The forest welcomed the travellers with birdsong and the smell of damp earth and fresh green leaves. For the first time in days, Eirik felt the presence of wildlife and found it a refreshing change from the barren scrubland. The idea of fresh meat appealed to him and he made a mental note to set some snares before bedding down for the night.

  The trade road followed a similar route to the river and allowed them to move faster than forging a path along the bank. Hataya had been right – the trees were too dense and the undergrowth too thick for the camels to negotiate.

  As they followed the earthen road, Eirik turned his attention to the surface beneath the camels’ hooves. Dry and compacted, he didn’t expect to see much in the way of tracks, but he was surprised to find nothing recent. The ruts left by passing wagons had been taken over by clumps of grass and evidence of footprints was eroded and faint. For a trade link to the local communities, the road appeared neglected and forgotten.

  “It looks like no-one comes this way anymore,” he said, slapping an insect on the back of his neck. “I thought you said this was the main trade road in these parts.”

  “It is,” Hataya replied, “or at least, it was. This isn’t what I expected. We should have met some of the local pedlars by now.”

  They continued in silence, each locked in their own thoughts as they moved ever onward. Eirik began to have misgiving. He couldn’t explain why, but a sense of unease spread through him and set him fidgeting in the saddle to the point where Ruefin noticed.

  “What’s up? Are the insects annoying you as much as they are me?”

  “I don’t know. Something’s off.”

  Hataya immediately halted her camel and looked back at them, her dark eyes intense and wary.

  “Do we need to move faster, or hide?” she asked, shortening the reins and darting worried glanced into the trees.

  “It’s nothing like that. I don’t think there’s anyone here but us. It’s just…” he shrugged and shook his head, “there’s an odd atmosphere. That’s the only way I can describe it.”

  Picking up on Eirik’s discomfort, Yadiru moved ahead of the party, alternately sniffing the air and putting his node ot the ground. His pace increased until the camels had to break into a jog to keep up. Hataya shouted out for him to wait but the Emissary paid her no mind and broke into a full run, eventually disappearing around a bend in the road.

  “We need to slow down,” Eirik called to the others. “Yadiru doesn’t want us running into trouble. Let’s wait here until he gets back.”

  He fought the urge to chase after the dog and instead brought Lady Latrine to an abrupt halt. He stood up in the stirrups to try and see what lay ahead. Branches swayed and leaves rustled, but there was nothing else to hear. Ruefin and Hataya circled their mounts back to where he waited, Ruefin reaching for the straps holding his claymore to the saddle and began loosening them. Hataya’s fingers gripped her staff tight enough to blanch her knuckles.

  “Is this an ambush,” Ruefin asked, keeping his voice low.

  “No. This is something else. We’re not in danger but I do think something’s wrong.”

  Minutes passed with nothing but the buzzing of insects and twittering of birds. The camels became restive and started chewing at nearby foliage, their tails flicking at the flies that nipped at their hides.

  The scratch of claws on earth snapped Eirik’s attention back to the road ahead, and he saw Yadiru sprinting towards them. Jaws open and tail held high, the Emissary moved so fast he barely seemed to touch the ground. Only the puffs of dust in his wake proved he was still a creature of the earth. On reaching them, Yadiru didn’t stop running. He merely slowed enough to swerve to one side, looped around behind them and began running back up the road. This time he stopped at the bend and stared at them before barking repeatedly.

  “I think it’s safe to follow,” Hataya said,, disengaging her camel from a bush with some difficulty

  Despite the Emissary’s impatience, Eirik and his companions moved slowly and with caution. As soon as they reached him, Yadiru lead the way until they reached a turning leading west. Narrower than the road they travel, the track was also heavily overgrown and showed no signs of use. The bough’s of the trees hung low enough to force them to dismount and lead their camels on foot. The trail wound through the forest, leading them up s shallow incline that gradually steepened before leveling out onto a rough plateau. Eirik squinted through the dense foliage and his heart jumped in his chest. He pointed at what looked like the angle of a roof meeting a wall.

  “There’s a building up ahead,” he said, craning his neck for a better view.

