Strength of Fate - 2. Chapter Two

That evening, both men tried their best to keep busy and dodge Laird’s ability to corner them with questions. Nathan used his newfound interest from the guards to act as a shield, and Brohm kept company with Randy the cook, offering to help.

Their camp sat on an embankment twenty metres from the road. Surrounded by sparse deciduous forest with some undergrowth, it gave them a tactical advantage against attacks during the night.

As soon as Nathan was done eating, he stood up and checked his dagger in its sheath.

“I’ll take first watch,” he announced before dashing off into the shadow of the trees.

He found a boulder and clambered atop it, keeping an eye on Laird as much as the surrounding darkness. Brohm helped Randy clean up, and then he settled down with his bedroll far away from Laird. It was obvious the stout man wanted to talk to Brohm, but for whatever reason, he let him be.

The camp was soon fast asleep, and all was still. The chirp of insects and forlorn calls of nightbirds kept Nathan company while he stared into the dark, looking and listening for trouble. Hours passed, and the light of the campfire lazily dwindled to a dull glow.

A snapping branch caught his attention, followed by soft footsteps coming from the camp’s direction. He crouched low, trying to determine the source, but the light was too dim to catch any detail. He silently slid down the far side of the boulder, freed his dagger, and crept to flank the stalker.

“Don’t move,” he said.

The shadowy figure jumped. “Gods, Whitter. Where did you come from?” It was Laird, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Nathan jammed his dagger back into its sheath. “If you need to take a piss, there’s no need to go so deep into the bush. We’re all men here.”

“No, I was looking for you.”

“Right now’s not a good time,” he said, heading back to the boulder.

Laird followed in his wake. “Listen, you understand that I need to know the truth about you two.”

“We told you the truth.”

“It’s obvious you were never traders.”

Nathan turned to confront him. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because traders have a way about them, and neither of you show that behaviour.”

“That’s because traders around here have it easy.”

“Aye. You keep saying that, but I still don’t buy it.”

“I don’t care what you think. It’s the truth.”

Laird didn’t back down, instead grabbing Nathan’s collar. “You better care. Shaw might be in charge of the guild, but I’m the one who says who’s in, and who’s not.”

“You better get your hand off my friend, or you’ll lose it.” It was Brohm.

“I’m the one who gives orders around here,” Laird said, letting go of Nathan’s collar in spite of himself.

“You can order us all you like, and we’ll follow them,” Brohm said. “But the second you lay a hand on us—”

“Whoa, okay.” Nathan moved between them. “Let’s just slow down here.”

“You see? This is what I’m talking about,” Laird said. “Even if being a trader in the western lands was tough, you’d never see one trying to start a fight.”

“Why don’t we just tell him the truth?” Brohm said.

Nathan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Sid!”

“Oh-ho! I knew it,” Laird said. “Spill it, then.”

Before Nathan could consider an alternate story, Brohm launched his own. “Okay, we’re from the western steppes, but we’re not traders. Fine. You saw through the lie, and I actually respect that. The reason we lied is because we deserted our post.”

“Your post?” Laird asked. “You’re soldiers?”

“Well, reckon not anymore. If we went back, we’d be strung up.”

Nathan stood still as stone, blank-faced, waiting for Brohm to continue weaving his story.

“Once the king died, the queen took control. Everyone knew she was crazy, paranoid, but they never had any kids so the throne was hers. Soon, things changed. We were getting orders to kill innocent people—civilians. Whitter and me? We didn’t want no part of that, so we left. We took our chances and got hired as mercs to protect a caravan across the Great Divide.”

Laird silently considered his story, eyeing them suspiciously. “But why lie to the guild?”

“We left our post. Lots of folk would look down on us for doing that.”

Laird nodded. “Aye. Cowards desert their post.”

Brohm took a step closer. “We’re no cowards.”

“I suppose after seeing you two in action today, I’d have to agree with that.”

“Yuh. We left not ’cause we were scared, but ’cause we didn’t want to kill those people.”

Laird nodded reluctantly.

“This needs to be kept secret, sir,” Nathan said.

“Aye? You’re asking a lot from me.”

“Please. We don’t want any trouble. We just want to be part of the guild.”

“Why join us? Why not the army?”

Brohm cringed.

“Let’s just say army life left a bad taste in our mouth,” Nathan said.

Laird grunted his understanding. “I’ll need time to think about this. The guild looks down on this sort of behaviour, regardless of intention. If you lie to us once, what’s to stop you from doing it again?”

