Remnant: Book of Xiandol Chapter 10

Herzeg warmed his hands with the mug of water heated by the fire. One of the women fanned at it to keep the smoke from rising up against the wind. Bits of cold precipitation had begun to blow their way into the mountainside crevice. Gul returned from his pack with bits of dried ration and sat beside Herzeg.

“We’ve seen nothing so far this way.” He said bluntly.

“There’s still plenty of mountain.”

“And fewer men to traverse it.” The forge-hand responded. “This is becoming unsustainable.”

“How many billets do we have now, both here and back at the riverbed?”

“Forty-seven, last I counted.”

Herzeg counted on his fingers. “Five, maybe six for each of us. Any extras split between you and myself.”

Serinda caught word of the negotiations and joined the two men. “You’re counting the women in, I assume?”

Herzeg studied the mage’s face in the glow of the fire. “Yourself, of course. I mean, this is all your idea.” He lowered his head and spoke just above a whisper. “The others can simply live off what their husbands earn. Most women have no use for coin.”

Serinda huffed and leaned back against the rock behind her. “Do what you think will make everyone happy, that’s what I brought you on for.”

A shuffling of rock from beyond the glow of the fire pulled up Herzeg and several other’s attention. The leader felt at his belt to make sure the short blade was still at the ready. “Good evening,” Carlyle’s voice came their way first before he came up over the outcropping.

Herzeg stood and secured the furs over his shoulders. He studied the plain-looking stranger, as well as the second long-haired man that came to accompany him. “Other travelers out this far?”

“Yes, we happened to notice the glow of your fire,” Carlyle spoke earnestly. “I don’t suppose we could share in its heat?”

Serinda stared at the men as they came closer to the fire and the ring of men about it. She earned a glance from Kensley, who was stuck close to the first stranger. She retreated slightly and took note of where the two men had come from, and if there were others following.

“It can’t hurt.” Herzeg returned to his seat on the rock, still warily holding to his belt. “Unfortunately, that’s about all we can share.”

Carlyle stepped before the fire and warmed his hands. He caught sight of the injured man, with ankle between wooden splints. “Oh, an unfortunate one. No wonder you’ve taken up in some desolate place. What brings you out here?”

Kensley’s eyes flashed about warily. He caught the look of some of the others, who held gazes locked in distrust. Gul spoke up. “Hunting. There’s been a pack of wolves about here, and they’ve gotten a few of our flock already, what few we have.”

“Wolves, this far south?” Carlyle hummed and raised his eyebrows. “A lot of you to just hunt some wolves. And I don’t see any bows about, either.”

Herzeg huffed and scratched at his stomach before standing and waddling off away from the fire, as nonchalantly as possible. Carlyle offered him a glance before returning his attention to the others.

“What about you two?” The forge-hand changed the subject.

“Interesting you ask,” Carlyle answered, counting the men one by one in silence. Including the leader who had walked off, there were four, on top of three women to round off the group. Carlyle shifted back and urged Kensley closer to the fire. “We noticed an old camp back up near the river. We thought something bad might have happened. You weren’t run off by your wolves, by any chance?”

Herzeg approached again, from behind the two of them. “The only wolves would be the ones from the capital.” As he spoke, Kensley jutted back. “Fine horses you have back there, enforcers.”

A few of the others stood and backed away. Serinda stood stiffly at the other side of the fire. Carlyle sighed and felt at his thigh. “We’re going to need to search your belongings. We know what you’ve been up to, and we’re duty-bound to take anything not made under Xiandolan decree.”

“Serinda, might you help them?” Herzeg said pointedly.

“Make this worth my while.” Serinda huffed, conjuring a gust of wind, sending a rush of flames from the fire across the enforcers. Carlyle was able to shield his face from the licks of the flames, while Kensley pulled him back by his arm. The women ducked away from the fight, and some of the men pulled roughly-forged daggers from their belts.

