We found the ‘infirmary’ two streets back from the wall. Several doors down, a heavy contingent of guards surrounded the property and I guessed that to be the ‘prison’. Thomas paused outside, the men shuffling awkwardly, unable to convey their sorrow. Summoning his inner strength, Thomas seemed to grow a few inches and the look of pain was replaced with surety.

“Come,” he said, striding inside.

The building had once housed some form of spice emporium. I could see the ingrained circles of the missing barrels lining the entire length of the room. The pleasant smell of the exotic herbs was undermined the pervasive smell of gangrene and death. There was none of the surgical sterility of my world in this time. Hungry spiders hung from their webs above the dying soldiers. Puddles of blood were washed away between the generous gaps in the floorboards. Flies buzzed all around, promising a new generation of maggots to any wound left open. In short, it was bloody awful. Rows of small bunks had replaced the barrels, their contents far less valuable than the previous placeholder. Two of the bodies had been covered, the blood staining through the fabric near the heads, leaving little doubt as to the cause of their passing. One figure remained, deep in the shadows. A series of candles hung all around him, barely peeling back the gloom. Even from my position and meagre light I could see he was deathly pale and coated in sweat.

“Please forgive the bodies of my men. They’ll be taken for burial after the exchange.”

“Is that your brother?” I asked needlessly.

“Indeed. His name is Marcus. Come, please. He may be unconscious, but I pray he might hear or feel your presence and draw strength from it.”

I tried my best to ignore the outlines of the crimson shrouds as we passed the fallen. My entire existence moving forward was going to be one of death, so two more bodies was the least of my worries.

Thomas took up his brother’s hand. “Marcus, can you hear me?”

I joined him at the bedside and recoiled at the smell. The poor kid had soiled himself recently and no one was around to clean up after him. The mortal wound was located around the chest, judging by the spread of blood and the pool gathered beneath the canvas cot. “What happened?”

“An ogre’s axe. The breastplate was like paper to the brute’s power.”

Sun was keeping a respectable distance. I think she felt guilty seeing the results of her people’s fall from grace. I could also see the line of her jaw bulge as the anger built inside like a pressure cooker. I’d need that in the coming hours.

“Thomas, would you mind if I just sat with him for a few minutes?” I asked.

“To pay your respects?”

I nodded.

“I’d be honoured. So too would Marcus. I’ll be outside when you are done.” He leaned in and kissed his brother’s pallid cheek. “Give mother and father a hug for me when you see them.” The stoicism broke and he turned away from us, tears flowing freely.

I took a nearby chair and sat beside the wounded youth. I guessed his age to be seventeen or eighteen, but I was no expert and the severity of his injuries had aged him somewhat.

“Are you going to do what I think you’re going to do?” asked Sun, suddenly at my shoulder.

“It’s worth a shot, surely?” I replied.

“If it fails, it’s a waste.”

“I know, but I’m going to try anyway.”

Marcus’s health bar was flashing, perilously close to empty. I estimated the time he had left to be less than half an hour. I combined two health potions into a medium version and summoned it into my hand. “Hold his head, please.”

Sun knelt beside him and gently eased him up. I popped the lid and the smell was exactly as the description noted. That is, rank. Marcus’s mouth hung open, so I tipped a small measure in and waited while Sun angled the head to help it move to his throat.

“Swallow it, mate,” I urged, as the pale green liquid gathered. It must’ve tickled his tonsils and he half coughed, half choked, taking some of it down and coating me with the rest. Marcus’s eyes flickered open, seeing nothing in their fever. “Just a little more,” I said, tipping the bottle back. This time he gulped it down, though it took a Herculean effort. I emptied the last dregs into his mouth and Sun laid him back.

“It might not work on people that aren’t like you. Like us,” she warned.

I was rapt on the unmoving boy. His breathing remained shallow and the coughing had broken some of the clotting in his wound. Fresh blood darkened the blanket and I slumped back in defeat and closed my eyes. Damnit! I was so sure that it would work.

Sun squeezed my shoulder. “It must just be linked to… wait!”

My eyes snapped open. “What?”

“Look,” she marvelled, pointing.

There was movement below the wet blanket, and it took all my nerve to peel it back. The remnants of the deep cleft were bad enough. I saw the fleshy edges of severed muscle and shattered ribs, but only for a few moments as the two sides knitted back into a complete chest once again. The deathly pale visage turned a slightly healthier shade of pink. Marcus’s laboured breathing became stronger as the lungs drew in full measures of air. He was still out for the count, though his health bar was now almost full.

“I can’t believe it worked,” I said, rubbing at my face.

“You’re a good man, Mark. A hopeless fool, but a good man.”

“What kind of person would I be if I didn’t try and make things better?”

“A sensible person,” she replied. “You can’t carry the weight of the world.”

I almost laughed. That was precisely my burden, though, and I would carry it wherever it took me. Which right now was out into the street and down into the cellar to see the prisoners.

Thomas clanked back through the doors having regained his composure. I held my euphoria down, remaining mournful as he approached. It was so bloody hard not to smile and even Sun had to turn away to hide her glee. The commander took it as sadness and reached up to pat her shoulder as he passed. Their disparate heights made the gesture almost comical and it nearly finished me off. I could barely contain myself as he slowly approached the bed for what he assumed might be the final time. I heard his breath catch and the scuff of his boot as he came up short.

