Warwielder - Book 1 of The Evernoth Odyssey

Chapter 5 - Across the Lake

Marschal followed Kollo's eyes as he struggled to row the boat. He peered over his shoulder to see four bandits in the distance standing knee deep in the lake's water. When the boat drifted close enough to shore, Kollo's men began to wade their way to the vessel. Marschal continued rowing until he felt hands land onto the boat, guiding it to land, which he took as his cue to cease rowing lest he smack one of his helpers with an oar.

With a heavy breath and exhaustively sore muscles, Marschal took advantage of the respite to view his destination. He could see a shoreline that stretched far from north to south, paralleling the edge of a forest that reminded Marschal of an army of trees standing vigil against trespassers. He could hear the birds waking up underneath a sky that was gradually growing blue in the distance. However, the chill of the night before still remained.

"W-what happened to your hand, boss?"

Marschal felt the boat lighten when the water splashed beside the boat. He turned to see Kollo marching through shin-deep water towards the beach, ignoring his man's question. Clearly, Kollo had other things on his mind.

"Papa!"

The Paravellan noticed a small scruffy-haired boy shooting across the shallow water towards Kollo. 'Who was this?' Marschal asked himself.

Kollo knelt into the drowned earth with arms outstretched like inviting gates, until the boy jumped up into his enveloping embrace. Marschal observed the interaction with a raised brow. When they eventually broke away from their hug, the boy finally noticed Kollo's missing hand. "Papa! Where's your hand?!"

"Don't worry about it," said Kollo with a smile as he combed his fingers through the boy's hair. "Everything will be fine."

A son? How...unexpected.

Marschal made a mental note to assess that information later. However, for now, as touching as their intimacy was, Marschal couldn't help but shift his attention to the sword on Kollo's back. Marschal bristled at how comfortable the blade seemed, hugging the bandit's back. As though it were a perfect fit. The Paravellan shook his head ever so slightly. So close. Yet so far. However, his longing gaze at his own property was rudely interrupted when one of Kollo's bandits pulled him out of the boat from his collar.

"Watch your eyes, boy," Marschal looked up to see a face growling into his eyes. " Or I'll gouge them out."

The Paravellan's cold glare vanished just as quickly as it appeared, as Marschal held up his hands in mock surrender.

"What happens now, boss?" said another bandit. Marschal's handler turned to the rest of the conversation, leaving the Paravellan hanging from his grip with his feet submerged in lake water.

Kollo detached from his son and kissed him on the forehead before scooping him up and lifting him from the shallows. The bandit leader waded his way to dry land as he answered the question. "We head south and east. To Biteque."

Apparently, Marschal's harasser decided that now was the time to trudge off to the rest of the group while dragging the scrawny Paravellan with him. Marschal's feet flailed around trying to plant themselves into a standing position. If it weren't for the bandit's hand around his collar, Marschal would have plunged into the shallow water and, with his luck, probably drown. He could hear the others continuing their dialogue as though his treatment were nothing but background noise.

"Biteque...That's a long way, boss."

"Not if we go through the forest."

"The forest...Are you sure?"

"We have no choice."

"What about this one?"

The bandit literally threw Marschal into the discussion, causing him to fall into a kneeling position like an offering to be judged. With hands and knees digging into the soft dirt, Marschal didn't have the energy to look up to meet Kollo's eyes.