Neither Nathan nor Brohm could provide an answer.

After a moment, Laird sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

A wave of relief swept across Nathan. “I appreciate you considering it, sir.”

“Alright. Wake me up when it’s my shift for watch.”

The stout man left Brohm and Nathan behind, heading back to camp. Nathan waited, peeking around to make sure Laird wasn’t eavesdropping, then slapped Brohm’s belly.

“How’d you come up with that?” he whispered, grinning ear to ear. “It was genius.”

Brohm shrugged. “Dunno. It just sorta came out. He wanted another story, so I gave him one.”

“You scared me something awful at first. I thought you were going to tell him the real truth.”

“I’m not that dumb.” Brohm chuckled and knocked his shoulder. “Alright, I’ll take watch. You get some sleep.”

“You sure? It’s not time yet.”

“Yuh, but I’m up now.”

Nathan gave Brohm’s arm a squeeze. “Okay. Thanks, big guy.”

“Hold up.”

Nathan turned just as Brohm pulled him up into his arms and kissed him. The surprise of it stunned Nathan for a moment before he managed to return it.

“Sorry,” Brohm said as he pulled away. “I just miss you, y’know? Can’t really cuddle in camp.”

Nathan’s face felt flushed. “Never apologize for kisses.”

Brohm wore a lewd grin, then turned him toward the camp and swatted his behind.

“Get to bed.”

Nathan stumbled away, light-headed, wearing a drunken smile. Brohm often had that effect on him, and he loved it.

 

 

◆ ◆ ◆

 

 

The sun was still below the horizon when Nathan found himself shaken awake by Laird.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, yawning.

“Nothing. I just want to get an early start.”

“What about Corbett? Is he going to like getting up this early?”

Laird grunted. “I’ll leave that up to his men.”

After much cursing from the senator, the crew were on their way. Within hours, they hit a road junction, and turned right to take the northeastern route. Dense forest flanked the western side, its leaves bearing a hint of autumnal colour. Nathan and Brohm kept to scouting ahead, peering into the shade of the thick woods for anyone who might decide to waylay them. By midafternoon, ominous clouds roiled in from beyond the treeline, bringing with it the threat of heavy rainfall.

“Laird mentioned there’s an inn on this road, near where we’d turn west toward Aylesbury,” Brohm said.

“Yeah? That’d be nice.” Nathan craned his neck, looking for a gap in the canopy. “I can’t tell if those clouds are gonna blow through, but I’d be willing to get wet now for a warm room later.”

“Reckon a bed would do good for my back, too.”

“It’s getting on in the day, though. I wonder if we’ll continue on or stop early for the night.”

In answer to Nathan’s question, a single horn blast told them to fall back. They arrived to find the men raising the tent for the senator.

“We’re still two or three hours away from the inn,” Laird said. “I don’t like the look of that weather, so we’re hunkering down here for the night.”

Brohm muttered his disappointment under his breath. Laird had made the right call, though. The wind whipped up, thrashing tree limbs and causing leaves to fly in all directions. They rapidly secured their horses to a tree trunk and searched for shelter, but could find none other than the thinning canopy above.

After a violent yet short-lived downfall, steady showers continued into the evening hours. Despite multiple attempts, none could get a fire lit, and the gloomy skies brought a dark night.

Laird announced he would take first watch, leaving Nathan and Brohm to huddle together for warmth. Brohm always radiated an intense heat—much to his dismay during the summer months—but at times like this, Nathan appreciated it. And any excuse he could get to snuggle up to Brohm was always welcome.

Three of the senator’s men and the carriage rider sat nearby, wet and miserable, huddled under a thick blanket. The fourth man arrived an hour later to switch shifts with another.

“No sleep for us tonight, eh?” the new arrival said.

“Reckon not,” Brohm mumbled.

Later into the night, Laird emerged from the gloom, finding Nathan and Brohm in a hazy state between consciousness and uneasy rest.

“Who’s next?”

Brohm unwrapped himself from Nathan and rose to his feet. “I’ll take next watch, sir.”

“Just patrol the tent with the guard.”

Laird sat beside Nathan, and waited until Brohm was gone before speaking. “You two seem close.”

“Yeah, we’ve been through a lot together.”

“Aye? How long have you known each other?”

Without thinking, Nathan almost told him the truth. He’d only met Brohm a couple of months ago, yet it felt like an age had passed.

“It feels like I’ve known him forever.”

