Sons of Ironstorm - Book 3: New Alliance

Chapter 5: Caravan of the Lost

"They had fled the crippled city in droves, seeking safety.

Yet safety was the last thing they found, becoming victims

Of thieves, murderers and worse, preying on the fallen

Like carrion crows picking the last gobbets of flesh

From the dead on a horror-strewn battlefield."

- from Alric of Eventide's memoirs 'The Fall of Tal Morun'

"Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all," Will muttered from his place a few paces behind the big prince. Lawrence didn't even bother throwing him a hard look. The young lord was right: he should've formed a portal immediately to Galental City and avoided this mess, which could only be caused by a Tjor'riin invasion of Kaphran lands to the west.

Instead of maintaining that conclusion, however, the broad-shouldered prince decided to ask one of the refugees for confirmation. Quickening his pace, with his mount's reins in his hands, Lawrence neared one of the wagons that traveled slowly along the edge of the highway, its box filled to capacity with not only trade goods but what appeared to be the driver's personal belongings as well. Taking note of that with a frown, Lawrence stepped close enough to talk to the driver, his tired face illuminated by an oil lamp hanging from a pole strapped to the side of the driver's seat.

"Excuse me, friend." Lawrence asked politely and the driver, a squat, balding man in a thick drover's tunic, looked up. By the small circle of light cast by the lamp, he could see that the driver's face was deeply lined by exhaustion and fear.

Quickly the big prince pasted what he hoped was a friendly smile on his face just in time for the driver's eyes to fall upon him.

"Yes?" he asked in a low, fatigue-filled voice. It was plain that the man was spent. Still he clung to his reins with the strength of the desperate.

"There seems to be a lot of southbound traffic on the highway this night. What's happened to make it so?"

Hearing the kevan inflections in Lawrence's voice and noting the man's size, the driver's eyebrow slowly climbed upwards toward the top of his head. Then he cleared his throat to speak, his Taren inflected in the locution of Kaph.

"No disrespect, neighbor, but have you been living in a cave?" he asked with a voice hoarse from fatigue before turning back to stare wearily at the shifting shadows filling the road in front of him, the traffic visibly becoming heavier with each passing length. "Monsters have flooded out of the Gyren's foul heart to invade the kingdoms of the Hammer. Our borders have fallen and dark hordes march on our capital. As they go, they slaughter us without mercy, killing men, women and children with equal fervor. No army has been able to stand in their path. It's only a matter of time before the entire country is in their foul hands. So we flee before the coming storm of death with what little we can carry."

"As we feared," Will murmured just loud enough to reach Lawrence's ears. "The Tjor'riin have begun full-scale invasions of the Hammer Kingdoms." The big prince nodded, his face thoughtful. Then he spoke, replying to the driver's words.

"Our thanks, good sir. Not news we gladly hear, but enough to explain this chaos." At the driver's nod of acknowledgment, the two moved on, carefully keeping their mounts on the edge of the road where the traffic, while thickening, was still manageable enough to move relatively quickly. Will took the opportunity to move closer until he was side by side with his friend and comrade.

"The bastards are moving fast," he observed in a low voice. Lawrence grunted in agreement.

"They're certainly not wasting time. I can only hope they haven't poured into Talemon in a similar manner. Mern's coup has our forces in complete disarray. They wouldn't stand a chance."