These Old Bones

8-1

8

The four soldiers took positions to the front, back and sides, leading Brorzjav, Viriili and Tiera along the road. For half an hour they walked in silence. Several times, Brorzjav saw Tiera look towards him, as if she wanted to say something, before looking in a side-glance at their escorts and closing her mouth. He, too, glanced towards the leader. After another glance from Tiera, he groaned, making a play of adjusting his backpack and leaning over, appearing exhausted. The leader looked over his shoulder.

"Something wrong, old one?" The leader pulled his horse to a halt.

"Aye, boss. My back's giving me some proper gip today. Can I put my pack on yon horse for a while?" The leader considered the request and, after a few seconds, nodded, turning away.

Brorzjav slipped the backpack's straps from his shoulders, dropping it to the ground while he arched his back, forwards and backwards a few times. Keeping his hand at the small of his back, rubbing it, he lifted the backpack and moved to Tiera's horse. When he reached it, he started tying it to the saddle, keeping his head low.

"I think I know who this war is with." Tiera lowered her head, kicking at loose chippings on the road. "If they ask where I'm from, say 'Adrasusk'. Everything else, just tell the truth, but I'm from Adrasusk. You understand, Viriili?"

Brorzjav looked towards Viriili, as he finished tying the backpack to Tiera's saddle, and saw the girl give the faintest of nods, looking away. She was a clever one, that girl. Brorzjav didn't nod, only catching Tiera's eyes with his own. He moved back to his original position.

"All done, boss." He called to the leader. The leader didn't turn around, only tapping his horse onwards. "Any idea how long we'll be walking, boss? Only I could right do with a sit down."

"Just over the hill, old one. You should know how that feels, eh?" The leader chuckled to himself at his joke and Brorzjav gave a hacking laugh in return. "But, seriously, you're from around here, aren't you? I can tell by your dialect. You should know how far Urdza is."

"Been a while since I've been home, boss. Lot's changed." Brorzjav quickened his pace, trying to walk closer to the leader. "Last time I was here, there weren't no roads and there were no town called Urdza, neither."

"How long have you been away?" The leader turned in his saddle, looking down at Brorzjav with genuine surprise upon his face.

"Ooh. Long time. Long, long time." Playing up his decrepitness, Brorzjav shuffled alongside the leader's horse. "Weren't no king when I were here last, neither."

"There's always been a king." The leader scowled down towards Brorzjav and then winked, lowering his voice. "At least, to hear the king tell it."

"And you, boss, you're not from here, I reckon. Too posh, like." The more information Brorzjav could mine, the better chance they had of getting through this faster. "No. No. Let me guess. I'd say Yürzlend Free Companies, or Gaavjolt Mercenaries."

"Both. King Vroszav hires only the best. I, myself, am from Jngyar in Yürzlend." The leader lifted his chin, proud of his associations.

"Patrons' blood! Both? What happened while I've been away? They find gold in the hills?" Brorzjav whistled and ran his fingers through his matted hair.

"Iron, nickel and copper, actually. Your old home has become very rich." The leader pointed eastwards, towards the high hills and the mountains. "Up there, they mine the finest steel ingredients in the whole of Karramon."

"Huh. And me and me dad wasted our lives farming goats." He thought of his father, working all the hours the Patrons sent, not knowing the riches that he could have found beneath his feet. Good, thought Brorzjav, the old bastard didn't deserve to be rich. "Well, I would have wasted my life if I hadn't run away, like."