An Unlikely Bride 9

With a sullen expression the elf looked at the guards, then at the lizards, and finally back to Thonvar.

"They're my property!"

Slaves were not the way of his own folk, not usually at least, but among the other northerners they weren't so uncommon and some clans kept a great many taken from raids and war. Holds in the Reach had no use for mouths to feed that couldn't be expected to ride and do battle, the bands of nomads that wandered the vast grasslands had even less use for them. They were not unwelcome, however, but it was an alien practice Thonvar was not so familiar with.

Property or not, the mage was neglectful in his duties.

"Our ways must be strange to you, but letting them wander to be abused by the greedy and drunk is shameful. They are yours only in word, and the claim of a knife-ear who hides a portal under a town of good folk is not to be trusted."

"... Portal? What portal?" he snapped with fury in his eyes. "You know of no such thing, I won't be talked to like this by a--"

Thonvar gripped his sword tight, holding it slightly off to the side it so all could see it. "Watch your tongue, elf. You have seen what I do when my honor is challenged, I am no liar and it was I who paid for the cork in that demonic bottle you've opened in your cellar."

"Put in hole of whispers, get this many coin," the giant rumbled, holding out it's fingers and thumb.

"Shut up you..." the mage trailed off and gained a look of pure malice. "Guild business is not the concern of reachfolk, but this is a matter I must attend to. I won't go empty-handed, pay for--"

A gold coin shimmered as it flew before the elf snatched it out of the air.

"That is not enough!" he cried, fuming with a clenched fist.

A copper was flicked in his direction, one of the other mages caught it. "There. A copper for the kobold."

"... Do you know who I am!? Do you have any idea of the power, the influence--"

"I don't care, our business is done," he muttered as he moved to walk off.

"Yes, we all saw the deal done, so take your lizards and go," a guard warned with a finger stabbed in the direction of the gate. "I don't want to see you back here again any time soon, if I do I'll throw you in a cell. You, mage, the jarl will want a word with you."

"Hmph! A word we shall have quite soon, I have some most important ..."

Words faded as Thonvar's heart pounded back into his ears, acid in the back of his mouth reminded him of the heavy knot in his gut that threatened to leap out. He almost fought a sorcerer, a real one, if he was lucky he wouldn't be cursed or haunted by something that came from that portal. Evil was said to latch onto anger, and that knife-ear was furious! Too bad they didn't get any soap, he would need to cleanse himself somehow.

Salt water. Salt was said to ward off darkness.

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Others in the camp weren't let into town so easily, after some promises only the humans and elves were allowed access and due to the incident only without weapons. He didn't care, they had no right to be angry. There would be other towns they would waste their time at and slow everyone down, he was just glad that the bloodshed had been kept to a minimum. Fighting over something so foolish! This is why alcohol was not allowed to be consumed without supervision in his homeland, those men might have been good if the Trickster hadn't of corrupted their merriment. Still, he did not regret his actions, by all rights he defended his own life and he walked out still on the right side of the law.

Had he acted on his first impulse he might have still gotten away with it, Anza was still his wife after all, most would have understood his actions. He even did an honorable thing by paying for the dead and wounded, if they chased after him he would be within his rights to send them to the next world.

Such thoughts were not appropriate, he sighed to himself as his wife gently scrubbed his back with heavy brine. At his insistence she allowed herself to be cleansed as well, but she made no secret at how little she enjoyed the process. This was for the best, they would be untouchable by demonic taint for three days and by that time they would be very far away. Perhaps they should have done it sooner, the dream they hadn't discussed still loomed over his head and the incident in the forest with the risen dead... No, no thoughts of that.

"Husband never go bad," she giggled, scrubbing his neck.

He almost didn't get the joke, but it did make him chuckle when he figured it out. "Salted pork for the road."

"Husband give Anza taste?" she teased, kissing his bare chest.

As enticing as that sounded, he would have to resist her for awhile. "Husband would rather ask why his wife got involved like that. They could have killed you."

"Thonvar strong, kill northman, protect Anza."

"What if I died?"

She looked squarely at him, he wasn't sure if she was upset or shocked at first. Then she blinked slowly and finally, with visible consideration for the thought, looked away in silence. Did he mean to shame her? Perhaps, he wasn't sure. From what he had come to understand though, her temper often got the best of her and she was not above foolish things in her anger. Lapses of judgement were fine if occasional, expected even, but with her it seemed to be a poor habit that she had never been broken of.

"Anza sorry," she finally sighed, still looking away. "Not think, big dummy."

