The silence somehow seemed worse than the screams of death, as though an unseen hunter were now prowling the iron maze and waiting to pounce on its next victim. Marschal hung back a few steps away from the deadly trio as they held their weapons tightly in their grips. He appreciated their alertness. If he had to be honest with himself, the young Paravellan admitted to feeling a sense of complacency on their journey. He had seen nothing but iron walls for the last......how long had they been walking down this corridor? An hour? More? Was it growing colder? The indoor chill was biting into his skin. Marschal almost missed the radiating heat from the moving walls.....Almost.
"So, Marschal," said Nivere, her eyes still set on her surroundings, "From which part of the empire do you hail from? You have the looks of a southerner to me."
He replied with a nod. "I'm from Borina. North of the capital."
Nivere nodded back. "I never did travel south as often as I'd like."
"How about you three? Where are you all from?"
"Sicaros is from a village a little south to the Fensbar Mountain Range. And Segott is from the Western Coast. As for me, I was born on a farm not too far north of the Capital."
"And how did you all end up here? After the, um......the collapse."
The three warriors slowed their paces at the mention of the last word.
"The collapse..." Sicaros whispered the word like a curse.
"It's not something we like to talk about," said Nivere. "You understand."
Marschal nodded, apologetically. "Of course. I was just wondering how we all ended up here together. Four Paravellans in the same place far from home. What are the odds of that?"
The three warriors then glanced at each other before facing forward again.
"What about you?" Nivere asked. "How did you end up here?"
Marschal grinned at the swordswoman. "I asked first."
Nivere glanced at the young Paravellan with a blank stare that seemed to study him. Or was she glaring?
"Yes, you did," she replied. "So if I tell you our story, will you tell us yours?"
He didn't answer straight away. "...Okay. It's not interesting, though."
"I should hope not. For us, after the empire collapsed, we spent the next few years continuing our fight against the war elves. But with Central Command down, our battles were next to hopeless. We were disorganized and unprepared. But, in the end, we stayed behind until all the villagers in the area were evacuated."
"Evacuated?"
"Yes," Segott cut in. "Nivere personally remained until she was sure that everyone was safe."
"And we all refused to abandon our Commander until she was satisfied with the job," Sicaros chimed in.
"Nivere was your commander?"
"Still is," the large man answered.
"Aye," Segott added.
The young swordswoman flinched at the compliments. "Our Commander died. I was Second-in-Command in our squad."
"Sounds like your men would do anything to serve you," said Marschal. "It takes a certain type of person to instil that kind of loyalty in their followers."
"You're giving me more credit than you should."
"Maybe," Marschal replied with shrugged. "I've always been fascinated by heroes."
YOU ARE READING
Warwielder - Book 1 of The Evernoth Odyssey
FantasyMarschal's down on his luck. He's a remnant of a fallen empire that once spanned several conquered nations. Now he's forced to struggle through day-to-day life with too many enemies on his tail. But all that changes when a stranger offers to grant h...