The answer must’ve been satisfactory because the stout man fell silent. The rain finally subsided some time later, and gradually, the sky cleared. It was a moonless night, yet the stars provided a hint of light.

Nathan was exhausted. Sitting hunched over cramped his muscles, and wet clothes made it impossible to sleep soundly. None of this bothered Laird, who had managed to nod off with his beard resting against his chest. Nathan decided to stretch his legs, and approached the senator’s tent to find Brohm. The big man’s silhouette tensed up, and cautiously reached for his sword as he neared.

“It’s me,” Nathan whispered.

Brohm relaxed and drew near. “Can’t sleep?” he asked in a hushed tone.

“No. Legs are killing me.”

“At least the rain stopped, yuh?”

“Where’s the other guard?” Nathan asked.

Brohm thumbed to the opposite side of the tent. Wanting to escape the dripping foliage overhead, Nathan stepped away from the tent onto the road to gaze at the night sky. Brohm joined him, wrapping an arm over his shoulders. Nathan leaned into his warmth.

“When you mentioned that inn earlier,” Nathan said, “the first thing I thought was us between the sheets.”

Brohm chuckled under his breath. “The first thing I thought of was a nice, cold, tasty ale. And then ruining your backside.”

Nathan was about to laugh, only to be interrupted by the sound of something heavy smacking the wet ground. Nathan had enough experience to know the sound of a body slumping into mud.

“That came from the tent,” Brohm said, pulling his blade free. “You check inside.”

Nathan burst through the tent flap. A dim candle lit the space, revealing the senator lying in his bed. He rushed to his side to shake him awake.

“W-wha—what’s the meaning of this?” the old man bellowed.

“You’re okay?”

“What do you mean? Of course I’m—”

“Over here!” Brohm called out.

Nathan left the senator to his babbling and bolted outside, finding Brohm kneeling over a body.

“It’s the guard. He’s dead.”

Yells erupted from the trees, punctuated by the ring of steel on steel. Laird and the other men were under attack.

“You go,” Nathan said. “I’ll stay with the senator.”

Brohm nodded and ran headlong into the trees, wet branches smacking his face. Nathan rushed back to the tent and pulled back the flap to reveal a brigand using the senator as a shield, holding a blade to his throat. The old man croaked and swallowed hard, fear staining his features.

“Here’s the deal,” the brigand said. “My boys’re busy finishing off the others. You run now, and we won’t come after ya.”

Nathan turned sideways to peer outside, surreptitiously freeing his dagger out of sight, then took a cautious step into the tent.

The brigand tensed. “Stay back, or he dies.”

“I doubt you’ll do that. You want him alive, otherwise, you would’ve killed him already.”

“I’ll do it! I will,” he said, but Nathan was wise to the thinly veiled bluff.

He took another step forward, holding his dagger by the blade close to his side. The brigand grunted nervously and brandished his weapon at Nathan.

“Get back!” His voice cracked.

In one motion, Nathan lunged and flung the dagger at the man. It happened so quickly, the senator couldn’t understand why the brigand had suddenly dropped his blade, but he didn’t waste the moment and ran to Nathan’s side. The brigand—with the dagger lodged deep into his eye socket—fell to his knees and collapsed, twitching sporadically.

“Thank you,” the senator sputtered, holding a hand to his throat where the blade had been held.

Nathan nudged the body over with a foot and pulled his dagger free. The scuffle in the forest ended abruptly, but he wasn’t sure which side had won.

“Stay here. Stay hidden,” he whispered to the senator, then rushed outside.

Rounding the corner of the tent, he nearly impaled himself on a sword. Laird thrust at him, but Nathan managed to backpedal out of harm’s way.

“It’s me, sir!” Nathan yelled.

“Gods, sorry. Is the senator safe?”

“Yes. Are you guys okay? Is Sid okay?”

“Three ambushed us, but they’re dead now. Aye, everyone’s fine.”

“Actually, not everyone, sir,” Nathan said with a grimace, pointing to the guard’s body sprawled in the mud.

Laird cursed under his breath. The other men and Brohm arrived moments later.

“Brody’s dead?” one of them asked, and then angrily turned to Brohm. “How’d you let this happen?”

“Is it safe to come out now?” the senator asked meekly from within the tent.

Laird pulled back the flap. “Yes, senator. The threat’s been taken care of.”

The old man gawked at each of them until he found Nathan. “This man will be commended for his actions. I’ve never seen such skill and precision with a dagger before.”

Nathan held up his hands. “Uhm, no. That won’t be necessary. Everyone here did their part to protect you. I was just doing my job.”

