Chapter 11 - You're coming with me.

“Get him on the damn table. Put him there. You two, back away, now!”

The mule had been found covered in blood atop the hill. Next to it lay Elias, mumbling and shaking. His whole body had gone cold, and his eyes no longer worked. The three long gashes down his back now oozed a white pus, and black veins swelled around them.

Now, belly down upon the desk, Thomas knelt next to his oldest friend. Elias’s lips moved, but only a faint groaning came out. Thomas grasped the dying man’s outstretched hand and squeezed it tight.

“I’m here, Elias. You’re safe home now.” He looked up at Joseph, who stood stupidly, still holding his torch. “Don’t just stand there, move! Go get the doctor.” Joseph snapped back to life upon hearing the desperate rage in Thomas’s words. He spun around and bolted out of the hall, leaving only the three men and Elias alone once more.

Noah paced back and forth, biting his nails, tears welling up in his bright eyes. The hooded man simply stood off to the side, attempting to blend in with the room’s furniture as much as humanly possible. Only Thomas remained by Elias’s side, speaking to him and soothing his friend the best he knew how.

The master sang to his friend in a shaky tone. He sang songs that Noah had never heard before. They told simple stories of men and women traveling about a grand city, in a large caravan. They moved around it, meeting new travelers with each pass they made by the gates, until finally, on their tenth pass, they met the general of a great army. The song cut off before Noah could hear the end.

“Stop singing, you fool. You’re hurting my ears.” Elias’s voice grumbled forth as he let go of Thomas’s hand, swatting it down.

Thomas wiped a hand across both eyes, and let out a faint cry. When Noah moved forward to speak, Elias simply pointed a finger to him and the youth immediately halted. He watched the two men, a deep tenderness grew around Elias’s face, and it became clear his desperate strain to keep himself from crying.

“Elias, can you hear me?”

“Of course I can hear you. Let me sleep.” Thomas snapped his fingers and pointed to a pitcher of water upon the beverage table. He gestured for it to be brought to him, which Noah readily did. He snatched it away from the boy’s hands and held it over Elias’s pale face.

“Sorry about this, but I need you to stay awake.”

The draft sputtered across the table and onto the floor. Elias jolted, now totally conscious, but still weakened, and blind. He reached his hand back out, feeling for a world now lost to him.

“Ira? Ira, where are you?” Thomas grasped his friend’s hand once more. He pressed the cold hand into his chest, and held firm.

“No, Elias. It’s me, Thomas. Remember? You’re home again.” Elias’s sightless eyes peered about where he heard the voice, then down to the hand. A fearful look came over him.

“Thomas? Thomas who? Where is Ira?” Thomas reached out one hand and placed it upon his friend’s bearded cheek, stroking it soothingly.

“Thomas Greywall. It’s me, remember?” The look of fear only grew upon Elias’s face, and the confusion returned.

“That can’t be. Little Thomas is just a boy. Who am I talking to? Why is it so dark? Ira?” The shout for his dead wife’s name jolted Thomas’s heart, and he jumped a bit.

“Elias, Ira is…” He saw the desperation in the sightless eyes, and his heart broke again. “Ira is busy right now. She will be here in a little while.”

“Why is it so dark?”

“Because you drank a little too much, you old fool.” Thomas chuckled at his own lie, and it sent tears that had been dripping over his lips flying. “You need to remain here until it wears off.” Elias made a move to rise, but only managed a couple of inches before falling flat. His breath came in gasps, and his eyes became heavy. Thomas realized, no doctor could change fate now. “Just be still, alright.”

“Did they all get in? Did they let them all through the gates?” Understanding filled Thomas’s mind, and he nodded.

“Yes, yes they all made it through. You did a good job, Elias.” The man’s breathing slowed and the tension in his body relaxed upon hearing this. Thomas even thought he caught a glimpse of a smile forming on the blue lips.

“Good. I- I wasn’t sure if they all received the message in time.”

“They did, Elias. They all did. Trust me. Even little Thomas and Avi made it.” Elias chuckled weakly.

“I knew you weren’t him. Voice is far too old and stupid sounding. His is just stupid sounding.” Thomas let out a laugh that broke into a sob. His lips trembled.

“Thank you, sir. Thank you for helping us. I will never forget it. Not until the day I die.” Tears streaked down his ruddy cheeks, as he pulled Elias’s hand against his own face. Elias’s face faded, then returned to awareness one last time.

“Ira, I have an idea. Once this is all over, I want to travel south. I hear that’s good farming country. Always wondered what it would be like to farm. Why don’t more people do that for a living?” Then his eyes faded away, and his body slumped to the table. With the dead man’s hand pressed hard against his face, Thomas broke into an uncontrollable sob. He bowed his head, and wept.

A setting sun and a clear sky hung in the sky as the last shovel full of dirt was flung onto the grave. A cold fog hung over the graveyard, pulling in the world around them, and glowing red as the setting sun reflected throughout its moisture. A stone stood, fresh carvings near its top.

Elias Forester. Husband of Ira Forester.

Just below the words the image of a hoofprint had been carved. Noah did not understand its meaning, but thought better of asking. Only three others now stood next to him before the grave. Those town members who attended had long since gone. Joseph held Avice close in his arms as she sobbed quietly. Beside them, standing stern as the stone itself, Thomas looked down at the grave. His brow furrowed and jaw tight. Not a single motion came from his body.

The grave digger patted down the loose earth, and stepped back nodding to the attendees. Avice moved forward, placing a white lily before the stone as she whispered a blessing. Joseph placed an arm around her shoulders, and walked her back to the village.

