A Soldier's Life

Chapter 78: City of Sobral



Chapter 78: City of Sobral

Chapter 78

I lay there as the night insects opened their chorus, and the whispers of the sentries drifted to me. If I was not so exhausted, I would have forced myself to stay awake, knowing that tomorrow we would reach Sobral and I could rest in the city. I drifted in and out of sleep as the nightmares I was imagining were overcoming my need to sleep. I heard the sentries switch late in the night and was about to fade again to sleep when Konstantin’s voice cracked the air.

“Everyone to the center of camp! It comes!” He yelled. I slipped on my boots and helm and moved out to the center of camp with my sword and glowstone. The camp crowded together, shields out.

When I joined the others, Castile asked, “What is it Konstantin?”

“A powerful undead, my sword is warm to the touch in anticipation. The weapon has never been this hot before,” Konstantin said, unsure of the threat.

“How many,” Adrian asked as the rest of the company made a large circle around Castile.

“I think just one. Much stronger than a specter. Stronger than a ghost I fought a long time ago. I do not know what it is. But it is coming from that direction,” he pointed his blade off into the woods.

Delmar asked, “Do you think it is pursuing the lockbox?”

Castile disputed that, “Undead have no use for possessions. And it is in Eryk’s space, so it would not be able to track it anyway,” she paused. “Unless it is bound to an object in the lockbox, then maybe,” she sounded uncertain about her knowledge.

Adrian barked, “It does not matter; it is here.” The wall of light that our glow stones made into the thick trees began to waiver as whisps of darkness formed into a creature black as the night with glowing red malevolent eyes. It was humanoid and had elven features. It looked over the company and then focused on Konstantin—or, more specifically, his blade. It outstretched a hand pointing or maybe requesting the blade.

Everyone was fearful as it felt like death incarnate looking at us, but Castile found her voice, “It is a wraith. They are weaker in daylight, so it must have been stalking us. It can not be harmed with normal weapons, but I think I can bind it with my shadow chains.”

Konstantin spoke, “It wants my blade. I can feel the pull to it.”

“Don’t give it the blade!” Delmar barked, “It is one of two weapons we have that can harm it!”

Konstantin yelled back, “I was not planning to. I just wanted you to know why it was following us. It has some link to the blade, I can feel it. Maybe—it wielded it in the past of forged it.”

“If anyone has a silvered blade, it can also damage the creature,” Castile said. I looked at my own blade, and only a few sparkles of silver dust remained from Telha City.

Castile started working her spell, and her own wisps of shadow chains moved toward the wraith. One chain wrapped around its wrist, and it pulled its arm to its face, “My chains are not strong enough to hold it! Kill it quickly!” Castile screamed, some desperation in her voice. The wraith howled in rage and lunged forward. The piercing scream made it hard to hear the others.

Castile added three more shadow chains and slowed the creature. Delmar broke the shield wall and swung his runic long sword to meet the creature. The dense black shadow shrieked in anger and attacked Delmar as he danced away. Constantine was at the creature’s back and slashed with his own weapon. Hundreds of tiny white sparks flew off the creature, briefly creating a gap in its blackness before it reformed. I felt helpless as I watched.

The creature spun, breaking Castile’s bonds, and swiped Konstantin’s arm that was holding his sword. He grunted and switched the blade to his other hand. Arrows were piecing the black wraith at a steady pace, but each one just passed through and did not elicit any reaction from the horror.

Firth and Mateo bravely joined Konstantin and Delmar to serve as another distraction with their spears. Castile kept summoning more chains to slow the creature. Delmar was attacking the back of the creature, while Konstantin struggled with its undivided attention. If it had not been bound and slowed by Castile, I think Konstantin would have been in real trouble.

Konstantin relied on reading an opponent in combat, and this black mass had nothing to read; it just attacked. A backhanded swing stuck Mateo, he screamed and moved away, holding his face. Brutus moved in to take his place. His spear wiped through the black ghost, trying to distract it.

