Seeker of Truth

[Galadas]

Many a pain had washed over Reemus before he could eventually fall asleep and find the rest he needed, but it wasn’t before long that a hand nudged his shoulder, and he came back from a world of silent dreams to gaze into the face of Marshall Mikail Tora.
The tired soldier tried to speak, but felt like he was in no more strength to even lift a finger. ‘Please tell me that you’ve talked to Luchin and brought him to his senses?’ he asked with a weak voice.
Marshall Tora shook his head, sitting down on the bed next to Reemus. ‘And I’m afraid I am the barrier of more grave news,’ answered Tora. He obviously hadn’t talked to Marshall Coladar yet, but showed great need of doing so in the present. ‘I have sent many ravens to Lord Rahl, but my question remain unanswered. Whatever Luchin is planning, belongs completely to our Lord, yet he decides not to say a single thing to me. It angers me that I know not what to do to aid this attack.’
‘Then ask Luchin!’ Reemus replied, annoyed that after all those years, Marshall Tora would still expect them to be provided with information.
The man sighed. ‘I will, but you know Marshall Coladar far better than me.’
Reemus shook his head. ‘What, you want me to face him again? I don’t think that will work much,’ he replied angered. He disliked the whole situation far too much, and to be honest, he had started to fear this new crazy ass Luchin, because he was becoming unexpected. Reemus was used to the fact that he knew what his best friend was up to, no surprises. ‘I can’t besides, I’m hurt.’
‘Oh, you baby,’ Tora replied. He stood, two of his soldiers, probably his Generals since they were a little bit older than Reemus, walked in and helped the old-Marshall up to his feet. ‘We’re going to camp, they’ll heal you there.’
‘What about Luchin?’ he asked, leaning on the shoulders of the two that helped him up. He didn’t mind being brought to the new camp, knowing that he would be far away from Luchin, but he understood not why Tora wanted him with him.
‘Leave him to his bodies, he’ll come for us soon enough.’

Joan wasn’t too happy, he had thought that after all those days of traveling he was going to sleep in a normal bed for once, but that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. He stared at Lord Rahl and Mistress Elize, and waited until the was dismissed to a room where he was given a bath and clothes for travel. The bath was warm and calming, but he wasn’t. The new clothes were fine and warm, but that didn’t ease his mind. He kept on thinking, and thinking, and thinking, until he realized that he had to make do with it, because there was no way that he could get out of it.
Man up! He told himself, following a few servants down the small stairs until he reached the stables down the castle. As if the fact that he had to go again without any rest wasn’t worse enough, young Joan was expected to lend a hand as they saddled the horses and packed the weapons.
The sun was low on the sky, and his belly began to rumble for more food, though he had had enough. He joined the other man back to a small dining room, and there he saw them. The Argrenths, tearing at a piece of meat, making Joan’s need for food soon disappear.

[Cara]

Joan turned around to see Elize walk up dressed in her intimidating red leather. Her face was set in a grimace and snarl. She didn't look very happy, but Joan had learned that Elize hardly ever looked happy.
She held a golden chain in her hand which lead to a collar. Joan looked at the girl who stood besides Elize. She wore a harsh-looking collar and was dressed in white and the clothes did little to cover the scars and bruises that mottled her body. Her eyes grew large when she saw their mounts. She was pretty with a pale face surrounded by dark hair. Her vibrant green eyes looked full of fear and amazement.
Elize sent the men away as she walked up, fearless, to the Argrenths. They were shorter than horses, but hard muscle rippled down their bodies. Their heads were like that of a pitbull: square with narrow short snouts. Their teeth were as long as Joan's fingers! He stayed back, watching Elize slap one o the Argrenths with her agile. That settled it enough so she could strap their weapons onto the saddle.
Elize swung her foot over the saddle of her Argrenth. It growled, shaking its head. Elize pulled the chain attached to the girl. She stumbled forward. Joan stepped to catch her, but one look from Elize stopped him in his tracks. The girl caught herself, glaring at Joan. Joan looked back, confused. Elize was smiling.
"Joan, meet Meg. Meg, this is Joan. Now, mount up!"

Aslen sat back. She had never been this frightened in her life, as she recounted what she had learned at the Temple of the Winds.
After all was done, the room was silent.
"You are right though. There is no way that they can break through our walls and magic. We will try and wait to see what they do. Should something happen, we have the...Reckoning Spell as a last resort..."

