Severance Lost (Fractal Forsaken Series Book 1) Read online

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  HOMECOMING

  A headache and a rather empty feeling greeted Slate in the morning. The wise and eccentric wizard who led their group during their travels was gone, Rainier was stoking the fire, and Sana remained asleep. In his absence, Lucus ordered Sana to accompany the group back to Ravinai, a kindness for which Slate was extremely grateful.

  Anticipating the completion of their journey, Slate gently shook Sana awake. When he touched her shoulder, Sana flung back her blanket, grabbed Slate’s arm, and rolled on top of him, pinning Slate to the ground with the flash of a knife. The knife looked dangerous, and Sana looked like she knew how to use it.

  Slate tried to calm her nerves. “…um…good morning to you, too…?”

  Sana kept her face serious, but Slate detected a hint of embarrassment at her actions. “I’m sorry. Old habits die hard.” Sana stood up and returned the knife to a hidden pocket in the sleeve of her robe. Looking to change the subject, she said, “Are we going to Pillar or are you two planning to sit around this campfire all day? Go fetch some water to douse the fire. Lucus must have taken the sense right out of you when he left.” Rainier got up and went toward the stream, laughing at the entire course of events and the all-too-serious Sana. That did little to brighten Sana’s mood, but Slate was in high spirits with thoughts of home.

  “So how long have you been looking for an excuse to roll around with me?” Slate gave a smirk. She had already pulled a knife on him. What else could she do?

  “Did that line work for you in Pillar? I don’t fantasize about rolling around on a bed of rocks.” Sana’s response discouraged Slate, but the sons of Pillar had great reserves of persistence.

  “In Pillar, we make do with what we have. Opportunities to be alone in a small town are scarce, but a bed of rocks can always be found.” Sana looked unimpressed, so Slate tried honesty. “…but to answer your question, no. The girls in Pillar didn’t like that line either.”

  “I hoped you had more to offer than lousy attempts at flirtation.” The condemnation didn’t discourage Slate.

  “I’ve had little use for a sharp tongue in my life, but a simple tongue does not equate to a simple person.” Slate finally coaxed a smile from Sana.

  “You’re right, Slate…and simple comments like that make me believe you could handle a little complication in your life.”

  Stopping while he was ahead, Slate gathered his things and the three left for Pillar, with Slate leading the way through familiar territory and the group discussing their arrival.

  “What are you looking forward to the most?” Rainier asked.

  “When I first see my father, he will be reserved out of respect for the town rules I broke by fighting in the tournament, but later on he will want to know the details of every bout. He might even ask us to recreate our match, Rainier, so be prepared to lose again.”

  Rainier countered. “What did Villifor say? You would lose to Magnus nine fights out of ten? Well, even those odds are favorable in comparison to a rematch against me.”

  “Are you excited to end our journey?” Slate asked in return.

  Rainier stretched and cracked his back. “The tribe travels constantly, but that doesn’t mean I’m used to sleeping on the ground every night. Let’s try to make it to Pillar tonight.”

  With their goal set, the group made good time through the sparsely vegetated ground and reached the foothills of the mountains at sundown. The most common way for travelers to reach Pillar was from the Northeast, in the direction of the only road, but Lucus’ direct route through the woods had them approaching from the Southeast. Slate took a little known and seldom used path past Old Man Leatherby’s farm. He was as tough as the stone around him and found Pillar to be too metropolitan for his tastes, preferring the solitude of the village outskirts.

  “I thought you said no one farmed in Pillar?” Rainier queried Slate.

  “I said farming was difficult. Old Man Leatherby has planted crops in this rocky ground for years, but even with his devoted attention, he never grows more than enough to feed a few half-starved cattle through the winter.” The persistence of Leatherby was admirable, if nothing else.

  “I don’t see any cattle,” Sana stated and Slate saw she was right. Even in the low light, the cattle should have been visible. There wasn’t light in Leatherby’s windows or smoke from the chimney either.

