Two Masters (epic progression fantasy)

Chapter 19: A City Swallows a Village

A sharp pain in his chest pushed Revin unwillingly into consciousness. He pressed and felt bandages, only slightly moist. His eyes blearily blinked open. White canvas arced above him. Everything jostled and bumped. Was he in a wagon?

He sat up with a wince. He wore no shirt; but he saw it laying folded beside him. Most of the blood had been cleaned off. He put it on, his ribs smarting as he moved his arms above his head.

He lay back down and breathed, waiting for the pain to subside. He tried to remember what had happened. Did I just get shot? The answer was yes. He'd been shot, and by some miracle he'd lived.

He uttered a quick prayer of gratitude.

He lay there for a long while, hearing a rumble from more than just the wagon. Despite his curiosity, his exhaustion got the better of him, and he drifted in and out of a dreamless sleep. Something itched at the back of his head, something missing. He awoke again with a start as the wagon hit bumpy ground, rattling him. He wondered how long it had been. Light still shone through; it was probably afternoon.

Once he had mustered the strength, he crawled toward what he assumed was the front of the wagon and pulled the heavy canvas curtain aside. The bright sunshine beat his eyes, shooting pain into his skull. He blinked slowly, trying to get them to adjust.

"You're awake."

Kaiato sat at the front, looking behind at Revin. He sat next to a man handling the reins. Neither horse nor donkey pulled the wagon, but one of those large three-horned creatures which had chased him up a tree when he'd been lost in the north.

"The army surgeons said the damage was minor. You're lucky the ball stopped at your ribs."

"Yes, I'm awake, unfortunately." His head contracted and expanded with each beat of his heart, painfully pressing on his skull from the inside. He wanted to lay back down and sleep, but he had far too many questions. He had to know where he was and what was happening. And still, a question he couldn't place hovered over his mind like a raincloud.

The first thing he noticed were the towering beasts. Revin had seen drawings of giraffes before, but these put them to shame. Like the giraffe, these beasts walked on all fours, and their necks were long, but where the giraffe was only a few men tall, this beast was a few giraffes tall. And, to add to Revin's surprise, he saw a person sitting in a harness just below the beast's head.

His eyes widened as he looked up the road. A massive army marched in a long column. More wagons than he could count, the wide road filled with soldiers for what had to have been half a mile. They bore armor like Omrai, and bore swords, ridiculously long spears, and shields. Men rode on the backs of giant ostriches, more three-horned creatures, squat, and bony turtle-like beasts, and what looked like a smaller relative of the giganoto. He could feel the ground trembling with the footfalls of beasts massive enough to flatten him. His mind ached with the number of things he was seeing.

His whole life he'd been living in a tiny world, filled with tiny people and tiny beasts. Here, now, he saw how small his world was. How small and petty his rivalries with the other monks had been. The world was far, far larger than his greatest imaginings.

"What do you think, Beastspeaker?" a voice to Revin's right said. Omrai Speartip rode one of the large, ostrich-looking beasts. He sat as high as Revin in the large wagon. His gaze was piercing, his eyes locked on Revin's. He resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably.

Revin let out a nervous laugh. "I've never seen so many people in my life."

"Not many people where you're from?"