Luchin looked at necklace his sister had given him. It was simple, yet so beautiful. It was a wooden bird that she had carved for him. This is for you, Meg. To keep you safe."
"Marshall?" Luchin turned to see Evana. "Are you alright, sir?"
"What? Oh, yes. I was just checking up on something," Luchin said, tucking the bird away. “I was just thinking...” He looked to the east, worried.
“What is it?” Evana asked, looking concerned.
“It is late...Late!” Luchin said, more to himself than her.
Evana looked at the direction he was looking but didn’t understand. “Marshall Coladar, how exactly do you plan on getting into Aydindril.
Luchin looked at her, and there was a bright gleam in his eye. It was frightening almost. “Magic built this city. Magic will tear it down.”

[Galadas]

The sun was setting in the sky, the whole day had passed and all Evana had seen were corpses flying over the walls of the city, and it was disgusting. She had also managed to stab Reemus, which she didn’t feel too good about, and get frightened by Marshall Colodar. It was frightful to know that she didn’t get where he was getting at with his plan. It could be anything really, and she could only fear for the worst.
With a small hesitation in her step, she walked across the field to the camp set up to the East of Luchin’s camp. It was far bigger, far healthier and screams of joy came from wherever she saw a small cooking fire. She doubted it was getting time of lunch, but the soldiers had just finished their tents, and she accepted their choice of eating next. She figured their breakfast would’ve been light, seeing her father really raced to the spot when he figured coming over.
The guards in front of her father’s tent seemed to recognize her and let her through. One warned her that Marshall Tora wasn’t in a good mood. But when was he ever. He was always brooding, he could only smile when they weren’t making ready for a battle.
‘Father,’ Evana said, after having coming in through the flap, watching the Generals that were in the tent with her father. ‘Nice to see you again.’
‘Evana, sweet child,’ Mikial Tora said, stepping away from his table filled with maps to kiss his daughter lightly on her forehead. ‘It has been long.’
‘Only a few weeks, though,’ she replied, stepping into the circle of Generals, greeting them as well, since she knew them well. They had been in her father’s service for a very long time, she knew their names, their deeds, and why her father liked them or not. A couple of his best Generals had joined Reemus after the army split, and they had all honored them when news reached that they were all killed in a confessor attack.
‘Very nice to have you back,’ one of them said. They were all old men though, not a spark of youth among them, unlike the new Generals Reemus appointed a day or so ago. She remembered when she was among them, together with Reemus, when the army had been one. But that was years ago, and Reemus had been young, but the Generals as well, now they were old.
‘I’m not back yet, General Liam, I’ve only come to speak to my father.’
‘She remains in the service of Marshall Colodar,’ spoke her father. He showed a small sign of annoyance, but no more than that. ‘Do you know what our young Marshall is planning?’
‘Something with Magic, father, but he did not tell me more.’
Mikial nodded, snorting. ‘I expect he could use our help, but Reemus tells me that he will not come to me and I have to go to him.’
‘You talked to Reemus?’ she asked surprised.
‘He’s in my care at the moment; you’ve stricken him badly, Evana,’ Mikial offered his daughter a chair, but she refused.
‘I did that because he attacked my Marshall.’
‘And I do not blame you for it,’ he replied, anger sounding in his voice, that she dare think he did not agree with her choices. ‘Out of all of us, Reemus has the most chance of getting Luchin to talk, they are friends nonetheless.’
‘You’re sending him to talk to Luchin, I hope that means you’re joining him. Because Reemus is right, Luchin won’t come to you.’

Joan stared at the wolf people as if he was set in stone, which wasn’t the idea. The gates opened and they all took their horses. He felt a bit left out, but maybe that was a good thing. His head was racing with that very familiar thought: Fear. For a moment he only stared, until Mistress Elize glared down at him.
‘I’m going to run for a bit,’ he announced.
That probably took the Mord Sith by surprise.
His feet came from the ground and he started to run, hearing shouts behind him. He was fast though, maybe not the fastest, but he knew how to sprint. He jumped over the bridge, feelings his feet burning beneath his heavy movements. He gave his all, ignoring the pain rising up from his lungs. He ran straight ahead, allowing the concentration of his body to let the fear fly away, making sure that his thoughts were emptied. And for a moment there, nothing was really wrong. It was just the sound of the wind in his ears, his heart pumping, and his blood flowing through his body. It seemed to last ages, while it only did for a minute or so. Before he felt another body hit his own, and he fell down to the ground, sliding forward a bit at the speed he was running.
It was Elize, who had jumped off his horse to stop him from what might have looked like an attempt to escape. Joan sighed, placing his head against the ground, turning on his back. He felt tired, and almost happy, though it was probably the happiest he was going to be for a couple of days, maybe weeks, maybe months, and worst even, maybe years.