  “Let’s pay Leatherby a visit.” The group approached his home and knocked but got no response. Slate peered through a window and saw no signs of recent activity. Did Leatherby die while he was in Ravinai? He was often short of breath and his mother expressed concern for Leatherby living alone. “We’ll find out what happened to him in Pillar.”

  Rainier gave Sana a sideways look and asked Slate, “Did Old Man Leatherby leave his property very often? You’ve had a way of attracting trouble lately.”

  “Well, no, but this is Pillar. Trouble doesn’t find its way out here.”

  Sana added, “Maybe we should take a lesson from the Sicarius headmaster and try to get a view from on high? Is there a foothill around here with a clear view of town? I’d rather arrive a little later and be sure it’s safe.”

  Slate appreciated their concerns, but people didn’t contrive nefarious plots in this far corner of the world. Sana and Rainier were just too accustomed to the corruption in Ravinai. Nonetheless, he wanted to appease his traveling companions. “There is a ridge that overlooks the town with large rock formations to provide cover. With the moon out tonight, we should have enough visibility to scout the town.”

  The conversation quieted as the group left Old Man Leatherby’s farm to ascend the foothill, a term Sana and Rainier found debatable. It may have been a foothill compared with the mountains towering over Pillar, but it still qualified as the most perilous climb the nomad and apprentice had ever undertaken. Recognizing their trepidation, Slate moved ahead slowly, pointing out moss and lichen covered areas on the sloped faces of rock that could give way if stepped on, leading to a nasty fall. There were several steep sections of the foothill that required a short climb and Slate patiently helped Sana and Rainier. They stood on his shoulders at times, leaving him to climb up afterwards, or he would climb up first and then reach down to help them up. He had first climbed this hill when he was five.

  Finally, the group reached the crest of the hill. Slate took up a position in the rock formations that gave him a clear view of Pillar. The western mountains rose up as a mighty backdrop, with a small stream winding toward the valley. The mine was set up near the stream and its modest entrance hid the deep caverns beyond, giving no indication that this was the sole reason for interest in Pillar from the outside world. Farther down the valley, stone houses were built into the mountain as a matter of practicality. Small footpaths connected the homes and a modest meeting hall to the stream and mine entrance. It was a small but solidly built town and its sight would have brought Slate much joy…

  …but smoke didn’t rise from the chimneys.

  Slate frantically scanned the town he knew so well. All the homes were dark and lifeless, but the moonlight didn’t provide additional detail. His eyes followed the largest path through town, the cart path from the mine entrance toward the northern exit. At the narrowest section of the valley pass, Slate saw a makeshift camp. In the camp’s torchlight Slate could barely make out the glistening armor of the Crimson Guard.

  “What have they done?” Slate whispered under his breath and dropped reflexively into an attack form, his hands tightening around the staff. Before he could sprint down the hillside in a fit of rage, Sana’s hand rested on his arm comfortingly and reason reentered his brain.

  Rainier provided his strategic assessment of their situation. “Those are trained Crimson Guard down there. We can’t go barreling into them with a full frontal assault consisting of two untrained warriors and a wizard’s apprentice.”

  Sana added her own advice, “We took the Sicarius approach by coming up here and I think we shoul
d continue to gather more information before acting. Let’s locate and incapacitate any guardsmen in this area. Then we can look around in the houses below.” It was hard to argue with Sana’s logic, but the application of it would be difficult.

  “How do we locate the guardsmen on watch? They’ve undoubtedly taken a position with good visibility and it would take a fractal’s blessing to locate them before we were seen.” An answer wasn’t readily available and Sana broke eye contact with Slate, pondering a solution. She kicked a rock back and forth, probably in frustration…which gave Slate an idea. “We need to draw their attention and get them to leave their post to investigate without raising an alarm. Then we’ll learn their positions and gain the advantage. Even something as simple as a rock landing against the stone walls of a house would do the trick. On a clear night like tonight, the noise would echo off the rocky landscape and funnel up to whatever vantage points the guardsmen have taken.”

