Chaos God 3, page 19
part #3 of Chaos God Series
“It’s a good thing we’re going to a village with a healer,” I muttered as I pulled my hand back just enough to look at the jagged cut along the length of Cedoric’s bicep. It didn’t look especially deep, but I was pretty sure he would benefit from a series of stitches. “What do we have to stop the blood loss?”
“Here,” Finnern said, and then there was a sharp sound of fabric ripping.
I looked over my shoulder at the triple-braided dwarf and saw he was ripping the hem of his shirt clean off. He handed me the long strip of cotton, and I nodded my thanks to the man as I wrapped it tightly around the still-bleeding wound.
“Here, use these as well,” Shalanna said, and she ripped both the sleeves from her shirt and handed them to me.
“Thank you,” I said, and I added the fabric to the thick muscles of Cedoric’s injured arm.
It wasn’t ideal, but the improvised bandages would hold the sides of the wound in place and help the wound to clot, so at least the curly-haired man wouldn’t bleed out.
“How do you feel?” I asked, and I looked hard into Cedoric’s brown eyes.
“I have been better, my lord,” Cedoric said in a dry voice, and then he swallowed hard. “But I assure you, I will survive this.”
“I’m sure you will.” I gave the resilient man a half-smile and turned back to Finnern. “Get him some water, please, will you?”
Finnern nodded once, and then he darted back into the hidden crevice that led up to our campsite.
“I believe I will be thoroughly unable to sleep another moment.” Shalanna frowned.
“Nor will I,” Ayen agreed as he continued to scan the tree line with his bow raised and an arrow ready to fly. “Perhaps we should simply carry on to the village now.”
“It will be daylight before much longer,” Elora pointed out. “And I would rather not put off getting Cedoric closer to the healer in this village.”
“I think you’re right.” I nodded, and I studied Cedoric in the dim light. “You rest here, Ayen will keep watch over you, and the rest of us will pack everything up.”
“Aye, my lord,” Cedoric agreed without any argument, but the strength in his voice gave me hope that he’d be okay after being tended to by Freesia.
I stood up and turned to my ladies just as Finnern landed on the ground with a water pouch and a chunk of dried cockerel in his hands.
“We’re going to pack up, you two keep watch,” I instructed the triple-braided dwarf.
“Aye, my lord,” Finnern said, and he walked over to our injured companion.
“Come on, let’s pack up.” I gestured for my ladies to follow me back into the hidden cave entrance.
I led Shalanna, Elora, and Frida back into the cave, and I quickly boiled some water over the last low flames of our fire to make some ginger tea for my pregnant warrior. Then we quickly rolled up our sleeping mats, and we worked together to lift Frida’s saddle pack around her dorsal fin. I secured it around her body as Elora tucked the last bits of food and our water pouch back into Frida’s pack. Shalanna kicked dirt over the low flames that were all that remained of our fire from earlier, and then I handed her the steaming mug of tea.
“Here, drink this,” I encouraged.
“Thank you,” Shalanna murmured as she took the mug from my hands. She blew on the cup, drank it faster than I expected, and then looped the handle of the cup onto her belt for safekeeping.
Once the cave was settled, and all our belongings had been collected, we dropped back down to the ground. I handed the water pouch to Ayen and nodded my thanks to him for keeping watch.
“Anything else out there?” I asked as I scanned over the goat-demon corpses that littered the edge of the forest.
“No, nothing.” Ayen shook his head. “Is everything secured?”
“Yeah, we’re good to go,” I said and turned to Cedoric where he still sat on the ground. “As soon as you’re ready, we can head out.”
“I’m ready, my lord,” Cedoric said in a strong voice, and he pushed himself to his feet.
Finnern had strapped Cedoric’s axe to his back and carried his massive war hammer in his hands.
Ayen slung his bow over his shoulder quickly and reached out to lend Cedoric a hand if he needed it, but the big man looked steady enough on his feet.
“Alright, let’s go,” I said.