[Cara]

(Just so you know, they're not riding horses. they're riding giant "wolves", but they're not wolves. They're like... a giant dog type thing. I was envisioning something like this. They're called warges. Sorry if there was a miscommunication! heh.)

Joan felt the painful jab into his lower back, as Elize twisted his hand around. He bit down instinctively and tasted blood from his bleeding lip. When he was flipped onto his bag, he looked up to see that it wasn't Elize, but Meg. The girl was a few inches shorter than him, and thin, but the determination in her eyes was frightening.
Elize road up on her warg mount and wheeled it about. The animal was a vicious thing, as it snarled and glared down at Joan.
Elize leaped nimbly off the saddle and walked over to Joan, pulling him violently to his feet.
"Try that again, and I'll personally cut off your feet," she said. You are you ride with Meg from now on. Misbehave, and well... I'm not sure what might happen," Elize said with a wicked grin. Joan looked at Meg, who was looking at Elize with...admiration. She turned to shoot Joan with a hot stare.
"Am I understood?" she asked both Joan and Meg.
"Yes, Mistress Elize."
"Good," she said, climbing back into her saddle. "Let's ride. We have a long way to go and not much time at all!"

Luchin walked amongst the ranks of men. They had exhausted their supply of bodies, and most were keeping up their mail, leathers, and weapons. He could hear the chatter of the soldiers, as they sat around cook fires. As he walked by, he heard the voices dim, and many of the soldiers became quiet. He heard someone one the "black reaper", but when he turned to look at who spoke, the men looked away, silent.
They don't like this... Luchin thought to himself. Well I do not like it anymore than they do, but it must be done.... He made his way to the practice yard where a number of soldiers were sparring. The clang of steel set Luchin back, and he smiled. This was something where he didn't have to think or plot, or worry. He could just be himself. He could let his fears melt away in the crash of battle; empty his mind. As he approached the group, the men parted for him.
As Luchin drew his sword, the two men in the ring finished, the other admitting defeat by dropping his sword. "Enough," Luchin said. "Can anyone face me?"

[Galadas]

Joan would’ve hated riding on the back of some not so hairy but scary creature, but with all his energy placed in the long run (it was short but he deemed it long) he had nothing left. No time to protest against riding with Meg, whom he did not know, but she seemed to be lost like Elize was. He didn’t think much of the warning, since he already understood that she wouldn’t back away when it really came to presenting the judgment.
He sat behind Meg, trying not to make things more awkward than they had always been in the company of Mord Sith. It only took him more than two days to figure that out.

When Evana entered, Reemus did not even have the strength to open his eyes. He was pale in the light of the candles, the healers had left him with a plate of food and a glas of wine, but he had touched neither. His shoulder was once again wrapped in cloth, his side as well, but both of them were bleeding. She could see the redness seeping through the cloth.
Her conclusion: the General was in no condition to talk to Luchin.
She pressed her hand against his head, feeling the heat he emitted. He had been stabbed many time, survived many attacks on his life, but no man was immortal. His generals had been killed, he had seen his camp being attacked, and with her final stab to his side, things were over for the old Marshall.
Without looking at him for a second time, she left the tent; shaking her head violently as she tried not to blame herself for what had happened. Would he die? She didn’t know yet, he was wounded badly, and while her father’s healers would watch out of him, one never could be really sure. She wiped a few tears away, before heading back to the other side of the camp, where Luchin was probably making further plans.
She feared for his plan, but feared for her father’s counter part in all of this even more. He was going to take it far until he knew exactly what Lord Rahl had told the new Marshall to do.

[Cara]

Elize rode swiftly, speaking little. She wished Lord Rahl would let her ride the wargs more often, but when they rode with horses, they were more like to eat the horses than to ride along side them. These animals were not just beasts of burden, but predators. Only a Mord Sith could handle one. She used her agile - pain - to guide the animals, and they obeyed.
It was getting dark when Elize called camp. The wargs could see perfectly in the dark, but she knew that Joan and Meg would be hungry, and she could feel her strength waning. Lord Rahl had impressed upon her the urgency at which she get Joan to Marshall Luchin Coladar, but go too hard and they would never make it.
Elize looked around, making sure that they were well off the road. "You, girl!" she snapped at Meg. "Collect firewood and make a fire. Bring Joan with you. I will set up the camp," she said, prodding Meg with her agile. The girl did not even flinch, although Elize knew it would have been extremely painful. She smiled to herself. Her trainee was coming along perfectly. She would win her agile and chain when she killed her parents.

