Chapter 42: Impossible to Deal with

One single step: that was how far Sehn managed to travel after exiting the dungeons before nearly being hauled right back inside again. A gruff-looking guard led Cah’lia’s group through a series of narrowly winding stairways leading to the surface. Cah’lia took notice of the way Sehn grunted in pain each time he climbed another step, his lips peeling back in a hideous snarl. It worried her. The haughty Elf shouldn’t have been tiring, not from just climbing a few stairs.

They arrived at a reinforced steel-door. The guard bent over, spinning the attached valve and then pushing the door open. Sunlight and fresh air brightened the dark dungeon, and Cah’lia shoved Sehn into the open. One step later, and the guard saluted. “You two are free to go,” he said, addressing Sehn and Allen. “Keep out of trouble, and I won’t have to lock you up again.”

Sehn had always been unpredictable, and it was that very same unpredictability that made him predictable, such was the paradoxical nature of Sehn. It was for this reason, Cah’lia wasn’t overly surprised when he spat in the guard’s face. Angry, yes, but surprised? No.

The guard’s eyes bulged. He ripped off his helmet and threw it to the floor, stomping on it. “Do we have a problem, prisoner?” He wiped the spittle from his face and examined the saliva in his gloved hand, rage forming wrinkled lines across his forehead. “I’m a guard-captain of Hahl’s guardian forces. Apologize right now, or I’ll drag you back inside and leave you to rot.”

Something was off about Sehn, something more than usual. He looked bitter. “Try it, then,” he said. “I am in a vicious mood, guard-captain.” A trickle of sweat fell from Sehn’s hair. His face lacked a bit of color. Cah’lia hadn’t spotted it through the darkness of the dungeon, but out in the daylight Sehn’s paleness was unmistakable

Is he sick? Cah’lia wondered. Or is he…is this just part of him dying?

Cah’lia was at once both proud and revolted when she realized the thoughts brought her no sadness. Her emotions were strong, but her resolve stronger.

“Sehn!” she hissed. “Now is not the time.”

Rebecca remained quiet, keeping an eye on her fool. It was almost comical to Cah’lia—each of them had their own personal fool to deal with. Cah’lia still couldn’t believe her luck at running into the woman. She told her everything, and thankfully, Rebecca was more than willing to play along with the lie about Patrick’s death.

When Shina first arrived, Cah’lia felt relieved over the news of Patrick’s survival, although it was hardly surprising, especially since he traveled with the Elven princess. Thinking back to the few times Saerina displayed her power, it was no wonder Patrick and the rest managed to make it out alive. Shina didn’t know how, of course, or even that there’d been any danger in the first place. The girl said when she showed up there were no scouting parties or enemy soldiers in sight, and that Patrick and the rest were very much unharmed.

Despite her relief, Cah’lia felt guilty every time she saw Sehn agonize over the assumed death of his companions, but she knew she couldn’t tell him. Although Saerina was an odd woman, her reasoning always made sense. Without a doubt, she could’ve stopped Cah’lia and Sehn from separating from the rest of them, and yet for some reason she allowed it. That was a clear enough sign to Cah’lia. Sehn mustn’t learn the truth. Not that she’d have told him, anyway—Cah’lia wanted to be as far from the princes as possible. Even though she saw them as friends, she still didn’t trust either of them, not with everything at stake.

Sehn snapped his head towards Cah’lia, making guttural sounds and sweating profusely. Could the walk up the dungeon’s steps really have exhausted him this much?

“Do not tell me ‘now is not the time,’ Cah’lia. I created time, and thus I would know. And as for you,” he said turning to face the guard. “I am in a particularly miserable mood right now. On your knees, at once! You shall beg for your life, or have it taken from you.”

The guard drew his weapon, and Cah’lia moaned. “Here we go again.”

Before Sehn could reach for his own Elven blade, returned to him only moments earlier, Alan jumped in front of the guard and decked him in the face, sending him sprawling backward into the dungeon. The guard cried in pain as he rolled down the dungeon steps, disappearing into the darkness.

So, Alan’s not a complete idiot after all, Cah’lia thought. Sehn is in no condition to fight.