Kensley regained his balance, back to back with the Captain, before he extracted his sword. “Lay down your weapons, or we will use force!”

“Calm your nerves.” Carlyle hushed back. “The worst of the bunch is their mage, and she could have done a lot more already.”

“Leave now, and we’ll spare your lives,” Herzeg directed. “We’ll even allow you one of your horses.”

“Boss,” Gul pleaded, circling back around to Herzeg. “Let’s just give them what they want, and avoid more injuries.” He leaned in close to whisper as they met side-by-side. “Remember, the majority of it is still back at the riverbed.”

“Take, take, take, that’s all Halmalch and his people ever do.” The leader beat nervously on his thigh. “What have they provided us, besides beaten-up tools in return?”

Carlyle shook his head. “The Kingdom’s forges are barren of iron. We have barely enough to outfit our men, let alone provide tools for the people of the land. You’ve been using your mage to aid in the unearthing of the ore, have you? Share with us your methods, and we can both benefit.”

Herzeg sneered. “You say that, with your own partner jutting a fine sword our way?”

“At ease, Kensley.” Carlyle spoke back to the long-haired man, still on edge and posed toward the leader and the forge-hand. His breath was suddenly jolted from his lungs as a rock impacted upon his chest from a woman at the edge of the firelight.

“Just go! Leave us be.”

“We are duty-bound!” Carlyle reiterated, holding his breast.

“We’ve heard!”

Kensley glanced back to the crux in the rock where a collection of packs and tarps were collected, laden with various materials inside. He pushed back and nudged at the supplies with his foot, rolling them open. His eyes darted back and forth toward the others. “Is this where you’re keeping your contraband? Captain, help me.”

“Leave that be!” Herzeg growled. From his waist, he extracted a short dagger and tossed it from between tight fingers out toward Kensley. Carlyle reacted first and moved in front of the blade, where it buried itself into his shoulder.

“Captain!” Kensley cried out, rushing past him to subdue the attacker. Herzeg stepped back over the uneven ground as Kensley thrust his sword outward.

Carlyle held at his arm, before noticing another man coming his way. He dodged the attack of another dagger and took grasp of the man’s arm before tossing him down onto the hard ground with a dull cry.

Kensley swung wildly, disregarding his footing. Herzeg crouched about and grabbed up a stone before lancing it at his attacker. Kensley swung to block the rock. The blade of the sword impacted upon it, causing the base of the sword to crack just above the handle and fall apart. The top of the blade fell to the ground in a clatter.

Carlyle yanked the dagger from his bicep and looked for other attackers. Serinda was across the fire, conjuring again the power between her hands. The captain held his breath and jumped the flickering blaze, shunting the mage, and forcing her arm behind her back. “At first glance, I didn’t suspect you of being of mage blood.”

“What do you know?” Serinda huffed and struggled. She tossed her hair back and glanced to the other men, still fighting. “I’d worry more about your partner than myself.”

Kensley had dropped his broken weapon and had proceeded to try to force Herzeg into submission with kicks and punches. From behind the long-haired man, the forge-hand was preparing a large rock with which to strike him from behind.

Carlyle kicked Gul’s legs out from under him, forcing him to fall hard. Kensley had, in turn, forced Herzeg to a rock, his arm at the man’s neck. “Don’t try and struggle.” Kensley seethed, his breath ragged.

Carlyle pulled his partner away from the now helpless man. “Leave him.”

“But-” Kensley struggled, then relented, looking to the trail of blood coming from Carlyle’s wound.

“Force only begets more force.” The captain declared. He turned back to the pile of supplies and trifled through them with his foot. His eye caught the dull sheen of the uneven bricks of iron. Kensley eyed the others who looked on silently as Carlyle took the hard-earned good up in his side bag. “That shall do. The coming winter is going to make any more work like this unlikely for these folk, I imagine. Come, Kensley.”

