“What happened?” I asked, my curiosity piqued by his disquieted expression. Adesh was not one to be easily intimidated.
“We lost the Irwings,” he answered, his voice somber. “Calder and Yarmin rode past their farm during one of their normal patrols two days ago. They are all dead.”
I stared at him, my mind racing as I recalled the friendly Human family who had lived east of the Sommerhalts. “Even the children?”
Brim cleared his throat next to me. “A bloody nightmare,” he murmured, taking a deep draw of his ale.
“Everyone,” Adesh confirmed. “Down to the last animal in the barn.”
“Rakash?” I asked. It was not uncommon for groups of roguewarriors to cross the border in the south from time to time and attack the nearest settlements.
“Some of it looked like their handiwork, yes. That’s why Calder has been so agitated, though at least he was wise enough not to blurt out what happened in the village square.” The sharp lines of Adesh’s narrow face twitched with distress. “It gets worse. They found the entire family in the main room of the house, arranged in a circle and bled out as if… as if someone used their life force for some kind of fucked-up ritual.”
The mention of a magical ritual sent a stab of dread through me. Could it be another one of the Chiasma, searching for Noctis?
For a long moment we were all silent, taking in the lively bustle of the tavern, most patrons still blissfully unaware that danger was creeping closer with every passing day.
“Have you buried them yet?” I forced myself to ask, distracting myself with practicalities.
Adesh shook his head. “Calder and Yarmin got spooked and burned down the entire building.”
A shame. I would have loved for Kyree to have taken a look at the victims.
“They brought this with them, though,” the commander added, handing me a small, blackened object. “A piece of the ropes that were used to bind them.”
It was thin and oddly pliable, no longer than my outstretched hand. An odd feeling went through me as I touched it—a pulse of awareness that echoed through my very bones with a malevolence that made me shudder. A malevolence I had not felt for many years.
“Magic,” I murmured. Not the power oflyr-stones or an inherent ability. No, the kind that required sacrifice. Sacrifice and blood.
“Keep it.” Adesh narrowed his eyes on the ropewhen I tried to give it back. He was obviously glad to be rid of it. “Something tells me you might know better than me what it means.”
Brim leaned forward in his seat, catching my gaze again. “Well, as you can see, our soldiers and this village would benefit greatly from your experience.”
“They are good people,” Adesh added with a wry smile. “But they are young and have not seen much battle. I’m the oldest of the bunch, and I was still wet behind the ears when the war ended.” He breathed deeply. “We could really use your help, Rada.”
His expression reminded me of the winter many years ago when I had first met him. He’d been barely more than a child, the sword at his hip—the only thing left to him by his Djein father—so long it trailed on the ground when he wasn’t careful. His threadbare cloak had been mended so often it was more patches than fabric. He had been so thin, his vibrant green eyes enormous in his pale face.
“Miss, do you have some work for me?” he had asked, nervously scuffing his boots, as I prepared to leave for my farm after market day. I had given him a place to stay over the winter, and thankfully, a few good meals had brought the color back into his cheeks.
A sigh escaped me. While I could understand their request, coming to Dalath for more than a few days was just not possible.
“I would love to help you,” I tried to evade. “But as you know, I have my farm and the animals to think of. The araks need to be brought up to the summer pastures, and—”
Mayor Brim interrupted me at once, his mustache vibrating with excitement. “Ah, ah! No worries. I already talked with the Council. You would be compensated for your help, of course. We can buy some grain and hay for the araks to get you through the summer.”
“And I have drawn up a plan for us to take turns pitching in on thefarm,” Adesh said, his expression suspiciously innocent. “A lot of us know our way around there, after all.”
I could hardly argue with that, as I had made a habit of offering the Sundered work—a small attempt to ease some of the pain the war had caused them. Not that it would ever be enough.
“Are you cornering me?” I asked, taking in the identical expectant smiles on the faces of the two very different men. My voice held no bite, though. Part of me was glad about the offer. I had felt a strange restlessness since the first signs of Chaos rising once more, a need to do something to protect those I had grown to care for.
Even if I did not have the power of a goddess to help them, I could do something.
“There is one slight… complication,” I said. My animals were not the only thing keeping me bound to my farm. If those mysterious attackers were after Noctis, they would find him sooner or later. “I have an old friend staying with me right now.”
Mayor Brim’s enthusiastic smile did not waver. “Oh, yes, I heard. Your friend fought in the war as well, didn’t he? So he has fighting experience? Another warrior to help train the soldiers would not be amiss. I can surely persuade the other elders to approve a bit more money.”
“That’s a splendid idea,” Adesh chimed in. Yes, a splendid idea. Like inviting a fox into a henhouse and telling it to have some fun.
