Don Bassingthwaite - The Grieving Tree

Chuut’s mouth drooped. “As you say,” he agreed, “but the orc and half-orc stay. If you cause trouble, they’ll be the ones to pay.”

Orshok paled slightly at the threat, but Geth shook his head at him. “We won’t cause trouble,” he promised Chuut.

The ogre just grunted and turned to stride up alongside the resting column. Where he passed, lounging ogres leaped to their feet-and stared curiously at the smaller beings following in his wake.

Ashi returned their curiosity. “I still haven’t had the chance to fight one,” she commented.

“And I hope you never do,” said Singe. The wizard looked over his shoulder at Geth. “Good idea, but let me do most of the talking. Remember, I’m the one who’s supposed to be in charge.”

Geth rolled his eyes and nodded. At his side, Ekhaas’s ears perked up.

“You’re up to something,” she said.

“No, we’re not,” Singe replied blandly.

“I could tell the General what I’ve heard.”

“From what I’ve heard, the General doesn’t have too high an opinion of you,” the wizard told her. “Is he going to believe anything you say?”

Ekhaas glared at him but fell silent.

As they drew close to the front of the column, Chuut tagged one of the leaner ogres and sent him running ahead. Geth spotted the General and Dandra, still on their horses, in the shade of the trees at the side of the road. Chuut’s runner stopped a short distance from them and saluted the General. The shrouded man beckoned him closer and the ogre approached. As he spoke his message, Geth saw the General and Dandra both sit up straighter in the saddle and look back along the column toward them. The General leaned close to Dandra for a moment and she nodded, then turned her horse and urged it into a gallop, racing for them. Her face was sharp with concern. “Cover the hobgoblin’s mouth!” she called. “The General says she’s a spellcaster!”

“We know that already!” Geth shouted back. “She’s under control!”

Chuut, however, obeyed the order without a moment’s hesitation, shouldering Ashi aside to reach down and wrap a big hand across Ekhaas’s face. The hobgoblin let out a muffled yell and struggled. Singe stared. “I don’t think she can breathe.”

The ogre grimaced in pain. “But she can bite!” His free hand fumbled at a pouch on his belt and emerged with a large rag. “Hold her,” he commanded Geth. A moment later, Ekhaas wore a gag and a furious expression, and Chuut was cradling a bloody hand.

Dandra drew up in front of them and swung down from her horse. “Who is this?” she asked, staring at Ekhaas.

She hadn’t seen the hobgoblin directly while they were in the tavern. Singe told her what they knew. Dandra’s eyebrows rose. “What does she know about Taruuzh Kraat?”

“Nothing that she’s telling us,” said Singe. He looked Dandra over. “Is the General treating you well?”

“He doesn’t say much, but otherwise yes.” She nodded back to where the General was dismounting from his horses with the fumbling aid of two ogres, one of them kneeling like a stepstool. “The General wants a moment. He said we can approach when he’s standing.”

“He’ll see us?” Geth asked.

“His words were, ‘Your friends are stubborn.’”

“That’s us,” Singe said, but his eyes were on the General’s struggles. “Dandra, does he go through this every time he gets on and off a horse?”

“Every time I’ve seen,” Dandra said.

Geth watched the ogres trying to help the man almost knock him to the ground. “You’d think he’d have trained them in what to do!” he said.

Singe’s lips pressed together for a moment. “Aye,” he said.

It took a few moments longer before the General was standing-a little awkwardly-on his own two feet beneath the trees. He gestured them forward with his left arm, his right hanging as stiff as a piece of wood. Geth could feel Chuut’s watchful gaze on all of them as they moved forward. Ekhaas seemed to pull back a little. Above the gag, her eyes were angry and confused. Geth growled and tugged her after him.

The General stopped them a few paces away from where he stood in the shifting, dappled sunlight that fell through the tree branches. “I don’t want her any closer to me,” he said. His voice was as harsh as Dandra had described. Maybe even harsher. Geth looked at his shrouded body and gave silent thanks that whatever else the Last War might have done, at least it hadn’t left him crippled.

“General,” said Singe, “I understand this woman has been causing Tzaryan Rrac trouble for some time. I place her into your custody with my compliments.” He gave a formal bow.

The General nodded in return. “My master will thank you himself,” he said. “Chuut, see that Ekhaas is kept under guard. When the company returns to Tzaryan Keep, put her in the dungeon.”

“Aye, General!” The ogre stepped up behind Ekhaas. Ashi and Geth released their grips on her, turning the hobgoblin over to him. For the first time, there was a flicker of fear in Ekhaas’ eyes. She started to struggle, trying to shout through her gag, as Chuut took her away. She got one arm free of the ogre’s grasp and thrust it out toward the general, but Chuut slapped it down again before Ekhaas could do more than point. Any spell she might have been trying to cast was ruined. The General didn’t move, but just watched with icy calm. When she was gone, he turned his attention to back Geth, Singe, Ashi, and Dandra.

“You’ve been trying to meet me, Master Timin,” he said. “Now you have. As Dandra can tell you, I’m not much for conversation. I prefer my own company. Does this satisfy you?”

“You’re giving Deneith Blademarks training to Tzaryan’s ogres,” Singe said bluntly.

For a moment, the General said nothing. Between the scarves that covered the man’s face and the changing patterns of light and shadow that made even his exposed eyes hard to see, Geth could read nothing of his expression, but when he spoke again his harsh voice had taken on a cold note. “It’s unusual to find a scholar of Wynarn who also knows something of mercenary training-but I’ve found many surprises in Droaam. For your knowledge, I owe nothing to House Deneith.”

To Geth’s surprise, Singe made no response. He turned his head to look at the wizard.

Singe’s face was tense with effort of holding back emotion. “No,” he said finally, his voice cracking. “No, I suppose you don’t-old man.”

On Singe’s other side, Dandra stiffened, her eyes going wide and darting to the General. Ashi looked confused, but Geth felt his gut clench like a knotted rope.

The General went stiff as well-then drew a deep breath of resignation and relaxed. His right arm and leg loosened. He straightened the fingers of his right hand and reached up to pull aside scarves revealing a face that was weathered and wrinkled with age, but not at all scarred.

“You’re too clever, Lieutenant Bayard,” he said “I knew I should have left you in Vralkek.”

A smile spread across Singe’s face and he leaped forward to embrace the man. “Robrand!”

“Robrand?” asked Ashi in amazement. “Robrand d’Deneith?”

“Robrand,” whispered Geth.

They made camp for the night alongside the road. Robrand ordered his pavilion erected and invited Singe and the others to stay with him and to share his evening meal. Natrac and Orshok-pale with worry that something had gone wrong-were summoned up the column and were astounded to find the others settling down with an old friend. Robrand greeted them and Ashi with all the aristocratic charm that Singe remembered from years before. The old man even reintroduced himself to Dandra, apologizing for his deception.