The long-haired man huffed and trailed Carlyle out. Herzeg held at his throat and kept place beside the rock. Serinda dashed out after the two enforcers as they began their walk back to the horses.

“Enforcer.” She called out, catching up with them as they were unloading the iron into their packs. “Take me with you. These fools have nothing to offer me now.”

Carlyle looked to Kensley, who warily bit at his lip. The captain glared at her. “How imprudent. We’re headed off to the capital. Are you sure a mage of your sort wishes to end up there?”

“Sir, are you sure?” Kensley said under his breath.

“The capital is indeed my home,” Serinda spoke up, keeping watch over her shoulder. “But not the Sanctum. I beg you.”

Carlyle stepped up upon his horse and looked to the mage, visible only in the slight light of the moon visible through the clouds. He offered a hand down. “Come on. You’re lucky I wasn’t given any direction regarding any magi this time.”

Serinda pursed her lips and stepped up to the animal. “Your kindness is appreciated. There is… they have more billets buried in the bed of the river back at the old camp you found. Herzeg and these awful men do not deserve it. I can show you exactly where it lies.”

Remnant: Book of Sing Chapter 9

The markings of the rushed movement away from the empty campsite dissipated quickly into the desolation of the Xiandolan lowlands. Kensley had examined the mountainside, where the obvious signs of mining and the transportation of rubble still remained. He returned back down to the lowlands to report.

Carlyle was at a section of the riverbed which bore signs of activity. “It’s quite the disturbance, up there.” Kensley detailed, pointing up to the strangely eroded section of mountain face. “They moved and tore apart a wide chunk of that offshoot. The camp didn’t seem like it had that much manpower to pull of something like that.”

Carlyle stood up from the mud of the riverbed. His and Kensley’s horses were nearby, their reins hanging at the front of their chests while they nibbled at the dry grass. “It’s hard to tell how long they were here, especially only seeing the few bits of iron we recaptured from the men back at Rallig.”

“You don’t think they had a mage of some sort with them?”

Carlyle glanced to Kensley with a pondering look. “You think so? Interesting conclusion.” He began, steadying his horse before preparing himself to mount it. “I think they went to the south. We’ll have to cross the river, and it’s best not to tempt getting your boots stuck.”

Kensley mounted the animal and guided it through the sticky mud and cold trickle of the river a little ways behind the captain. The horse examined its hoofs and the bits of old foliage upon the ground as it arrived at the opposite bank. “Maybe they have been here a while, just digging away with chisels and picks.”

“Don’t second guess yourself on my account,” Carlyle spoke back, his eyes trained to the uneven crags of the mountainside. “The Sanctum in the capital is where most of the magi of this land call home. We and the other magi keep track of their numbers fairly well, but… there are always others of mage blood who don’t practice their arts, at least out in the open.”

“They don’t like other magi?”

Carlyle hummed. “Well, it’s more likely they are afraid of being forced to live by the ways of the other magi. The King speaks of having respect for their kind, for both their knowledge and their great power, but many agree that it is better to have them within arm’s reach.”

“We would be of no match to their powers if they were to go against us.”

The captain shrugged. “Perhaps. But you must remember, just the same as we are held to a system of honor, so are they. Threats and the pushing around of one’s weight are not always the best means to an end.”

Kensley sighed and adjusted his grip on the horse’s reins. He carefully shifted his hands about, shielding them one at a time under the opposite arm. The wind began to blow harder, drying the skin upon his face with a stinging cold. He took up the water bladder from the back at his horse’s hip and unplugged it to take a sip. The liquid inside was icy and tasted of the waxy material of the container.

The low light of the evening approached quicker than expected, and the wind had barely given up its beating against their sides as they continued their careful path along the rocky flatlands just at the base of the foothills. Kensley blinked the tiredness from his eyes, only to realize that the haziness about him was the beginnings of a light snowfall.

