Borne of Fire

Chapter 34

Randyl sighed and ran a hand across his frustrated brow, looking around one final time.

"Very well. You're right. Let's get back to McSween." He said reluctantly.

"Then what Rand?" Braxter asked as the four of them turned and walked along the road in the direction of McSweens.

"Then we gather our things and tomorrow we head for Boreham, our army waits us there." He spoke confidently at first but then added under his breath, "Otherwise we are undone before we have even begun."

On returning to McSweens place they found things much the same as the day previous - he was locked in his workshop, from which he spoke to them again only through a closed door. Once more they told him of the villagers point blank denial of any external problems and probed further as to his progress with the Ulrogg weapon.

"Ahh...ahhh...yes, yes...aahh, nothing new to report...erm...just yet. No, nothing new here." He stammered through the closed door. L'non and Randyl looked at one another, neither of them having any idea what their friend could have been doing with the weapon for nearly two whole days to not know anything else about it, but also surprised that at least this time they managed to coax a sentence out of him.

"Well, should you need anything..." L'non began.

"Yes, I'll shout you, yes I know." McSween snapped back.

L'non gave a shrug and turned away from the door to face Braxter and Ja'aris who were drinking from their canteens in McSweens kitchen.

"I suggest we pack our things and rest up here, then leave at first light." He turned to face Braxter specifically. "It is many day's travel to Boreham with not many places to rest between here and there."

Braxter nodded his understanding and began to gather his few things together.

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed in a somber mood with Braxter in the yard behind McSweens house being instructed by Ja'aris in the art of basic blade combat.

They had no such luxury as a wooden practice blade and although the young novice was initially hampered by a nervousness at the possibility of injuring his instructor by accidentally cutting him with a real blade, Ja'aris' constant rain of insults and jibes soon dispelled this reservation.

Randyl watched from the doorway saying little and often looking skyward as if something up there had caught his attention. Eventually he decided he had become bored watching or he had seen enough and went back inside where he collapsed wordlessly on his back on McSweens bed.

L'non spent much of that time on the floor of the main room in a state of meditation again, his lips moving wordlessly every few minutes as his eyes twitched behind their lids. Beads of sweat gathered on his brow and his fists clenched and unclenched but otherwise he gave no outward sign of what he was thinking.

And from McSween there was nothing. He neither opened his door nor made any noise from the other side of it that he was even there any longer.

And so afternoon passed to evening and evening to night. Daylight waned and the winter moon rose on another clear, crisp night. Braxter and Ja'aris finished their drills and came inside.

Before long all four of them were asleep.

Right until McSween woke them screaming.

Ja'aris was the first to react - leaping out of his cot and landing on his haunches in the middle of the room, blades already in his hands and peering through the darkness, searching for an assailant. Randyl and L'non were not far behind him - L'non with his blade drawn while Randyl stood unarmed, an expression on his face more curious than alarmed.