gurgling flow of fresh water.
The throbbing in his skull subsided and he sat up.
Throg smiled. "Head better now, laddie? The transmissions
will become easier as you get more of them. It's a good sign. Your link is attempting
to reach you, and he must be strong to do so. Keep quiet a bit now. This particular
part of the river sports some surly types."
They glided on for a couple miles. Throg slowed the boat and
steered to the east bank. A few bugs swarmed nearby and Zach swatted at them. Gnats
kept flying around his head.
Throg whispered, "This is the last place the Meridian Brigade
encamped when I traveled this way the other day. I stopped in and had some chud
and tea with them. The captain's name is Spiro."
Smoke billowed through the air, hugging the treetops. They drew
nearer and viewed flames dancing along the shoreline. Burning tents mixed with the
fishy river—Zach's brow creased.
"Heathens," grumbled Throg.
The boat pulled up to the rocky shore and Throg leapt over the
side and tied the vessel down to a thick bush. The camp had been pillaged. Several
bloody figures dressed in armor lay still.
Zach stood stunned, eyes wide; he'd only seen dead bodies on
television or in video games. Those men in the mud had once been alive. Flies danced
around the mouth of one soldier.
"Stay on the dang boat, Zach. Should I not return soon,
don't come looking for me. Steer the boat straight down the river. Stop before the
Invunche Lake and walk east to the Dorado Path. The course will lead you to Meracuse,
Meridia's capital."
"No, I'm coming with you. I don't know w-where to go. I'd
get lost in these w-woods without y-you."
"Laddie, take a quick peek. Someone slaughtered this brigade.
Meridia is my home. I need to find out who did this, and I'm not bringing you. Understand?"
Zach nodded, but he hated being left alone. He hoped Throg wouldn't
be gone long.
Throg strode into the encampment. Several of the Meridian soldiers
still had their swords holstered. Most of them had been butchered in their sleep.
To the left, a Meridian lay with his throat slit—like a sick, red grin.
Throg forged on through the grim setting. Someone moaned to his
right, and he dashed over to the downed soldier.
The warrior stirred.
Throg turned the man over and put his canteen to the wounded
soldier's lips. The man guzzled, opened his eyes, and looked into Throg's. Death
was in his blue gaze. He had a black mole under his chin and a thick blond beard.
"Y-you are Throg. You w-were here the other d-day."
"Yes, I'm sorry, soldier. I was not present to fight by
your side."
The fallen warrior gurgled, then grasped the canteen and poured
water over his face. Otherwise, he did not move. His left arm was mangled. Slick
blood wept from beneath the plated steel he wore.
"Many of your brigade's weapons were not drawn," Throg
said in a clear, deliberate manner.
"Aye, Throg, it w-was... they w-wore the a-armor of N-Nightlanders.They were as s-silent as l-legend says. That m-means...." The trooper gasped
for air.
"I understand, soldier. Biskara's son. It has begun again."
"Then G-God-speed, dear Th-Throg. Do not let our d-deaths
be in vain. You must w-warn Lord Achernar."
The soldier coughed, a spray of blood coming up. His eyes closed,
and Throg knew it would be for the last time. The body went limp in his arms.
Throg set some chud on the man's breastplate and said a prayer
over the soldier, "May Horologium be your guide and your shield, the truth
seekers your armor, and Eridanus give you wisdom." He unfastened the dead man's
sword and walked back toward the boat.
Grim remorse settled over him. These soldiers were friends of
his. Families would miss them, but he could not spare time to bury any of them.
Nightlanders were in the area. He had to get Zach to safety, and fast. No telling
when a Nightlander might strike.
He approached the craft and Zach's head popped up.
"Who did this?" Zach asked, sounding rattled.
"The Nightlanders. They've
The throbbing in his skull subsided and he sat up.
Throg smiled. "Head better now, laddie? The transmissions
will become easier as you get more of them. It's a good sign. Your link is attempting
to reach you, and he must be strong to do so. Keep quiet a bit now. This particular
part of the river sports some surly types."
They glided on for a couple miles. Throg slowed the boat and
steered to the east bank. A few bugs swarmed nearby and Zach swatted at them. Gnats
kept flying around his head.
Throg whispered, "This is the last place the Meridian Brigade
encamped when I traveled this way the other day. I stopped in and had some chud
and tea with them. The captain's name is Spiro."
Smoke billowed through the air, hugging the treetops. They drew
nearer and viewed flames dancing along the shoreline. Burning tents mixed with the
fishy river—Zach's brow creased.
"Heathens," grumbled Throg.
The boat pulled up to the rocky shore and Throg leapt over the
side and tied the vessel down to a thick bush. The camp had been pillaged. Several
bloody figures dressed in armor lay still.
Zach stood stunned, eyes wide; he'd only seen dead bodies on
television or in video games. Those men in the mud had once been alive. Flies danced
around the mouth of one soldier.
"Stay on the dang boat, Zach. Should I not return soon,
don't come looking for me. Steer the boat straight down the river. Stop before the
Invunche Lake and walk east to the Dorado Path. The course will lead you to Meracuse,
Meridia's capital."
"No, I'm coming with you. I don't know w-where to go. I'd
get lost in these w-woods without y-you."
"Laddie, take a quick peek. Someone slaughtered this brigade.
Meridia is my home. I need to find out who did this, and I'm not bringing you. Understand?"
Zach nodded, but he hated being left alone. He hoped Throg wouldn't
be gone long.
Throg strode into the encampment. Several of the Meridian soldiers
still had their swords holstered. Most of them had been butchered in their sleep.
To the left, a Meridian lay with his throat slit—like a sick, red grin.
Throg forged on through the grim setting. Someone moaned to his
right, and he dashed over to the downed soldier.
The warrior stirred.
Throg turned the man over and put his canteen to the wounded
soldier's lips. The man guzzled, opened his eyes, and looked into Throg's. Death
was in his blue gaze. He had a black mole under his chin and a thick blond beard.
"Y-you are Throg. You w-were here the other d-day."
"Yes, I'm sorry, soldier. I was not present to fight by
your side."
The fallen warrior gurgled, then grasped the canteen and poured
water over his face. Otherwise, he did not move. His left arm was mangled. Slick
blood wept from beneath the plated steel he wore.
"Many of your brigade's weapons were not drawn," Throg
said in a clear, deliberate manner.
"Aye, Throg, it w-was... they w-wore the a-armor of N-Nightlanders.They were as s-silent as l-legend says. That m-means...." The trooper gasped
for air.
"I understand, soldier. Biskara's son. It has begun again."
"Then G-God-speed, dear Th-Throg. Do not let our d-deaths
be in vain. You must w-warn Lord Achernar."
The soldier coughed, a spray of blood coming up. His eyes closed,
and Throg knew it would be for the last time. The body went limp in his arms.
Throg set some chud on the man's breastplate and said a prayer
over the soldier, "May Horologium be your guide and your shield, the truth
seekers your armor, and Eridanus give you wisdom." He unfastened the dead man's
sword and walked back toward the boat.
Grim remorse settled over him. These soldiers were friends of
his. Families would miss them, but he could not spare time to bury any of them.
Nightlanders were in the area. He had to get Zach to safety, and fast. No telling
when a Nightlander might strike.
He approached the craft and Zach's head popped up.
"Who did this?" Zach asked, sounding rattled.
"The Nightlanders. They've
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