Friends: 2

"Master, should we have listened to the golden Khar instead?"

"Dear Escha, that decision was Lord Garak's alone. Now, come my love and let us be comfortable with each other instead."

Escha followed Trai away from the cook fire. He loved his master, but sometimes Trai didn't think things through. The scars on his body were proof of times when he'd used his gift without proper precaution, and in the years passing Escha had convinced Trai to be a little bit more careful. That only worked to a degree. An act that didn't present direct danger was still nothing Trai could be bothered to think through in advance. Probably the main reason Trai would never rise very high among Khars despite his awesome powers with fire.

Tomorrow they would start searching for Arthur again. Always for Arthur. Taleweaver or not, Escha didn't like the implications. It was as if the Khraga and the girl didn't count. He didn't understand that. They were fellow members of the caravan as well, and yet the executions earlier had proved how the people here cared less for free men than masters cared for their slaves in Khanati.

It was a strange land this. Cold and desolate without any of the beauty he was used to. He was certain it was a reason the people living here wore barren hearts as well.

Escha frowned. They needed strong Fire Khars here to warm their miserable lives, just like Trai was a fiery, lovely light in his, but Escha could never remember his life being miserable, even before he met Trai. It was good to have a master caring for your needs though, and Trai, for all his sweet shortcomings, was a very good master.

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Neritan and Escha sat face to face, in deep concentration when Nakora arrived. Escha's dark skin contrasted to Neritan's creamy white, his black hair and her silver. Throbbing waves of power radiated from them, but not as if from two sources. They were joined as one single entity, using their gifts together.

Nakora wondered what it was like, and sometimes she wished she had the gift herself. It was taxing, she'd heard. Long use tired the body the same way a hard march did, but there was no benefit like the body learning and growing more resilient to hard wear. They'd never grow strong unless they spent time with physical training. Those who did had to work twice as hard, and she knew a lot of magehealers slept very little.

Nothing to do but wait, and wait she did until Harbend finally showed up. There was another who had to work long days.

So worn! When did he eat last?

Everyone expected him to solve their problems, or at least listen to them. A lord from Khi, their true homeland, and it was as if anyone from there had to be able to be, well, more able. She wasn't clear why. Maybe a residue from a distant feeling of failure, but that was ridiculous.

Seven hundred years had passed since her ancestors failed to return home to their lands and families. By now it was more of a legend than anything else. Only the golden had any memories, but that sufficed to remind the humans of what could have been.

She left the mages to meet Harbend.

You look so lonely. It is a strange thing I care so much. What is happening to me? Realization crashed down on her. No, it shall not be! But it was, and she had to force her racing heart to slow down before she could speak.

"They are making ready," Nakora said as she came closer.

"Good. When we have found them and brought them back I shall have a talk with Arthur about the wisdom of walking about alone in the wilderness."

Nakora grinned in response. Harbend was right. None of this would have happened at all if the outworlder had come back with the rest of the vanguard. If he didn't know, then the Khraga should have.

"We shall find them," she assured him.

"With three mages of that magnitude helping us we had better."

The comment hurt her, but she pretended it had not. He couldn't know how she hated any part of a mission she couldn't control, or at least influence.

Or because it comes from you.

"Should we go to them?"

"Yes, I think so. Escha seems to prefer us being close to him when he jumps."

Harbend was gifted with strong hands, and a handsome face. He had thrown her long looks earlier. She was surprised the thought didn't disturb her more. They walked across the patch of trampled snow, dirtied from many feet crossing it. She gave him another glance. His side knot wasn't in very good order any longer, but he hardly had any time to keep his hair properly dressed out here. Smiling she sat down beside the mages.

When Trai arrived Nakora knew they were ready, and she prepared herself for the jump. It came and went, and they arrived at another open place where days of walking had turned the snow a grayish yellow. She saw huts around her, enormous huts, and then she heard Neritan cry out behind her.

Nakora wheeled, sword already drawn, crouching to meet whatever the golden mage had seen. Nothing.

"Khraga! You never mentioned Khraga," Neritan said.

"Gring is with us," Nakora explained after making certain none of the dangerous giants were close.

"No, you idiots, this is a Khragan settlement. How did your outworlder friend get involved with them?"

How did she know? Oh, must have been on Harbend's mind.