  “We’re far enough away to escape discovery, but the town is much further than a stone’s throw away. There are machines of war that throw objects large distances such as catapults, but we are short on supplies to build something like that…” Rainier contemplated. “Would a sling work? That’s pretty simple…”

  Sana, who had already displayed her aptitude for mechanics by building various test stations for Slate, took over. She pulled out a length of the grapevine rope she created and used her knife to cut it into two equal lengths. Then she took an old shirt from Rainier’s travel sack and ripped it into a wide strip, causing Rainier to frown. None of them had clothes to spare. The strip was tied between the two vine ropes, creating a pocket to hold a stone and the two ropes were affixed to Slate’s staff. The result was a sling of similar design to that of a trebuchet. “Weapons of this type take a lot of adjustment to work accurately. We don’t have that option, so I’ll use magic to control the release of the rope while it is swinging.”

  Rainier loaded a rock into the sling, and Slate heaved the staff overhead with all the force he could muster. Halfway through his swing, the load lightened considerably and the rock disappeared into the night sky. A few seconds later, a thud sounded from within the town, even if its exact location couldn’t be determined. Slate strained his eyes into the moonlit night for signs of motion.

  Seconds turned into a minute and then a shadow passed from one house to the other. He pointed for the benefit of Rainier and Sana but didn’t take his eyes away for fear of losing his mark. The moonlight reflected off the Crimson armor just enough to track the guard as he investigated the town and then followed the mountain stream above the town and returned to his post. It was a rock formation similar to the one where they were currently hiding.

  “They are in the rock formation near the stream above town. I know the location well.”

  “Great, let’s go pay them a visit.” Rainier’s overly confident tone reappeared. Sana remained uncharacteristically quiet, with pride upon her face as she removed the sling from Slate’s staff and packed it in her travel sack.

  Slate walked a circuitous path toward the rock formation to avoid the sightlines of the guardsmen. The climb took them until the deepest dark of night, but they eventually positioned themselves with a view of the guardsmen. Within the rock formation, two guardsmen sat motionless, resting against the rocks. Apparently even Crimson Guardsmen got bored on watch, especially in such a remote location as Pillar.

  “We need to knock them out. Sana can you camouflage us like Lucus did?”

  “I’m afraid not. That’s a difficult spell I have yet to master.” The apprentice admitted. “But I do have an alternative. Grab some moss and I’ll affix it to your shoes. It should mask your approach.” Slate and Rainier both gathered some of the plentiful moss from the rocky ground. Sana then explained, “Moss loves to grow on trees, so I use the spark to make it grow on the soles of your shoes instead. You’ll lose traction but gain stealth.” They held the moss against the soles of their shoes and Sana cast her spell. Slate tried out his new boots. He would have to be extra careful of his footing, but his steps were as quiet as death.

  Rainier didn’t waste time. “I’ll circle around to the far one and you take the closer one. Let’s knock them out simultaneously.” They slipped down from their elevated perch and positioned themselves outside the rock formation, in view of each other. Slate held his staff in hand and his blood ran hot with the thought that these two could be responsible for the disappearance of the townspeople. Slate nodded to Rainier and then channeled his anger and frustration into a swing at the resting, helmeted soldier. Halfway through his swing, he heard Rainier land a quick blow to the thick neck of the other soldier, dropping him to the ground. Slate’s guard awakened at the sound of the muffled blow and reacted with astonishing speed, reaching for his sheathed sword while deflecting Slate’s blow with his other hand. Slate threw a punch, and the guardsman ignored the unconventional tactic in favor of unsheathing his sword and letting his helmet absorb the blow. It was a mistake he would regret as Slate’s stonehand shattered his jaw and dented his helmet against the rock behind him. It was a little messier than he had intended, but he managed the job without an alarm being raised.

