trees reached out with a wretched embrace, grabbing and tugging on anything they could find. I could already feel the cold water sneaking through the stitching of my boot.

“What a strange jungle,” Tahar whispered.

“It’s a swamp,” I explained, “Lots of water, not many animals.”

“And people… live here?”

“Somehow. Yes.”

The towns and villages relied heavily on food imports from the neighbouring states. There was a collection of unique materials and crops that could only be cultivated here in the Bend. Certain plants liked the boggy environment even if they weren’t much good for eating. Those cash crops were the main source of revenue into the area. It was good money, but the lack of living space and squalid conditions meant most could not stomach staying here for long. People who did make a home in the Bend were a special breed.

I had stuck around for over a year by the time the Kingdom invaded. There was a lot of work for rogues going around too. Everything would have been put on pause by the fighting and reorganisation efforts. Nothing crushes productivity like people getting lynched in the streets for no good reason. Ultimately it was a loss for Sull – thousands of lives exchanged for a small population centre. Those men and women could have been more valuable back home. The conclusion that war was destructive and nothing more was not widespread here. There was still glory and fame to be had in spending the lives of others.

We finally reached the first detour of our journey. Instead of passing into the first crossroad intersection and running into an outpost, we took a left and clambered up a small embankment. The tree branches were almost like a solid wall when you ran into them. I drew Stigma and slashed them down with ease. This was going to take a long time if I needed to keep doing that.

Tahar continued to observe the novel surroundings, “These trees are a fearful shape.”

“Indeed. So many existences crammed into a small space - fighting and grappling to reach what little sunlight filters down into the underbrush,” Cali waxed poetically. Was she trying to make a point? Because it sounded an awful lot like some of the conversations we’d had recently about how I made my living. No doubt the intent was to compare me to one of those trees. I could understand it though. Everyone turning on each other to get what little trickled down from above. That was life in a nutshell.

Stigma had tried to convince me that I didn’t need to respect that structure, that I could break free using brute strength – but I was a long way off of being able to do that. A group of soldiers still posed a threat to me, how the hell was I going to take on the world and come out on top? Becoming a revolutionary could wait. The first priority on my mind was gathering enough souls to stop worrying about my impending death. Along similar lines, receiving the full payment for this job would mean I could stop worrying about funding my excursions for a very long time and focus my full energy on killing powerful creatures to stack levels and souls.

The terrain was tough. The roots of the trees were everywhere I stepped, and beneath them lay trenches filled with mud and water. I knew that dropping my boot into one of them would doom my feet to a chilly fate – so I did everything in my power to avoid doing so. Tahar displayed some incredible agility and upper body strength, leaping from root to root and using her powerful claws to dig into the surrounding bark and make handholds for herself. Cali was the total opposite, she struggled to navigate in her platformed boots while handling her halberd.

Eventually we had to stop and let her catch up. She panted heavily and almost frowned, “This isn’t working.” She reached into her bag and retrieved some bandages, tearing and tying them into a makeshift harness. She tied both ends of it to the shaft of the halberd and rotated it around until it rested against her back like a gigantic boat mast. It looked silly, but it did keep it out of the way so she could steady herself.

We spent nearly two hours navigating through the web. Our progress halted by the appearance of a dirt and plank road running across our path.

“Stay here, I’ll check it out.”

I approached with caution and stood at the apex of another artificial banking. I checked both sides of the road, watching it disappear off into the fog to god knows where. I settled down and waited, and waited and waited. I was listening for any sounds from people lurking in wait beyond my range of vision. Satisfied that we were safe, I waved Tahar and Cali over and slid down onto the path with a thud.

“Good, it looks like there’s nobody here – just like Xerces said,” I said under my breath. The next leg of the journey would take us further along this pathway and closer to one of the smaller hamlets hiding away between the trees.

“Why can’t we just kill them?” Stigma moaned.

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“Because if somebody doesn’t come back from patrol, they’ll know about it; and then the security around Forester will get even tighter.” Stigma’s bloodlust was so overpowering that it blinded her to even simple cause and effect.

As we walked to our next stop, the signs of enemy patrols became clear. The next signpost I saw had been marked with a red cloth. Whoever was on duty needed a hand keeping their directions straight. Another sight of interest was a wheeled wagon, left abandoned and empty in a nearby ditch. They must have learnt the hard way that this wasn’t cart territory.

None of the intense fighting had come through here. I hoped that the Sull troops had the faint kindness to go give their compatriots a proper burial, instead of leaving them to rot in an open field for months on end. I made my living amongst those bodies – but that didn’t mean I scorned the people whom I was robbing. I didn’t know anything about them.

I was so caught up in my thoughts that the people walking the opposite way appeared out of nowhere. My breath hitched. Shit. They were the exact patrol that I was trying to dodge! And we’d blundered right into them. Of all the rotten luck. I didn’t have time to have the first word. Three men, the officer at the head held out his palm in a weak attempt at blocking our path.

“Halt! What is your business here strangers?”

Okay, he had given me a lifeline by talking first.

I put myself into acting mode and furrowed my brow, “Strangers? I’ve been a resident of the Bend for far longer than you have. What business do I have walking the path to return to my home? What a silly question.”

Mock indignation always worked well on people, he was immediately put on the back foot by my overly simplistic defence. This wasn’t a statement that you could realistically poke holes in. He would either back down or shift the focus of the conversation to try and fluster me.

“For that matter, you lot are armed to the teeth. What do you need all of these weapons for?”

Exactly as I predicted, “I don’t recall owning a weapon being illegal, sire. It’s my god's given right to defend myself, it is.”

He sighed and adjusted the tin pot he called a helmet, “Defending yourself? You have the armour of a mercenary, and two curious followers besides.”

“Yes, we are an eclectic party indeed. I do enjoy my share of interesting company. We work together.”

“Doing what?”

“Mercenary work, of course. Helping the downtrodden and all that.”

His eyes narrowed, “You best be careful lad. We’re on the lookout for suspicious characters – never know when those Federation bastards are playing games with us.” He gripped the hilt of his short sword like a wilting flower. I could see him shaking in nervous anticipation of some kind of fight.

“Believe me sire, if you told your superiors that you saw a mercenary, an Ashmorn and a towering giant of a woman walk by, they’d believe it to be nothing more than the start of a joke. What variety of sabotage party would that be?”

“So, you know of the fighting?” He was grasping for something to go on here.

“I have eyes and I have ears. Who doesn’t?”

The two men behind him didn’t seem to find this so exciting. The tallest of the trio placed a hand on his commanding officer’s shoulder and pulled him back slightly, “Sir. They don’t appear to be Federation soldiers.”

“Like I said, they could be paid help!”

He insisted, “But the lieutenant said that we shouldn’t be harassing folk on the roads.” A stroke of luck for once in my life. We were too visibly well off to be perceived a low-level rogues, and local leadership was slackening the noose to make their jobs easier.

The officer backed down upon remembering that titbit of information. He pointed an accusatory finger at my face, “Don’t you go doing anything dangerous. I’ve got your apperance in my memory now. We’ll hunt you down like a dog and make sure you pay.”

I smiled just to rub it in, “Oh - of course Sire. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

He pushed past me like a school kid in a corridor. The two soldiers bowed apologetically and hurried after him. Even though we had gotten away with it for the most part, that wasn’t good. I didn’t want any witnesses before we got to Blackwake. At least we didn’t have to start a fight to get rid of them.

“Alright. I better focus so that doesn’t happen again…”

“I had no idea you could be so polite, Ren,” Cali tittered.

If by ‘polite’ she meant ‘immensely petty,’ then she was right.

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