I led the way, and I was glad to see that Finnern and Ayen were pointedly letting Cedoric fall into step behind me. The two men fell in behind our injured companion, and then Shalanna with Frida at her side went next, and my silver-haired Valkyrie took up the rear of our line.
We marched along the rocky base of the mountain for a while longer, and the sun had just started to appear on the far eastern horizon as we came upon the more paved footpath I’d spotted through the mountain.
The path would act like a train track and guide us straight toward the village, and so I stopped and encouraged Cedoric to go first.
“Just follow the path,” I said. “We’ll go at whatever pace you set.”
“Aye, my lord,” Cedoric said, and there was gratitude and exhaustion in his brown eyes.
I looked at the once-white bandages wrapped around his upper arm, and they were completely stained a deep shade of red now. I didn’t like how much blood he’d lost, but Cedoric set a steady pace as Finnern and Ayen fell into step behind him.
Frida moved onto the path next, and I stepped up after Shalanna, with Elora two steps behind me.
I studied Shalanna’s movement as we walked, and I was glad to see she seemed to be handling the exertion well enough. I could only assume the ginger root tea was helping her as much as Elora had hoped it would.
The footpath led us steeply up to the top ridge of the mountains as the sun rose over the forest to the east. I didn’t love that we were probably easier to spot up here, but I knew nothing could sneak up on us from the depths of the forest at least.
Cedoric kept a steady pace at the front of our line, and I trusted him not to overwork himself even though a small part of me wished we were making better time.
We hiked for a few hours in silence before we took a short break and filled our stomachs with the delicious dried meats and fresh fruits Ingrid had packed for us. We made sure not to overdo it, or to run through our supplies too quickly. I was optimistic that we wouldn’t be desperately in need of supplies on our return journey, but I also knew it was possible things in the village wouldn’t go as planned.
After our short break, we continued down the path, and we sipped at our water pouches as we went. Frida’s smooth head pivoted evenly back and forth as she kept her beady black eyes on both the forest to our right and the lava fields beyond the mountain range to our left.
The sun was beyond the peak of its daily journey by the time the rolling fields of cultivated farmlands came into view ahead of us.
Cedoric paused at a wide area in the path so we could look out over farmlands and rest for a moment.
“My gods,” Finnern breathed as his moss-green eyes scanned the crops.
“This is more than I expected it would be,” Ayen admitted in an almost-reverent tone.
“There is so much land here,” Elora agreed. “Levi, it’s incredible.”
Before I could say anything, a sharp howling sound echoed over the fields to us from the creepy-looking orchards far on the other side of the village.
“What in Niflheim was that?” Finnern frowned.
“I don’t know exactly,” I said. “I assume that’s the scaly demons I heard Gaelyra and Berk talking about.”
“They’re further beyond the village?” Elora asked.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure they’re way out in those orchards,” I said, and I raised an arm to point out the gnarled and overgrown apple trees in the distance.
“Could they be in that forest as well?” Shalanna asked, and her silver-flecked blue eyes were locked on the Tim Burton-esque forest to the east of the village.
“It’s possible.” I nodded. “I didn’t necessarily hear the howls coming from that direction, but I don’t like the look of that forest any more than the orchards.”
“Oh!” Finnern gasped loudly, and he pointed to the western edge of the village. “I see sheep!”
“This is so wonderful,” Shalanna breathed.
“Well, we did not come this far to stare at it all,” Ayen said. “Why have we not yet started into the village?”
“Hang on,” I chuckled. “I don’t think just marching into the village is a good idea.”
“Levi’s right,” Elora agreed. “Perhaps you should shift and go in to look around before we decide how to move forward.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” I nodded. “Let’s get down to the end of the path, and you can all hide at the edges of the fields while I go and scope things out.”
“Fair enough,” Ayen relented, but the frown between his blond eyebrows told me he was feeling impatient.
“Come on.” I rolled my eyes at my friend, and I led them down to the bottom of the footpath.