Luchin watched his men. They all seemed hesitant to take up swords with him. In the old days no one ever hesitated. They all wanted a turn, testing their steel against his.
"What, have you all lost your fight?" he said. He could feel the air was tense. He shook his head, angry and partly dejected. He knew that his men disliked his methods, but today had put them over the edge. Slinging bodies, enemy and foe, over the walls of Aydindril was too traumatic.
"Marshall Coladar," a man said, stepping forward. Luchin looked up, thinking someone brave enough had stepped forward to fight, but he saw that the man was unarmed. A messenger.
"What is it?" Luchin asked, bringing the young man out of earshot.
"It is Marshall...uh, General Reemus. You should see to him at once. The High Healer has called for you."
Luchin sheathed his sword and nodded. "Let's go."

Meg pushed Joan in front of her, so that he would not be at her back. She didn't say anything as they walked, picking up dry branched and logs, but Joan could see her face was full of turmoil. He turned back and watched her for a moment. She had deep green eyes, that looked almost black in this lighting. Meg had dark brown hair, which seemed to have been brutally chopped off, so that it hung in uneven chunks about her ears. As she bent forward, Joan saw she wore a small wooden pendant about her neck, that was hid under her jerkin. When she saw him watching, she shot him a glare and pointed to the wood.

[Galadas]

Evana had seemed glad to tell her father about Reemus’ condition, as if it helped her goal that he was unable to neither stand nor speak. The Marshall had been displeased; angered even to hear his plans were failing. He had wanted the old Marshall to talk to the new one, to make certain of his answers. He hoped for one that Reemus would get better soon, but he knew miracles didn’t exist, and that he himself had to talk to Luchin.
His Generals weren’t too happy about it. They were all older than Reemus had been when he was named Marshall, and now they were even older.
The youngest was General Lin, 40 years old, in the army for over 25 years. He was known as being the one who was always negative about anything they did really. He hated the loudness of the other Generals, he always convinced his soldiers that all there plans would fail, only to see the looks on their faces when they would all return, more worried than they would have to be.
He was riding by the side of General Stevern, an old and wimpled old man, even older than Marshall Tora. It didn’t seem to matter that that guy always ate; he presented a lot of strategies that Marshall Tora wouldn’t else think of. Besides, he never gave his soldiers to the time laugh at him, before he would scold them even worse.
The hour was late, but their Marshall’s anger far to worse, which made him ignore the hour.
The newest Marshall, some boy called Luchin Coladar, had a plan, a plan given to him by Lord Rahl. They were to pretend they wanted to help, since Marshall Tora’s army was bigger, stronger, better rested because they had not had the same circumstances as the other part. Luchin could simply not refuse their help, it would be impolite and stupid.
Six horsemen, five Generals and one Marshall made their way to the camp, finding a nervous atmosphere. The soldiers didn’t even notice them.
Evana said Luchin would be training, it was his thing, according to her, but General Lin doubted that his soldiers would be happy to train with him.
They found some soldiers sparring in the field, a couple of them, most had sheathed their swords and seemed to dream with their eyes open.
‘Where is Marshall Colodar?’ one of the horsemen asked.
Out of all the soldiers, only one dared to tell them that he had left, called back for something. Instead of looking angry, which is how Marshall Tora probably felt, given his white knuckles, he smiled, thanked the man and told his company that they would head for Luchin’s tent. They would come for him when he came back.

Joan picked up the firewood, he was too afraid to ask her anything. She would probably kick him or worse hit him across the head. He didn’t know what it was like to be afraid of a woman, since back home women were boss of the household, not mean and terrifying warriors with sticks that hurt people at the touch.
He clenched his teeth, trying to remember that moment when he ran that fast, when he was free of worrying, but he couldn’t get it back. As he collected whatever she pointed out to him, he managed to look at her from time to time. She wasn’t pretty, rather normal really. She was young, maybe even younger than him, though he couldn’t point out her age from what he saw. She looked older because her face was hard and stern. He wondered whether she could still smile or if that emotion had been taken away from her. Whatever was next for her on her road to become a Mord Sith, it wouldn’t be anything hopeful. He just wished he could change something for her, make sure she didn’t end up like Elize. His life didn’t seem all that bad when he thought about it, he wasn’t asked to change himself, just to go along, and do things when he was told to. He stared at her a bit longer than he should and she yanked him to the side, dropping almost all his wood. His farther would tell him to man up, to hit back, but his father wouldn’t understand what he was facing, understand the pain an agile inflicted on a person. He rubbed his chest just thinking about it, standing up and picking up what had fallen.
He made sure not to look at her again.