Cah’lia assumed Rebecca told everything to Alan, filling him in on the situation, probably during the time she separated to chat with Sehn.

“Excellent work, disciple!” Sehn cheered. “Normally, I’d have you hung for stealing the Great Sehn’s victory, but as my disciple you are entitled to have a few glorious moments of your own. Be warned though, mortal, the next ten fights belong to me.”

Alan wore a toothy grin and saluted. “You got it, Great Sehn!” It was obviously a fake grin, but Sehn wouldn’t notice. Even a passing look into the commander’s eyes showed a forming sternness. Until recently Alan’s expression had been lazy and filled with mirth, but it appeared his sense of duty brought out the rigidness in him.

Cah’lia grabbed Sehn by the arm and dragged him away from the dungeons. He was breathing heavier than he should’ve been for a brisk walk, and even Rebecca and Alan—people who didn’t know him well—gave confused looks at his heaving chest. She needed to get him to an inn where he could rest.

Luckily, the mayor had still given Cah’lia the aid she required, along with a few coins to spare. It was nowhere near what it would’ve been if they pulled off their charade, but at the very least Cah’lia would be able to depart Hahl with horses, food, and the money for future provisions secured.

Cah’lia turned the corner on a wide street into a wider one, two-way traffic of horse-drawn carriages forced them to walk carefully, and wait their turn to cross the street. They were in central Hahl, a place filled with lavish courtyards, gardens, and inns. Tourists spent the majority of their time here, taking in the sights of the city and providing commerce for the citizens. There were at least four inns on each street. Cah’lia picked one at random.

“Here’s what we’ll do,” she began. “We’ll rest here for one night, and then tomorrow we’ll…H-hey! Sehn, listen to me when I’m speaking to you! W-what do you think you’re doing. Gods, Sehn, that’s so disgusting!”

Rebecca clenched her fist and caressed it against her temple. “Alan. What are you two doing? You’re embarrassing us. Get back here.”

Cah’lia bit her lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. Sehn and Alan were ten feet away, standing in front of a statue of Raurum, God of perseverance. The statue centered in a circular marble-floored section, surrounded by a ring of shrubs on a bed of grass. Much like all Gods and Goddesses, male or female, the statue depicted the God naked, a testament to innocence. Sehn and Alan took turns pointing at its lower region, laughing like fools. Their giggling voices sounded oddly like a child’s.

“L-look at it!” Sehn laughed. “It curves!”

Alan bent backward at the waist, pointing along with him. “Haha! So, this is a God-Penis?”

Sehn shook his head. “No,” he said. “It doesn’t look anything at all like mine. At least I don’t think it does. Let me see.”

Cah’lia jumped over the nearest shrub and slapped at Sehn’s hands, which were fumbling around the waist of his pants. “Don’t. Even. Think about it. I take my eyes off you idiots for one second, and you’re off staring at God-Penises!”

“Silence, Cah’lia! We are merely having a laugh at its expense. Be gone, or I shall break it off and hit you with it. Hah! I bet—”

She grabbed him by the throat. Sehn croaked, interrupting whatever he was going to say, and Cah’lia was glad for it, too. While choking him she noticed he was no longer pale, his face returned to its normal tan color. She felt relieved. Exhaling, she allowed him to break free.

So, maybe he was just sick after all, she thought. Or maybe it was just being in that dungeon all night. I’m sure that’s all it was.

“Let’s go, Sehn. I won’t ask you again.”

Sehn spat on the ground, following Cah’lia out of the shrine and back into the street, Alan tailing them from behind. Across the street, Cah’lia spotted a stretch of four inns, each looking decent enough. The third one, a blue and red brick building called “Traveler’s delight,” would be as good a place as any to spend the night.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” Cah’lia said. “It’s still very early. We’ll enjoy the day in Hahl, do a bit of shopping, and then tomorrow morning we’ll leave.”

Rebecca approached Cah’lia and pulled her in for a friendly embrace. “I take it you have things under control here, Cah’lia? I can handle my moron alone from here on out.”

“And I can handle mine. I hope we will meet again, and I hope the best for you both. Somehow I have a feeling it’s best to keep Alan and Sehn away from each other.”

