NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: The Adventures of the Creeping Bam (BOOK 1: The Job)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: GAEL

In spite of the slight dull ache in my back and the sluggish unsteadiness of my form, it's still a blessed relief to be back in the saddle right now. Certainly my horse seems to be taking it easy on me, if there's any sense of resentment in her after I put her through hell yesterday she's hiding it well, or perhaps she's plotting something for further down the road. Or maybe I'm just reading too much into it.

Krakka's stayed stubbornly by my side this whole way too, and while he's remained stoic the whole time I know he's still pretty concerned about me, especially now I'm riding again. If it were up to him I'd still be in the back of the cart, but we need that space now for our new prisoner.

Tarrow, that's his name apparently, is unhappy. Okay, that's probably an understatement. He's pissed off. He probably expected, after Kesla finished questioning him, that she'd just cut his throat, or maybe use her axe on him again, this time putting the sharp of the blade into his skull. I think he was even counting on it. Orcs are strange, the way they're so hung up on their honour to the detriment of almost everything else, especially their own personal well-being. Maybe he even hoped she'd cut his bonds and then let him relieve the shame of his capture by giving him his sword back to fight to the death.

Maybe he genuinely expected her to just cut his bonds and let him walk out of the cave. He said as much as we started loading the cart, complaining that she'd said she'd let him go after he answered her questions. She informed him she had every intention of living up to that promise, but not yet. First she wanted to put some real distance between us and the rest of his band before letting him out of her sight.

He lit into her after that, started calling her all kinds of unpleasant things, words I've never even heard with my vast vocabulary. Turned the air pretty blue for a while there. Then Art stuffed a rag in his mouth, making sure it wasn't pushed too deep so it might actually choke him, and tied it in place with a little more rope. Tarrow's been complaining pretty much non-stop since, but at least we don't really have to listen to it any more.

I saw the bodies when I finally came down from the cave, Krakka helping me all the way. It's frustrating, I'm usually a lot more sure-footed, I suspect my elf blood makes it impossible for me to put a foot wrong under normal circumstances, but I had to be guided the whole time I made my descent. The whole way down I was certain I'd turn an ankle, break a leg, maybe take a tumble and break my neck. What an ignoble end to Gael Foxtail that would have been. I was downright fraught when our cleric got me down to where the others had pretty much finished loading the cart again. Then I saw the corpses, still laid out amongst pools and splashes of what looked like black oil in the gloom, and I stopped thinking about myself entirely. It was not a pretty fight.

Kesla and Art did what they could for the fallen before we left, but it still ultimately amounted to just dumping them to one side so they weren't in the cart's way. Kesla looked very uncomfortable the whole time, but it was Art who seemed particularly tense and quiet. It took me somewhat by surprise.

We're not running by any means, but Kesla's insisted on a brisk pace even so. Thankfully the horses have responded to the general mood well enough, sensing the urgency and putting aside any personal reticence regarding the ever-present precariousness of the scree underfoot to keep trotting. It probably helped that Yeslee went round to each of them before we set off, asking for their very best, I suspect. She certainly does have a way.

Even so, it's been hard going since we set off. It was still fully dark when we set off, and in deference to the horses and to Wenrich and Krakka, whose own eyes are as useless as Kesla's in those conditions, we lit some torches so the path was clear. Yeslee went off to scout ahead again, of course, not suffering from any such shortcomings, and Kesla's had her fancy new eyewear to help her in the lead. Even now, as the sky's growing bright overhead and everyone can see their hands in front of their faces now, it still feels perilous going like this.