Avarice Unfortunate Sons

Now that I have completed Captive Heart. I can return to my favorite universe. Expect releases to be more frequent. Thanks for reading guys...

Quest for Blacksteel

Sven and Aran had reconvened in the strangest of valleys. It was a truly unique environment; it appeared freakishly otherworldly. The soft, ochre earth beneath the stones had, over time, eroded due to the gradual action of rain and wind. Leaving spires and pinnacles. The rocks that had created them were still sitting precariously on their tops. The steep valley sides had protected this strange moonscape from the most tumultuous weather, and it had continued to exist as its own microcosm. Quite unlike everything else above.

In this odd backdrop the two brother's sat for a few moments before beginning to ride southwest in silence. They were both weary from battle. Sven and Aran were seasoned warriors inured to violence. Whereas warriors that were new to battle may have spoken for hours about their exploits and near misses. These men had no words at all.

Having to leave the settlement in haste, they possessed only the clothes on their backs, their weapons, and the horses. They lived off the land and slept rough. Aran, who was familiar with the route from his prior banishment, led the way.

There was much time for introspection. Long, often silent hours on horseback, and always one of the brothers had to remain awake to keep watch over their prisoner.

Aran slumbered on the bare earth. The night was far from cool. A scorching northerly blew gustily. The superheated interior of the continent warmed the night breeze, and at times the temperatures were still well into the nineties, persisting even after sunset. This was one such evening. They had lit a small fire, only enough to cook on. It was by now extinguished.

Sven sat leaning against a tree on watch. He didn't even have the luxury of a saddle to lay his head. Neither brother did. He was looking up at the stars, the broad swathe of light spectacular in the heavens. Wondering what he should do? He wanted to go to Murray Bridge, to see what society now held. To be a part of it. Yet to Aran, that option was denied. Sven was torn. With his military background, there was potentially plenty of work for him in this new age. He could begin again, but he couldn't just leave his brother.

Then there was the matter of Raissa. He hated to think it, as a eunuch, his manhood stolen all for a secret he didn't possess. He could no longer please any woman. Raissa was young, many years his junior. He had only married her because he had thought it the right thing to do when little Eirik came along. Even to think about his little boy's recent loss stung. Sven had repressed those feelings. Tonight in the dark though, they were close, and he felt tears dampening the corners of his eyes, and his breathing constricted with his upset. Something he rarely let himself experience.

He wiped at his eyes, so very glad that no one could see his outpouring. Their prisoner was also asleep, his arms uncomfortably laced behind him around a tree. Sven could at least be alone tonight with these thoughts and feelings. He knew in his heart that he needed to let Raissa go. He must let her find someone she loved, because he knew that man was not him. Let her be free. But that would involve admitting that he was wrong, and returning north to locate the caravan. No easy task, yet not impossible.

He shifted his position on the hard earth and told himself that that was a thought for another day. Right now, though, they had to come up with a plan as to how they were going to breach Master Jacques' compound, and how, god forbid, they could steal that damnable sword.

*****

In the darkness, Jormugar felt every move of the gaunt mare beneath him. Her stumbling gait, her deep breaths. She was as uncomfortable as he was. With his arms bound behind his back, Jormugar was glad he was an accomplished rider. With only the reliance on his balance and skill to keep him on his mount.

Sven and Aran's pace was relentless. They pushed the horses just hard enough to cover the maximal amount of ground each evening, but not so hard that the animals faltered. It appeared that Aran was most eager to get to Master Jacques's compound.

Jormugar dwelt on his problem as the miles went by. How could he tell Aran that his presence was just as unwelcome as the brothers' were in Jacques's compound? The bounty hunter was an employee, not a friend of the slaver. Yet he knew Aran would not understand this. He couldn't just walk into the compound; he would be summarily enslaved. As his former employer had promised.

Perhaps, he could speak with the elder brother. Even that action seemed intimidating. Aran and Sven were close, and he had so far been presented with no opportunity to talk with Sven alone. He had to think of something. His time to tell them was fast running out. There was no way he was going to enter that compound and live the rest of his life in chains.