Jaleigh Johnson - Unbroken Chain - The Darker Road

Ashok shook his head. “Most of us are just trying to avoid death.”

“Yes, and you’ll court any force to do it,” Mareyn said, “fortune, misfortune, creation, destruction. For your people, survival comes before everything-fear, compassion, love, hate. To put any other emotion first is a struggle for you.”

“A struggle, but it’s worth the cost,” Ashok said, remembering Reltnar and the slaughter room of his enclave. There lay the consequences of putting survival above everything else.

“The night we shared together-for you, it was a means to keep from fading,” Mareyn said. “You don’t seek companionship for the same reasons I do. I might be looking for fun, for comfort in the night, a taste of joy on a hard, cold journey. But you-you’ll share pleasure with me, but if it’s meant to aid your own survival, I don’t think I want to be responsible for that.”

“So you don’t think we share Tymora’s kiss?” Ashok said, an edge of mockery in his voice. “Our paths didn’t cross by the will of your goddess so that we could bring good fortune to each other?”

For a long time, she didn’t reply. He thought he’d angered her. Then she stopped and laid her hand over his. “Do you think I’m afraid of you, Ashok?” she asked. “Is that why you try to keep me at bay? Or do you truly hate the gods that much?”

“I ride the nightmare-the demon; you’d be wise to be afraid,” Ashok said harshly.

She laughed, which shocked him. “Oh, Ashok, don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re the most frightening thing I’ve seen in Faerun. You’re not.” She stroked the scars on his knuckles. “I’ve seen things here you can’t imagine. That’s why I want to be careful not to treat you too lightly. You’re not ready. Someday you might be, and maybe our paths will cross again when you return from Rashemen.”

“Nothing will have changed,” Ashok said. “You said it yourself-we’re too different. I’m not like you.”

“We’ll see. Until then, take care of Ilvani,” Mareyn said. “I want her to find the peace she needs.”

“So do I.” In that, at least, they were united. “I hope whatever path you walk continues to bring your goddess’s favor,” he said. “May Tymora never disappoint you.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence, until they heard the rumble of wagons and the snuffling of weary horses. Slowly the caravan came into view, diminished but safe.

“They did it,” Ashok said. “Ilvani and Daruk drove back the brigands.”

“Tymora be praised,” Mareyn said. Briefly, she embraced him, and they went to join the others.

The caravan spent three days tending to its wounded and seeing to the dead. Vlahna sent scouts ahead to report on how far they were from the road out of the mountains. Blessedly, they were only a day away from passing out of the mountains and into Rashemen. Their remaining supplies would hold out long enough for them to get to Mulsantir.

Despite this news, the caravan crew was discouraged and grieved for their losses. The Martucks were elated to have their boy returned to them, but Ashok sat on guard duty each of those three nights and listened to Les toss in his sleep until finally the boy woke up screaming. His parents sat up with him and never slept. They endured it when the boy woke and yelled and lashed out at them with loosely clenched fists when he didn’t recognize them. By the third night, he was quieter in his dreaming, but Ashok knew the nightmare still worked on his mind. The boy was probably reliving his ordeal with the wolves. The Martucks never accused Ashok of anything, but they stayed as far away from him and the nightmare as the caravan would allow.

Here again was the price. Ashok had brought the beast into their midst to protect the caravan and especially to protect Ilvani. He, Les, and Mareyn would have certainly died without the nightmare’s intervention with the snowfang. But Vlahna had been right. The cost for such protection was to allow a monster to walk among them, and Ashok held its reins.

Of all of them, the dying Tuva seemed in the best spirits. The pain he felt walking around must have been unfathomable, but Ashok saw how it sharpened him and narrowed the focus of his world to include only the caravan and its crew. That single-minded intent probably saved them from despair and more deaths during those three days.

On the fourth day, when everyone was well enough to travel, they moved out, and Tuva stayed at the back of the caravan with Ashok, the brothers, and Ilvani. Ashok held the nightmare well back from the others, just barely keeping the rear of the caravan in sight. Tuva walked beside him.

“Your friends told me what happened to you the night you encountered the Tuigan,” Tuva said. “What was it like, riding with ghosts?”

“Like nothing I can describe,” Ashok said. “I felt … immortal, as if I was part of a tale that had been hundreds of years in the telling.”

Tuva nodded. “You did a great service for that warrior, guiding him to Tempus’s side.”

“I don’t know that it was Tempus who claimed his soul,” Ashok said. “It could have been any god.”

“It was Tempus.” Tuva smiled. Ashok noticed a faint sheen of blood on his lips. “You are His emissary. It was right to … be you.” His steps faltered.

Ashok reached out, intending to support the warrior, but Tuva brushed his hand away and kept walking.

“I should call Vlahna,” Ashok said.

Tuva shook his head. “We’ve had words already. I won’t see her again.” He focused on Ashok’s face with an effort. “Do you have a message for Him, Ashok, if my soul makes it to his side?”

“You will make it,” Ashok said. “Tempus gains a great warrior this day. Tell Him that, and may He never forget it.”

Tuva chuckled weakly. “I like you, Ashok. You have a sharp tongue, and you’re fearless. I’ll walk beside you a little longer,” he said.

He took three more steps and was dead before he fell. Ashok caught the man gently at the shoulders and lowered his body to the ground.

“Tempus,” Ashok said. His voice hardened. “Remember my words. Claim your warrior’s soul, and never forget his worth.”

He held Tuva’s body in silence for several long moments while the caravan passed on out of sight ahead of them. The warrior’s body went cold so fast-another soul gone, yet Ashok still lived.

Tuva, Olra, Vedoran, Chanoch.

If he closed his eyes, Ashok could see them all standing before him out of the shadows.

Waiting.

When he heard the sound of hoofbeats, Ashok looked up. He wasn’t surprised to see Cree riding toward him. Ilvani rode beside him on Skagi’s horse.

“You felt it?” Ashok asked Ilvani.

The witch nodded. She and Cree kneeled beside Tuva’s body. Cree said a prayer for the warrior-no less fervent than Ashok’s, but perhaps more respectful.

True to Tuva’s words, Vlahna led the caravan on while Ashok and Ilvani stayed behind to tend to Tuva’s body. Ilvani spoke a few words and moved her hands over the shadar-kai’s body. Flames spread from her hands and consumed him. It reminded Ashok too much of Olra’s funeral, and he turned away quickly to follow the caravan.

Ilvani lingered. She watched the road ahead of them with trepidation.

“What is it?” Ashok asked. “Do you see something?”

“An owl,” Ilvani said.

Ashok looked, but there were no birds in the sky. “What does it mean?”

“One spirit is gone, but the others are waiting,” Ilvani said. “The monsters are gone, but there are more frightening things this side of the mountains.”

“We’ll deal with whatever comes,” Ashok said. “You won’t have to face it alone.”