Death Comes To All (Book 1) (29 page)

The
more he thought about it, the more he found he couldn't regret it in
the slightest.

If
I had fought with any other weapon, most likely I’d already be
dead. How could I possibly wish for any other blade?

He
looked up and saw Trick flying at a distance above them. The
dragonling was doing an admirable job of keeping himself hidden,
however Roland had been watching for the small creature, and so was
able to catch the occasional glimpse every now and then.

Though
he tried to pay attention to his surroundings, his mind kept
wandering back to the battle, and to everything that had happened
when he fought. That, however, was the last thing Roland wanted to
think about. Instead he distracted himself by trying to puzzle
together the mystery of his companion's true identity.

Malik
had told Tara before they had left her that he had used his true
name. That meant that Raiste Goldstone was his real name. Sloan had
said while he begged for his life that Raiste had a bounty on his
head of ten thousand gold pieces. Double that, in fact, should he be
captured and brought before Bloodheart alive. However, the weaselly
man had also indicated that it had something to do with Raiste's
childhood, and his father in particular. Raiste had even mentioned
something about a dragon.

With
startling clarity he recalled the tale his companion had told him the
morning of the day before, just after they had entered the city. He
had talked about how a mage with the last name of Goldstone had tried
to change the established order between the powerful rule of the
mages and those who could not use such strong magic, both human and
non-human alike. The other mages had sent a dragon to burn down the
man's home, and kill him and all of his family.

Raiste's
story had also mentioned that some believed that Goldstone's two
children, a boy and a girl, had escaped that night.
Could
his companion really be the long lost son of Fallon Goldstone?
The thought seemed ridiculous, and yet Roland clearly remembered what
had happened to him during the battle with Sloan's soldiers.

Some
extremely powerful magic had been cast on him, he felt certain. It
would make sense that, if Raiste was truly the son of one of the
great mages, he would possess magic every bit as powerful as that
which his father had wielded. Certainly it seemed like the magic that
had been used had been that powerful.

It
would also explain why Raiste hated the mages so fiercely. They had
killed his father, destroyed his home, and had tried to kill him and
his sister. Roland did not know the name of that hidden sister, but
if Raiste had survived that night perhaps his sister had as well. Did
Raiste have her spirited away somewhere, to stay hidden until such
time as her brother could defeat the great mages, and restore her
father's home and honor? Could she also have magic as powerful as her
brother's seemed to be? Would she come out of hiding to help them in
this war that Raiste seemed bent on beginning?

Because
by killing Sloan, a man who worked directly for Bloodheart, he had
quite clearly and loudly declared war against them. Of that Roland
was certain. By killing several of his soldiers and helping Raiste
kill Sloan, Roland had inadvertently declared himself as Raiste's
ally against them. While he didn't agree with the way the mages ran
their world, he did not feel ready to go to war with them over it.
Even with the magic that his companion had shown, he couldn't see how
they could defeat one of the great mages, let alone all of them.

That's
what it would take to end a war with the mages, he believed.
Defeating one would only bring the full power of all the mages
together against them. There was no way they could win.

Now,
it seemed, he had no other choice but to fight them, run, or die.
Raiste, it seemed, felt the same way. For now at least his answer was
to run.

In
all likelihood the mages would have come after Raiste either way, now
that they knew for sure he was alive. The mages had broken their own
rules when they attacked Raiste's father the way they had, if his
companions tale was true. Roland believed it was. He could understand
why they would want such a thing kept secret. Raiste was living proof
of what they had done.

Raiste
quickened his pace once the two of them reached the old city. Roland
felt as if he could feel eyes watching him from the dark interiors of
the buildings around him. He couldn't see anyone, but he was certain
that at least some of those buildings were inhabited, likely by those
that did not have any other homes, or by those men who were wanted by
the city guard, thieves and murderers and the like. Now they watched
Roland and Raiste as they passed, as if they sensed one of their own.

After
what seemed like an eternity they reached the hole in the wall. The
sheet of metal that covered it did so poorly, but it appeared as if
the gap hadn't been discovered yet, for which Roland was thankful.
While he suspected that Sloan had deserved the death he was given, he
could not say that about the guards that he had been forced to kill.
Those men had wives, children, brothers and sisters who would miss
them, and many of those men had only been doing their duty. Many of
them might not have known that the true evil was the man they were
working for.

As
badly as he felt about killing those men, he also realized that he
had been given no other alternative. He had been given a choice
between killing them or being killed himself. He respected the lives
of others, strange when considering the two companions he had fallen
in with, but his sense of self-preservation was far greater. He would
be forced to kill again, he knew without doubt. Ocean's Hand would
act like a beacon to Bloodheart's men, who he knew would soon be
hunting him if they were not already doing so.

Trick
flew down to land on his customary perch on Raiste's shoulder,
chirping rapidly in the man's ear. Roland couldn't be certain, he
never truly understood the dragonling, but to his untrained ear it
sounded as if the small animal was scolding him. If the creature
understood why they were fleeing the city it was perfectly justified.
Roland would scream at the man himself if he thought for even a
moment that it would be of any use.

Slipping
through the gap they made their way south along the wall, following
the same path they had made themselves the day before. In another few
days the narrow trail they followed would almost certainly be
invisible once again, Roland suspected. The land reclaimed itself
quickly if left to its own devices, and the few smugglers who used
this route would surely prefer to keep it that way.

