The Dreamfarer

34

╣Folco╟

"Sir! Sir, they're back!"

Folco tore his way out of his tent and lifted his gaze to where Piersym's finger was pointing. Sure enough, a group of warlocks were marching out of the main body of the camp, heading across the field towards Folco's tent. The leader felt a smile stretch across his face for the first time in days.

"Piersym," he said, turning towards the young guard. "Round up all the members of the council, and make sure that the conference table is ready for use." 

Piersym nodded and began to move away. Folco glanced back towards the group of warlocks and noticed, with a lurch in his gut, that some of them appeared to be limping. He called after Piersym to bring a few medics to his tent as well, just in case Jamas or Hune were amongst the injured. The boy nodded again and set off running towards the camp, not pausing to speak to the other warlocks, though Folco knew that he probably wanted to. 

Folco snapped and gestured for two of his other guards to follow him, then he began walking at a brisk pace, wanting to meet the group halfway. Upon reaching them, he roamed his gaze over all of his warlocks' forms, hoping that none of the injuries they had somehow sustained were fatal. They did not look it, and there did not appear to be any corpses being carried, so perhaps the mission had been successful to some degree, though he knew immediately that the ultimate objective had not been accomplished: Mae was not with the group. The hole in his heart burned as it grew larger.

"Hune," Folco called, lifting his chin as he searched for his commander. 

Hune stepped forward, his face somber, clearly ready to give a report of what had transpired while he was away. However, Folco surprised both of them by stepping forward and embracing the older warlock, pounding his hand against his back a few times to reassure himself that he was solid, that he was there. Folco had been more worried than he realized about Hune, and he had missed him more than he had expected in his absence.

Folco pulled away and took a step back. He did not feel self-conscious, but he did not want to be seen showing much favoritism over his warlocks; though of course, Hune was his commander, his right-hand man. None of the other warlocks seemed to be questioning his action; in fact, a few of them were smiling, Hune included.

"Good to be back, Sir," stated Hune, and Folco responded with a smile of his own.

"Good to have you back," he said. Then, addressing the rest of the group, he added, "Good to have all of you back."

He received a couple tired nods, and remembered that he did not know what sort of ordeal they had all been through. It would be kind and wise of him to send all those but Hune and Jamas to the medic's tent, to fill their bodies up with a hot meal, and to see their families.

Therefore, he waved the warlocks away, telling them to go rejuvenate and get some rest, and thanking them for their service. Then he walked back to his tent, Jamas and Hune trailing behind him.

Sable and Rudy were there, waiting at the entrance. Sable looked even more haunting when she was standing up; her hair hung over her like a cloak, creating shadows on her face where none existed. She was wearing a baggy black dress with long sleeves and what appeared to be black pants underneath, so that very little of her pale skin was visible. She struck an imposing figure, and Rudy looked very small beside her, quivering as his eyes darted around. Folco hoped that the man would soon become less of a coward; cowardice was not a trait that he wanted on his council.

"Sir," Sable greeted, inclining her head slightly. Folco smiled at her. He had quickly grown fond of Sable; she was not afraid to speak against his ideas, and when she did, it was always with respect and wisdom. He felt fortunate to have her as one of his council members, and had often found himself questioning her age. The way she spoke, with that ancient, heavy drawl, made her seem of though she was older; however, her skin, her smile, the glossiness of her hair all seemed timeless.