One Moo'r Plow

BBook 2: Chapter 52: Homeward bound.

This ordeal, this weight that I had carried across my shoulders for so long, was finally over. This I realized as we left the ruined fortress behind.

I was relieved, to put it lightly. The horde’s arrival had consumed so much of my thoughts and time, and now those worries could be laid to rest. Others might appear in the future, but for now, my problems were dealt with. There would be more, I knew. This world lacked not for trouble and danger, and it seemed to hold firm my scent and follow my every step.

But today, everything had been settled. The war-herd had been ground to a halt and put into the dirt. At great cost, yes. We left the uncounted dead behind us, men and women who had fallen in their duty to prevent the destruction of this land. And while I did grieve for them, my heart remained hopeful.Th.ê most uptod/at𝓮 n𝒐vels a/re published on n(0)velbj)n(.)c/o/m

I had saved a life in all this carnage. And words could little describe the emotion that filled me with. Instead I stood and basked in the sun above, simply grateful to be alive and well. And wet, given that I had thoroughly rinsed myself in a small river just moments earlier. Covered in grime and blood and gore as I had been, the water had run red. But I was clean, hale and healthy as I waited for Valencia to finish her own dip.

The fortress’s ruin stood off in the distance, the wall that faced Ironmoor’s lands barely intact. No matter how sturdily built it was, there seemed to always be forces enough the lay waste to the strongest fortifications.

In this world, same as my old home, people were more adapt at destruction than building. Their ability to tear down greater than their skills of preservation.

This I relayed to Valencia as she emerged from the river, soaked and dripping water. The dreadknight shrugged and scraped off spots on her armor, methodically cleaning her gear.

“They’ll rebuild. Not the first time these walls have been knocked down. That’s why Londer keeps mages on retainer. A few good sorcerers and they’ll be raised up again in no time.”

“And the manpower needed to guard the walls?”

“That’s going to be a little more difficult.”

The worst had happened here, in many cases. The defenders had either been killed to a man, or had broken and ran. Neither was preferable, although one did save some lives. Valencia had not found the bodies of the mages or Adric, so that was that. Perhaps they had chosen to retreat while the two of us held the horde.

To say I would be miffed at being abandoned like that was an understatement. But if lives had been preserved, then so be it.

“Londer will have to shift forces here from other regions.” She continued. “Stir up recruitment to account for the gaps in his forces. Perhaps hire mercenaries for the time being.”

All things that would, blissfully, not concern me.

I had faced so much death and carnage that every opportunity I had to not do so was a treasure most precious. To let someone else worry about the logistics of death was completely within my intentions. I had a farm to maintain and people to keep paid and fed. That was the extent of my current concerns. But for now, I was content to stand here and enjoy the fading warmth of summer’s end on my skin.

The days had started to grow chilly, the leaves beginning to turn in color. Fall before winter. For now, all that I had planned was to hunker down and begin to stockpile resources.

That was the task of another day. For now, I simply enjoyed the warmth from above and waited for Valencia to finish so that we might set off.

The lands we had passed through days before remained the same in scenery at least. Empty and devoid of human life, undisturbed save for our passing.

The people had been shepherded out, taken from their homes and safekept until the horde was broken and they might return.

“Where will you go now?” I asked as we walked together.

“I’ve not yet decided.” She spoke, voice unusually contemplative. Her usual aura of dread and fear was gone, the malice that preceded her nowhere to be found. I interrupted her then to ask about that.

What had she lost, now that the Gods Below no longer patroned her?

“My strength remains.” Valencia shrugged. “Gifts cannot be ungiven. If they could, why would anyone choose to serve the Gods Below?”

“The demon and its presence are gone. It’s burden lifted from my soul. Its taint cleansed from my being.”

“Another gift then, that I am not forced to the ground in your presence anymore.”

A wicked smile preceded an immense shift in gravity as the world grew heavy. I stumbled and Valencia laughed, only for the pressure to instantly fade away.

“That gift, I kept.” She explained with some mirth even as I rolled my eyes and righted my form.

“What you felt was its presence amplifying my emotions. Making them known to all around me. Annoying at first, but I chose to use that to my advantage. If my innermost feelings would be known to the world around me, then let them suffer for it.”

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“But it is gone, and I no longer need do that.”

A sigh escaped her lips as she continued on.

“You’ve little idea how it feels. To not have a stranglehold around your soul. Have some feral, ravenous force of hatred chained up inside you, trying to claw free at every, single lapse of concentration. And now, nothing. Sweet, blissful nothingness.”

“All thanks to you.”