“What?” he asked of no one in particular. “How?”

I shrugged. “He seems ok. A bit of rest and he’ll be on his feet in no time. I think you might’ve misjudged his condition.”

Unsteady hands gingerly peeled back the saturated blanket and Thomas gasped.

“Damned fine blacksmithing I guess?” I said. “The breastplate was obviously solid.”

Without saying a word, he moved to a bench and tossed back another sheet, revealing the armour. He lifted it up and peered at me through the long, inward facing gouge. It looked like a giant had started to dig in with a can opener and been called away before completing the task.

“I think that was someone else’s,” I said.

Marcus coughed and tried to sit up. Thomas’s emotional dam broke and he flung the armour across the room, running to his brother.

“Water,” Marcus rasped.

I pulled a bottle from my inventory out of sight and passed it over. The two siblings rocked in each other’s arms, Thomas acting as the nurse, helping with the drink. I glanced at Sun and cocked my head back at the entrance. She nodded and we made ourselves scarce. Faces were peering in through the open door, trying to make out what was happening.

“He’s a bit beaten up, but he’ll be ok,” I told them as I pushed gently through the throng. They did a passable job of concealing their disbelief and fear while recoiling from my new smell caused by the spat potion.

I took a deep breath, grateful to be away from the stench of rot and death, though the troll aphrodisiac was almost as bad as it dripped from my clothes. The sea breeze had cleared the air now that the fires had been quenched. If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine I was standing on Brighton pier, deciding between a double scoop of mint-choc-chip or bubble-gum flavoured ice cream. Ok, so my tastebuds were a bit eclectic. It wasn’t a crime. If I’d mixed them, however…?

The achievement tab pinged and without anything to currently do, I opened it up.

Achievement Unlocked – O Brother, Where Art Thou?

Description – You have saved the last living relative of Thomas Sterwick. If we had the ability to experience emotions, that reunion would have had us blubbing. But we don’t. So we aren’t. It’s just a bit of dust in our eyes.

Reward – 10 minor healing potions

+ 10 Realm Points

I was racking up the realm points and growing more frustrated with the lack of an obvious use. The icon was still greyed out and unable to be selected. My thoughts were nudging towards a town construction or something along those lines. I was getting regular equipment drops. My inventory was increasing by the hour, and my levels were slowly climbing after the splurge of early increases. It said realm, as in the whole realm, and I was baffled what else it could be. The not knowing was almost killing me. With a grunt of dissatisfaction, I put it out of my mind.

I motioned for Sun to join me away from the soldiers. “I needed to ask you something. You spoke about your people’s sorcerers before, shamans, witches, that kind of thing.”

“What of it?”

“You said they were fakers, charlatans, handy with some ground up herbs and clever talk.”

She couldn’t understand where I was going with the questions. “So?”

“As much as you don’t believe in their mysticism, do your people?”

“Completely.”

“Completely as in fear the omens, don’t want to anger the gods type of completely?” I asked.

Sun nodded. “They know if they displease the gods they will never walk in the Halls of Gundar. Daulf has managed to convince them that this is the way. His Völva is wily and can make men ill if they anger her.”

I was sure the name was the same as that used by the Vikings, but I’d already decided to leave that quirk in the system alone. I wanted to know more about her powers. “Ill, how?”

“Vomiting and shitting their britches,” Sun replied with distaste.

“But she could just poison their food and do that. Does she not have any spells? Any special abilities like the sorcerers?”

“The mastering of spellcasting has been limited to the humans for a thousand years or more.”

“Interesting…” I mused. “Will she be with him?”

“They normally stay in their caves, but in these strange days, anything is possible.”

“Stop with the lollygagging!” Thomas barked as he left the infirmary. “He’ll be up and about in no time, you can talk to him then!” The stern gaze softened as he passed the soldiers who frantically returned to duty, a new spring in their step. “I don’t know the how of it, but I thank you, Mark.” He grabbed me in a hug and just as quickly let me go. “Mother and father were lost when the west fell. Marcus and myself are all that remain of our family. When the war broke out, our posting kept us well away from the worst of it, which was hard on us both. Truth be told, I think we’d have rather have gone down fighting for my town with our parents, but that’s in the past. Now here I stand, a teenage watch commander for a bunch of children who look to me for guidance.”

“And you’ve given it to them. They still hold the port.”

“Because the barbarians allow it,” he countered.

“Possibly. But you still fight when others would’ve fled, so don’t be so hard on yourself.”

He smiled wanly and beckoned us towards the makeshift prison. “We had to use the fish house as it’s the only place with a cellar big enough to house the ogres. Are you sure you want to go in there? The ice has melted long ago and the smell is quite pungent.”

“Yeah. I need to see something quickly. I’ll be two minutes, tops.”

“Shall I come with you?” asked Sun, readying her weapons.

“I’ll be fine. I kind of want to go alone and see what’s going on down there.”

“It’s your funeral,” she replied.

“I don’t want a burial at sea!” I informed her as I passed into the vastly more heavily guarded building.

“You’ll get what you’re given. I might even feed you to Fen,” she called after me. “At least you’ll be useful.”

“Bitch!” I called back with my best catty voice.