AA3 18 - Cooperation (Patreon)

“Master!” Dirk called out as Verdan and the others approached the group at the gate.

Verdan looked over to see his apprentice running over to him with a flushed face and gestured for the rest to carry on. “I’ll speak with him. It will be only a moment.”

Jarn glanced back and grunted before carrying on to where Ciaran and the others were waiting, Verdan’s companions following behind him.

“Master, I want to come with you!” Dirk blurted as he all but skidded to a halt next to him.

Verdan began to refuse but caught himself and turned the question back on his apprentice instead. “Why should I let you?”

“Because I can help. I can cast air blades now, and I’ve been working hard on my shields,” Dirk said, calming down a little as the words poured out.

“Do you think you’d make more of a difference by adding your power to mine or staying here and being able to help Gwen if something goes wrong?”

“With you?” Dirk made it into a question, his shoulder slumping slightly as he saw the answer in Verdan’s eyes.

“If that is the only reason, then you should stay here. You could save lives if the camp were attacked,” Verdan said softly, reaching out to grip Dirk’s shoulder and turn him so he could see the Kranjir camp. “People also need protection here, providing that is no small thing.”

Verdan could see that Dirk was taking in his words, so he squeezed his shoulder before letting go, intending to go and join the rest of them.

“It’s not the only reason,” Dirk spoke in little more than a whisper, but a chill went down Verdan’s spine as he heard the naked hunger in his apprentice’s voice. 

“Then why?” Verdan turned back to Dirk, keeping his expression carefully neutral as he saw the raw emotions playing across the younger Wizard’s face.

“My friends, my family, we were all driven out because there was no one strong enough to make a difference. I want to come with you to learn to be strong enough that I can be that person, that I can stop the same thing happening to other people.” Dirk’s voice was filled with regret and anger in equal measure, his accent thicker than it had been in a long time.

Verdan wanted to say no, wanted to make Dirk stay behind where it was safe, but he couldn’t do it. “You will listen to everything I say, you will do exactly what I tell you to, and you will stay close to me at all times, understood?”

“What?” Dirk blinked rapidly with a stunned expression as he processed Verdan’s words. “I mean, yes!”

“Good, do you need to say goodbye?”

“Erm, no, I don’t think so,” Dirk said, glancing back at the camp awkwardly as he all but shuffled in place. 

“Go, tell her you love her and what you’re doing, and meet us back here in five minutes. Any longer than that, and we’re leaving without you, understood?”

Dirk nodded with wide eyes before sprinting back toward the camp, leaving Verdan to head over to where a dozen mail-clad Kranjir warriors were gathering around the two Chosen.

The two trackers that would be leading them stood off to one side, dressed in hides rather than armour and carrying unstrung bows.

“Final checks, we leave in two minutes,” Ciaran called out as Verdan joined them.

“Chosen, a moment?” Verdan called out, catching Ciaran’s attention before quietly explaining the situation to him.

“Make that five, but be ready for a hard march,” Ciaran called out, giving Verdan a reluctant nod. 

“If I may, why are you not using the enchanted equipment I provided?” Verdan asked before the Chosen had a chance to walk away.

“That equipment is promised to the Clan to help in the fight against the Darjee. It is needed there far more than here.” 

“I see. Thank you for explaining,” Verdan said, this time letting Ciaran leave to go speak with the other Chosen.

It seemed shortsighted, as Verdan could restore any expended Aether, which made him wonder if this was partially an effort to not be further beholden to him.

Verdan frowned slightly to himself before filing the information away for another time. This wasn’t the moment to push for answers.

Dirk returned to them a few minutes later, his cheeks red but his eyes burning with determination.

Ciaran gave the signal as soon as Dirk joined them, and the gates were pushed open as the rescue party headed out.

It was late afternoon, so the sun was steadily dipping down to the horizon, giving them only a limited window to find where the survivors had been taken.

Ciaran gave them a bit more of an explanation as they began to head north-west. The caravan had actually passed the village in question earlier in the day, though they hadn’t really come close to it.

The outriders had taken long enough to scout the area and look over the tracks that the caravan had almost reached the outpost when they returned.

While this wasn’t ideal, the tracks did come near to where the caravan was holed up, so they were able to get onto the trail without much travelling.

Two more trackers were waiting for them at a seemingly predetermined point, their expressions grim as they reported in to Ciaran and Jarn.

Verdan considered getting close to hear the report, but giving Ciaran some space right now was likely the best move. More information would be good, but Verdan had decided to put his trust in Ciaran for this.

Needing to distract himself while the trackers conferred, Verdan slipped over to Barb while Dirk was distracted.

“I have a request, a favour I would owe you,” Verdan whispered softly to the stern Kranjir as her eyes flicked over to him. “I need Dirk looking after during all this. If things get bad, I won’t be able to give him my attention, and I would find that easier if I knew he had a protector.”

Barb looked over at Dirk, her expression softening for a moment before she nodded and whispered back. “You can rely on me; I’ll keep him safe when it all goes straight to the Abyss.”

“Thanks, Barb,” Verdan said, feeling a sense of relief flow through him. “That’s a weight off my mind. I will remember this.”