Deciding they were done he leaned forward to slip the loincloth under him, eager to hide himself from the chilly air. Thankfully she helped, getting his clothes ready to just slip over him with the tunic first, then leggings, and finally his sturdy boots for the walk back. Their used water was neatly poured in a wide arc before backing away, he opted to carry both her and the basin instead of explaining the process and possibly breaking the magic. Their goal was to confuse the evils, leave them licking the air around the water as the bubbles popped and hissed, no words meant the evil could not hear them and could not find entrance in open mouths.

He knew she thought it was odd, but kobolds had their own ways of warding evil. Khezde had fretted and smeared herself in a salve of her own recipe, it smelled like alcohol and dirt, the patterns on her bare scales seemed like odd-shaped runes to him.

They walked for a ways until they came upon the wagons again, taking the longest path the could while still being reasonable about the time. Kobolds milled around here and there, he saw Ruran and gave the spellsword a nod, but the real attraction and object of everyone's attention was the three giant lizards and the kobold. She still had the hock of dried sausage from before, holding onto it fearfully as the other kobold females spoke to her in their tongue without success.

She didn't even seem to understand them.

"Aye, they've been at it since you left," Ruran muttered before raising his tankard up for a drink. "Knows about mages, where--"

"A wizard owned her, I bought her for a copper."

Ruran glanced at him with a puzzled expression. "A copper? What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing."

"Then I reckon you picked up those sebekas much the same then," the spellsword replied with a bit of amusement in his voice. "Probably paid a silver for the lot."

"I threw a gold coin at the knife-ear and he caught it and kept it, perhaps he should have stayed in the south if he did not know how to barter."

With a shrug the man finished his drink. "Aye, you walked out fine. Saw your other stuff, some nice javelins. That driver of yours thought they're spears for his, size is about right."

Thonvar chuckled and nodded, but said nothing else as they split up to go in completely different directions. Approaching their wagon was oddly the last thing he wanted to do, he felt a growing burden as they grew nearer and nearer until it was deeply uncomfortable to bear. Sebekas, that was what they were called, distinctly different from the other lizardfolk he had seen in the town. They were regal, graceful beings that looked as if they belonged in association with the mages with their well-manicured appearance and tasteful clothing. These were... Lower class creatures. They reminded him of kobolds without the ambition, all three of them stared with somewhat excited and expectant looks in their eyes.

Slaves waiting for their new master to give an order.

Perhaps it would be wiser to consider them bondsmen, at least then their lack of freedom would mean something. Since he still had his sword he decided to use it, drawing the blade and approaching the lizards.

Their eyes dropped and they looked afraid.

He didn't raise it. "Kneel before me, you three. You too, kobold."

With wide eyes they nodded and slid off their seats, falling in front of him. When the kobold hesitated he flicked the sword toward the spot he wanted, an impatient glare was just enough motivation for her to clumsily scramble to the spot. For a brief moment he wondered what they might be thinking, what they were feeling, but he guessed it had something to do with missing heads. Best to get on with it, he thought.

"You're free to go if you like, stand up and leave now if that is your choice. If you wish to stay I will allow it, but only if you pledge your loyalty to me as a bondsman."

Big, reptilian eyes blinked slowly as they considered the proposition. He wondered if they even understood it, to them it might have sounded exactly like their previous life. Maybe that's what they wanted?

When nobody moved he raised the sword and began tapping each creature on the top of their head twice. "So be it. I was raised in the Reach, by our laws you each shall be mine for no less than twenty years. I have no marks to give you yet, but we will see to that soon. Until then you will do as I say and promise never to bring dishonor on me or my family, am I understood?"

Only two sheepish nods, one kobold.

"Did you hear?" he asked as she sheathed the sword. "Am I understood?"

One extra nod, the smaller of the two adult lizards fidgeted and looked down in shame.

"What of my words is hard for you?" Thonvar asked, folding his arms. "Tell me."

"How to know if dishonor is bring?" it asked, still looking down. "Not know this."

"You will learn."

"Yes, master," it grunted, "will learn."

Rolling his eyes Thonvar motioned them to stand and stepped back. "Do not call me master, call me sir if you like, but Thonvar is good enough for me. Worship I do not need, your loyalty is all that is necessary."

"Yes, Thonvar sir, we be loyal," it murmured, nodding with slow, emphatic bobs of it's head. "What does mast-- Thonvar want us for?"

"For now?" he asked, not entirely sure what they could do. "For now you two, since you are so large, shall ask the other wagons if they need strong backs for hard work."

