Ruein: Fires of Haraden: Action/Adventure Necromancy Series (Books of Ruein Book 2) G.O. Turner (top 20 books to read .TXT) 📖

“The assignment is mine,” said Ruein.

Liv thrust her finger at Twigs. “You want to tag along? Then have at the gold, but only if you earn it.”

What? Ruein squinted at her sister. Do we not have enough of a task already?

Liv waved an arm at the half-orc. “C’mon. Like we’re not going to need the help. If there’s going to be any lugging, can you think of a better lunk?”

“Hey now.” Twigs haunched at the Lightbringer.

Reaching low, Ceer tapped at his partner’s scalp. “For that much gold…Ceer lunk all day.”

Liv continued, “Besides, there’s no telling what a druid can do.” She leaned over the gnome, lowering her voice. “What can a druid do?”

“What do you…you mean you don’t…” Twigs tapped his knotted staff. “Loving loam, I am in harmony with the earth and all that is natural and breathing. I call to the ground and speak with the flora. I can shape stone. Water is my ally, and the deer I call friend!”

“Huh…” Liv smirked. “Well, Ceer will be useful.”

Ruein frowned. “They’re not equipped for the north. They’re not even here with a horse.”

The half-orc countered, “Ceer not hungry.”

“To ride, Ceer,” said Twigs.

“Oh.”

This was all well and good. Yet, this assignment was intended for Ruein alone. Now her sister wanted to drag these two in? An autumn wind swept between them as she held firm.

Ceer glanced between the sisters, then tapped at his friend. “Um… Throw in unseeing roll, Twi—”

“Tssht!” The gnome opened his palms up to Ruein. “Look, we can round up a coat or two. If nothing else, I’ve a few things in my contingency sack you’d be glad we brought. Stuff that has wormed us out of some tight circumstances in the past. Like yourselves, we’ve been around.”

“And as for horses, we’ve no need to indenture them. For this son-of-an-orc.” He double-tapped Ceer’s leg. The half-orc extended an arm and reseated the gnome to his shoulder. “…they’d only slow him down.”

8

Haraden’s instructions seemed simple enough. Rendezvous in Nursk before their caravan’s departure on the next half-moon. Usual accommodations to be provided.

Of course, Liv had only ever seen Nursk on maps. Given her tropical ancestry and the town’s frigid conditions, it really did little to make for a want of ever visiting. Not exactly the sort of place to get away to.

Twigs and Ceer managed the trek in their own unique way. The half-orc’s backpack hosted an elaborate collection of branches, rope, and woven fibers. The assembly above his head entwined into a surprisingly stable hammock. While Ceer bobbed along in his jog, the gnome seemed comfortably nested in that naturally-giving lap.

After a few middling nights and two subsequent days, the autumn grounds became blanketed by the stirrings of a snowier winter. The cold’s bite was abated by Liv’s furs and bundles to hold in warmth. Staying on the move didn’t hurt either.

At night, the open heavens were a vista of stars, making for chilly yet peaceful rest. A part of this was relief brought on by the distance Ruein afforded them. Leaving the warmth of the fire, Ruein assumed her post in the dark. It was a modest comfort knowing she was out there watching. A far-fuck better than having her dead eyes standing there, hovering over their bedrolls.

During the day, they took the inland road beyond the northern mountains, arcing their way back toward the coast.

Upon the third day, they arrived in Nursk.

The snows gave way again, dissolving with the sound of ocean waves and coastal winds. With a valley descent, Liv surveyed the colorless shore of the harbor town.

While Haraden’s invite was formal, it was written for the familiar. Lacking details of names and locales, Ruein and Liv decided to split. They’d need to find a caravan leader, and knew not a name or where exactly they were. Ceer partnered with Ruein while Twigs fit snuggly enough in Liv’s lap. They’d make for harbor while Ruein would start from the town’s ass end.

Skirting the rocky coast, Liv approached the weathered docks on her barded Clydesdale. Gull cries mingled with the distant ding of sea buoys. Vessels groaned with the craned netting from their decks. It seemed most everyone worked; men, women, and children all had their tasks.

Crews had scaled a behemoth that had been dragged between shore crags. Liv slowed Sage to watch as they clambered over the massive whale. A combination of chains, hooks, saws, and an elongated poled-blade carved away to get at the useful bits. Upwind, a line of bonfires cooked kettles of blubber. The overwhelming fish-wind no doubt came more from those than the chilled haul of their sister ships.

These were hardened people. They worked for each other. Liv’s heart panged at such a gray community. Strains and scars hallmarked even the children who hazarded this life.

Liv checked herself over. Unlike the drab townsfolk, she was a gleaming bronzed emblem of a higher light. Her metal, while not precious, set Liv as apart from anyone here.

Twigs let out a wet sniff. “Such cruelty.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Liv. “Their way is harsh, but then so are their surroundings.”

“I mean the barbarity. Slaying such a magnificent creature. Those of the sea breathe as much as we. Do they not know they kill one of their own?”

“What? The whale?” Liv glowered at Twigs. “It’s a damn fish.”

“No,” Twigs countered. “I beg to differ. Not only was it a living, breathing being of the depths—”

Liv’s gauntlet covered his tiny mouth. Really? She didn’t want to hear more. Did he honestly care more for the beasts than the people?

The smell intensified farther inland, wafting through a row of dilapidated wood buildings. Sheltered between various nooks and alleyways was another set of folk. Huddled in groups were those hobbled by chance or weakened with age.

Liv dismounted and handed Twigs the reins. Being so in tune with beasts, her Clydesdale should be no problem for the