Jeff Salyards - Veil of the Deserters

I did as he ordered, watching as Braylar rode briskly up to the first gatehouse. He spoke to a guardsman, pointing back toward the middle of Sunwrack, then gesturing in the direction of the bridge, the other gatehouses.

The guard nodded, stepped back, sent another guard running to the next gatehouse on the bridge. Then he barked at some Thurvacians to get out of our way, and waved us through. Our company rode and rolled along through the next two gatehouses without any problem, despite the fact that the Jackals had clearly just been in combat of some kind. Perhaps given that it was the Capital of Coups, guards were used to bloodletting occurring by armed bands in Sunwrack, or maybe the guards were from a Tower affiliated with the Jackals.

No matter the cause, we were three quarters of the way across when we heard commotion behind us. I looked, despite Vendurro hitting me in the arm again, and saw the Imperial troops at the first gatehouse, the Sun and Leopard standard held aloft.

A few moments later, a horn sounded, and Braylar shouted, “Ride, you whoresons! Ride!”

We were off again, the wagon bouncing, rocking, and I nearly bit my tongue in half as we hit a divot in the stone bridge. Arrows started coming down from the gatehouse behind us as well as the final one in front. I looked up, saw Syldoon scrambling along the ramparts, shouting orders, and then heard a horrible grinding sound. The bridge was shifting underneath us, being winched away toward either tower, rolling away from the middle. The Jackals whipped their horses, and Vendurro snapped the reins on our team, and we plummeted forward, arrows raining down, two or three tearing into the back of the wagon. Syldoon were loosing crossbows up at both gatetowers, and I did the same, watching my bolt ricochet off the stone, but maybe keeping an archer from shooting another Jackal down.

I heard the portcullis winch free behind us after we rode through the last gate and made it to the solid ground surrounding Sunwrack. We kept riding down the road until we were out of bowshot. Braylar looked back at the bridge-while a good number of our company had escaped, more than a dozen Jackal soldiers were trapped, the bridge being rolled out from underneath their horse’s hooves, arrows picking them off as they rode away from the opening in the middle, toward the portcullis on either side. Even well armored, there were simply too many arrows and nowhere to go. Horses were shot out from underneath them, and Jackals were cut down one by one, or fell into the chasm as the bridge rolled further into the gatetowers.

We were all watching, helpless to do anything, when I heard a muted whump and then a strange keening whistling sound. I looked everywhere before seeing the trebuchet missile flying down from high in the sky. The huge stone struck the earth twenty yards away and bounced several times in the distance. If it had been on target it would have destroyed the wagons, crushed men or horses into red sludge.

Mulldoos was still sitting oddly in the saddle, one shoulder more hunched than the other, body twisted somewhat, and when he pulled his helm off his head, I saw one eyelid drooping, and when he spoke it was through half his mouth, the other half almost paralyzed. “Best clear out, Cap.” He might have said more until he realized how stricken he was.

Captain Killcoin looked around at our bruised, bloodied, and battered company, his face still obscured by mail. We’d lost at least two dozen men. Maybe more. Though I couldn’t see the captain’s expression, I could feel the fury as he called out, “We ride for Thumaar. We can lick our wounds when we are well away from here. Take a final look. If we ever set foot in Sunwrack again, it will be as conquerors.”

He turned his horse around and rode off, and we followed into an indeterminate future, deserters from the Empire, very likely to be hunted by an Emperor who now commanded the mightiest armies and Memoridons the world had ever seen.

We rode hard for much of the day, stopping to feed and water the horses only briefly before moving off again. Even with the wagons slowing our pace, I still worried the beasts might come up lame or blown. Clearly, though, the Syldoon knew their horses better than I did and just how hard they could push them.

I left the bench frequently to check on Hewspear, but he was unresponsive each time, in the same position, chin on his chest, breath shallow, body stiff. He refused food and my attempts to give him water only ended with a wet beard. Whenever I returned to the front, Vendurro gave me a hopeful look, which soured as I shook my head.

Several times I found myself craning around the edge of the wagon and looking at what remained of our convoy, wondering if Imperial troops were thundering down the road after us, but scouts reported no immediate pursuit.

Vendurro hardly spoke at all during the ride, but my anxiety must have been palpable, because after seeing me look behind us for the tenth time, he said, “Got a few things working in our favor, bookmaster. Cynead must have figured those battalions and Memoridons would take us clean in Sunwrack, didn’t have a hunting party ready to come after us. So we got a lead. That, and must have been survivors to report Soffjian turning on them, so they probably figure she’s riding with us. Which she ain’t, of course. But they don’t know that.”

“And she is a power to be reckoned with.”

“Ayyup, going to be real careful on how they decide to try to run us to ground. Emperor’s got soldiers and war Memoridons to throw at us, but got to figure he won’t be rash about it neither. Even without Cap’s sister, they got Memoridons who can track us, so no fire on their horses’ tails. They might even figure we could lead them to Thumaar.”

I sat back against the bench, took a deep breath that didn’t relax me at all. “And the third thing?”

“Third?”

“You said ‘a few things in our favor.’

“So I did. Misspoke then. Just the two, really. Bought us a little time, is all. But still, better than being a corpse at the bottom of the Trench.”

We lapsed into silence after that, Vendurro probably thinking about nothing except all the Jackals who fell to their deaths or were shot out of their saddles that morning, me trying to think of anything but them and failing most of the time, and when I did succeed, it was only to meditate on the false Skeelana, or the fact that we were all fugitives now, and likely doomed. It felt a mercy when we finally stopped for the night with the moon high and bright in the cloudless sky.

I offered to help Vendurro with the horses, but he seemed eager for a distraction and said he would take care of them on his own after he looked in on Hewspear.

After forcing cold food into my belly, I got down and stretched my legs, staying clear of the rest of the Syldoon. I only recognized a few soldiers here and there, and each time they were part of sullen, silent groups that were making camp for the night. Simply walking near them, I felt intrusive. I saw Mulldoos off to himself, cursing loudly as he struggled with his horse’s harness, tripping and nearly falling, one eye full of murder, the other noticeably drooping. I moved away quickly, giving him an even wider berth than usual. Even as damaged as he was, he could easily kill me with one arm, and it would take nothing to provoke him now.

I was about to return to the wagon when I spotted a solitary figure out in a field, armor winking under the moon. Though I could sense the rage radiating even from a distance, I chose to cautiously approach. I stopped several feet behind him, suddenly wondering at the wisdom of seeking him out when the captain said, “I imagine the only way you would be disturbing me right now is if you translated the means of binding every Memoridon in Sunwrack to us, or striking the Emperor dead on the spot. Surely you would not risk my wrath with anything less momentous than that. Surely. So what marvels have you unveiled, Arki? Regale me. Astound me. I beg of you.”