They hesitated and looked at the adolescent lizard.

"He will be safe, he can--"

Khezde sprang off her log seat and reassuringly said, "not worry, old Khezde know hatchlings, have work for young scale-kin."

A happy smile came over Thonvar. "Good. We must be ready for tomorrow, I hope we leave in the morning's dawn, so let us not give the elves any excuse to wait. I smell winter on the wind, we must be prepared for it."

They nodded, he could see they believed his words as if he were a wise sage. Perhaps in that way he was, a life spent with a nose to the east, days of summer counted one by one until they were no more and replaced by days of worry. He was just a man and just interested in getting to his new home, their confidence in him was alien and confusing. He understood their flocking to his protection, but his leadership?

A shake of his head cleared the thought, he moved aside to let his sebeka minions go about their tasks.

All the while his wife had been waiting, eager to dote on the little kobold along with the other females that had gathered. His little servant did not seem so happy about that, she still looked afraid and confused, still holding that damned sausage with a two-handed iron grip. Was she going to strike down the throng of tittering and cooing females? He wasn't so sure.

"Little one, what is your name?" he finally asked, allowing a smile when she looked up. "You do have a name, don't you?"

Her lower lip pouted out. "Master call Rat."

"Rat? That's not a name."

Water formed in her eyes, he wondered what the girl was hiding from him. Causing her pain and shame was not something he wanted, he almost had to look away from those big, gray-green eyes that softened his heart. Soft hearts made one vulnerable, let foolishness from emotion seep in, he clenched his jaw as he imagined peeling the knife-ear's face off with his fingers through that pointy nose. That chapter of his life was done, after moving on he wouldn't likely ever come back to see the town again.

No, her time as an abused pet was done. This little whelp was his now.

"You have no name, so I will give you a name. Do you like Runa? Say it now, feel it, this is how the wind will know you."

She blinked and looked down, the new name whispered with careful reverence for it's hidden power. Two sounds were ideal for a name in his mind, she tested each as if they were a puzzle to be solved. Indeed it was, names were sacred for a people who had no instrument besides the horn; their music was composed of stomping, of chanting, singing, pounded fist to chest, primal grunts of animal Men that resounded with a vibration that carried on to the sky. When they addressed each other it was never hushed and always with a proud chest because the people of the Reach had honor, they never had reason to hide or cower.

He decided then that this little kobold would be raised as one and, when she was worthy, he might even adopt her if she so wished. Of course she would inherit nothing besides his place among the kobolds, so perhaps it wouldn't be so bad.

"Does it sound like a name you would like?" he asked.

Runa looked up and nodded, finally smiling.

"How old are you?"

"This manys," she said, holding up two full hands. Eight years old.

"Who raised you?"

"Master."

He scowled. "No kobold?"

All she could do was shake her head, he didn't press the matter further. "So be it then. You are bonded to me, but I shall raise you as a daughter of the Reach. Your first lesson, young Runa, is to never let a soul challenge your good name or your honor, do you understand me? If another person calls you rat, teach them the hard lesson they have earned. This is our way, it is your way now."

She gulped and nodded.

"Say it. We speak with pride because we have honor, we have no reason to mince words."

"Yes, Thonvar," she mumbled as she forced herself to look up at him. "Runa understand."

He had to smile, she was rather cute. Of course that made his next duty even harder, he would need to have a hard heart to raise a child that had been taught wrong by dishonorable elves and the magic-using degenerates. Who knew what sick things she had to do? Fury licked the back of his neck and put her wicked lips to his ear, but he ignored the malicious desires and put them in another place for the time being. Such foolishness had no place in his head, there was work to be done.

"Little girls do not run around half-naked so they can catch a chill," he explained as he withdrew a few coppers from his sack of coins, "your first chore is to take these and go find some clothes. If you feel you're being cheated, you come tell me."

Runa nodded and scurried away, forgetting to use her tiny voice. That was the kobold's way of thought, he had seen that they had a way of developing a singular focus and all other things would fall away. A particularly dumb one could probably be tricked to hand-deliver a rock to the other end of Anor, Thonvar wouldn't be surprised if the little idiot actually succeeded too.

Anza smiled up at him, patting the log next to her. "Thonvar good northman," she said as he sat down, giggling to herself. "Anza teach Runa with husband, give speak of kobold."

"I wonder where he found her if she never had parents, I doubt he even owned her."

An unanswerable question for sure, he decided not to dwell on it and just enjoy the moment with his wife.