[Cara]

Luchin clenched his teeth as he saw Reemus lying on the cot. The healer looked at Luchin, replacing the soaked bandages on Reemus’s chest. It smelled of rot. Reemus grimaced in his sleep, but never opened his eyes.
Damn! Luchin thought. You stupid fool. I told you had I everything under control. But you could not listen… No of course not. You are not one to listen. Luchin wanted to hit something, strike something, scream, but he did nothing. He just stared at Reemus, his friend.
“You idiot,” he whispered, angrily. Despite all the things that had gone wrong between them, underneath it all, Reemus was still his friend. He did not trust Evana, and her father even less, but he would need their help… Their sacrifice, to bring out Lord Rahl’s plan. For not it would be a waiting game.

Elize was waiting for them when Meg and Joan walked back to camp. There was a rabbit hanging from a tree, and Elize was busy skinning the other. Without looking up, she said, “get a fire ready now. The light is getting low, and I’m hungry.”
Meg piled the wood together and looked down at it, her face confused.
Elize looked up from her work. She flicked the knife out and the animal’s organs came out in a clump on the ground. “What is the problem?” she said, her voice quiet.
Meg averted her eyes, silent.
Elize reached into her bag besides her and threw a flint and steel piece at Meg. The girl didn’t flinch away as the heavy items hit her and fell. “There you go. Now, make the fire.”
Joan, who was organizing the wood, looked at Meg standing with the flint and stone in her hand.
“Mistress…” she said, speaking for the first time. Her voice was soft and young. She was younger than she looked, Joan noted, by the sound of her voice. “I… I’ve never made a fire.”
Elize was standing before the girl in a second, knife in hand.
Joan gave a shout of warning, as Elize raised her hand to strike the girl, as if to stab her, but the knife came down, handle first, smashing into the girl’s head. She made no attempt to get away or block the blow. Meg stumbled back, a small whimper escaping her lips, as Elize’s hand flew in a swift upper cut to the girl’s stomach.
Joan was in shock, as Elize continued to beat the girl. It was in silent horror that he watched Meg lie there, bleeding from a cut on her forehead and a broken lip. “You are nothing,” Elize hissed, gripping Meg’s shirt. “Who are you?”
“Nothing…” the girl wheezed.
“Remember that.” Elize stopped and turned away. Joan looked from Meg to Elize. The girl’s face was in the dirt, her hair a mess around her head. Elize began to skin the other rabbit, as if nothing had happened.
Joan looked carefully at Elize, as he bent to help Meg get to her feet. She didn’t resist his help, and as he looked in her face, he could see tears falling from her face, but she said not a word.
Elize didn’t look up. “Joan, leave her. Get the fire started.

[Galadas]

Ademai had been punching her hands against the table ever since Evana came by to bring her the good news. Reemus Shorshall, lying with the healers waiting for his dead. The stupid idiot, away for only a day and managed to get himself almost killed, or on the brink of it. She didn’t know love, or well, pretended not to know it. She knew rage though, and rage was all she felt when she thought about her former Marshall. She tried to convince herself that he had meant nothing to her, that Luchin was now her Marshall and that any bond she had previously shared with Reemus didn’t exist any longer. That wasn’t how she felt though.
She stopped punching the table, looked up when she heard voices outside. Without thinking a second on it, she left her tent and stepped into the darkness.
Torches shone by the entrance of Luchin’s empty tent. She recognized Marshall Tora though she had never met him before. Reemus had talked about him a lot; he was his teacher after all. The man was old, grey and angry. Angry was also the only word to describe him furthermore, while he was pacing around in and out of Luchin’s tent, waiting for the Marshall to return. He probably wanted to talk, and from what she knew about him, talking wouldn’t do them all much good.
‘Marshall Tora,’ she said, when she met him at the opening.

Joan did as he was told, averting his eyes. He wanted to help her, the feeling within his chest was strong, but his fear for Elize’s agile was far greater. He wanted to reach wherever they were going in one piece, one very healthy piece without any scratches. It didn’t feel right though, he wanted to slap himself just for being such a pussy. At home he would never do such a thing.
He found himself wanting to ask how long it would last before they would arrive where they were supposed to arrive. Already the idea of this Luchin person scared him more than Elize did.