“Hoo, I thought it was getting colder.” Carlyle hummed, tugging at his vestments and tucking them in around his neckline. Kensley stared up to the sky, where waves of thick clouds were beginning to creep up from the heights of the mountains. Out to the west, the sky was still relatively clear, leaving the streaks of the remaining sunlight to creep back toward them. “How unfortunate. We’d best find a nice sheltered spot to huddle down for the night and light a fire.”

Kensley sighed and looked about. His tired gaze traveled up and down the side of the mountain. A ways back in the direction they had come, there was a distinct orange glow against one of the vertical rock faces. “Carlyle, it seems someone had the same idea if my eyes aren’t tricking me.”

The captain followed Kensley’s pointed finger to the location. “Hmm, good eye.”

“That could be the group we’re looking for.” The long-haired man stressed. “Who else would be all the way out here so close to winter?”

“Obviously not many, but let’s not get hasty.” Carlyle pursed his lips and cupped his hands to his mouth for warmth. His eyes trained to the light while he conjured a plan.

Kensley’s horse shifted back and forth, following the rider’s uneasiness. “Captain?”

“They may be expecting us, but again, likely not.”

“I’m prepared,” Kensley said, patting the sword at his side.

“We’re not likely to need any force, Mr. Kensley,” the captain returned sternly. “If we come upon them unsuspecting, they’ll hopefully remain peaceful. We’ll have to search their belongings for anything we might need to confiscate, and then take note of their identities for future reference. If there are many as their seemed, we’d be helpless to capture any.”

Remnant: Book of Xiandol Chapter 8

Herzeg and his party had crossed the river a ways upstream and then took to the south, following the mountainside. The land was uneven and rocky, forcing the men, heavy packs upon their backs, to traverse the ever-changing slopes. Herzeg continued to keep an eye on the men trailing him, while still looking to the stone crevices and outcroppings for any telltale signs of red staining from surface deposits.

Serinda finally caught up with the leader, supporting her own pack of belongings on one shoulder. “Herzeg, if you don’t stop soon, these men you hired are going to cause an uproar.”

“So let them.” The man huffed back, his breath strained. “They may… turn around and abandon what share of the findings… they had hoped to get.”

“And what if we find nothing else this way?”

“The mountains are vast, Serinda.” Herzeg shouted back. He stopped to brace himself upon a crumbling outcropping, judging the best path down the moist, mossy granite. “If nothing else, we’ll just have to dig deeper.”

“Help!” The call and cry came out from the trailing members of the group. Serinda immediately turned back, her hand to her brow as she looked into the sun. She pranced back over the rocks, returning in the direction of the others. Herzeg huffed and trotted back after her.

One of the workers, one who had been hauling a pack of tools, had slid down a slick patch of rock and fallen upon his back. The women and some of the fellow man had already gathered around him when Serinda arrived. The corner of the burlap had come loose and had allowed some of the supplies to tumble down the rocks below. The man held at his shin, and below it, his ankle was bent at an unnatural angle.

“What’s the hold-up?” Herzeg shouted as he approached. Some of the others were already attempting to pull the fallen man out of the crux of the rocks. The man’s wife was at his legs to help support them.

As the injured man found a place to rest upon flat ground, Serinda joined the woman to assess the wound. “Can’t you heal it, Serinda?” The wife asked.

The mage ran her fingers down the limb. The man winced as her touch made contact with the ankle. “Off! That’s it!” He cried out.

“It’s broken… I’m not certain I can do anything, even to ease the pain.” Serinda shrugged, her lips pursed as she looked to the wife, then to Herzeg. “It’s not an art I have great experience in.”

“Useless magi.” The leader shrugged. “Either be enslaved by the capital’s rule of law, or be left to stay ignorant by exclusion. Listen, Serinda needs to save her energy for our task at hand. Isn’t that right?”

“What are you saying, Herzeg?” The wife spoke up, standing to confront the leader. “How do you suppose we keep moving forward?”