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A hard day's work gave him perspective on their situation, on how far they had yet to go and how far they had come. Night fell on them faster than he thought and his lizards would need places to sleep, a thought that hadn't crossed his mind when he was in his high-functioning state of rage and disgust. Fortunately they had something of a solution, simply gathering up needles into a big pile to burrow into and make an odd nest. Not so much like the little reptiles that darted between the rocks, they seemed capable in the cold as long as they were bundled up.

Somewhat like kobolds, but definitely less resilient against winter's savage bite. They also seemed to enjoy vegetables a bit more than meats, but they happily ate whatever he gave them. Another thing he had discovered, much to his surprise despite his suspicions, was the big one was actually a female after all. That smaller adult was her mate, a male, and he had sired her daughter almost seven years ago when they were still... wherever they originally lived. Apparently the mage moved quite often, but the female was definitely the wizard's slave and explained she had once been proud and free.

All of this was revealed once it was made clear that she could draw in the dirt, words were supplemented by rather descriptive scribbles and demonstrations. Tribe lands to the south, swampy groves that seemed so alien to him, were always in contention among her people much like Rangvaal's denizens squabbled over petty things.

She liked to draw the maps, it sparked a fire he hadn't seen in the burly lizard huntress.

Bondsmen were not thralls, they had rights and a certain amount of say, but also a certain degree of responsibility that came with their duties. That sturdy spear he had thrown so hard and so far, saving a certain spellsword from an early death, became his gift to the sebeka that he passed over with a quiet smile. Wide eyed and trembling, she took it carefully and held it at arm's length to find it's balance before giving it a single-handed twirl as she cackled happily.

"How does a huntress use her spear?" he asked, stepping back as she passed the spinning weapon from hand to hand. "You seem to know a few tricks with it."

"Throw?" she asked, stopping it hard with a firm hand. "Throw tree?"

"It's yours to keep, throw it if you like."

For the first time he saw her full spread of teeth as she grinned, the green giant stepped back and tossed the spear up before catching it smoothly. He didn't have time to remark, with incredible grace she arched her back and gave it a mighty burst of hot, precise effort that sent it whistling past him and into the trunk of a mighty wooden sentinel.

Even from that far back he could tell it was sunk!

Worry about getting it out was misplaced, she gripped the head with a firm fist and yanked it out with a gentle grunt.

"Good. Tomorrow we can hunt, but it would be unwise to leave without knowing your name first. Do your people have names?"

She laughed and planted the shaft of her spear in the dirt. "Mage master call many name, not nice name. Thonvar call this one Agziqoh. Mate name Bothik, little one name Tezga."

"I may forget these names," he warned, extending an arm out to the huntress. "Make sure I don't."

Agziqoh nodded slowly. "Call Agzi if want?"

Thonvar smiled when she shook his offered hand. "Alright, Agzi."

She flashed a toothy grin and he stepped away, letting the big brute spend time with her little family. Going his own way, he rounded the corner to see that he didn't need to figure out a solution for Runa; Khezde and Anza were busy making the little kobold a bed next to Kix. Relief washed over him and he sighed, it felt good releasing tension he didn't know he had been carrying! His own little sanctuary would be preserved, and he would have access to his very desirable wife.

By the time she crawled into the wagon he was undressed and waiting, she fell into his embrace with a passion that matched his own furious need.

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Movement woke him. His hand reached for his sword.

Then he saw green, a big patch of nude scales, he used the sword to push the curtain aside slightly to see what was going on.

Either apparently somebody had told Agziqoh about his bathing habits or the knife-ear demanded cleanliness, because she had taken his was basin and rag for a morning scrub. That was his first good look at her and saw that there was little doubt to her femininity, as she worked the brush over the tough, jade-hued hide her ample breasts jiggled and swayed. They weren't pronounced in a conventional sense, but since she was so big it was understandable that she would be endowed accordingly. Perhaps he just had a thing for scales that he never knew about, but he found himself blushing at the racy thoughts that came to him.

A good thing she didn't catch him, or else it would have been awkward. An even better thing that his lovely, unconventional and exotic wife didn't see him spying on another female. Thonvar knew without her explaining it that the kobold was fiercely possessive of him, she was still very reluctant to see him wander too far.

Well it could be worse, he thought, she could always hate him.

Before she stirred too much he reached down and took a handful of her glorious backside and kissed the nape of her neck, chuckling as she wiggled herself back at him.

"Husband want Anza," she moaned, flicking her tail against the part she had conquered during the night. "Not have."

