Chapter 13 - Part 5

They moved carefully, keeping Pienna level and unjostled being more important than running. Six pairs of hands, human and shifter, held her up, while another pair of hands that belonged to a half-orc gently and carefully checked her bandages. Feather was in his usual place on Delegado’s shoulder. A few more men walked ahead to the left and to the right, ready to lay down cover fire with slings.

Chubat walked after the litter, ready to cut down the first man who panicked. The normally taciturn dwarf alternated between shaking with tears and snarling half-audible threats. Missy prowled after it as well, sometimes yowling softly, but always eyeing the surrounding area. Thomas was not present. He had taken to sweeping back along their trail for enemies, then running forward to keep them informed. The woodsman with the stormstalk could move very quietly when he wanted to, and he blended carefully into the lengthening shadows.

Delegado pursed his lips, wondering if Pienna had enough blood left in her. She had lost much, and needed more. The only ways to get it were a complicated tubing process that House Jorasco was still working on, magical healing that gave new energy to the body, or food and rest in abundance. He was not sure if she had enough to last to get to any of those options. Her heart beat only very softly and slowly, and her breathing was ragged. He checked each bandage again. She could not afford to lose one drop, and his stitchwork could not afford any sharp tugs.

Why did I stay here? Delegado wondered, and not for the first time. I could have gone off-road, left this place to itself. He grimaced, running his tongue along his lower incisors as he always did when a problem bothered him. Oddly, it was a habit he had picked up from his human father.

Bartemain had always told all of his children to rely on only their family, both immediate and Tharashk. The man had been born and raised in the Marches, but served Tharashk for many years in Sharn, and had come back somewhat bitter. Delegado was the second youngest of all the offspring ‘Barty’ had produced with his three wives, and the old man had devoted a great deal of attention and education to the young half-orc. A frequently repeated lesson was the extremely cynical observation that no good ever came out of mixing in another person’s battles. A chosen life that involved long stretches of time alone in the wilderness had reinforced that lesson.

“She okay?” Chubat asked, hurrying forward. Delegado realized that he had been frowning when thinking of his father, dead for almost a decade now.

“So far, so good,” Delegado said, forcing a smile to his face. “It’s very delicate, but we’re moving pretty good, and so far so good.”

“Great!” Chubat said, gripping his axe fiercely. “I’m sure everyone will keep carrying her so carefully then.” He glared at each man in turn and then fell back to his previous position.

“Bring the little monster on top of us more, why don’t you?” Lyle snapped, but in a whisper.

“You have a problem, boy?” Delegado asked.

“A problem with getting killed because we dare not take more than one step every other second?” Lyle asked. “Yes. Pienna could be hidden in a hole under some brush and those idiot tin men would never see her, then we could actually run home and protect our families!” The young man was vehement, but still whispering. Chubat’s temper and axe hand were things to be feared. For that matter Lyle’s eyes darted to Missy, afraid that the great panther could understand him.

“She’d die,” Delegado said. “She needs thick blankets, soft mattresses, and soup to sip, and even then she may not make it. But you can take your suggestion up with the dwarf if you wish.” Feather eyed Lyle as though the man were a plump field mouse.

“No, we all can!” Lyle said. The other men ignored him. “Come on, she’s a Gatekeeper! That sect doesn’t recognize Oalian as its leader, are we Reachers or not?”

A shifter in the position next to Lyle suddenly grew his teeth long and snapped at Lyle’s throat, deliberately missing. Everyone froze.

“You’ll shut your trap, or I’ll tear it open,” growled the shifter. “Pienna comes back with us, or we don’t come back.”

“Aye,” come a chorus from a few other men.

“What’s the holdup?” Chubat asked, hurrying forward.

“Nothing,” Delegado said. “We’re just being careful.” The shifter’s teeth returned to normal size. Chubat nodded, then fell back as Pienna’s litterbearers began their slow walk south again. Lyle had the decency to turn red in the face.

The half-orc quickly went back to monitoring Pienna. He very much did not want her to die. There were times he seriously disliked the woman, times he had wanted to scream at her, and times where she just generally was a preachy pain on the flank, but he wanted her to live. He tried telling himself it was because of the respect he had for the Gatekeepers, he tried telling himself it was because she would owe his House a favor, and he even tried telling himself that he didn’t want anyone he had treated to die because it would reflect badly on his skills. Deep down though, he remembered something his mother had told him when she was belting him for lying. Bad enough you lie up against your Mamma, but now you lie even up against your own self. You lie to your own self, you got no hope, boy. Nobody could dish out a whupping like an orc, and while being honest with himself was at times difficult, the value of it had been driven well home.

The truth was, he liked Pienna. He admired the fact that she had walked away from luxury to follow her heart, whereas he would never leave his House, even when sometimes he disagreed with the missions he was sent on. He knew she cared about the weak, and the helpless, whereas he had told himself that helping others without profit was for suckers. That tough stance seemed to help against the implied rebuke in her eyes.

He came out of his woolgathering very suddenly. “Chubat, where’s Thomas?” he asked. “He was due back two minutes ago, wasn’t he?” Chubat looked concerned, the odds were that Thomas had run into trouble.

The sound of running feet was then heard and all turned to look. Delegado nearly reached for his bow, when Thomas came from around the tree.

“What is it?” Chubat said, gripping his axe and shield furiously. “Are they coming?”

Thomas shook his head, and curiously the stormstalk mimicked his movement. “They’ve left!” he said. “Iron Orphan was taken by them, and I slinked forward and saw him talking to their captain. They went east, back to where the fishermen live!”

A couple of men there let loose with a hurrah, although Lyle bit his lip and looked at the ground.

“Bless his metal soul!” Chubat said happily.

“Good, but let’s keep moving,” Delegado said. The men got going again, plainly relieved that no one was following them again. “I don’t know how he talked them into it, guess he isn’t always a blundertongue.”

“He’s obviously one of them,” Lyle snapped.

“Oh, shut up!” one man said. “Someone come take this idiot’s place!”

The forest floor became a path, and the path became a road, and the road turned to the fortified area on the inner town. Men came out to welcome them, and women came out to take Pienna to a warm cottage.

Chubat refused to leave Pienna’s side, and Missy was of the same mind. However once he had given a brief report to the mayor and the Vadalis manager, Delegado gestured to Thomas. The half-daelkyr, who could see in the dark just as the half-orc could, nodded without saying a word. They quickly made their way to the northeast, hoping to rescue the warforged monk.