“Boss,” Gul spoke up. “We’re already two men down. Another one out of commission, and we’ll not be able to carry any more haul of iron.”

“If we even manage to get back there.” Another voice called out.

“Split it up among the women.” Herzeg huffed. “Once our rations are all spent, we’ll have the extra space in our packs.”

“It’s unwise to keep moving at this point.” Gul butted in again, crossing his arms. “We won’t have any more light to set up camp in if we want to go any farther. We’re far enough from the river at this point, anyway.”

Herzeg huffed and tossed down his pack. “Fine.”

Serinda sighed a breath of relief and placed a hand on the leader’s shoulder. “A leader has to think of all the people of the group. Thank you for that.”

“Just know that they’re holding you back, as well.”

The others began to support the man and bring him farther up the side of the rocky embankment, to a slight shelter at the back of the ridge. The supplies and bedrolls were deposited down, while Serinda and some of the woman took to arranging a fire for the evening, or dealing with the man’s injury. “Leave some wood out, a couple of flat pieces for a splint.” She directed.

Down from the mountainside, a cold wind blew.

Remnant: Book of Xiandol Chapter 7

After a night of rest in Rallig in the same stable lodgings that the second captain had taken up, Carlyle and Kensley packed up their meager packs of gear once again to begin the search east of the town. The Ebb River that ran parallel to the town would be their guide deeper into the Xiandolan lowlands. The road heading east was less traveled, but the dry dirt made for easier traversing by the horses.

Kensley had been focusing on the trickling flow of the river, and the muddy bed revealed by the low waters. “I wonder how they are doing out by the coast.” He remarked suddenly.

Carlyle glanced back at him. “That’s right, you’re from those parts, aren’t you? The mouth of the Ebb?”

Kensley nodded in response. “I can’t remember when I last saw the river this low.”

Carlyle slowed his horse just slightly, allowing for Kensley to pull up beside him. “It’s been a dry season. Back at the end of the summer, a few of the towns to the south had trouble meeting their quota.”

“What… do you do, then?” Kensley asked, a slight hesitation in his voice.

“Generally, it’s no more than an admonishing. We can’t leave them with fewer stores than they need to survive the winter with. But we also can’t risk the people in the capital going hungry, either. Hmm, next spring, we’ll likely offer them some of our seed stores to help them plant with.”

“I see.”

Carlyle ground his jaw back and forth in thought. “The King- some of the elders, too, from his time would tell you of the struggles they went through before the unification. They say it was every man for himself, with few, if any allies, to reach out to for help.”

“People are selfish,” Kensley said, shrugging. “I mean… it’s a given they want to assure their own survival first, before that of the others.”

“Absolutely.” Carlyle returned with a satisfied nod. “That’s why the job of an enforcer is important. People will take more than their share if they are allowed to do so- oftentimes without realizing it.”

“Back at home… I remember… in times our harvests were poor, we would get supplies from the capital.”

Carlyle nodded and glanced back to the horizon to check their heading. The rhythmic pounding of the horseshoes on the dry mud and grass competed with the silence of the expanse of empty land. The captain finally spoke up again. “One day, it may be you returning home to your people to share with them the Kingdom’s bounty.”

“I doubt I would be recognized.” Kensley shrugged. “From atop a horse, and covered in fine garb.”

Carlyle rolled his head back and forth, before letting out a low chuckle. “Perhaps not. I take it homesickness has not affected you greatly?”

“Each day there… how do you say it… felt like I was simply repeating the same thing day after day. The capital was a relief from that.” Kensley sighed. “I am… thankful you arrived that day to take me away from there.”

Carlyle’s breath caught in his throat while formulating a response. “Well, I knew that from the time I first spoke to you, I suppose- that you had a good head on your shoulders. People like yourself are suited for bigger things, to challenge and be challenged.”

