A Record of Ash & Ruin: The Grieving Lands

Book 2: Chapter 44: Going for a Ride

Book 2: Chapter 44: Going for a Ride

The Timekeeper Knot bears an esteemed legacy, once utilized by the venerated imperial emissaries. It manifests as a tangible commitment, a sworn obligation to deliver results with all due haste. Woven amid the elegant silk lies a potent toxin, its potency subject to the mastery of skilled alchemists who can manipulate the poison's onset. The recipient of the package or message alone holds the key to the tailored antidote.

In the modern period, the knot persists only as a symbol, its deadly poison a relic of times past.

- The Fanciful Travels by Beron de Laney 376 AC.

After thoroughly searching the local environs for further signs of the monsters, the Guard Master and Laes listened to our report, and judged it to be safe. Well, relatively so, at least. Laes, informed of our encounter with the toads, appeared to be brooding as he swallowed the news. The leader of the caravan ordered us to stop for the evening near the area where we had first encountered the Sandgorgers. Khalam acerbically commented that if the desert-dwelling creatures were this close to the edge of the Wastes, then something might have pushed them out from their usual territory. A worrying thought.

Larynda, however, proved unrelenting in her curiosity about my encounter with these new creatures, bombarding me with a litany of questions, demanding that I recount each detail time and again, as Kidu observed with a contemplative nod.

She also asserted that her newfound magic would prove invaluable in dealing with this threat. Silently, I had weighed her offer, my gaze drawn to her new pet - a Whispermews that quivered in fear at my presence, seeking refuge in the folds of Larynda's attire. In the end, the girl extracted a promise from me that she would be allowed to accompany us on our next outing.

Despite the potential merit of her newfound abilities, I harbored doubts regarding her untested skills. Still, real combat was one of the fastest teachers, and the potential experience gain might foster her growth.

The girl, in my estimation at least, had demonstrated a startling resilience of mind. After all, it was an uncommon occurrence when a child could display scant remorse after taking the lives of men. Perhaps her prior existence on the streets had tempered her resolve, or it might simply be the norm within this harsh realm, for even the young to lead a brutal existence. The Grieving Lands, it seemed, held a penchant for culling the useless and the weak. To her credit, I mused.

Elwin, too, seemed unusually eager. I had taken him for a bit of a coward, which made his newfound enthusiasm all the more puzzling. Perhaps he was looking forward to working out some kinks. Perhaps people really do change. As for Cordelia, she just smiled subserviently, promising to do whatever I commanded, as it was the goddess’s will.

Despite her meek and humble attitude, I always made a point of not holding the woman’s gaze for too long, for her eyes would grip my attention tightly. Compelling in their intensity, their depths were like a lesser version of the goddess herself. The attitude she wore felt like a facade, for her voice held hints of one being used to command, and her expression seemed to always be hiding something far more violent and zealously fierce.

In addition to this, she would hang upon my every word, as if it were gospel. Often, I would catch her repeating something I said or commented upon in passing, as if dedicating it to memory. I found the whole thing a little worrying, yet at the same time flattering. It is not often that one is treated like divinity made flesh.

Instead of the usual group of guards, I thought it best to assemble my own group to range ahead of the caravan to exterminate the rest of the giant frogs. Not only would this boost my esteem further in the eyes of the Ravens, but would, no doubt, help me to advance to even greater heights, as I gained more experience alongside my companions.

I found Laes during the evening meal to broach the idea to him, glad that Khalam, his Guard Master was not around. No doubt that stubborn old goat would find any sort of reason to try to deny me.

“Good evening to you, Master Harevor,” I began respectfully, with a small inclination of my head.

“Master Gilgamesh, to what do I owe this visit? The list of your epic feats grows by the day,” returned Laes, smiling feebly.

“Pray, do tell what they are saying about me now? I was trying to keep a fairly low profile,” I laughed weakly.