[Cara]

Everyone ate in silence. Elize seemed almost content as she stretched out by the fire. "You will take first shift," she said to Meg. "I need a good long rest..." Elize stretched again, like a cat. "Wake me when the moon is above that tree," she said pointing, "or if anything alarming should happen."
Elize laid down, feeling the stiffness from the ride wear on her.
Meg looked at Elize, who's breathing was soon soft ans even. She gave an inward sigh, poking the fire with a stick. She added another log to its flames, taking pleasure in the sound of the wood burning.
Joan looked furtively at her out of the corner of his eye. In the firelight, she could almost look pretty, despite her swollen lip. Her face had softened, and she had relaxed. The indifferent glare or ugly sneer on her mouth made that much difference. She looked young and afraid, Joan imagined. Unlike Elize, who wore her violence and hatred on her sleeve, Meg was still hiding under that.
Joan watched with peaked interest, as the girl grabbed a thicker piece of wood from the pile, and took out a tiny three inch blade from her pocket. With quick nimble fingers she began to shave off layers of wood. They flaked to the ground. She worked her knife around the edges, staring intently at her work. She was so focused, she hardly noticed Joan watching her. In that moment, Joan could imagine her not as a Mord Sith in training, but a young girl whittling wood.
She looked up, and her eyes went straight to Joan. Joan's heart skipped a beat in fear, but the girl only sat up and looked at him. Her eyes flicked to Elize, who slept quietly across from them. She looked at Joan a moment longer before reaching over and handing him what she had been carving.
Joan cautiously took it from her. When he opened his palm, he was amazed to see a small owl, beautifully carved into the wood.
When he looked at Meg she had a sad smile on her face.

Luchin made his way back to his tent. What could he do to save Reemus? How would he deal with....
"Marshall Tora," Luchin said, surprised. He quickly recovered, as he closed his tent flap. "I did not expect to see you at this hour," he said, his face blank. He shot a glance at Ademai who was standing besides him.
"Marshall Coladar," Tora said in greeting, stiffly.
"Have a seat," Luchin said, with venomous sweetness, gesturing to the table where maps and other papers were spread across. "Ademai will pour us some wine. The harbour gold will do just fine," he said, looking at her. Ademai glared back, but Luchin shrugged it off. She hated being told what to do, especially in public, but she did it anyway without verbal or physical complaint. Luchin knew he would hear of it later.
Once settled, Luchin leaned back, fixing Tora with a hard stare. "What brings you to me?"

[Galadas]

Joan had wanted to thank her for it, the woodcarving was beautiful, but he felt more saddened by the gift than thankful. He couldn’t put it anywhere, his pants were ripped and he had no pockets in his ravaged shirt. But he wanted to keep it, as if that simple carving reminded him that all the evil he had seen in the past few days wasn’t that bad at all. That Meg just like him wanted to escape all of this, if she could. He nodded and graced her with a small smile from his side, but it wasn’t anything strong.
He wanted to ask her also if she still had family, but he had been explained about what a Mord Sith had to go through to become one of them, and it scare dhim. The thought reached him that she probably would have to kill her family some day soon, if she hadn’t already. He felt sad for her, maybe even sadder than he felt for himself. But it was all useless, completely useless. So he took his eyes from the fire, and lay down on the floor, trying to close his eyes as he hoped for good dreams, for a couple of hours of freedom from real life.

Reemus couldn’t remember if he had opened his eyes before, or how long it had been since he last opened them. Each time he did he only saw the ceiling hanging over him, for a moment he saw clear, before the pain in his shoulder and his side raced back, making him dizzy and sick. He would scream even if he didn’t hear himself, and someone would stand over him, brushing his hair back and making it that he fell asleep almost instantly.
He had horrible dreams, he knew he was sick, he had a fever, his whole body smelled like it. In his mind it was all over, they had lost the war, everyone was dead, but he was still alive, because he had been like this for a long time, too long. And once he would return to Dahara, followed by his failures, Lord Rahl would kill him to set an example. His body seemed to create the pain following all the possible torture methods by itself.
If there was one thing he hated more than losing his job as a Marshall, it was standing idly by as Luchin got them all killed, as he was unable to stand by his friend’s side to face the enemy, how small the chance they would ever get inside the city.

