The Elder's Curse Andrew Walbrown (red scrolls of magic .TXT) 📖

“Why?” Amantius said, turning to face her. He could tell from the direction of her voice that she was in the center of the road, but he could not see her.

“We cannot see anything, that’s why. What if one of us trips on a stone or fallen branch? Is it worth breaking an ankle? Let’s just stop here for the night and continue in the morning again.”

Amantius growled out of frustration, not caring if Nilawen heard him. He was tired and hot, sticky with sweat, hungry, and absolutely parched. Every muscle in his body ached, especially those in his lower back and legs from the constant incline. There was nothing he wanted more than to fall down and not move for days, but they had exhausted their water supply already, and they had not seen any rivers, creeks, or lakes since they entered the hills. He knew Nilawen was correct, and under normal circumstances, they would make camp, but at the same time if they stopped they might be too weak to continue in the morning.

“Let’s just make it to the top of this hill and then we will settle for the night. No reason to sleep on an incline; we’d wake up with massive headaches in the morning.”

He heard no reply, only the sound of light footsteps on paved stone as Nilawen continued climbing the hill. He prayed to Kevea that the fortress was at the top, although he knew if it had been then he would have already heard the familiar sounds of an encampment. But the wind carried no laughter, no neighing of a horse, nor songs from a blacksmith’s forge.

When Amantius reached the top of the hill he collapsed in the road, Nilawen quickly following suit. Together they laid on the hard ground, appreciating the moment’s rest as they sucked in mouthfuls of the night’s sweet-tasting air. Amantius closed his eyes as exhaustion quickly spread through every part of his body. All he could think about was how much he needed to stand up again, but the longer he tried convincing himself to do so, the more his fatigued muscles contracted. By the Gods, I’m not sure if I’ll ever walk again.

But then the strangest sound came from beside him, starting as quiet as a whisper before becoming as loud as thunder. He turned his head and saw Nilawen sitting up, her back resting against her travel pack. She was laughing wildly, holding her sides because of the intensity. She then grabbed her canteen and poured out the last of its contents into her mouth, letting out a satisfied sigh. Her sudden burst of energy and excitement frightened Amantius so much that he crawled a few inches away from her. Is she unhinged? Has the heat finally gotten to her? And did she drink the last of the damn water!

The confusion and worry were so obvious in Amantius’ eyes that it provoked Nilawen to renew her laughter. She reached out and grabbed him by the arm while pointing with her other hand. “Look!”

With a little help, Amantius sat up just enough to see further down the road, his eyes widening as they focused on the flickering yellow and orange lights dancing in the darkness, the glimmer illuminating the outer perimeter of the fortress. He felt himself smile as a wave of relief washed over him like ice-cold water, pumping energy into his drained muscles. Ulam potentially being within those walls was enough to motivate him to stand again, even if deep inside he felt some anxiety about seeing his foster-brother so soon after their squabble in the tent. Hopefully, he’s not still upset. He better be happy to see us after we force marched over these damn hills.

“What are you waiting for?” Nilawen said as she stood, slinging her pack over her shoulder. “We’ve come all this way, it would be stupid to sleep out here when we’re within sight of the fort.”

They pushed forward, their eyes collectively focused on the end of the road. Some couple hundred paces away from the front gate the road was aligned with torches, their light a welcome sight. Almost immediately after Amantius and Nilawen crossed into the glow they were able to quicken their pace, no longer having to fear tripping over a phantom branch lurking in the darkness.

“Slow down,” Nilawen said as her hand grasped Amantius’ arm, “there are sentries on the wall; we don’t want them to think we are bandits trying to sneak into the fort. And they look fully armed too.”

Initially, Amantius did not see the men standing guard at the top of the wall, but after Nilawen’s warning, his eyes began to locate the occasional flicker of fire on iron. Considering their appearance he did not think it likely the guards would attack them, but he decided to be cautious just in case. They began walking at a slower pace, taking care to be in the best-lit areas of the highway, while attempting to appear as non-threatening as possible. Please don’t be idiots, please know we’re not thieves. There’s no way I could fight or outrun anyone right now; I’d just lay down and die.

“Halt! Who approaches the Crescent Fort? And what business do you have?” A man shouted from atop the palisade. At the sound of his voice slicing through the night’s air a couple of his comrades joined him along the wall, all wearing equally stern expressions.

“Just a couple of road-weary travelers, desperate for water, and even more desperate for a long night’s rest,” Nilawen called back. “We have coin on us for whatever we need to purchase. Please, let us in, we only wish to stay a night, two at the longest. ”

Though no one responded, there was a burst of muffled conversation along the wall. A few moments later the gate opened and an older man with wispy white hair appeared, surrounded by a small detachment of soldiers. He wore a gleaming suit of exquisite armor, the finest Amantius had