“You gave me back my hand,” Barb said, turning to pierce Verdan with an intent look as she lifted her prosthetic up. “Consider this a partial repayment of that. Besides, I like him, and I’m not blind to what he represents.”

“The trackers have confirmed the location of the enemy,” Ciaran called out, catching the attention of the group as he lifted his axe. “We are an hour away at a good pace, which means we can be there with light to spare. The trackers saw lots of movement, but our foe remains unknown. Time is precious, let’s move.”

A rumbling of assent came from the Kranjir as the group began to march once more, with Barb shifting over to be closer to Dirk and giving the younger man a friendly smile.

“I don’t like that they still don’t know what enemy we are facing,” Kai said softly enough that the words didn’t carry beyond Verdan’s ear.

“Agreed, but I understand the urgency.”

“As do I, but I am concerned that the Chosen feel that they have something to prove to us.”

“Perhaps, but the end result will still be the rescue of any captives. That is my primary concern here.”

“The same end result, yes, but perhaps a bloodier method of getting there,” Kai said grimly before shaking his head. “I do not think this rescue is for our benefit, though, which speaks well to the Clans.”

Verdan nodded, not wanting to argue with Kai. To his mind, acting like this was the basic requirement of anyone with the power to do so. That was one part of the Imperium that Verdan would never let die.

The two of them lapsed into silence, lost in their thoughts, as the group marched on.

The terrain around them was still thick with trees, which slowed them somewhat, but where possible, the trackers led them through large clearings or areas that were less thickly forested.

Eventually, they came to a stop at the edge of a large depression, giving them a view of a hill that had been shattered at some point in the past.

Half of the hill rose and curved normally, but the side facing them had been broken and torn apart, leaving jagged, exposed areas of rock along with dozens of boulders scattered around the area.

Most importantly, however, was that within that exposed section of the hill was an entrance to a cave of some sort. 

There was little vegetation around the boulders and the cave entrance, and Verdan could see a few logs had been stacked to one side. Clearly, this was an active home for something.

Stacked logs indicated a level of intelligence that was concerning, especially considering that whoever lived here was responsible for the death of dozens of villagers.

“This is the place,” Ciaran kept his voice somewhat hushed as he backed away from the lip of the depression, and they all gathered close. “The smart move would be to watch and wait, but each hour we wait might mean the death of an innocent. It is a risk to attack with so many unknowns, but a risk I am willing to bear. Are you with me?”

A chorus of angry murmurs sprang up from the Kranjir as weapons were drawn and armour was tightened, ready for the battle to come.

“Good,” a fierce smile spread across Ciaran’s face as Jarn nodded approvingly. “The archers will move to flank the entrance and fire down on the enemy from above. Meanwhile, Jarn and I will draw the attention of whatever is within the cave. When they emerge to fight us, Padraig, you will lead the war band in a charge down into their flank. Questions?”

“Where would you have us support you?” Verdan asked.

“I will give you leave to join whichever part best suits your magic,” Ciaran said after a moment of thought.

“Very well. Kai will join the two of you at the front while the rest of us will provide support from the flanking group.” 

Ciaran frowned and began to say something before cutting himself off and giving a jerky nod before looking over to the trackers. “Get into position. Once you’re ready, we will begin.”

The four trackers nodded silently and hurried off through the woods with the practiced ease of veteran hunters.

A thick layer of tension lay over them all as they waited for the trackers, and Verdan couldn’t help but notice how separate they looked. There were the two Chosen, the Kranjir warriors and then Verdan and his group.

Deciding that some goodwill was important in these last few minutes before combat, Verdan walked over to the Kranjir warrior that Ciaran had picked out as leader of the flanking force.

Padraig was a tall and heavily scarred warrior, both from battle and through an elaborate caelin. He was also older than the other warriors, and the wary look in his eyes reminded Verdan of the best of the imperial guardsmen whom he had worked with.

“I apologise, but I don’t know your culture well enough to know how to greet you,” Verdan said to the imposing warrior, deciding that blunt honesty was best with such a man.

A touch of amusement crossed Padraig’s eyes as he inclined his head to Verdan. “Well met, Wizard. I am Padraig, a Blade of the Thearn. We can speak of manners later when we are not about to enter battle. What do you need?”

“You will be leading the charge for the flanking group, correct?” Padraig nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Good, then I would like to temporarily enchant your weapons to help us make the most impact.”

All the nearby warriors went still as Padraig turned to the two Chosen, who shared a conflicted look until Ciaran eventually gave the slightest of nods. “I agree, Wizard; what do you need me to do?” 

“Gward torr,” Verdan reached out and tapped the axe that Padraig carried, infusing it with Aether, before doing the same to his armour. “Gward nercreth. There, your axe will cut even magically resistant creatures, and your armour will shrug off most mundane attacks for a time.”

Verdan had made sure to give the enchantments plenty of Aether, enough to hopefully see Padraig through the coming battle. The last thing he wanted was for them to fail partway, after all.

“I can feel the power,” Padraig whispered, staring down at his weapon with wide eyes before looking over to Ciaran with a stunned expression.

The Chosen gave the other Kranjir a shake of his head and a firm look before looking over his shoulder as a distant bird call reached them.

“That’s the signal, it is time.”