  Hataya followed the line of his finger and gave a small nod.

  “There have been villages here for generations. Let’s go and look.”

  A sense of trepidation washed over Eirik as they moved in closer. No sounds of life filtered through the trees. No wisps of smoke from cooking fires drifted on the air. Yadiru continued to lead the way until the reached the entrance to the village.

  The rotten remains of a wooden archway leaned against an ancient tree, its broken curve hanging from a single nail. Eirik stopped short and swallowed hard, knowing what they were going to find.

  “Let’s tether the camels here,” he said, taking a mouthful of water to drive a bitter taste from his throat. “I don’t think we’ll have to leave in a hurry.”

  Ruefin gave him a strange look but nodded in agreement. Eirik drew an axe and followed the dog into a open space that had once been the heart of a hidden forest community.

  The mud-brick walls had survived largely unscathed by the fire that had torn through the settlement. Blackened husks of small huts stood in the ashes of their roofs and the charred furnishing that had once made them homes. Eirik moved slowly from one hut to the next, noting how the ashes had compacted and flattened with the passage of time. Sniffing the air, he picked up nothing but the rich odour of burgeoning nature and a faint hint of camel. The blaze that destroyed this place happened long ago.

  Glimpses of dirty white showed through the vegetation and it didn’t take much imagination to understand what had occurred. Eirik knelt down and moved the leaves aside to reveal a human skeleton woven into the undergrowth. Clothing and flesh had rotted away to leave nothing but bones. He looked closer and saw the ribs on one side had been broken and the side of the skull reduced to splinters. Nothing but a heavy weapon wielded with force could have caused such trauma.

  He got up and began searching through the wreckage for more bodies. In the background he heard Ruefin cursing in disgust as he also discovered the corpses left to rot where they fell. Hataya sat in the midst of the ruin with her head in her hands. From the movement of her shoulders, he could tell she was weeping. He finished his sweep and caught up with Ruefin where he stood at collapsed rim of the village well.

  “How many did you find?” Eirik whispered.

  “Couple of dozen. I expect there’s more under the ashes but it feels wrong to disturb them.” Ruefin took a swig from his canteen, swirled it around his mouth and spat.

  “They’ve been like this for a long time. There’s no way this happened within the last year, not the way the plants have grown over them.”

  Eirik gazed around the village with a deep sadness in his heart. He hadn’t know these people, but to see the fallen bodies slowly being reclaimed by nature as if they’d never existed depressed him. Was this everyone’s fate, to fall and be absorbed leaving barely a trace?

  “What was the point of all this?” Ruefin said, his face dark with anger. “I doubt they had riches worth stealing and it wouldn’t have been much of a fight. Who gains anything from destroying these people?” He began to pace, his hands clenching into fists and his face a mask of rage.

  Hataya still sat with her head in her hands. Eirik approached slowly and rested a hand on her shoulder. She turned her face up to his and wiped her face with her sleeve.

  “They were simple people,” she said with a catch in her voice. “They lived as their forefathers did and tended to their own business. This is a travesty.”

  “What of the other villages in these hills? Were any of them more war-like? Is there any chance this was a raid for resources oor territory?” Eirik ran through all the possibilities in his mind in the hope of finding a reason that made sense.

  “To my knowledge, no. The communities would trade with each other for whatever they needed. Everything would be there for the asking without the need for theft or violence.”

  While they talked, Yadiru wandered the ruins with his nose to the ground. Picking his way with care as if to avoid disturbing the dead, he worked through each and every one of the mud-brick shells. All at once, he froze in place with his muzzle buried up to the eyes in ash. His tail lashed furiously and he pulled his face free and bounded across the clearing towards Hataya.

  “What’s got you so excited?” Eirik watched Yadiru thrust his ash-stain muzzle into Hataya’s lap and begin to whine, his tail moving faster still.

  Hataya locked eyes with the Emissary and her brow crinkled into a frown. She glanced across at the disturbed ash, then back to the dog.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “They’ve been dead a long time. There might be nothing left,” she said.

  Eirik open his mouth to reply before realising she wasn’t talking to him.