"Oh, and why wouldn't I?" he asked.

"Make husband wait, big want for Anza," she giggled before rolling away.

He sighed and yanked the furs off her. "Maybe husband just wants to look."

That was something he got, right before she loudly slapped his chest with the full weight of her tail for his insolence. Since he wasn't ready at all for the assault it felt as if somebody struck him with a club! However her laughter was cut short when he leaned over and bit down on her soft scales, she yelped and kicked vainly before scrambling out of reach.

"Anza bite!" she warned, snapping her teeth. "Anza bite there."

He covered his vulnerable masculine parts. "That's your favorite, you wouldn't."

She shrugged. "You still have, mmm," she demonstrated her cerulean tongue.

"You are not nice."

"Thonvar not nice, bite Anza," she retorted with her best pouting face. "Hurt."

Powerless to resist her charms and realizing his futile position, he crawled over to his wife and kissed her knee softly. That wasn't enough, she wanted more and she took it, rolling him on his back to straddle him for a deep, tongue-tying kiss that made his excitement run hot. Even worse was she knew about it, her tail casually batting from thigh to thigh, making sure to be as punishing as possible. Finally he couldn't take it anymore, his powerful arms took her down by the haunches as he rolled on top.

"Husband, no!" she laughed, gasping as he forced himself past her resistance and where he needed to be to access her. "No, no!"

"Yes," he breathed, struggling to hold her still.

Then finally he won, pressing himself down on her tiny frame and forcing her to submit. At first she struggled with a final burst of strength, but then her effort flipped completely and she pulled him hard with a soft moan. He needed it bad and so did she, her claws gripped him hard to guide--

"Thonvar?"

Every fiber of his male body screamed in blood-boiling rage as his brain short-circuited from the interruption, but his sense of modesty was just as deeply-rooted as his hunger for kobold flesh and quickly won the struggle. On went the furs in a flash of movement and he rolled over to her side, his big form occupying the left side of their little wooden castle.

"What."

Runa's little snout poked through the curtains. "Runa need Anza help."

Damn it all. "Wait outside, she needs to be dressed."

When he looked at her she had a look of sincere pity for him laced with a flash of extreme frustration, but she sighed and gave him a big Anza-big-sorry kiss. Then she had an opportunity to tease him and took it, choosing to squat right next to his head while she dressed herself in the most tantalizing way possible.

Oh, he wanted to do things to her.

She knew it too, glancing over her shoulder and giggling as her leather leggings went up. Just as a finishing touch, she shimmied her hips until he affixed the garment's strap up and over her juicy tail. Yes, he was thinking of all the things he'd do to her and he liked that she could read his perverted mind. One last kiss and she left, he tried to sigh away the unsatisfied hollowness before clumsily stuffing himself into a fresh set of clothes.

Boots finally on the ground, he was immediately greeted by the sight of an excited Agziqoh clutching her spear.

"I hope you're having a better morning than I am," he muttered, reaching back in to grab his bow. "Let us see to the wagons first."

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Hunting had to wait, apparently the guards had caused a fight in a tavern and at the armed insistence of the town guard the wagons were forced to move on without breakfast. He kept his bow and quiver on just in case, it wasn't until noon that somebody finally noticed he was more armed than usual. Offering a trade for the day, one of the mounted mercenaries took a seat on his wagon while Thonvar sat high up on the chocolate mare where he could see. He had ignored the warning the cavalryman gave him as he rode, his mind was decidedly elsewhere.

Being on her was make him miss his old horse, she had been gifted to his best friend after the untimely death of his mount. She was a fine companion, he missed the wind on his face as he rode her wherever she wanted to go. Nina had been raised among the horse-bound nomads of the Reach, like all others of her kind she was fiercely intelligent and needed little guidance.

The horse under him was dumb, he could feel it. He knew it. On a deep, fundamental level there was not much of a bond between him and her; not like there should have been. Yet...

Thonvar closed his eyes and hummed in the very base of his throat.

Her ears went back, not in anger but in curiosity at the odd noise the human was making. Just as a test he leaned to one side, as if he was injured and needed help, she did not respond as she should have to keep him on besides slowing down. Good girl. He sat right back up, his feet pressing hard in the stirrups before encouraging her forward into an easy canter toward the front of the train. Once up there the elves watched the redheaded northerner with what looked like genuine amusement as he tested his mount, she had started to act up and he was finding out how much of a pain she was.

Experimentation was not his end goal, not at all, his eyes were sharp with excitement as he glanced around the forest and tried to will activity to form from the woods on either side. If and when he saw activity...