We sidetracked a few minutes to find a dense copse of trees where my companions could settle in and wait while I flew into town.
“You rest,” I commanded Cedoric, and I eyed the bandages on his upper arm. The blood seemed to have stopped flowing, and the bright red was darkening to a reddish-brown that matched his hair. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Be safe, my love,” Elora said, and Shalanna nodded emphatically beside her.
I gave each of my ladies a kiss before I stepped forward and urged my body to begin shifting. I wanted to blend right in with the village, so I focused on a simple chicken form, and I felt my nose extend out into a sharp orange beak as feathers sprouted out all over my body. My feet split into the three toes of a chicken, and deep red tailfeathers popped out of my lower spine.
Then I gave my companions a little cluck, thoroughly ignored Ayen’s chortling laughter at my form, and scurried off into the nearest field.
I extended my wings and used them to hasten my progress toward town, and only when I emerged from the field at the edge of the village did I slow down to a more normal walking speed for a chicken.
There was a small flock of chickens pecking at the ground and wandering toward the center of town, so I moved into their group to further disguise my presence.
One large chicken with bright orange tailfeathers eyed me for a moment with what looked like suspicion in its tiny eyes. I wondered if it could tell I wasn’t one of them, but the bird only clucked at me and then returned to searching for bugs to eat.
It took a bit longer than I would have liked for the flock of chickens to meander into the center of town, but I knew my added camouflage was worth the wait. Finally, we rounded one of the small houses that I knew sat at the edge of the village square, and the center of town came into view.
I stopped dead in my tracks as I saw the immense changes that had happened in the two days since I’d last been here.
Half a dozen old-fashioned wooden stocks had been constructed in the grassy field in the middle of the village square, and every single one of them held a prisoner.
They stood bent at the waist with their hands and heads locked into place. I recognized the man who’d led a donkey into town on my first visit to the village, and a few of the other villagers I’d seen on my two trips here, but there was one prisoner whose presence made my blood boil.
In the stock furthest away from me was a bowed head covered in the thick, bright red curls of the village healer, Freesia.
Chapter 14
My chicken wings began to flap of their own accord as rage bubbled through my body, and I had to force my feet to stay where they were.
The beautiful woman’s freckled face was locked in a frown of pure, simmering rage, and her hands were knotted into tight fists in the wooden frame that held her in place.
A few dozen other villagers, including Freesia’s father and the mother and son who’d come to visit the healer, milled around the stocks in various states of worry and confusion.
I watched their faces closely for a while, and I was bothered to see them each cycle through a consistent pattern. First, their faces were placid and a bit unfocused, then their eyes would lock onto the stock and prisoner nearest to them, and a frown would crease their eyebrows together. The irritation would build for just a moment before their eyes became hazy once more, and they returned to the state of perpetual confusion that hovered over this town like a constant toxic fog.
The other five prisoners in the stocks beside Freesia went from looking half-asleep, to a sudden touch of panic where they’d pull at their trapped hands for a second before they, too, tumbled back into confusion, and their hands would go slack once more.
The only two people whose faces remained constant in their anger and misery were Freesia and her father’s, whose name I hadn’t yet learned.
The too-skinny adolescent boy, Sten, and his mother, Mabel, glanced at the healer in the stocks and then walked up to her father.
I scurried as quickly and inconspicuously as I could manage around the edge of the town square, and I got to them just in time to catch the beginning of their conversation.
“Erik, what is happening?” Mabel asked, and her face was lined with concern.
“Fret not, Mabel,” Erik grumbled as he watched the bent head of his daughter. “This will not trouble you for more than a few…”
Before the curly-haired elf could even finish his sentence, Mabel’s hazel eyes grew hazy, and a placid smile turned the corners of her lips up.
“Such a lovely day today,” Mabel murmured in a dazed tone of voice, and then she took Sten by the hand and led him away from the square.
“The haze is strong today,” Erik growled low in his throat.
