Back down the path, Lovell cursed and struggled to rise. His arm poured blood from a deep gouge from the javelin. Rhunal noticed and got up off the ground, leaving the dead skirmisher behind.
“Are you alright Lovell?” she asked unnecessarily.
“It’s ... not that bad,” Lovell lied unnecessarily, gritting his teeth.
She shook her head, “it’s not good. Hold still and let me help you.” She held out her glowing hand, the edges of her skin luminescent from bright green of her healing magic.
Lovell continued to clutch his arm as he looked at her hand dubiously. “I’ve never worked with a healer before. What’s it feel like?”
She shrugged, “it hurts? But it works fast. You’re bleeding badly, just let me fix it.”
*
Brondulf stared down at the two very dead men. Both had died quickly. Hugh came running up the path towards him. He had heard the sounds of the fight and come running to help.
“Holy shit!” Hugh said, panting a bit. “I saw the end of that. I am sorry. I never should have tried to turn you away at the gate.”
Brondulf shrugged, “these men were not well trained. Did you expect me to fail?"
“Maybe not, but two men against one is a dangerous situation for any man. I've seen large fighters like yourself only good because of size with no skill. It seems you really have seen a lot of combat.”
“I’ve been it a lot of organized fights. But they never ended like this. They always walked away breathing. Or were carried away breathing."
“You’ve never killed a man? Not even by accident?” Hugh asked, surprised.
“I know my own strength. I’ve never had a reason to kill anyone. I’m not sure what to think of it.”
Hugh nodded, “Well that’s a better reaction than some. Some men immediately throw up. Others get an unhealthy fascination from lethal combat. Anyway we better get ba-”
A loud inhuman scream pierced the air from back up the path!
“More enemies, really?” Hugh shouted, “Come on!” Hugh took off running with Bron in pursuit.
With his large strides, he passed Hugh quickly. For all his bulk, he was not slow. He rounded the path and saw just two people, Lovell and Rhunal. No enemies were in sight, but something was wrong. Lovell had his shortsword out and was stumbling towards Rhunal slashing at her furiously. She stepped back, narrowly avoiding his reach.
“What the hell did you do to me!” Lovell howled. His wound had mostly stopped bleeding and was half closed up, but it glowed with an odd sickly-red glow.
“I was fixing your arm!” she yelled back. “It has never done this before!”
Lovell fell to his knees in front of her still clutching his shortsword. “Fix it? It felt like you were burning my skin off!”
Hugh finally reached the pair. “Lovell, hold still. It’s me.”
Lovell looked up. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was dangerously pale. It took him longer than it should have for him to recognize his boss. “This witch tried to kill me.”
“We’ll figure it out Lovell,” Hugh said grimly. He put his hand against Lovell’s forehead. “You’ve got a fever. Stay down and take deep breaths.”
Hugh turned back to her with a grim expression, “What the hell kind of magic did you use on Lovell?”
“It’s healing magic! I wouldn’t try to hurt him!"
“What’s the spell called?”
“It... I don’t know what it is called. It’s my magic. It came to me when I was a youth and I’ve known it instinctively ever since.”
Hugh’s grim expression wavered a bit. “Instinct. That’s a word that came up a lot when I talked to that orc shaman I used to know. You might have some of that blood in you after all. I don’t know about the rest of your magic, but your healing is definitely orcish.” He sighed. “Unfortunately that means our party no longer has a healer.”
“What!” Rhunal protested ,“I’ve used it before on others for smaller cuts and scrapes!”
“They were lucky you didn’t kill them.” he said flatly. “They probably felt somewhat sickly afterwards, but didn’t know why. It is a known side effect of shamans that using their healing and strengthening magic on humans will poison them. This was used by some of the more warlike shamans years back as a weapon.”
Lovell sat up, “what the hell kind of mage are you!” His eyes were gradually clearing up, and he was feeling more lively.
“I learned all the rest of what I knew from my master!”
Hugh stepped towards her, “Did you learn any master level spells from him? Are you a novice trying to pretend at being a practicing mage? ”
“No! I did learn them. I spent six long years learning everything he knew!”
“Then why didn’t you use any more powerful spells during that fight?”
“I... the difference doesn’t matter,” Rhunal acknowledged, defeat in her voice. “I have knowledge of every spell my master does. I know them inside and out. But, I can’t cast them. I can’t channel the energy required. Master grew disappointed with me. And I ran away.”