Nakora smiled at Neritan. "Gring's a follower of Arthur's, just like Khar Achnai and Khar Escha."

Neritan stared at the mages.

"It's true, glorious one. We accompanied Master Garak's bold venture in the hopes of learning from Lord Wallman," Trai answered the unspoken question.

"Learn?"

"Yes, your golden grace. Ever since he Wove we've come to..."

"Wove? The outworlder's a taleweaver?" Neritan stared at them.

Into us, Nakora realized.

"You incompetents managed to lose a taleweaver?" Neritan continued.

"I think more of him as a friend, but yes," Harbend admitted.

"I don't care if he's your lover. He's a taleweaver and you never even had enough sense to tell me. I joined your rescue mission to relieve the caravan from tension, not to rescue you from political repercussions your underdeveloped minds can't possibly understand!"

"Whatever, we're here. Now we get Lord Wallman back." Trai glared at Neritan with eyes dark enough to make anyone understand he didn't take well to being called mindless. Then he made for the stairs.

Idiot! You have to turn her insult into truth. Nakora turned to stop the Khar from his idiocy, but too late. Harbend and Trai were already on their way up the stairs, Harbend carefully keeping the doors in sight to be ready for whatever might be waiting there and Trai just trampling ahead as if there was nothing to fear at all.

Nakora didn't mind bravery. It was needed from time to time, but she abhorred stupidity, and at the moment Trai excelled in the latter. Anyone guarding the place needed to be blind not to see him rushing ahead like that.

Thank you for giving us away like that! We are not exactly coming in force.

With the moment of surprise lost she rushed after Trai and Harbend. Now they needed numbers more than anything else. Numbers they didn't have. If the entrance was indeed empty she meant to keep Trai in check before they advanced further into the building.

Nakora reached the doorway. Both men already inside. She had nothing to do but rush in after them. She could hear Escha running behind her. He probably thought she had everything under control and blindly followed her into whatever madness she was leading him into. Gods! She'd skin Trai alive if they managed to get away from here.

One short corridor and then suddenly an entry hall. It was almost circular in shape with three corridors leading away from it, one of which they had come through. Running steps came from both of the others. Had the idiots separated already or did one set of running feet belong to whoever lived here?

Flickering torches on the walls and a lonely oil lamp on a wooden table desperately tried to lighten up the gloomy interior without much success. Nakora crouched, weapon ready, as she tried to decide which way to go. Escha breathed hard from running. Neritan was there as well.

The thumping of feet against stone from the left came closer and Nakora chose the right corridor. She ran, as silently as she could, and soon entered yet another circular room very much alike the first they had arrived in. The fortress was turning into an uncomfortable maze.

Speed now. If we're fast enough we can still surprise them.

More on instinct than anything else Nakora headed for the left corridor so as not to hug the outer wall for too long. A few rooms later she was totally lost, but they hadn't encountered anyone, not even heard any sound but for their own steps and breathing, and she didn't want to tell her two companions she didn't know where they were.

Irritation caught her mind as she continued her search, not only for the people they were looking for, but for two of their own as well. Two more rooms and then she finally found herself in what could only be the center of the building. A large hall, better lit than the rooms they had passed, with a dais in the middle.

This time they were not alone. Four giant Khraga in leather armor stood, one each, at the other entrances to the hall she could see. Nakora rolled forward on the floor.

Just a bit too close.

A movement in the air as something heavy had passed over her. Coming to her feet she turned. She faced the Khraga her reflexes had already told her must be there. She held her sword. The guard was just standing there, eyes glazed over.

"Left!" Escha roared.

She cut low, twisting her body and threw its weight into the strike. The sword cut through leather and flesh. She sidestepped, backwards to the left and thrust slightly upwards. The Khraga fell over her sword and she abandoned it. Whipping out a dagger instead she stabbed down. Blade penetrating the neck the Khraga crashed to the floor. Nakora put a foot to the carcass and pulled her dagger out. After turning the body she retrieved her sword.

Escha, Neritan where?

There was a sense of wrongness to the hall she couldn't place. Another two Khraga yelled and converged on their target.

Only two of you? And where are you going?

They ran towards her but rather to an entrance across the hall.

Escha, you cunning bastard! You jumped me here. Poor guard never had a chance.

Cunning or not, he still left Neritan and himself without protection.