“Of course, but your direct actions saved my life—”

“Let’s just take it easy,” Laird said, motioning for the old man to enter the tent again.

Nathan could feel the eyes of the guards—the senator’s own men—bore into him.

“Trying to steal all the glory, eh?” one of them said.

Brohm stepped forward. “Hey! You know it’s not like that—”

“Shut up! He’s dead, no thanks to you.”

Nathan opened his mouth to speak, but not wanting to cause any more strife, decided to remain silent. Trying to reason with them—to explain the details right now—was pointless. He was proud to witness Brohm holding his anger in check. The last thing they needed was another fight.

He and Brohm discreetly retreated to the forest camp, allowing the guards to mourn the loss of their comrade. The area was a mess, the scuffle having turned everything to mud. Three bodies lay where they fell, and Nathan kicked the closest one. Brohm pulled him close and held his head against his wide chest.

“Those guys are gonna be pissed at me the rest of the way,” Nathan said, “and I can’t blame them for it.”

“I know. But we’re almost there, and then we’ll be done with this.”

Nathan let out a heavy sigh. “Help me with the bodies.”

They carried them farther into the forest, dumping them into a heap. After returning to camp, they came upon the three guards and the carriage rider. In the centre lay the dead man, wrapped tightly in a blanket.

“Laird wants to talk to you guys,” one of them said.

Nathan and Brohm silently walked past the solemn group, and found Laird standing on the road, away from the tent.

“We have a new job,” he said. “The remaining guards will see that the senator reaches Aylesbury safely. We’re going to take Brody’s body to his family so he can have a proper burial.”

“Where’s that, sir?” Brohm asked.

“Farther north. Larester. We’re leaving now.”

Nathan glanced up at the sky again, surprised to find a deep azure hue overtaking the inky night. By the time they’d packed their belongings and secured the body on a horse, there was enough light to travel the road safely. None of the men spoke or waved farewell as they left. Instead, they presented glowers of contempt. Nathan was glad to be rid of them, even if it meant travelling with a slowly decomposing corpse.

 

 

◆ ◆ ◆

 

 

Not having to contend with a sluggish carriage made for swift and smooth travel. Not an hour had passed before they arrived at a split in the road. Aylesbury, their original destination, lay to the west. They continued north along the wooded road, seeing the inn Brohm had mentioned the day before. Nathan glanced at it longingly as they rushed past, wishing he could rest his weary head until the next morning.

The autumn air remained crisp over the course of the day, cooling considerably as nightfall came. The three men set up camp in a small clearing, and taciturnly ate a meal of hardtack and jerky. After enjoying Randy’s talented campfire cooking, the field rations brought them no satisfaction. Given the previous long night they’d endured, none could muster the energy to even consider standing watch. They risked sleeping with weapons in hand. Luck held them in its hand, however, and the night passed without interruption.

By midafternoon the next day, they reached the road west to Larester. Wanting to rid themselves of their cargo as quickly as possible, they decided to ride through the night. The prospect of a hot meal and a long sleep was the only thing that kept Nathan going. By sunup, the three men were relieved to see the port town on the horizon.

“You know where we’re going, sir?” Nathan asked.

“Aye. One of the men gave me details.”

They dodged their way through the bustling streets, their noses assailed by the stink of fish the deeper they went. Laird led them down a narrow alleyway, halting at a small, simple home.

“You two untie the body. I’ll see to the wife.”

He knocked on the door. It opened, revealing a young boy. Mouth agape, the child stared up at the imposing, stout man. Laird dropped to a knee and offered the friendliest smile he could muster through his thick beard.

“Hello, little master. Is your mommy home?”

The boy blinked and swallowed before finally nodding.

“Can you fetch her, please?”

Footsteps approached. “Hello? Who is it?”

A woman opened the door wider to greet Laird. Another child followed behind her, tugging on her apron. Laird suddenly lost his voice. He glanced back to Nathan and Brohm momentarily, glassy-eyed, before looking to the ground.

“Ma’am. My name is Laird. I’m with the Adventurer’s Guild—”

“What’s this about?” she asked, trying to identify what they were untying from the horse.

“We were travelling with a contingent of guardsmen. One of them was your husband, Brody.”

“Oh gods, Brody. Is he okay? Is he . . .”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. He—”

She pushed him aside and ran to Brohm as he lifted the blanket-wrapped body from the horse.

“No. Please, no.”