The five Generals present in the company of Marshall Tora had spread themselves around the tent. Marshall Stevern had been the only who had seated himself before Marshall Colodar said so to sit to Mikail.
The other four Generals either stood by the entrance or close to the seat where Tora took place. They didn’t seem happy to be there, Ademai shot them feisty glances, noting that they were all old, and she didn’t like the gentlemen’s club too much, having traveled with them for a year, before joining Reemus. She only got wine for her Marshall and Mikail, grinning at him in acknowledgement, they recognized each other. The other Generals took the bottle where she had gotten it from and got wine themselves, except for the fat guy on the sofa, he didn’t seem to get any, unless he was going to move himself. She made eye contact with one of the Generals at the table at the back of the tent, and knew they were all gathered there to witness it. They stood for the power Tora had, a sort of power that Marshall Shorshall had once hoped to build on his side, but never got the same strong energy the Generals serving Tora emitted. Still, Ademai only saw old men.
‘First of all Lord Rahl’s orders to help you take the city,’ Marshall Tora spoke. He was grey, strong build and above all, he had a hard stare she couldn’t even compare to that of Luchin.
After Ademai had filled the glasses, she joined Luchin, standing behind him. She had expected Evana at the table as well, since it was after all her father they were talking to.
‘Which means, Marshall Colodar – he would never use Reemus’ title when talking to his old apprentice – you owe it to me to tell me what you’re planning,’ Mikail continued, ‘and of course, tell us what it is you need us to do? I have 1200 men at my command, 400 cavalry, the rest infantry and bowmen. You have, according to Reemus, far less men than myself. I want to help you, but I need to know your plans.’
Ademai listened to what Mikail said, resisting the urge to shake his head. This wasn’t the beginning, this was just the Marshall trying to smooth things over. If he knew the plans, he would want to take over the whole organization. That was how it worked when it came to politics in Marshall Tora’s own part of the army, and that was the same reason why Reemus had been used to not saying too much about his plans to his Generals.

[Cara]

Luchin gave the gathered Generals and Marshall Tora a ferral smile. "All in good time, gentlemen, he said,"sipping his wine instead. "We have a lot of work ahead of us, and I appreciate your patience, but I ask that you not question me for further information at the present time."
This got a number of irritated and annoyed sounds from the generals. "What?" Tora demanded.
Luchin shot him a look, smiling. "Yes, for the time being, standby." He flicked up his eyes at Tora, as he set his wine down. "Is there anything more, Generals?" he asked, as ge pulled out his sword and began to sharpen its already lethal blade.

[Galadas]

Marshall Tora considered whether to answer the question or not. He felt like bursting out of his skin, the whole situation angering him more than he could’ve imagined. He was an older man, not used to younger people talking him down. Surely he had always been the one who threatened others, while not impressed by Luchin sharpening his blade, he remembered Reemus’ warning.
‘We will stand by, very well, but when you need us, Marshall Colodar, - Tora came to his feet, pushing away the chair – and trust me, you will need us some day soon,’ he said, ‘We will come the very last second, and let you sort out matters on your own for a while. And that is not a treat, boy, that’s a promise.’
Adamai watched the Marshall and his Generals leave the tent, shaking her head when they were gone. ‘I would want to tell you not to mess with Marshall Tora, but I hate that man’s guts, so thank you for making my day,’ she said with a grin.

Evana had been sitting at Reemus’ bed since the doctor came to warn her that he had awoken. He had slipped back into a feverish sleep by the time she reached the tent, and was left with looking at his pale face, for all that got her. He might have changed horribly over the years, he still reminded her of the boy she once knew and loved, and loved to tease. She only recognized the young man in his face, asleep by her side after a night of fishing. Their lives had been really easy back then, but they had both known what was awaiting for them.
Reemus was only thirty-two, though, and Evana, who had lost many of those dear to her – not to mention Lyra, one of her best friends – at a young age and also recently, she could not help think about how young the boys were that went into battle.
Joan!
She had not thought about the boy who she had given to the Mord Sith for a while, but she feared he may be dead now as well, gutted down for some war reason.
The doctor came by once every ten minutes, her father was probably still in Luchin’s camp, but she couldn’t care of all of that right now. She feared what most feared, that Reemus would die right here, in a way he would hate the most, unable to do anything, unable to fight back.

[Cara]

Luchin smiled at Ademai. "I am glad I could oblige," he said, but underneath he was worried. If he failed not only would he probably die, but his whole family would die too... Lord Rahl did not like failure, and he would see that his parents burn along with his little sister, Meg.
He did not need any more enemies. He had hurt his friend, Reemus, and now he was close to death! Luchin looked at Ademai. "You are dismissed," he said, tiredly. He wanted to stop pretending that he needed to lead an army. For now it was a waiting game until this Joan boy arrived.