Something moved behind her. She ducked and almost cut through Harbend's crotch before staying her sword. He gave her a surprised look soon replaced with relief. Then, staring across the hall, he dashed for Neritan and Escha. He wasn't graceful, running like a charging bull without any concern for what dangers could be lurking here.

Nakora swore and ran after him. Fools, she was on a mission surrounded by fools, and they were doing their best to get themselves killed. She made sure she wasn't followed while she crossed the hall.

Giving a short, thankful thought to whatever gods protected idiots she saw Neritan bolting back the way she had come. Escha just vanished. At least he had the means to escape.

Two Khraga followed Neritan, but one remained unmoving. Harbend chased after them, each at least twice his size, without as much as even bothering to check if the remaining one was about to engage him.

Nakora studied the Khraga as she neared the opening. It was still standing there with unseeing eyes. Neritan must have done something. She was a Mindwalker after all. Satisfied it posed no immediate danger Nakora rushed after Harbend hoping she'd be able to catch up with him before he ran into the Khraga he was chasing.

No problem in choosing corridors this time. The sounds of feet and shouts led her way. She just had to follow the alarm. That, at least was the theory, but arriving in one of the seemingly endless rows of circular rooms Nakora accepted she had lost them.

She sheathed her sword and unhooked her crossbow. A quarrel would at least give her the benefit of a wounded opponent before she had to engage in melee with something far too large for her to handle without the advantage of surprise on her side.

A heavy weapon. Not the slender yet powerful tool for killing favored by the troops in Keen. This was Kordic design, made for penetrating heavy armor no longer used by anyone but the most rigidly conservative of the Kordic heavy horse. Still, Ri Kordari had been a neighbor for long years, and now the preferred distance weapon in Ri Khi was a monster taking ages to load instead of the heavy, recurved longbow her ancestors had first carried with them.

Nakora groaned as she winched the reloader until the click told her it was ready for fitting with a quarrel. It was too big for her, but she had been too stubborn to discard it. By now she was almost proficient, at least if she could steady it on something when loosing.

Weapon ready, she stole through the corridors, hesitating before she had to enter any room. Even though she realized the exit must be close Nakora felt like walking aimlessly for an eternity. All the time waiting to be ambushed.

Then, when she feared she would spend the rest of her life marching up and down empty rooms and corridors, she heard noises again. It was the sound of fighting, not metal ringing on metal, but steps and breaths in a pattern she recognized all too well. Nakora sprinted ahead. She almost dashed into the back of Neritan and fell to her knees to find a target. Neritan moved making it impossible to get a clear sight. The golden mage sidestepped a blow, Khraga towering above her. Again it trying to cut her down with its weapon. Neritan continued her dance with death, and Nakora had to crawl back to avoid standing in her way.

Gods! She moves like a warrior. Mage and warrior, is there nothing she has failed to master?

Whenever the Khraga attacked, Neritan simply moved away from where the cut or thrust was aimed. Armed with daggers only she had to. Blocking the weapon would have been futile. It still was a very one sided fight. The Khraga attacked and the mage moved out of harm's way, but she never struck back. There could eventually only be one outcome.

Frantically Nakora searched for a way to intervene without getting in the way, and an opportunity did come. An opening emerged, and with one hand over the quarrel she dove and rolled past the combatants.

The missile was still in its place as she got to her knees. She steadied herself, aimed and pulled the trigger. At such close distance it was impossible to miss, and the quarrel penetrated leather armor at mid-abdomen. The Khraga grunted in pain.

Neritan gave it a hard stare and the Khraga reeled over as if struck.

More Mindwalker powers.

Neritan closed with her weapons. When the Khraga sluggishly turned its attention to its new assailant she slashed with her sword.

She panted heavily and examined the corpse. Blue black fur dirtied by blood and clad in dark leather armor it still managed to look menacingly, almost as if it would rise to strike again. She glanced at Neritan, unsure what to say, but the golden mage only nodded back at her.

"Lucky. We were lucky this time."

Nakora agreed. "How long?"

"How long before he would have brought me down or how long I fought it before you arrived?"

"Both, I guess." Nakora blushed when she realized her answer might be taken as an offense.

"Longer than I'd care to repeat," Neritan responded after a while. "I heal and help people. Killing I try to leave to others."

They met each other's gaze as the aftershock slowly subsided and silence enveloped them both.