  “Very well. I’ll try.”

  Hataya followed Yadiru to a dilapidated wreck half-filled with compacted wood ash. With great care she began scraping at the grey clumps with her bare hands. The dog assisted in loosening the hardened crust before pushing it’s nose through the loose grey powder beneath. Ruefin stood by and watched, distaste written all over his face.

  “Shouldn’t we leave them in peace? Seems a bit disrespectful.”

  “I wouldn’t normally do this,” Hataya said over her shoulder as she cleared away the layers of ash, “but I need to understand what happened here.”

  Bones appeared from beneath the ashes, blackened by the heat that destroyed the roof above. Bit by bit, Hataya unearthed a complete skeleton from its grey blanket. Eirik saw no signs of violence on the remains and presumed the victim had been struck by the falling roof and burned to death where they lay. He watched Hataya use a handful of grass to remove the last of the ash from the bones. After rinsing her hands with water from her canteen, she sat back on her heels and placed her palms together in front of her.

  Eirik presumed she was praying when she closed her eyes and her lips moved without speaking, but what followed was vastly more unsettling.

  Hataya’s eyes snapped open and green light flooded from them, lighting her face with an eerie glow. Ripples flowed around her legs and a carpet of moss spread out in a wave. Her hands reached out and cradled the skull in front of her, light streaming from her eyes and pulsing in her hands. Each breath came slow and deep, and the muscles of her face relaxed into a neutral mask.

  “Who brought this death upon you?” she whispered. “What did they want?”

  Leaves rustled and a chill wind blew through the village. Eirik shuddered and noticed how long the shadows had become.

  “What’s happening?” Ruefin asked, unable to tear his gaze away from the transformation overcoming the Greenwalker’s features.

  “I don’t know,”

  A passing shadow clung to Hataya’s face, creating the image of a stranger As her mouth moved, the voice that came forth was no longer hers and the mask-like image became more defined. A broad forehead sloped downward to a hooked nose and a wide masculine jaw. The narrow lips didn’t move but the voice could only be his.

  “...Umriah…”

  The word washed over Eirik like a distant roll of thunder. Never had he heard so much hatred and disgust expressed in a single word.

  “...shrine…” Sadness and guilt welled up so acutely the Eirik felt the prickle of tears in his eyes. Whoever this man had once been, he had died ashamed.

  “...redeem…” A plea. Plain and simple.

  Abruptly the green light vanished from Hataya’s eyes. Her hands released the skull and she slumped to one side, breathing hard. Moving as one, Eirik and Ruefin picked her up and carried her back to the well.

  “Here, drink this,” Ruefin held out his water bottle.

  Hataya drank deeply and leaned back against the crumbling stonework. Eirik soaked his cleanest kerchief and wiped the ash and tear-stains from her lined and tired face.

  “We need to talk about what just happened,” Ruefin said with the faintest hint of a tremor in his voice.

  “Not here,” Eirik replied and helped Hataya to her feet. “It’s getting late and we should make camp before we lose the light. Let’s get back on the trade road and find a quiet spot for the night.”

  A wave of relief passed through Eirik as he led his camel and his friends away from the desecrated village. He’d seen plenty of death during his military service and the battlefield held no horrors for him, but the sight of the village affected him in a deeper way. The people had lived a simple life away from the vagaries of the outside world but still it hadn’t saved them. It looked like minding one’s own business gave no protection against the actions of others.

  Shadows lengthened and twilight came upon them by the time they’d found a suitable place to soend the night. In the hollow beneath the roots of a fallen tree, Eirik built a fire while Ruefin coaxed the camels from the road and into the fringes of the forest. Unsettled by the shifting shadows, all three bleated their displeasure and made his job as difficult as possible.

  Hataya hadn’t spoken since they’d left the village, and now she sat at the fire stirring the yogurt with an oddly inward gaze. Yadiru pressed close to her side. He didn’t solicit her attention, he simply sat with her in silent support.