Kensley tugged the reins of his horse and forced it forward with a slight jog. “Though… I think, that if it were that other man to show up that day… I may have thought twice.”

“Mandabus?” Carlyle asked, repeating the name of the captain they had met the day previous. “I might imagine so. Though, don’t take his seriousness as a lack of compassion. He… Mandabus is a very intelligent man, but he forgets that his presence alone is often sufficient. Well, when we return to Rallig, we may see the man he was supposed to seek out.”

Kensley nodded, his shoulders and back tired from the long hours of riding, that day and previous. His eyes followed the length of the riverbed beside them, then finally up to the horizon, dominated by the mountains before them. “Incredible…”

Carlyle glanced at the young man. “Huh? The mountains, you mean?”

“I’ve never been so close…”

“You almost forget about them, especially all the way in Xiandolia.” Carlyle conceded.

“They never looked so impressive, but now…” Kensley hummed, his eyes still pointed off in the distance.

“They are quite grand.”

“What’s beyond them, do you ever wonder?” The long-haired man pondered.

Carlyle clicked his tongue. “An interesting question.” His finger traveled out before them, pointing to a gap between two crooked sections of mountain peak. “A land called Tulefore, the elders say. There’s a meager pass up that way, and another to the south. Not quite safe or convenient for travel, I’ve heard.”

“There are others, on the other side of the range, that is? Towns and cities like our own?”

“Indeed.”

“And they’re like us?”

Carlyle bit at his lip. “Perhaps. Some say it’s a land richer than this one. Greener. The people live more prosperous lives.”

Kensley hummed with a dull tone. “Would it be so difficult to share that prosperity with us?”

“No need to be pessimistic. We do quite well for ourselves.”

“I suppose.”

Carlyle let out a series of short laughs. “Prosperity can also be a measure of how content a people are. It shall be your task as you continue to take on more responsibility to see to the prosperity of our people. Comparing our own to that of some estranged land will do us no good.”

“Yes, sir.”

Carlyle nodded and smiled back to Kensley, before turning his eyes to the path once more. The normal markings left by travelers were all but vacant on the road, leaving behind only rock and thin bunches of dry, yellowed grass. The muddy riverbed reflected the low autumn sun overhead, and the gnats and flies swarmed about around them and the faces of their horses.

Far off in the distance, the bare ground bore strange markings where the earth had been disturbed. Carlyle perked up and glanced to Kensley, who had also taken notice. “Footprints, you see? A lot of them, too.”

“Yes, sir.”

The enforcers slowed their ride forward and kept close watch upon the area, as well as the nearby surrounding of flat, rocky land. As they came upon the marred area, they dismounted and crept closer. The footprints of various sizes and shapes went about the area in vague patterns, some moving back and forth, others leading to the center of the area to the nearby riverbed. In certain spaces remained matted dirt, surrounded by bare pits dug into the ground.

“A fairly big camp,” Kensley spoke up. “They had several shelters laid out, too.”

Carlyle stomped through a patch of gray and black embers and hastily strewn stones from an old fire pit. “They left in a hurry, I would imagine.”

“Sir, what do you make of this?” Kensley spoke up, hovering over a heap of debris closer to the edge of the river.

Carlyle stepped beside Kensley, over the hump of dried and crumbled clay, colored the same earthen shade as the mud from the riverbed. Beside it were crumbled bits of gray slag, partially mixed in with loose dirt from nearby. “No doubt, these are our folks. Looks like they were running a sort of bloomery here.”

“For melting down the metal?”

“Separating the crude iron from whatever stone it was brought in with.” Carlyle stroked the whiskers upon his dry cheeks. His gaze moved about the area, finally traveling up to the low stretches of mountainside nearby. “There are signs of them digging away at the mountain there.” He jutted his nose outward.

“I see,” Kensley commented. “How are they doing so with just a meager amount of men?”

“That,” Carlyle shoved his hands into his pockets, “is something for us to find out.”