Chapter 58: Chapter 57: Of Roadblocks

The first sign were the faint, pathetic howls echoing through the forest; weak neighs and gargling gasps that refused to die down after what had probably been hours of begging for help. Gabrielle and Lucrece exchanged a single look before each took their own weapon and a deep, shaky breath. The trail was full of footprints, marks of wheels and horseshoes, signs of struggle and a fight that ensued.

 

“There are more of them now.” The lancer commented, narrowing her eyes and kneeling by a set of prints. “Look at this… there are at least ten now.”

 

“How can you be sure?” Gabi looked down at the floor, trying to follow the blonde girl’s reasoning.

 

“The amount of prints, some of them are joining in from the woods. No doubt about it: this was an ambush.”

 

“They are getting smarter.”

 

“Scary thought… come, double time.”

 

Tiny pieces of wood and iron were scattered around the dirt trail, blades torn to pieces and thrown around… and then… the entire cart was laying on the side of the road, the doors wide open to show the carnage inside.

 

Bone gave and broke easily under the powerful claws of a bog walker. With slow, powerful clicks they worked through chunks of the meat of a victim, pinching and cutting pieces to then stuff them in their wriggling, hungering mouths and quickly masticate them into a bloody paste. Lucrece and Gabrielle fell completely silent when seeing the hulking beast on their way picking apart a horse, completely entranced by the feeling of throbbing live meat and blood flowing in its carapace.

 

One of the horses pulling the cart was now a grim memory splattered all over the road, clotty red blood mixing with the puddles of rainwater. The legs were nothing but broken pieces of bone now, but the torso would take much longer to clean. They were thorough with each victim, which usually meant it was easy to avoid them once they started eating: usually all they left were the pieces of bone they couldn’t shove into their mouths, and the stains of blood and other fluids they didn’t care to lick off the floor.

 

It didn’t matter how many times Lucrece had seen these scenes, it never got easier. Her whole body was completely paralyzed, shivering slightly from the sheer horror of the sight, the implications… Gabrielle silently counted the creatures in front of them: five, three inside of the cart and two outside, picking at the horse’s still twitching body.

 

“Do you…” She tried to ask, whispering as quietly as she could. “Do you think there are any survivors…?”

 

“If there are, they must be far away from here.” Lucrece took another shaky breath. “The rest of the bog bodies are probably chasing the people who got out. I don’t see armor here.”

 

“What do we do…?”

 

Luci’s eye darted from side to side, just trying to make sure she was correct. She saw the horse being devoured, she heard the bodies being mangled inside of the cart but didn’t dare to look deeper into it. Nothing here was left alive. A pragmatic part of her wondered if she could risk it and steal some of the luggage but—no. She knew it would be too much risk for too small a reward.

 

The witch clung harder to her sword, prepared to fight, but Lucrece simply shook her head and put down her weapon, trying to recover her calm.

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“Don’t. They won't attack while they are eating unless we get too close to them. Just keep walking.”

 

“What!?” Gabrielle had to cover her mouth for a second there to not outright yell at Lucrece. “But these people—”

 

“Are dead.” The lancer turned to stare at Gabi in the eye. “That’s it. There’s nothing we can do about that, fighting would just get us killed eventually too.”

 

“But what if we let them go and they attack another person. Wouldn’t you feel guilty?”

 

“Saints above.” Lucrece pinched the bridge of her nose. “Gabi, these people would not do the same for you. They wouldn’t even hesitate like you are now. When push comes to shove, none of them would move a finger for you.”

 

“That’s not a reason to not do it yourself.” The witch answered almost immediately, for she had this conversation before. She had talked about the lack of virtue of people, about their cruel and selfish nature; she had denounced it all to Baraqiel not too long ago. And his words still echoed in her mind. “I am a good witch. Even if people are selfish, I don’t need to be. If I can do something to prevent tragedy, I will.”

 

The lancer was at a loss for words, eye wide open and staring at the girl. Where did all this naivety come from? What happened to the girl of little words from before? Was she always this selfless?

 

“Someone has to do it, and if no one else will, then I shall.” Gabrielle put her foot down and raised her sword once again. “If you are going, go. I will catch up later.”

 

For a third time Lucrece had a chance to simply let go of her responsibilities and walk away, probably even safer than before having a meatshield causing a ruckus and calling attention to herself. Saying “sure” and hitting the trail would be so easy, so justified now! But then that image came back to her mind: Pietro. He would had done the same thing if he was in her shoes. He did the same thing when the world pushed them all so far. Lucrece knew how that tale ended…

 

With a long, frustrated groan, the lancer once again twirled her halberd and got in position, her eye getting that focused look.

 

“If we move fast enough we can get these  two at the same time. After that, we go back-to-back, understood?”

 

A smile curled on Gabrielle’s lips once again as she nodded.

 

“Thank you, Luci.”

 

“Bleeding saints, be quiet! Less thanking and more preparing!”

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