  Ruefin pulled out his flask, took a swig, and passed it to Eirik. The familiar tang of plum brandy seared his throat and instantly lifted his spirits. The flask was as much a part of Ruefin’s personality as his bluff humour and morning bed-farts. Eirik wiped the neck of the flask and offered it to Hataya. She sniffed it before taking a mouthful. Her eyes watered but a smile spread across her face.

  “That’s a lively brew,” she said, “where is it from?”

  “Last refill was down on the coast,” Ruefin replied, corking the flask and stowing it away. “Not much left, so it’s emergency use only until I find more.”

  They ate and drank in silence, but the tension had been broken by the plum brandy and Eirik felt the time was right for a conversation. He dipped the last of his date bread in his yogurt and chewed thoughtfully.

  “Tell us what happened in the village, Hataya. I get the feeling you saw more than we did.”

  Hataya didn’t answer immediately but he didn’t see any discomfort in her face. Perhaps she was choosing the right words.

  “I only saw a little of what took place. The people have been dead for over two years and their memories have almost faded away. That’s why I needed the most complete body to talk to. The more damaged they are, the fewer memories remain.” She sipped her yogurt and stared into the fire.

  “Who was the man we dug up?” Ruefin asked. “Was he important?”

  “He was a baker. He saw a group of armed men overrun the village, cutting down anyone who stood in their way.”

  “Men of the Umriah?” Eirik asked, remembering the words issuing from the illusory death-mask.

  “Yes. They wanted the location of the Shrine of Tsumaqui. The headman resisted until they started murdering the people one by one, threatening to torture him if they ran out of people. In the end, he gave in.”

  Eirik swallowed the last of his yogurt and gave Ruefin a significant look.

  “All this happen two years ago? Isn’t that when you said the river began to subside?”

  “It is. I’m afraid of what we’ll find at the shrine. I’m afraid the Umriah have claimed it for themselves,” Hataya shook her head sadly.

  “Ha! Then we make them give it back!” Ruefin said, thumping his fist into the earth. “It’ll be justice for those poor people.”

  “He said he wanted to be redeemed, didn’t he?” Eirik asked, raising his eyebrow at Hataya.

  “I believe he meant the village as a whole, but yes, he wanted some kind of redemption.”

  Eirik scratched his unshaven chin and contemplated their options. Any plan would hinge on reaching the shrine unseen. Not so easy when you’re travelling by camel.

  “How far are we from the shrine?”

  “It’s about three days from here to the mountain road, and then another two to the shrine. Assuming the weather doesn’t interfere.” Hataya pulled out the map and pointed to where the road to the shrine branched off. “From this point onward the road becomes steeper and the mist will make it slippery.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem for the camels,” Ruefin said with a shrug.

  “I was going to suggest we tether the camels when we get closer to the shrine and approach on foot,” Eirik said, studying the map. “We can’t risk being seen by anyone guarding the shrine.”

  “Hmm, makes sense. We could set up a base of operations and move in quietly to scout the place out. Once we know what we’re dealing with, we can make a proper plan.” Ruefin said, drawing on his experiences behind enemy lines.

  “What do you think, Hataya? Park the camels and walk the last day?”

  “It makes sense. There are only three of us and we need to be careful.”

  Eirik folded the map up and put it away. He saw Hataya’s eyes drooping and guess that the ritual she performed in the village had been both physically and spiritually draining. What they needed was a decent rest and a few days of stress-free travel to prepare for whatever waited for them at the Shrine of Tsumaqui.

  “I’ll take first watch if you guys want to get some sleep,” he said, taking a whetstone from his belt pouch and unsheathing his axes.

  “I don’t need telling twice,” Ruefin replied, immediately flopping onto his bedroll. From what Eirik could see, Hataya was already asleep with Yadiru curled into the crook of her legs. The dog, however, wasn’t asleep. The moment Eirik began attending to his blades, the orange eyes opened and regarded him across the campfire.

  “Good work today, Yadiru,” Eirik said, watching the triangular ears twitch at his voice, “we’re fortunate to have you with us.” Under normal circumstances he might have felt self-conscious talking to a dog as if it were a person, but these circumstances were far from normal. He was now certain that another being inhabited the dog, and resolved to learn more about the Court of the Winds and how best to keep them on his side.