The wraith was getting smaller as Delmor and Konstantin slowly whittled away at it. Hundreds of white sparks always accompanied Konstantin’s strikes. The creature of darkness howled, splitting our ears. Castile’s chains faltered for a moment, and Konstantin took a blow to his chest and lost his sword.

Konstantin rolled away, but before the apparition could reach the sword, Adrian retrieved it and pressed the frustrated creature again. As the creature shrank in size, Castile’s chains became more effective. I felt useless, just waiting for my turn to fight the creature. I considered moving the entire creature to my dimensional space, but that seemed ludicrous. And it would have to remain there forever as I could never release it.

We were winning, and soon, the creature turned translucent and disappeared. Everyone paused, not quite believing we had won against the nightmare. Linus was looking at Konstantin; his left arm and chest were completely blackened. The side of Mateo’s face was black well. Delmar had taken a light blow on his hand, and his thumb was black.

Castile ordered, “Set the perimeter. I will see to the wounded.” I moved with her, having felt ineffective in the fight like almost everyone in the company.

Linus looked up from a shallow breathing Konstantin, “I do not know what this is or how to treat him.”

Castile knelt, “It is necrotic damage. I have only read about it.”

Konstantin rasped, “Got to my lungs. There is a greater healing potion in my bag.” Linus rushed to get it and was soon back. We watched as he drank it, and the blackness faded to a yellow-blue bruise. He was also breathing easier.

“Necrotic damage kills the tissue. A strong enough healing potion or a healing mage can counter the effects and restore the dead tissue,” Castile explained.

Mateo’s right jaw was completely black. He tried to talk, but all that came out was nonsense. Benito offered, “I have a minor healing potion. Will that work?” When everyone looked at him, he shrugged, “Got it at the Imperial Alchemists in Macha.”

Castile considered, “It will help a little. Should be enough for him to heal on his own after the potion.” Castile sounded more like she was guessing than she actually knew. Mateo’s jaw turned yellow-blue, and his speech was slightly slurred, but he looked like he would be fine.

The company started a fire a short while later as it was the middle of the night. I somehow ended up in Castile, Delmar, and Adrian’s meeting. Konstantin was lying by the fire, exposing his upper body and enjoying the heat as he shivered. The potion worked mostly on his chest before running out of energy. His arm was still very black, but he could move his fingers.

Delmar started the midnight meeting, saying, “We should have gone to Parvas.”

Castile looked angry, “I told you no. I know the Count who rules the city is Octavian’s eldest son. If we arrived without the barge, I did not want to risk a confrontation.”

Adrian tried to calm them both down, “Konstantin can walk, and we can make it to Sobral tomorrow.” I was just a spectator as they discussed possible plans.

Delmar regained composure, “We can leave at first light. We will drop all but two days of food.” Castile’s eyebrows went up. Delmar explained, “Now that we have excess coin,” he pointed at me, “we can be more frivolous with supplies.”

Adrian added, “Agreed. We can get the men who lost armor replacements as well. We were lucky we did not lose anyone and will be there in a long day’s march tomorrow.” He changed his tone a little, “With Konstantin down till he receives more healing, should we promote someone else to temporary scout? Firth or Wylie?”

Castile considered, then shook her head, “Just Eryk is fine for a single day. I am sure Konstantin will insist he maintain his duties anyway, even if he wheezes like a boy with lung rot.”

I was dismissed to tell everyone to drop whatever food they could not eat in a single day’s march. It was the best news they had gotten on this ill-fated trip. Everyone had over twenty pounds of food in their pack and eagerly started trading for the best bits for the march. The food they thought was worthless was mostly the ration bars wrapped in wax leaf. Over one hundred of them hit the ground near the fire. The company was given orders as soon as the sun rose and headed back to the road. Konstantin assigned me rear guard, and I lingered just long enough to move the pile of ration bars to my space.

Even if I did not want to eat them, I could always use the wax leaf for soft ass wipes. I was rear guard, as Konstantin had insisted on being out front. According to Konstantin, I was to stay about 50 paces back and walk through the woods off the road. My job was scanning the woods to our left, right, and behind. If I saw trouble coming, I was to blow my whistle twice to alert the company. The idea was to give them an extra ten seconds to prepare for a threat.