  Sana climbed down and tied up the guardsman with her grapevine rope. Rainier began removing the guard’s armor. “We don’t want to attract attention from the main guard camp. At least from a distance they’ll assume we’re patrolling.”

  “Wait, what about me?” Sana asked.

  Rainier answered matter-of-factly, “The armor belongs to two male guardsmen. Besides, if we are discovered, we will need to fight, in which case I’ll be of more use than you.” Sana, despite her aptitude for logic, decided against using it on this occasion, souring her mood.

  Slate tried to placate her, “We’ll need a lookout anyway. Can you keep an eye on things from here and hoot like a night owl if someone is approaching?”

  Sana jutted out her jaw. “Get the armor on and get back as quickly as possible.” She then took up her post overlooking the town, ignoring Slate and Rainier.

  Slate put on the Crimson armor and tried not to laugh when he saw Rainier. The diminutive nomad looked ridiculous. The armor on Rainier jutted out at the shoulders and pretty much everywhere else.

  “Don’t say a word.” Rainier warned Slate and started down the mountainside toward Pillar, oversized armor fighting his movements every step of the way. A smirk appeared on Slate’s face as he followed Rainier down the mountain.

  The smirk faded as they approached the first house belonging to the Lampitts. A small garden grew next to the house, a small area of land painstakingly cultivated over the years to provide a few vegetables during the short growing season. Approaching the midpoint of summer, the vegetables should have grown above the soil, with leafy green rewarding all the cultivation. Instead they lay trampled in the ground. Rounding the corner of the stone house, they saw shattered windows and the wooden door barely hanging from its hinges. Slate thought of the difficulty it took to get enough wood transported from the distant forest to make that door, and it turned his stomach. He touched the splintered door, and his heart stopped. The splintered surface of the wood was dyed red in areas. Slate didn’t want to look in the door, but he had to know what was inside.

  The stone floors were darkened, and the stench of dried blood permeated his nostrils. His eyes quickly scanned the room, hoping beyond hope that the Lampitts were hiding in a bedroom or under the dining room table. When no one came running out to meet him, Slate steeled himself and started looking for clues. There were no bodies, but when he found little Lucy Lampitts’s hair tie still holding a lock of blond hair he vomited on the spot and then left the house to sit on the mountainside, breathing in as much fresh air as he could inhale.

  After an indeterminable length of time, Rainier came out of the house and found Slate. “I’m sorry you had to see that. Do you want to continue?”

  “No…yes, yes I do. I need to know what happened. What did you find out?”


  “There was quite a battle in that little house, but everything has been cleared away. There were streaks in the floor leading out the doorway. The bodies must have been loaded up and removed. I would like to look in one more house to see if it is similar, but I think we will find the same thing throughout the town.”

  “If we are only going to look inside one more house, it needs to be the one I grew up in. As much as it pains me, I need to see what happened to my parents.”

  “Which house is it?”

  “The small one by the well…” Slate pointed to a nondescript house next to the meeting hall. Rainier nodded and helped Slate to his feet. Slate marched down the small path in the mountainside as he had done countless times before. Mrs. Cleary would tell him to hurry home or that he was late for dinner. Her house was as empty and broken as the Lampitts’s. Mr. Raisedale would tell him he needed extra help in the mine, because the mine always needed extra help. No voice called after him as he passed by another broken home. Mother would look up from her small workbench set outside so she could work in the sun, gears and machine parts spread across the top and smile as he came home. The bench was intact but taken inside and flipped up against the solitary window, blocking the opening. His solidly built home had been turned into a defensive stronghold. Every opening had been sealed, save for the stone door. Slate had often questioned why his father insisted on having the impractically heavy stone door, but he had just said, “We are a simple people and we will use what is plentiful.” Slate now saw the other purpose. With the stone door closed, the house was nearly impenetrable…nearly. Slate’s mother created metal hinges for the door, but they were battered until they had given way. The heavy door had then been pulled outward, and it lay cracked on the uneven ground outside the home.