"Have you seen the others?" Nakora asked when she had calmed down.

"Trai got a lead on me, and I had to distract him," Neritan pointed at the corpse beneath them, "before he could turn and cut Harbend down. He tried to come to my help, but I ordered him to continue."

"You saw Trai?"

"Yes. Somehow he managed to come up behind us on our way in here."

Nakora didn't need Neritan to explain more. Of course the maze of corridors had to double back on themselves.

"I saw Escha jump after you ran. We had better get out of here before trying to find Arthur," Nakora suggested.

"He's not here. I can't feel his presence any longer. He was here yesterday though."

Gods! Then this had been for nothing. Nakora used the silence to ready her crossbow, and when it was loaded she turned to Neritan. "I suggest we remove our presence from here as well."

Neritan nodded in silent agreement and they started searching for the right way out. As earlier, it turned out to be easier in theory than in deed, and they spent another eternity walking around in circles. It wasn't until Nakora thought of grabbing a torch to mark the way on the walls she made out their bearings. After that they made better progress.

Close to the main entrance they stumbled into problems again. Five Khraga came running down one corridor just as Neritan followed her out into one of the circular rooms. Nakora had to dash blindly into another corridor. She could hear Neritan following her, but foremost the roars of their pursuers rose behind them.

Nakora was close to exhaustion when the world around her turned red and hot. Briefly she wondered if she'd been cut down. Years of training forced her to continue down the corridor and out into a room before she turned to meet her pursuers. Neritan sprinted closer and passed her, and then the Khraga came rushing down on them. Nakora desperately backed into the corridor Neritan had chosen.

Now I die.

Then a streak of fire caught the closest Khraga full in the face, and it stopped dead.

Nakora didn't understand what had happened, but she cried out with relief. Then she caught sight of Harbend crouching in the third doorway leading into the room she had just left.

A spear flew her way and she barely dodged it. She had to get away from the opening. Nakora backed away even further into the corridor as another Khraga charged after her.

Another lance of fire stabbed into the doorway.

Ah, Trai made it after all.

That was the first good news she had received during the entire dismal day. Nakora decided to wait a bit longer. With the support of the Fire Khar she might be able to hold the corridor until Harbend found a way to reach her.

"Harbend, hurry! They are not here and nor should we be."

There was no answer and she had to duck as another spear came flying.

"Down, Nakora!" Trai's voice.

Now that was a novelty. Trai might be a powerful Fire Khar, but he still had a lot to learn about fighting. If she had waited for his warning before she ducked she would have been impaled. She rolled and came up swearing. The crossbow was useless now. Strung but with no quarrel. It had fallen out.

A scream and a wave of heat made her flinch, but she groggily held her position. In front of her a shape writhed in flames, still screaming and clawing at itself in a futile attempt to flee from the fire. She gagged at the sight.

Then another shadow behind the quickly thinning, fiery curtain grew in size. It was Harbend dashing for safety.

"Where is Escha?" he yelled.

"With Neritan, outdoors." Nakora grabbed Harbend's sleeve and led him away. "Trai, get out of here!"

They ran. She was grateful they had all made it away from the awful place, but she could see the disappointment in Harbend's eyes. He had all but promised they would find Arthur here, and failure must weigh heavily on his shoulders by now. She hoped he wouldn't blame himself too much later.

He yelled something to Trai as she ran for the arced gateway leading out.

A wave of hot air followed her out and threw her to the ground as she finally came into the open.

Gods! Trai is powerful.

Screams still, but none from behind her. She didn't dare to look, didn't want to know what had happened. She staggered to her feet and let her legs decide again.

Away, just away from here!

Escha there, and Neritan, but she couldn't see the others. Then, at once Harbend with a nightmare behind him. It had to be Trai, but the figure was embraced by flames, blazing and writhing in agony.

Neritan screamed, and Trai. Escha, Escha stood mute but with a pain in his face a roar of despair more deafening than any scream. Harbend was the only one acting rather than staring. He removed his coat and covered the burning body with it as he grappled with it, rolling on the snow until the flames went out.

Harbend peeled off his ruined coat, and she turned away from the sight. What she saw instead was, if possible, even worse. The fortress flowed. Made of stone it burned anyway. Like molten glass it moved over the ground. The air was thick with smoke and steam, and distantly, as if part of a bad dream, screams still surrounded them.