Chapter 21 - Part 6

“Tell me we have coffee left,” Delegado groused, tightening the drawstrings on his gloves as he got out of his extra-thick bedroll and stomped over to Iron Orphan. It was early in the morning on the twenty-seventh of Sypheros, and they were some seventy miles northwest of Ashtakala. Once they had gotten ten miles away from the city, the cold weather had come back in full effect.

“Our coffee bag got torn open by those burrowing worms that killed your horse yesterday,” Orphan told him, staring at the distant horizon.

“I was hoping you found some,” Delegado said, starting to stack up kindling. They had little left, but the others would need it. “You know, no matter how much I see it, you look funny in an overcoat.”

Orphan was relieved to see some of Delegado’s humor coming back. Just yesterday when they had been putting bags from Delegado’s dead horse onto Thomas’ mount, Orphan had been forced to point out that it would be difficult to successfully flee while hauling Bartemain’s body. Delegado had been close to snapping, until Ois had undone the bandage around Bartemain’s skull, letting the dust that the body was stuffed with leak out. Now Bartemain’s corpse weighed one-third of what it did when they went over the wall of Ashtakala, and along with their dwindling supplies, the extra weight had made a huge difference.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Orphan asked the half-orc. “You can get another hour in.”

“I don’t like the dreams I’m having,” Delegado said. He started the fire over the small pile of kindling and held his hands over it. “You don’t dream, do you?”

“No, I don’t,” Orphan said. “I understand that particularly vivid fears, traumas, and sometimes hopes seem real and the dreamer feels no control over the dreams.” He paused. “You were dreaming about your father, I take it.”

“Yeah,” Delegado said, glancing at the corpse that was carefully laid out on the ground. He nudged the fire a bit, and once he got it going he whistled.

Feather stuck his head out from under Delegado’s bedroll. Upon seeing the fire the hawk spread his wings and hopped up to the flames to warm himself. Delegado fed the bird some grain.

“Are you going to focus now?” Orphan asked. He had learned that Delegado focused his senses in the early morning to distill and shape the limited spell power that he drew from nature.

“In a minute,” Delegado said, his voice a bit hollow. “I’m going to feed Feather first.” The half-orc turned to look at the volcanic mount that dominated much of the sky. “You’d think that thing would provide some warmth since we’re sitting practically at its feet.”

“It’s been quiet all night,” Orphan said. “I’ve watched it.”

“Yeah and now you’re watching the sunrise again,” Delegado said. “You are predictable, Orphan.”

“It never stops being beautiful,” Orphan said.

“No, it does not,” the half-orc agreed. There was a pause. “You took every watch yourself, didn’t you? Again.”

“You all need sleep,” Orphan said. We’ve been running non-stop since we got past the storm around Ashtakala. And you know the only reason we haven’t been overwhelmed is because of the blizzards that Thomas has been throwing up to slow the fiends down.”

“Yeah, you did a good job on that one,” Delegado said. “Between him and that warforged army in Merylsward maybe you have the makings of a diplomat.”

“I seriously doubt it,” Orphan said. The warforged recalled how once they were free of the Ashtakalan storm Thomas had unceremoniously bolted eastwards without a word. The warforged had had to run after the half-daelkyr and jump up into the saddle behind him. Thomas was bent on leaving all of them, and Orphan had forcibly grabbed the reins to slow the horse down. The conversation had not been pleasant.

“She lied to me!” Thomas had snarled.

“She had to, she and Delegado had a past!”

“She let me believe there is redemption!”

“There is!”

“You don’t know that! I don’t know why I try!”

“So where are you going, Thomas?” Orphan had asked. “Where?”

“You got the riddle from the prisoner, yes?” Thomas had asked in return. “You don’t need me. I’m going back to the Icehorn Mountains. I should have never gotten involved with people again!”

“I need you,” Orphan pointed out. “We have a better chance of surviving if you’re with us.”

“Like I care,” Thomas said. “I owe the half-orc nothing, I owe the liar nothing, and I owe you nothing.”

“You owe me your life,” Orphan said. “I’m the one that knocked you out instead of killing you, remember? A common room full of people wanted you dead, and would have succeeded, but I knocked you unconscious. You would have never made it to Pienna without me.”

Thomas sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes. “You’re right,” he said. “Not only are you the only one who has never lied to me, you’re also the only one whose company I can stomach.” He slowly turned the horse around, and they rejoined the others.

Thomas had indeed been of use to them, if not very social. He had snarled at both Ois and Delegado, and refused to speak directly to either of them. But he had used the mirror that Ois had procured with his scrying spells. They had discovered that a force of demons was coming in from the east, from the west, and from the north, all trying to cut them off. The lightest concentration of fiendish forces was to the north and west, so they had headed in that direction. The other scrolls that Ois had procured were primarily attack spells, and Thomas had used them to summon bolts of lightning, fireballs, and other bursts of energy to punch through the fiendish lines. They had barely made it through, and were only free because of the weather that Thomas was able to conjure up.

“You might want to pick information spells,” Orphan said to Delegado.

“You don’t know how much we can trust Thomas?” the half-orc asked with a raised eyebrow.

“We only have one scrying scroll left, and no protective scrolls,” Orphan said. “He’ll cast it soon to get a feeling for the lay of the land, but we may need information later.”

“I’m no wizard,” Delegado said. “My information comes from Feather. I’ll focus my power on being able to talk to him.”

Orphan nodded. Once Delegado was done they would prepare breakfast for the others, and hopefully they would escape their pursuers before their dwindling stocks of supplies disappeared.