"Not a deer in sight," he said aloud.

Frustration set in. Well the trade was for a day, he let the horse wander at it's leisure and took to humming a deep-voiced tune. Like others of his kind they often hummed or sang when riding, the song itself was a constantly shifting commentary about... Everything. Rarely did he lead, he wasn't fast with his words, but he did contribute to the chorus parts and provided "music" by chanting or holding notes as necessary. Everyone could do it, they rarely used instruments as a people besides hitting stuff or stomping so on the steppes it was the horses and voices to carry when there was no singing.

He missed it a lot.

Before his father had sent him to chase invaders out of their grassy homeland he spent much of his time by himself or with Hroki, that changed when Vadgar came with northerners and their little ship-portable horses. Suddenly he was a guide and scout; spear in hand, sword at his hip, Nina underneath, and free in the wind as he ran down foolish foreigners caught out in the open. Sometimes they surrendered, a wise decision, his father had grown somewhat rich by ransoming off the packs of survivors that tried to capture some hold keeps.

His brothers led the main force, but it was Thonvar's group that had the real success. Nina was fast and brave, the nomads that sold her off said she came from a line sired by a great wyrm seduced by a crafty mare. Sometimes he wanted to believe the ridiculous story, it certainly seemed plausible when she ignored him to run down some southerner on a white gelding. When she caught him she yanked him off by his belt, the man cowered in terror and Thonvar had to fight her to keep the mare from further violence.

Wyrmsblood or not, she did adore Hroki enough to make the pairing bearable for him. They played in the stables often enough, she would always know when the fool was hiding an apple and wouldn't hesitate to shove the puny human around! Of course he relented, the feisty old girl was spoiled rotten and he was he culprit.

A breeze hit him hard and he closed his eyes; on a whim he whispered, "I miss you both," into the unseen spirit's waiting ear.

She would take those words out west where they belonged.

Yet the wind still had to make the important deliveries, aromas of warm food filled his senses and gave him thoughts of a full pot of stew over a camp's open fire. Who could it be up there? Wondering wasn't enough, he gave the mare a little encouragement to canter once more.

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"Hold there!" called a voice.

Debate in his mind gave way to relief, a guard jogged out from the forest and he began to slow.

"Hold! Hold there! It's not safe!"

"What isn't?" Thonvar called out, slowing to a stop. "Bandits?"

Wide eyes told him his guess was wrong, but the guard's anxious voice called out, "no, reachman! No, it's worse than that!"

"What then? What's in these woods here?"

He hadn't often seen guards fearful, they were stout and brave with a great many responsibilities and were one of the local leader's permanent armed men. These weren't mere soldiers, they formed the core military and law enforcement force for towns, cities, and the wider holds and territories all across the north; they were hand-picked for the honor. Seeing one sweating, eyes hollow, his breath ragged as if he were a dumb farmer terrified of a sabercat youth he caught stalking... That was unusual. Unsettling.

"I need to know, there's wagons coming and--"

"They have to go back!" he cried, arms waving toward the west. "Please, it's not safe! There's... Evil is here, westerner. I tell you an evil has come here. It came with the blood night, and the sky piece! You saw it, didn't you?"

His eyes were wide with terror.

"What hold is that? I don't recognize the shield."

"Hakjansfell, they sent me and Erik... He's sick. Mad. He went fevered and went mad, I don't know what to do. What do I do?"

Thonvar scowled and looked back at the way he came. "Show me this Erik, I will see if he's well enough to ride."

Dismounting was best, he slid off and led the horse along a ways until he saw their little camp, a single tent with a pot over a fire, two bedrolls, one... One had feet, kicking wildly as if they were trying to propel the man through open water. Carefully he tied the horse to a nearby sapling and approached, the sound of labored breathing and harsh whispering grew louder and louder until he saw a man stripped down to almost nothing. His eyes were wide open, body glistening with fresh sweat, back arched in a way that made Thonvar want to cringe, his hands twisted into unnatural poses as he whispered his delirious chant.

"This man needs a whitemage."

Hearing a city guard break out into a sob made Thonvar's neck hairs stand on end.

"What do we do!? Oh gods above help us, help us please!"

Drums.

He heard drums.

Thonvar's blood ran cold as ice as the horse cried out, snorting and stomping. An electric sensation fell over him and he knew then, in that second, that the guard's tale was right. This wasn't simple fever, this was a sickness of the soul. This was evil.

"This man needs a priest and we need to move. Now."