“Legends have a habit of growing even when unwatered. My guard tells me that you and you alone overpowered an adult bull Sandgorger by wrestling it down and beating it with your fists. Still others—I think it's that bumbling pair— saythat despite wearing a mountain of steel, you move like a Zlesh viper on the sands. Had I not witnessed the miracles that you so easily dispense, I might have taken these for the typically drunken ramblings of bored men,” the man answered pointedly before he drew a deep breath. “But, in truth, I do not believe you are here to be regaled by tales of your exploits.”

I looked the man in the eye and spoke to him directly. “True indeed, Master Laes. I fear that these monstrous frogs, these Sandgorgers, present a threat that must be dealt with. I would volunteer, if you would allow me, to ride ahead and deal with this menace. I wish to exterminate as many of them as I can. For the good of all, of course.”

“Truly, you are a strange man. But I would not begrudge you this… request, as it would be of direct benefit to me. What would you wish in exchange? Know that I can not afford to pay you anymore. Not if I wish to turn a profit at any rate from this trip,” he sighed, looking a little worn.

“Nothing at all. Cordelia preaches of charity and I have taken a little of her words to heart. I am already in your employ, am I not? Consider this as just me taking up a little initiative,”

The man seemed to have reached a decision as he straightened up and said firmly, “Very well, Gilgamesh. Though truly, I cannot fathom your motive, I feel that you should do as you wish. I see no negatives for the Ravens, and the fewer Sandgorgers along the Green Road, the better for all. Still, I would just ask that you try and stay safe and not underestimate the creatures of the Waste. Old Hamsa would reprimand me mightily if anything were to happen to you. Also, I fear you have yet to see what other manner of beasts make the bleach bone sands their home.”

“If we might also borrow some horses… for I intend to go with my entourage,” I thought to add.

“Yes, of course. Speak to Beastmaster Abas about that tomorrow. I will have a word with him myself. He too sings your praises, did you know? Please remember that horses are expensive. Abas believes the animals of this train to be almost family to him. Also, I fear that we have no mount suitable for your… larger companion… the North man,” the caravan master finished with a long-suffering sigh, as if it were him doing me a favor.

*

The next day we found an Abas Yar much recovered now from his ailments. The Beastmaster was more than accommodating when we found him in the early hours of the morning. Straighter of back, firmer of grip, and keener of eye was the old man, with none of the racking coughs that had plagued him. Bowing to me reverently, he found horses and tack for all of my party. Larynda, however, declared that she would be riding on Patches, causing the donkey to bray enthusiastically, as if in agreement.

The question of Kidu was another matter, for the man was much too large for any of the available horses. He would simply break their backs. The Hunter offered to run, but it was Abas who solved our predicament.

The Beastmaster suggested that his nephew, Pakum, should come with us, with one of the train’s Xaruar. The boy would take the reins of the land dragon and Kidu would sit behind him. I pitied the pair, for the bone armor plates of the creature’s back did not look like the most comfortable of seats. This arrangement, as well as preventing the giant of a man from exhausting himself keeping pace with the horses, would also allow us to carry more baggage. The beast itself, Buttercup, a large male who had been hatched by Pakum, would also intimidate some of the lesser creatures of the Wastes—or at least, so I was told.

Pakum himself was a slip of a youth. I was told that he had seen sixteen summers, and he stood tall for his age, his short chestnut hair mirroring the hue of his eyes. However, the boy's slender form was plagued by the awkwardness of limbs still adjusting to their burgeoning growth. Added to this, his face was, in the manner of many adolescents, a map of the unwelcome encroachment of acne.

Once he heard that we were ranging out to clear the way of Sandgorgers, Paku busied himself in preparation. He gathered wooden torches for our journey and armed himself with a modest sling, a spear, and a light mail shirt.

The boy had none of the callow attitude so common among those of his age; he was quiet, respectful and, more importantly, knowledgeable and competent. Pakum seemed to have a strong bond with the animals, and the large lizard and horses responded well to the boy’s commands. From my initial impression, I surmised that he would be a welcome addition to our forays.

Preparation complete, we set off to kill as many of the creatures as possible.