Elize smiled. She had slept very well, but Meg and Joan were tired still. Her apprentice was silent, but her gaze was stiff and cool. She smiled at this. The girl's heart was hardening. Good.
"Do you see that?" she said, pulling their Wargs to a halt. The animals growled, but stayed still. Elize nodded to the thin streams of smoke way off in the distance. "We have traveled long and hard, but we will be at the Aydindril by sundown," she said.
"Sundown?" Meg said, staring at the tiny smoke columns. "That's still hours away," she said, sighing.
Elize shot her a glance, but said nothing in response. "We will be meeting General Reemus. I do not know who the other generals are, because last I heard from Lord Rahl, many of the top generals were killed by the Confessors in the previous battle."
"Confessors," Joan whispered. He remembered Lord Rahl's words. Confessors were the demon women of Aydindril. He made it sound as of the Confessors were worse than the Mord-Sith, but he couldn't imagine anymore more fierce or frightening as a Mord-Sith in her leather. The two he had met briefly did not seem terrible, but he was not about to voice that to Elize.
"Yes, Confessors, Elize said, her voice dripping with hate. They were the the only thing Mord-Sith had to fear. Even death had little fear to a Mord-Sith.
"There was a battle?" Meg said, seeming to wake up a bit at the prospect of the journey being almost over. They had been traveling for two days, almost nonstop. The wargs, unlike horses could travel at night and had incredible endurance. They only needed to hunt every couple of days, sleep a few hours after they ate, but otherwise they could travel swiftly and were fierce animals to behold. Only a fully-trained Mord-Sith could control such wild and blood-thirsty animals. They were almost as terrifying as a Mord-Sith!
"Yes, the last battle, Lord Rahl told me, went horribly. The Confessors had Confessed a number of the Generals in secret, as well as other soldiers, so no one knew who was an enemy and who was a friend. It was a bloodbath. I heard only Marshall Reemus made it alive as well as his top General, Luchin Coladar."
Meg almost fell off her warg at this. "Mistress Elize! Did you say Luchin Coladar?" she gasped, almost in tears.
Elize stopped her warg, confused and irritated. She hated repeating herself. "Yes, what of it?"
Meg shook her head, shutting her mouth.
Elize reigned up close to Meg, face flat. "Tell me how do you know Luchin Coladar?"
Meg closed her eyes, taking a calming breath. She looked back at Elize with the cool face of a Mord-Sith. "Luchin Coladar is my brother."

[Galadas]

You horrible fuck, was the first thought Ademai had when she entered the room they had locked Reemus up in for all that time. All that time being only a couple of hours. She had been dismissed, giving her enough time to visit him and be of any use to his condition.
She came down into the tent, seeing the Marshall that once was hers, laying still on a matress, his body hidden below a lot of blankets. She noticed how pale his face was, how a small tube was placed into his mouth to ensure his breathing. One of the doctors checking on his shoulder wound was just about to leave. She gave him a look of question, and he noticed that perfectly.
‘He probably won’t wake up,’ the man said, pointing out how they had used a tube to keep him breathing because that’s what Marshall Tora told them to do.
‘Very well,’ she replied. She showed no emotion. Of course she had never loved Reemus, she only used him for her sexual desires, but she still felt responsible for him, and thought he was a good leader in comparison to many others. Besides, she couldn’t just let him die, that would be horrible.
She sat down on the edge of the bed, taking his cold hand in hers. Without giving her plan any moment to sink in, or pausing to rethink her options she shoved the pillow out form below his head and took the tube from his throat. He coughed, but went silent the moment after. Then she pushed the pillow against his head, making no effort to feel sorry as she suffocated him. It didn’t take long before she knew he was gone. She removed the pillow and gave him the kiss to give life. Hoping that through the adrenaline he would be able to breath on his own again.
Reemus started coughing; he opened his eyes and moved violently, as if in a shock. He sat up straight, falling directly into Ademai’s arms, who pushed him back into the matrass.

Joan didn’t know who Luchin was, but he probably was someone important, seeing the reaction Elize had after Meg admitted to it. She seemed shocked, but he knew she was hopeful. This was her family, Mord Sith didn’t have any family, or they seemed like they didn’t. However her brother was alive, so was some connection she had to her past. He kept his mouth shut, afraid that if he asked questions Elize would punish him for it.

Night was carefully passing by, and by the time morning arrived, Reemus could stand on both feet, without having to be helped by Ademai. She placed her hands against his bared chest, refreshed the bandage around his shoulder. I looked horrible, she would have to bound his arm against his chest if he didn’t want to worse the cut. It smelled horrible and the skin around it was white. She was worried about it, but there was no chance in hell she was giving him any rest.
‘I have to go to Luchin,’ the old-Marshall said. He sounded like an old man. ‘I need to know what he’s planning.’
‘Yeah, don’t do that,’ Ademai said. As she had finished his bandages, she got back into her clothes and handed Reemus his. ‘Play your part in Tora’s army, Luchin will come to you when he wants to talk, trust me.’
Reemus nodded. It probably wouldn’t take long for him to get over exhausted. He sat back down after putting on his pants and waited in silence for her to finish dressing. ‘Ready?’

(He's back in the GAME! For a little while. As we call it in dutch delay of execution)