Standing awkwardly with the body in his arms, Brohm was unsure what to do. Tears streamed down the woman’s cheek as she drew near. After a long moment of hesitation, she pulled at the blanket to unveil Brody’s grey face. The woman collapsed to a heap in the dirt, uttering a heart-wrenching wail of despair. The two children tried to run to her, but Laird held them back and brought them inside. Nathan knelt by the woman’s side, offering a hand to help her up. With unsteady feet, they stepped into the house. Brohm entered last and laid the body on the floor. Nathan could hear Laird speaking with the children in the other room, trying his best to keep them occupied.

After managing to stifle her sobs, the woman asked, “how did this happen?”

“Brigands, ma’am. They attacked in the night,” Nathan replied.

“Did they escape?”

“No, ma’am. They paid for what they did.”

She nodded and wiped her nose. Her lips twitched. It wasn’t a smile, but a kind of consolation to know swift justice was served.

“Thank you for bringing my Brody home,” she managed to say before breaking down in tears again.

Nathan held her. It seemed a poor substitute for comfort, but it was the best he could offer.

 

 

◆ ◆ ◆

 

 

They stayed with the woman for another hour, offering condolences as best they could. After she seemed well enough, they said their goodbyes and reservedly departed. A sombre cloud followed in their wake as they mounted their horses and rode out. Their exhaustion didn’t help matters. They stopped at the first inn they came across, entered, and ate a late breakfast.

“We’ll head back to Croydon tomorrow morning,” Laird said, finally breaking the silence between the men.

Nathan groaned inwardly. The prospect of travelling all that way didn’t appeal to him in the least, especially being so close to Millsfield, where he and Brohm had their rented apartment. He just wanted to sleep in their own bed. Instead, they’d be on horseback for at least another five days. Brohm, eyes half-open and staring into space, shovelled food into his mouth. Nathan doubted he’d even heard Laird speak.

After finishing their meal, they headed upstairs. Laird, seeing they were entering the same room, called out to them.

“If you’re light on coin, just say so. You don’t need to share a room.”

“I sleep better with the big lug at my side, sir,” Nathan said.

Laird’s face flushed red. “Oh, uhm . . . okay. You have a good night, boys.” He entered his room wearing a bemused smile.

Nathan scoffed and shut the door, finding Brohm attempting to remove his clothes. He was slumped over, trapped with one arm stuck in his shirt. Nathan felt the same way—physically and emotionally drained. They managed to help each other out, stripped naked, and flopped into bed.

When he opened his eyes again, the room was dark. Muted music floated from downstairs, accompanied by boisterous laughter. He rose to open the window, letting in a cool breeze. The reek of fish wasn’t nearly as cloying as before. Perhaps he was just growing accustomed to the smell.

After standing in the night air for a few minutes, he slipped back into bed beside Brohm. The big man was dead asleep, snoring lightly. Nathan felt a smile creep across his face as he watched him sleep, and he gently kissed his forehead before closing his eyes again.

He woke again some time in the night. The din from downstairs was barely audible. Brohm had woken at some point and wrapped a large arm around Nathan, holding him close. Despite the fact Nathan was too hot, he didn’t care. He always revelled in Brohm’s embrace.

The next morning, they headed downstairs to the common area, famished. Laird beckoned them over to his table.

“We’ll head out after we finish up here,” he said with a mouth full of eggs.

“Have you thought about we talked about earlier, sir?” Brohm asked.

Laird stared at him a moment, trying to figure out what he was referring to. “Oh. You mean the lies you fed me and Shaw?”

Brohm winced and nodded.

“I still haven’t made a decision what to tell him, if that’s what you mean.”

“I don’t suppose there’s anything else we can say to sway you?” Nathan asked.

“Oh-ho! Careful, boy. You’re already on thin ice.”

After they ate and purchased provisions for the trip, they headed east back to Croydon. The excursion was a sullen one. Neither Nathan nor Brohm tried to reason with Laird again, nor did they go out of their way to make small talk. More than once, Nathan strongly considered cutting their losses and leaving. He knew Brohm would follow him without question, given he hadn’t been keen upon discovering the requirement to prove themselves to the guild. Ultimately, he decided to see it through to the end. They were so close to finding out if they’d be accepted into the guild. But would Laird keep their story a secret? The lie covering a lie. Nathan shook his head at their foolishness. They’d been given the gift to start their lives over, and a chance to redeem their true past, but it seemed like they were ruining that gift in record time. No matter what they did, they always fell back on their old, deceitful ways. He wondered if they could ever move on without their web of lies holding them down.