Rebecca laughed. “You don’t say.” She put an arm around her superior’s shoulders, the very man whose orders she was supposed to be following. “Come on, you old idiot. How would you like it if I bought you a drink?”

Alan’s eyebrows rose. He stood on his toes and clapped. “Wow, you’re going to buy me two drinks? Ah, thanks, Rebecca!”

“I said one drink,” she growled. Cah’lia overheard them bicker until Rebecca pulled Alan out of sight.

Sehn tried to wander off within seconds, following in their direction. “Sehn!” Cah’lia shouted. “If I have to put a collar on you I will. Get back here.” The idiot actually seemed to think he could follow his new friend, and that Cah’lia would allow it.

He turned around obediently and stood next to her. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll help you check in at the inn, but then I shall roam the city and find my own fun.”

“No. If you want to go exploring that’s fine, but we’re staying together.”

“How dare you command me! The Great Sehn explores wherever his heart desires!”

“Not anymore, you don’t. Gods, I’m in no mood for this. You know you can’t be trusted alone.”

“Oh, and why’s that, Foo’lia?”

“Because if I let you go off alone, you’ll probably end up blowing something up, or starting a fight with a water fountain—don’t interrupt me! I saw you do that once, Sehn.”

He reluctantly agreed to follow, but Cah’lia wasn’t taking any chances. She grabbed his hand and held it firmly. At once, she realized what a mistake it was. The moment their fingers interlocked, Cah’lia felt the warmth surround her palm, and she struggled not to look Sehn in the eyes. Oddly, he didn’t say anything in protest, content to walk quietly beside her, all the while holding her as tightly as she held him. Cah’lia experimented by loosening the grip, to see if he’d try and escape. His only response was to grip her hand tighter.

The inn was beautiful, and right away Cah’lia knew it would cost more than she wanted to spend. The main entrance had colorful carpets, with artistic designs of various sea creatures. The walls were covered with paintings of kings past and present, and furniture and seating areas were in abundance. Before Cah’lia could approach the innkeeper, she paused, hearing a familiar voice from behind her.

“Mistress Cah’lia, Mistress Cah’lia!”

Cah’lia spun at the sound of Rina’s voice. “Rina? How did you find us here? We were actually going to come looking for you.”

The little Human looked alarmed, and she continually glanced at Sehn, and then back to Cah’lia. “Rina has things she wants to say, but she can’t say them to you right now.”

“Things? Rina, what’s wrong? Where are Wolly and Shina, and my brother?”

The question was soon answered. Shina and Nero trotted into the Inn, followed closely behind by a panting, gasping Wolly. “To,” he panted. “To much,” he breathed. “It be too much walking for one day.” The dwarf crawled over to a nearby couch, drenched with sweat. He plopped down and closed his eyes.

“What’s going on around here?” Cah’lia asked.

Shina did the same as Rina, throwing cautionary glances at Sehn. She looked behind her at Nero as well.

Is there something they’re not supposed to know? Cah’lia wondered. Is that why no one’s telling me anything? It must be.

Cah’lia raised her voice. “Sehn, Nero, I’ve got something for you two.” That caught their attention. Nero marched forward the same time as Sehn, a pleading look in both of their eyes.

“It’s money, isn’t it?” Sehn said licking his lips. “I demand you give none of it to Nero, all goes to your God-King.”

“But Sehn,” Nero moaned. “I want Cah’lia’s money too!”

“Silence, Nero! You shall receive ten Elvens of it, and you will be grateful for even that much.”

Cah’lia was in no mood for their childish bickering. The mayor, while not overly generous, had at least provided her with enough money to keep things in order. She handed each of them a relatively equal amount. She gave her brother five hundred Elvens, and Sehn five hundred and one. She knew it was the only way of keeping peace. They were gone an instant later.

Shina and Rina approached, waiting until Sehn and Nero cleared the inn door before speaking. “Let me tell her,” Shina said. Rina nodded.

“Rina has just stumbled into someone.” Shina pulled Cah’lia close—the young Elven girl’s face was a mask of determination. “Patrick and Saerina,” she finished in a whisper.

