Runespeaker

Chapter Six

The trees loomed overhead, watching Agdir as if waiting to grab him in their clawed limbs and devour him. And perhaps they were. After all, he didn't know where Vorin's strange servants were, and, worse yet, he didn't know where he was. When he'd fled from the attack on his company, he'd been aware of only two directions: toward the massacre and away from it. He'd picked the latter with no real thought to any finer details. Now, of course, he regretted that decision, but it had been the only logical choice at the time.

He'd been walking now for either hours or days; he wasn't entirely certain which anymore. Had he noticed the sun going up and down? He couldn't say. It was all a blur of snow and shadow, really.

At times, the wind seemed to whisper strange things. Worse, he thought he'd heard it speak his own name once or twice. Around him, the leafless limbs of the skeletal trees chattered incessantly. His feet swooshed through the snow, and he sometimes mistook the sound of his own steps for those of someone else nearby—someone looking to return him to Vorin's castle, which he guessed he was never supposed to have left.

Agdir stopped walking. He wondered if spellmakers ever got lost, or if they had some sort of spell to show them where they were. The swoosh, swoosh, swoosh of his footsteps continued in his ears. After so long walking, he must have grown so used to the sound that even its cessation didn't end it. He furrowed his eyebrows. No. The sound wasn't just in his head.

He drew his sword and unstrapped his shield from his back. He looked about frantically. "Who's there?" he shouted, but no answer came.

Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, swoosh...

The sound drew closer.

Shield raised, sword ready to strike, Agdir ventured another shout. "Come on, you coward! Kill me, if that's what you want. Fight me like a man!"

Still no answer.

"Come on!"

Then, at last, came a response. "Agdir?" It was a woman's voice—a harsh alto.

As the woman stepped out of the gloom, the snow, and the darkness which had obscured her and at last came into view, Agdir lowered his shield. "Brinna?"

"Agdir," Brinna said, coming closer. "Thank the gods."

Agdir sheathed his sword and tied his shield once more to his back. She came closer to him, and they embraced. He'd forgotten what warmth was.

When she let go of him, he took a hard look at her thin, pallid face. "Tell me I'm not insane," Agdir said. "You saw what I saw, yes?"

Brinna nodded. "He was a spellmaker, and his army did not serve him willingly."

"Was?"

"Is. Sorry. Is."

"Any idea where we are?"

"South of the castle, more or less," Brinna said. "You got lost?"

"Aye," said Agdir. "When I ran..." His voice trailed off.

"I ran too, Agdir. Nothing to be ashamed of. We all tried to get away. You and I were just luckier than the rest."

"Lucky..."

"When you ran, you didn't pay attention to where you were going," Brinna finished for him, guiding the conversation away from the fact that they'd left their comrades to die.

Agdir nodded, and Brinna laughed. It was a morbid laugh, but a laugh nonetheless "Well, you're one lucky man. You went the right way. If you'd kept going straight, you'd have wound up in that village where we resupplied ourselves at the foot of the mountain."

"I guess I am lucky, then." He was quiet for a moment. "I really am glad to see you, Brinna."

"And I'm glad to see you."

"I suppose we're off to Ril, then?" Agdir said. The city of Ril was well-known for drawing in mercenary captains, so he and Brinna could hope to find new employment there.

"I guess so," Brinna said. She smiled. "And I guess I'll lead, since you've already gotten lost once."

They started their journey down the mountain, the trees seeming to watch them as they went. The wind's soft whispering continued, like the voice of a seer foretelling a dark future. And perhaps that's just what it was.