With
the trail already made for them they reached the ancient road they
had traveled before quickly. Of course, Roland already knew that they
wouldn't be traveling along that easy road this time. He doubted it
would have been such an easy road anyway with the horses that Raiste
had asked Tara to get for them. His companion had already mentioned
that the road was unusable by animals pulling a wagon. A horse could
manage it well enough if it was being led, but he knew that Raiste
planned on riding the horses at a fast pace once they met with Tara
again.

They
passed by the road entirely, continuing south. As before, Raiste
seemed to know exactly where they were heading. Exactly where he
planned on meeting Tara on the road Roland was unclear about. Raiste
had only told her to follow the south road, and said she would know
where to go.

Roland
didn't believe that following one of the main roads would be such a
great idea when it was likely that they were being hunted by soldiers
from the city, but he refrained from mentioning it to his companion.
Raiste knew what he was doing far better than Roland did, and if he
thought that speed was more important than stealth in this instance,
he would have to take the man at his word.

The
travel became far more difficult as the continued southward. They no
longer had any sort of a path to follow, but instead forced their way
passed thick ferns and scrawny, tangled tree branches, from many of
which hung thick vines. In more than one place narrow creeks, and
once a larger waterway that Roland could only describe as a bog,
blocked their way, but Raiste continued through it without wavering
in his direction.

Well,
at least he’s not having trouble with the growth,
Roland
thought irritably.

Roland
could have cut his way through the brush with Ocean's Hand, but
Raiste wouldn't allow it. The harder it would be for those who wished
to follow them, the better it would be for the two of them, he
explained with brief, terse words. It was obvious that the man didn't
want to talk, but instead expected to have his instructions followed
without question. For now Roland was inclined to agree, though
explanations would need to come soon.

Tara
will want to hear those explanations as well,
he thought, trying
to choke back the anger welling up inside him.
He
could wait until they meet back up with her to hear them.

He
hoped that the leather clothing he wore might protect him somewhat
against snake bites alligator attacks, but he doubted that such would
be the case. Those reptiles pierced far thicker leather than that
which he wore without difficulty. Still, Raiste refused to changed
his direction, and Roland was forced to follow no matter what terrain
his companion decided to navigate. Pushing away thoughts of what
might lurk in front of them, hidden from their sight beneath the
murky water, he pressed on.

They
traveled for nearly two hours that way before Roland began to hear
sounds coming from somewhere to the west. It took him only a moment
to discern that the sounds were voices. At some point, he realized,
they must have begun paralleling the southern trade road.
Such
a road would be heavily guarded, he knew, and it was entirely
possible that guards would already be looking for them along that
route.

We’ll
have to be cautious.

With
a wordless signal from Raiste, Trick flew off his shoulder and into
the trees above them. What he had been sent to look for exactly
Roland wasn't certain of.

Perhaps
he’s searching for Tara,
he thought.

Roland
knew that the feral woman and Raiste already had a meeting place in
mind, so perhaps Trick was searching for some sign of that location.
Trick might also have been sent to discover how many guards were in
the area. Raiste seemed to understand the creature to a point, Roland
knew, but he still couldn't.

"The
place we will be meeting Tara is about another hour ahead,"
Raiste whispered. "From what I can tell from the way Trick is
acting, the road is crawling with guards. I couldn't say how many of
them, if any, are searching for us, and how many are just protecting
the merchants along the road, but its best for us to stay out of
sight regardless. Try to stay as quiet as you can. If any of them
spot us traveling off the road, they'll certainly suspect us to be
thieves preparing to rob one of the merchants, and that's if we're
lucky. If we aren't so lucky, they'll know exactly who we are. Either
way we need to avoid being spotted."

Now
it was Roland's turn to remained silent. He didn't need to ask
anything, and wasn't ready to talk to his companion just yet. Once
they had met back up with Tara, and Raiste was ready to explain the
purpose behind what had happened in the city, then he would talk.
Until then, he didn't really have anything to say to the man.

The
travel didn't get any easier as they continued. Thankfully they
didn't have any other swamplands to cross after the first; just two
narrow streams that didn't get any deeper than two feet in the
middle. Still, the leather clothing he wore was already wet after the
one they had crossed before, and had already begun to chafe the skin
along the inside of his legs as he walked.

He
wished more than anything for a change of clothes. Anything dry would
be better than what he was wearing now. All of the clothing he had
bought that day, however, was now packed away on the horses that Tara
would be meeting them with. He would just have to try and ignore the
painful blisters that the wet leather caused with each step he took.

Just
as he began to think that he wouldn't be able to take much more,
Raiste turned back eastward, heading away from the road they had been
following. Roland had no other choice but to follow, certain that the
meeting place must be nearby. It would only make sense, he thought,
that Tara would not be meeting them along the road, but instead at
one of the hidden campsites that dotted the land, known only to those
that traveled it regularly. Malik had hinted at just such a location
when he told Tara to meet them. He hadn't gone into any details, but
of course he wouldn’t have to. From their brief exchange,
Roland was certain that Tara would already know those details, and
didn't need to be told.

Fifteen
minutes later his suspicions were confirmed, as the two men stepped
into a small clearing next to a shallow pond. Roland could clearly
see small fish dart along underneath the water. Near the center of
the pond a small turtle, its head no bigger than Roland's thumb,
stuck its head out over the surface to watch them intently. After a
second it must have decided that they were not a threat, for it dived
back under the water again to continue with whatever it had been
doing before they arrived.