Cah’lia straightened. She looked around to ensure no one was within earshot. There were only a few guests in the inn lobby, and none seemed to be paying them any mind. One played a few games of chance at a nearby table, while another young woman booked a room for her small family.

“What is it?” Cah’lia whispered.

Shina told her what happened. Rina spotted and chased down Patrick, and she in turn gave the message to Shina. “You don’t have to be a genius to know what this means,” Shina whispered. “The army is on the march to Hahl, and they’ll be here soon.”

Cah’lia filled with apprehension. She didn’t have to think long on what course to take, there was only one option. “We need to find those two and leave. Damn it all, we can’t get a break. I want us out of Hahl within the hour. Rina, you did very well, and I’m very proud of you.”

Rina’s face brightened, an innocent smile forming across her lips. “Rina is happy Mistress Cah’lia is proud of her.”

*******

“Damn,” Sehn muttered. “How did we manage to spend a thousand Elvens just like that? I blame you, Nero.”

Nero pouted. It was a disrespectful gesture Sehn would discipline him for later. “It’s not my fault. You said we’d win for sure.”

Sehn wanted to break something, he was miserable. They were inside of a vast stadium not far from the center of Hahl. There were rows of seats, extending as high up as some buildings. Horses raced around the center track, and bets would be placed on the winner. None of this was Sehn’s fault, though. He’d been tricked.

“You agreed with me, fool!”

“Well, I thought we were being smart.”

The plan was simple. Bet on the weakest-looking animal. Sehn figured the Humans would dress up one of the horses to look weak, so that people wouldn’t bet on it, and the few who did would become rich. Apparently, things didn’t work like that as the horse not only came in last, but it actually died in the middle of the race.

“Do you have any more money, Nero? The Great Sehn demands more entertainment!”

Nero emptied the pockets of his woolen trousers, exposing nothing but lint. “I’ve got nothing.” He bolted up from the stadium seat. “I’m gonna go look for something else to do!”

Sehn grabbed him by the shoulder the moment he tried to run off. “Fool, what did I tell you about running off alone? Not that I care or anything, but your sister would annoy me if I let you get lost.”

He tried to conceal the agonizing pain creeping into his back from the sudden movement. Something was going wrong with him, and Sehn was becoming more confused with each passing day. At first, he thought it was simply his body testing him, making him prove he was worthy of it. But it was getting worse, and worse, and on some days, Sehn struggled just to breathe.

There was a loud whistle, and another series of horses took off, running around the track while the crowd cheered from all around. Sehn climbed the steps leading out of the stadium, glancing over his shoulders to ensure Nero was following. Each time his foot landed on another elevated step, a shooting pain entered his knee and Sehn struggled to remain on his feet.

I’m fine, he told himself. Nothing hurts the Great Sehn!

******

Ghell grew agitated, it was almost time. His force would arrive at Hahl by sunrise the next morning. The sound of marching soldiers, stamping horses, and clinking armor drove him forward. He looked behind him at the legion of men under his command. Sixteen thousand men, ready to die at his word.

“Halt!” he cried.

Any farther, and the Kingdom would see his advance. He’d rest the men until sunrise, and then come early morning he’d begin the assault. In all honesty Ghell only needed half the men he’d been given. The Kingdom would never expect him to attack Hahl. By all accounts, they should believe him to be heading towards the Kingdom’s capital city. Still, it never hurt to be careful. If for some reason the kingdom caught wind of his troop movements and prepared some form of defense, his men would be more than capable of handling them.

And to think, this is only a part of the man’s army, the piece he’s entrusted to me.

He leaped off his mount, deciding to check on his champion. He knew he was being overly cautious, but in the worst case scenario, the man would be needed to turn the tables. Ghell didn’t know where their glorious leader found such a beast, but he was grateful for it.

He was in his cage, where he always was. Ghell looked on him with awe—his eyes alone sent shivers down Ghell’s spine. The man could break out of the cage with ease if he wanted, which made Ghell wonder why they even locked him up in the first place. Though, from everything Ghell had seen, the caged-man seemed to enjoy staying inside.

“You’re awake, I see,” Ghell said. “How are you feeling?”