“Did you know that demons speak emotions, Garek?” Came the words after a small lapse in conversation. “They don’t converse in mortal tongues. Instead, their language is what they feel.”

“And what was the most common phrase in that language?” I asked, curiosity budding in my mind.

“Hatred. Non-stop, gibbering, vehement hate for anything and everything. Sheer disdain for any sort of life and order. Even crushed up and tied down, reduced to dust, they will keep screaming it.”

“They see us, and they hate everything about our world. Want nothing more than reduce it to slag. Turn it into yet another hell.”

“There’s a reason you’re telling me this.” I deduced.

“And the dwarves have let them out.”

This much I remembered. Her words of the dwarf’s failed breach of the Hells rang through my mind.

“Don’t worry about that now. It’ll be a long time yet before that becomes relevant to anyone but those dirt-dwellers.”

I was tempted to ask her what all she had found in the dungeon atop the Redtip, but that would invite even more worries. As such, it would be left for a later date.

Any conversation I wished to have was interrupted, however. Off in the distance, I spotted the faint silhouette of a figure on horseback. Even with my horrible vision, I could make out that it wheeled and galloped away.

“Scout.” Was the conclusion I came to and spoke.

“Likely. Waiting to see who or what emerges from the fortress.”

“Why not approach and find out?” It had been several days since the siege ended, and not a single person had ventured near the broken fortress.

“Minotaurs can run just as fast as a horse.” I answered my own question after a moment of thought. “Oh.”

“Yes.”

Riders came from the hills before us, trotting down the dirt roads to meet us with caution. Banners were carried overhead and their weapons were drawn as they approached.

“Lady Valencia.” Came the greeting. “What news is there from the fortress?”

The captain that spoke was younger than I would have thought. Barely an adult by my reckoning.

“No survivors. From either side.”

An awkward pause came before the boy informed us that there were indeed survivors from the fort. Adric had pulled back the remnants of the defenders and retreated away before his wounds had required he be taken all the way back to Hullbretch.

“Then you can ride to inform him the fortress has been secured. The bodies were disposed of. It’s going to require a small amount of effort on his part to restore, however.”

“Shall I ride ahead to inform the Lord Ironmoor of your victory and return?”

“No.” She declined. “My victory, yes. My return is not so certain for now. But let him know of what happened here, so that some of his burden can be eased.”

“And a horse for your own journey?” The youth offered up his own steed.

This, she also refused.

“I’d prefer to walk, for now. I’ve been in a hurry to rush from one place to the next for far too long. No need for that now.”

“As you wish.” The young captain bowed and wheeled his men away. They rode back towards whence they had come, and our own journey resumed. We did not remain on this road alone for long, however. Riders started to pass us by, headed in the direction of Greysong Keep. Scouts sent back to tentatively search the ruins and estimate the damage. More would come to escort the citizens back to their homes, and see that the crops were tended to.

We made idle chatter as the journey progressed. Small things of little importance. Enjoying the feeling of still being alive. I kept the important questions at bay, content to not ruin this day with any serious inquiries, even though the burned at the back of my mind.

Some things were best left for other times. If I asked now, the answer would be give, and the answer might provoke even more questions. Which would lead to more worries, more late nights as more troubles came. And for now, I wanted little of that.

And all too soon, we arrived at the junction where our ways would be parted. One road stretched up the mountain towards my way, the other towards Hullbretch.

“Where will you go now?” I asked as we stood in the shadow of trees as the shadow of evening grew long.

“I haven’t decided. I promised to serve the House Ironmoor until my dying breath, at one point. And I have. That has come and gone, and by all accounts, I am free now to do as I please.”

“The dungeon awaits, but I no longer have a great eagerness to chase its depths. I did so for power, for fame, for recognition in the eyes of the Gods Above.”

“I have needed of that no longer.”

“Only for the love of the battle itself would I venture back in there. One day, perhaps.”

“For now, I am without a direction. And honestly, I feel somewhat happy that way.”

There was a moment then. An opportunity I had waited for with bated nervousness for most of the journey. One I was hesitant to speak about, lest she refuse it and laugh.

“Why don’t you come to the farm for a while? It’s away from all these politics and messes. Stay there for a bit. Rest and relax until you decide where you want to go.”

She laughed then, mirth in her eyes.

“Garek, if I didn’t know better, I’d reckon you were giving me an invitation to your home.”

“I am.” I replied, doing my best to keep my expression straight.

“Mmmm. I accept. Let us go there together, then.”

I would be a liar if I did not say my heart skipped a beat right then and there.

There would be some explaining to do once I returned with the dreadknight in tow. But like all things, I could worry about that later.

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