Ice warriors

Chapter 3

"We have no food,"
"I know,"
"We have not slept in two days,"
"I know,"
"We are being pursued by a group of blood lusting maniacs,"
"Are you at some point going to move onto topics I'm unaware of?"
"Well at least you can get drunk again,"
"You really are a miserable old git aren't you,"
"What's that?"
"What's what?"
"The remnants of a bloody battle just up ahead,"
"I imagine it's the remnants of a bloody battle,"
Victa muttered something then pulled his head back through, leaving Sharnark for some momentary peace.
He watched the road ahead for signs of whatever had caused this carnage. As they drew closer detail became clearer, there were dead everywhere but it was not just that. Glancing about Sharnark could see metal armour bent and twisted, elsewhere men were scorched to ash.
"Victa!"
"I can see it, just keep going," his reply muffled.
Sharnark drove the horses on until he came across a path that led off the main road, he directed the wagon along it.
"What are you doing?" Said Victa, shoving his head back out.
"Finding us somewhere off the road the rest, I'm tired and so are you, you miserable old goat and so are the horses and so am I, we should have enough distance now to ease up a bit,"
"They could catch us up and kill us in our sleep,"
"Well at least that would be an end to your complaining. They won't have carried on as we have, they will have slept and rested their horses. We can't keep going ourselves, if by some freak chance they catch us up I'll let them kill me twice as much and leave you be,"
Victa swore and disappeared once again.
The path led them up to a wide one storey farm house, with stables attached. In the far distance cows were ambling about, the dull sounds carried on the wind.
From the main door a two black pointed ears burst out, barking viciously. Just after them a barrel chested brute lumbered out, a heavy crossbow loaded.
The dogs hurdled the barrier fence but pulled up short on the barked order of their owner. The man then took his time approaching, as the dogs snapped and snarled, too close to their horses. Horace and Badger would not suffer the mutts if they came any closer. Sharnark places the reigns down then crossed his arms, loosening a blade hidden up his sleeve, a quick gesture and the farmer would be dead.
"We are simply travellers, looking for a place to rest our heads,"
"Cow crap are you. I'll believe that you want somewhere to sleep by the state of you, but you aren't simple travellers"
"What makes you say that?
"I have my reasons, but mostly I have a good nose for sniffing out other soldiers. You deserters?"
"I think your nose has the wrong scent,"
"Son, you might think your quick with that knife hidden behind your arm, but I am deadly with this. Do you want to find out whose quicker? Or just tell the truth?"
"Kill him, we can't be slowed," whispered Victa from behind.
"I know I'm faster but I can't see any harm from a bit of honesty. I used to be a soldier but left for my own reason that I won't say. I am following a man who has something that doesn't belong to him and I am being pursued by bandits who want to kill me. I now buy and sell alcohol from around the empire and am willing to share some for your understanding."
"You weren't kidding when you said a bit. I don't want any trouble, how far behind you are these men?"
"Half a day I hope, but I can't really say,"
"Very well, put your wagon in the stables then come through to the house, I'll fetch you some grub,"
Sharnark did as such, taking time to rub down all four horses and give them what little feed there was left. Meanwhile Victa muttered his paranoid complaints as he broke apart cleaned and resembled the Batista. Sharnark selected two bottles before they entered the house through a door that led straight through, the smell of herbs took them to the kitchen. Where the man was stirring a pot, his crossbow laid on the table just behind him, out of reach.
"My names Danson, take a seat,"
"Horban, and my comrade is Fidas," said Sharnark
"Is that right?"
Sharnark said nothing, glaring briefly at Victa as Danson continued to stir the pot.
"What are you cooking?" Said Victa, apparently unable to bare the silence.
"Beef stew," said Danson turning around. "Horban wasn't it?" He said resting his palms on the table looking directly at Victa.
"He is Fidas, I am Horban," interrupted Sharnark
Danson looked at him momentarily, then he quickly grabbed the nearest bottle.
"Interesting choice, Voska from the north yes? You been to the north Horban?"
"I've passed through before,"
Danson didn't speak for a long while he just looked at him.
"Let's have a drink with lunch then, he turned holding the bottle and collected three small wooden cups from an overhead cupboard. Placing them on the table he poured three healthy measures. He drained his cup then refilled. Sharnark did the same whilst Victa sipped at his.
Victa watched carefully, his eyes switching rapidly between the pair as they drank and talked like soldiers. Unimportant conversations about battles and senior staff and soon enough the pair was certainly drunk.
Danson eventually slopped some of the stew into wooden bowls for them and they are noisily while he spooned his.
When he was finished he asked where he could lay his head and went off to find that place as they opened the next bottle.
Victa along the single corridor then turned left before the stables into a small room with a single bed. He hung his jacket on the door peg and kicked off his boots then crawled into bed and let sleep take him.