“We cannot continue this way forever, Father,” Freesia said, and she turned her head as far to the side as she could within the wooden frame of her prison.
Erik knelt down beside her to look into her leafy-green eyes, and he sighed with heavy sadness.
“Your innocence will be proven,” Erik assured his daughter, but I could hear the doubt in his voice.
An older-looking woman with pointed ears like Erik marched into town from behind the broad-shouldered horse master. I didn’t recognize her from my previous visits, but she stomped forward with the same focus and anger in her lavender eyes that I’d only seen in Freesia and her father.
“What is this?” The woman looked to be creeping up on old age, but it was hard to tell with elves just how old they were. She didn’t seem to be as old as Wyn, and there were still a few streaks of strawberry-blonde hair among the thick patches of gray. “Erik, what has happened here?”
“Mother.” The curly-haired elf stood up and threw his arms around the older elf. “Things have dissolved greatly in the last few days since you’ve been in town.”
“Why is my granddaughter in stocks?” the older elf hissed through her teeth.
I watched with curiosity as Erik quickly and quietly explained about the Demon Lord’s failure to pick up his supplies.
“Gaelyra has accused these people of interfering with the exchange,” Erik finished as he gestured around at the six prisoners.
“You know as well as I that these people have nothing to do with that foolish deal she made.” The gray-haired elf scowled angrily around the village square. “Where is Gaelyra, I shall give her a piece of my mind…”
“Berk said she would be out shortly to make an announcement,” Erik said. “And you know as well as I that Freesia and the others’ innocence in all of this has nothing to do with why they have been locked up.”
“My dearest child.” The woman sank down and stroked her granddaughter’s cheek. “Are you injured?”
“No, Grandmother,” Freesia said in a calm voice. “I am fine. I can endure this nonsense.”
“Attention!” Berk’s voice rang through the village square.
Erik and his mother moved to stand between Freesia and the scrawny balding man.
“Our Lady Gaelyra speaks,” Berk said in a quavering voice, and he dipped in a bow so low he almost fell forward into the dirt.
The gathering of villagers in the town square turned to face toward the hunched frame of the balding man and the front steps of the three-story building that acted as Gaelyra’s office and home. Awareness flashed briefly across several faces before being consumed by the thick cloud of confusion once more.
“My loyal citizens,” Gaelyra’s voice called out in a sickly-sweet tone that rang as false inside my ears. “It weighs heavy on my heart that we have come to this tragic situation.”
“She has no heart,” Freesia’s grandmother hissed through clenched teeth.
“Mother,” Erik whispered in a warning tone.
“But crimes must be punished!” Gaelyra continued, and she walked into the center of the ring of stocks to look at each prisoner in turn. “Your actions against me, and every person in this village, has cost us the security and safety granted to us by the benevolence of the Demon Lord’s good graces.”
The man who’d led his donkey into town looked totally lost within himself, and he didn’t seem to register a single word that was spoken. Another woman I vaguely recognized had tears flowing freely down her dirt-smudged face, and the confusion in her eyes only seemed to add to her misery. The other three villagers seemed to try and follow along with Gaelyra’s words, and they nodded when she’d mentioned the Demon Lord’s good graces.
“Confess to your crimes,” Gaelyra urged the prisoners, and she paced around the stocks until she stopped in front of Erik and his stubborn-faced mother. “The punishment will fit the crimes.”
“The only crimes that have been committed here, Gaelyra, have been committed by you.” The gray-and-blonde woman stared hard at the village leader. “You will pay dearly for the horrors you have inflicted upon this village.”
“Will I?” Gaelyra sneered at Freesia’s grandmother, and it was clear by the smirk in her dark gray eyes that she didn’t believe this at all. “You have no power over me, Eirlina.”
“And you have but one power,” Erik said, and he laid a supportive hand on his mother’s narrow shoulder. “Your tricks will run out sooner or later, and we will not easily forget what you have done here to us and our home.”