Walking alone in the morning away from the company was a bit nerve-racking, especially after last night. I kept the rear of the formation in sight and the whistle Konstantin loaned in my hand. At midday, the company stopped, and I caught up to them for lunch. Almost everyone was eating some type of salted meat and candied nuts. I sipped my water and munched on spicy jerky that was meant to be hydrated in a soup. It was extremely salty but had a nice kick.

Konstantin found me and spent the entire thirty minutes asking me questions. Apparently, I had failed to see four signs of passage in the woods that he left for me—a snapped branch, an overturned rock, a copper coin, and a bit of black fabric. I did not argue and just told him I would be more observant in the future.

We reached a road marker, and Castile announced we were in the Sobrol province, just fifteen miles from the city. Delmar brought me forward, no longer feeling the need for a rear guard. We started seeing farms just five miles later, and the road turned into dirt. I was walking next to Firth, and he explained, “The plebians probably pulled the paving stones to build their homes in this area after the road went into disuse.”

We got a lot of looks from the farmers in the fields. We were a battered legion company with a number of men missing pieces of armor. The road intersected another road along the river. A road marker indicated that the city of Lignum was forty miles to the northeast, and the city of Loule was twenty miles along the southwest. The city of Sobral—if it could be called a city was just a mile along the road following the river.

As we approached the Sobral, it did not have the fancy Roman arches or columns found in the capital. All the buildings surrounding the central Citadel were mostly aging wood. The stone that could be found was coarse-cut and not polished. There was no city wall, just a wall surrounding the Citadel on the far side of the city sprawl. The roads were not straight, and we had to weave our way to the gates of the Citadel.

“Harpy’s tits,” Firth swore, “That has to be the worst-looking brothel I have ever seen.” He was indicating a one-story wooden structure with dark blue paint. Its sign read The Nasty Nymph, and the image on the sign left no doubt what they offered within.

We found only two guards at the large gate. The mortar on the wall surrounding the Citadel was crumbling. Castile announced herself, and we were allowed to pass. At least the Citadel itself looked to be in good repair. And there were a lot of glass windows on the towering structure. In a wheezing voice, Konstantin was at my right and told me, “The Count who ruled this city before it was made into a duchy for Victoria was a mage who specialized in making glass. Shipped it all over the Empire.”

Konstantin caught his breath, “When he died ten years ago, the Emperor sent a baron to run things. He did a terrible job, and the population shrunk. He gave it to his favorite granddaughter to see how good she could rule and if she could bring it back to prosperity.”

The young Duchess came down to greet us as we entered the courtyard. She had two men, both soldiers flanking her, and a young maid on her hip. The Duchess had on a bright white dress with blue highlights. She smiled as she addressed us, “Mage Castile, thank you for taking my assignment request. You and your men will be quartered in the Citadel while you complete the assigned task.”

That statement got happy murmurs from everyone. We followed the Duchess into a large entry hallway with stained glass windows showing scenes of legionaries fighting various monsters. Our dirty boots and foul odor made it feel like we should not be walking on the polished marble floor. The Duchess turned twice down hallways, and we entered a massive dining room with a long table. There were plenty of place settings for everyone.

The Duchess went to sit at the head of the table. “Castile, if you and your leaders could sit close, we will discuss things as dinner is prepared and served.”

Adrian was brave enough to ask, “Do you not want us to clean up first?”

The maid behind her answered, “Baths are being drawn in the guest quarters. We were expecting you by barge and had a rider upriver waiting. He would have given us some warning, but your arrival by road surprised us.” The young woman sounded slightly upset.

The Duchess just smiled and waited while we sat. I was a little surprised when Castile had me seated to her left. Delmar and Adrian were across from us. The Duchess sat at the head of the table. Castile smiled and addressed the Duchess, “Now, can you tell me why you really wanted us here?”

The young Duchess smiled, “In good time! Try the wine from the Esenhem elves.”


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