The champion’s eyes were closed, but Ghell knew from his rapid breathing he was merely meditating. His eyes opened slowly, revealing the cat-like slits that glowed with such burning rage and intensity. Yet there was a slyness too it, a disturbing intelligence that forced respect into Ghell’s voice whenever he spoke to the man.

“I…desire battle,” he whispered. “I’m going to kill him. He will come to face me, I have seen it.” A smile formed on the champion’s lips. “His blade and mine, clashing together. It will be glorious.”

Ghell shrugged, the man’s words never made any sense. “Kill who? You know what, it doesn’t even matter. As long as you’re in good health you can ramble all you want.”

“My health is just fine.”

“I can let you out of the cage if ya want. It’s really not a big deal.”

“I am fine, thank you. As you were, commander Ghell.”

Ghell felt like slapping the champion in the face for his show of arrogant disrespect, but thought the better of it. The champion was intimidating, and Ghell knew on an instinctual level that commander or not, the champion would rip out Ghell’s intestines and coil them around his neck. It was strange, because the champion was a scrawny man, with a body that was the opposite of intimidating. Yet, all it took was a single glance into his thunderous eyes, and Ghell wanted to flee for his life.

“First Lieutenant!” Ghell called.

A young boy, no older than seventeen by the look of his slowly growing stubble, rushed to stand beside Ghell. “Yes, sir?”

“Have the men rest the remainder of the day, and give them wine. I want them to enjoy the night before battle.”

“As you command, sir.”

Ghell had his tent erected and he unrolled his area-maps on top of his mobile command-desk. He laid out the maps, the same way he did every time they halted for the night, always looking for some type of advantage, something he could use. It always came to the same end.

Hahl was a well defended city, with no weak points to be found anywhere, no holes in the defenses, or tactful points of entry. A modest number of heavily fortified archer towers spread around the city at equally distant points. Between the spikes, the burning oil, and the other perilous defenses the city issued, Ghell was glad to have such a tremendous force under his command.

“Tomorrow,” he whispered. “Tomorrow, I prove my worth.”

*****

Rillith looked at the Drashian boy with pride. They’d only been together a few days, but already he’d taken a liking to him. Kellar stood on a podium in the small town’s square, answering questions as they were asked.

“Is it true?” an old woman asked, leaning on her pitchfork. “Was it you who done saved the children, you and that other one, with the lightning? Me grandson’s been going on about that nonstop since he heard it.”

“It’s all true,” Kellar announced. There were whispers from all four hundred people in the gathered crowd, all assembled to hear what the boy had to say.

“It’s also true,” he continued. “That their village was one of the lucky ones. Many of the Kingdom’s villages have been destroyed, many children slain. Some of them were infants. Your Kingdom needs you to defend it! Please, I beg of you, gather together all of your able-bodied men and join those I have brought with me. Or it could be your homes that are burned to the ground next time.”

Rillith was thoroughly impressed with the mage-in-training, or whatever title he held. Already they’d rounded up six hundred additional soldiers from the neighboring towns around Hahl, far more than Patrick estimated. This was the final stop, and from the looks of things, it would be worth it. Already men were raising their hands, shouting their loyalties to Prince Patrick and the throne.

When the crowd parted, Rillith approached the boy. “Did I do well, Rillith?”

“Aye, you did, boy. We’ve got seven hundred men in total, all waiting for your command.”

“My command?”

“You’ll be leading them, they trust you.”

“But as a mage of the order, ah, I mean mage in training, umm, I can’t participate in any wars.”

Rillith gave him a pat on the back. “You already have, boy. You already have.”

Rillith mounted his horse and rode with Kellar to the edge of town. The men were assembled in twenty rows of thirty five, each with crudely fashioned weapons and armor. Anything would do, though, anything at all to slow down the enemy’s pursuit. Rillith was not an emotional man, he did not believe in crying. But as he thought of the men whose lives he’d be blatantly sacrificing—the men would die for sure—the children who’d be fatherless, and all for the sake of a city he couldn’t save, his eyes grew moist and he swallowed his pride.

“Come, Kellar,” he said. “It’s long past time we returned to Hahl.”

Kellar nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”