Hugh shook his head, “Well I’m glad you’ve finally decided to be honest now that we are less than a day from our target. Judging by this ambush, the thieves may be even more numerous than I had originally thought.”
“Well, technically speaking they are four less numerous,” Lovell quipped.
“If you have energy to joke, you can’t be hurt too bad.” Hugh observed.
“I will check the bodies and see if they have anything that identifies them.” Brondulf, who had been watching it all play out, finally said. His loud footsteps disappeared back up the path where he had killed two men.
“So now my party has no healer and half a mage. You’re an orc who isn’t a fighter is that correct? Be honest now, no more lies or half truths.”
“I’ve never trained with a weapon before.” Rhunal admitted.
“You ran away from your teacher, who is likely a powerful and influential mage.”
Rhunal hesitated, but knew admitting she was actually a slave was not a good idea. Besides it didn’t really change anything. Hugh now knew she had run away and that was enough.
“Yes, I ran away without his permission.”
“What are the odds this teacher of yours catches up to us and takes you back?”
She shook her head, “He has no idea where I am right now. I didn't announce my departure.”
“I can not take a novice mage into a fight like we have coming up.”
“I’m not a novice!”
“It doesn’t make a difference. It is impossible for a mage to wear armor and still create magic. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes. Barring certain sects of clerics.”
"Well we established you aren't a cleric. So I would be bringing you, unarmored and lacking any fighting ability, and not packing enough magical ability to keep enemies away from you.”
“With a good hit to the head my firebolt can kill!” Rhunal protested.
“So can a rock.” he said dryly. “And it’s harder to see coming and avoid. I said before that a party has to operate like a team and cover its strengths and weaknesses. But, by that logic, a weak member of the group makes everyone more vulnerable.”
“I’m not weak! I’m not afraid to fight.” Rhunal stood straight to her full height, trying to look imposing.
“If you go against a trained warrior you should be.” he said sternly. “I don’t mean that you are physically weak. You’re a young orc and could probably take down even a trained brawler in a fight. But a skilled swordsman could cut you to ribbons in a matter of seconds. No party would let one of their members get cut down. So we would step in to help you. This would take us off the front line and could lead to the whole group getting wiped out.”
He bent down over the fallen skirmisher and picked up his shortsword. He held the handle out to Rhunal.
“At least you’ll be better armed than before.”
Rhunal sighed, “So you are sending me away? But maybe you are right. I’m not a fighter after all.”
Despite his frustration, he gave her an attempt at an encouraging smile. “Go back to your teacher. And if your magical training is still stifled, then consider learning how to fight. You have courage. Given training you could become a great warrior. We are still far enough south that the road should be safe to travel. I’ll give you enough food for a couple days.”
She wanted to thank him, but so was so conflicted that she didn’t say anything at all.
He went over to his pack and started rummaging through it. He took out three days worth of smoked provisions and handed it to her. If you simply follow the road back the way we came you can’t get lost.”
Rhunal looked back at Hugh for a long second then nodded and started walking away. Where could she go now? No answer was forthcoming.
Bron finally returned with a single rolled up parchment in his hand.
“Hey, where is Rhunal going?”
“Home,” Hugh said flatly. “We’ll be a party of three from now on.”
“Oh... I see. This note identifies the leader of these bandits.” Bron never seemed to yell, but his voice was deep and carried almost as well as if he had. "Do you know who Taino is?”
Lovell shook his head and walked over to Bron. His eyes were clear now, and whatever damage Rhunal had done to him seemed to have passed. Her magic, whatever it was, had almost completely stopped the bleeding in his arm as well.
“I think I know the path to their hideout. It’s a burial crypt in the center of a swamp." Lovell stood to his feet.
“I do know who Taino is, unfortunately.” Hugh sighed, “I was almost hoping that this group of four was all the thieves, and that we could find their lair empty. But if Taino is the boss we are out of luck there. He was known to have a band of up to ten men.”
Brondulf’s loud bass voice carried down the path where Rhunal was walking. She heard the name Taino, stopped in her tracks, drew the sword, and plunged it into the dirt road with a guttural snarl!
For Rhunal also knew who Taino was. She more than knew who he was. He was someone she would never allow herself to forget.
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