Wind billowed about, whipping cloth and hair in a manic frenzy, refusing to let the world of the graveyard find peace. Small bits of the fresh mound were sent whirling up and about Noah’s face. He looked heavily at the stone, tears blurring his vision. His hand gripped hard the ash club within his belt.

“That makes six.” Thomas’s voice took Noah, and he broke from the trance, now looking towards the older man. Wrapped in a red tunic, and fur lined cape slung around his shoulders, he seemed a picture of nobility contrasting the world about. “Or at least, six that we know of.” Noah lowered his gaze, and his grip upon the weapon failed. “And it still remains alive. How far I have fallen.” The final words seethed from tightening lips.

“You did what you could.” No sooner had the words left Noah’s lips than he had regretted them. Thomas squeezed his eyes shut, as one seized with a sudden physical pain.

“You would do best to speak as little as possible, child.” Noah, feeling his stomach twisting into knots, turned away, looking to the radiant falling sun. It warmed only his face, just enough that he felt a moment of life in his mind. Then Thomas spoke again. Although, this time, no anger filled his words. Instead a deep rooted sorrow came forth. “I did what I did. But make no mistake, I did not do all that I could. And for that, I will always bear this shame.” Noah turned back around to see that Thomas’s head hung low, and tears now dripped to the freshly disturbed soil. After a moment he looked up at the guard. His eyes, while red and puffy, showed resolution. “I let them all die. I was not fast enough to act, nor was I willing enough to take action. But hear me now, I will not stand by anymore. Come. We must hurry.” Thomas whirled around and began hastily marching back to the town’s gate. Noah glanced between the man and the grave several times before following.

Inside of the Master’s hall, Thomas set about packing a bag. He filled it with supplies and clothes, enough for several days. Throwing off the cape and tunic, he dressed in clothing more rugged and sand colored. Noah stood in the doorway, unsure of what the packing might be about. Any attempt to converse with the man at this time was ignored as he not once looked at the guard.

“Joseph!” The sudden barking for the watchman made Noah jump, and he scurried away from the door as Joseph rushed to fill his place. Thomas stopped only for a moment to look at him. “Ah, good. Go to the stables and get two horses. Something well rested, and not too slow.”

“Yes, sir. Right away.”

“And go tell Noah to bring enough clean clothes for at least two weeks.” Joseph stopped mid turn, and looked from Thomas to Noah, who now stood in the corner to the right of the door. Noah stepped forward, looked at Thomas.

“Sir, I am right here.” Thomas looked to him for the first time, blinking repeatedly.

“What are you doing here? Why aren’t you packing? Joseph, I said go get the horses.” Joseph, without another word, bounded down the front steps, and vanished into the town square.

“Sir,” Noah took several more steps towards Thomas. “What are you talking about? Where are you going?”

Thomas continued his walk about the hall, picking up camping tools and waterskins to add to his growing arsenal. When the question reached his mind, he simply walked to the desk, grabbed a small leather book and tossed it to Noah. The young man looked at it front and back.

“A journal Elias had with him. The majority of it is meaningless to our cause. However, the last portion. I read it this morning.” He stopped, breathing heavily. “It might confirm what I have been suspecting.” He continued his packing. “But, I can’t be sure. Which is why we have to go to the palace. They will have the information I am looking for.”

“Windgrad? You’re going there, now?” Thomas had walked over to the sword he had left upon the ground the previous night and lifted it to eye level.

“Yes,” he said, words a mere whisper. Then he gripped the weapon tight and turned about. “Yes, we are.”

“Why do you keep saying we?”

“Because, you were unfortunate enough to be hiding in my wardrobe last night.” He walked over to the desk after placing the sword upon one of the bags, and began writing on a blank parchment. “Sorry to say, I won’t be letting you out of my sight anytime soon.”

“Why? Shouldn’t you be more worried about Giles? He’s out there still.”

Thomas stopped his writing, and looked up. His brow wrinkled in frustration. Placing the quill down, he raised himself up and let out a heavy sigh.

“I suppose I gave you too much credit. Tell me, Noah, do you know what Giles is?”

“You said it yourself, he is an assassin. Killed some boy.” Thomas nodded his head to the answer.

“Not just some boy. He killed a royal boy. A prince named Charden. Then, he made it to look like a member of Warrenhall did the deed. Do you understand what this means?” Noah shook his head. “It means that someone hired Giles to frame another kingdom for the death of the prince of Greyrock. Do you think the rulers of Greyrock will simply take this and not act?” Noah, again, shook his head. “No. Not likely. And to top it all off, only four people in all of Tovoran know of this. Me, my rider, Giles, and you.” He let the final word hang in the air.

“But why keep me with you? Why would anyone care what I know?” Noah felt his heart quicken in its pace. Thomas went back to writing on the paper.

“Noah, tell me, after a man has completed a job he has not yet been compensated for, where does he go?”“Hmm? He goes to the person who hired him to be paid.”

“Exactly. Now, Giles was not fleeing back north through the mountain pass. So, it is safe to say his employer is somewhere in Tovoran. And he was not running to Warrenhall.” Thomas finished his writing and looked up. “So, tell me, where was he heading?” He walked out from behind his desk and over to Noah whose face had grown a shade whiter.

“You think he was heading to Windgrad?”

“Yes, Noah. I do.” Thomas held the paper out to Noah. The guard took the paper without even noticing. “And it will only be a matter of time before whoever hired him notices he has not made it back to them, and they start questioning those whom he might have had contact with along the way. As a guard of one of the towns of Windgrad’s realm, you will be first on the list.” The youth felt his knees growing weak.

“But, why take me to the palace with you? That’s right into the bear’s cave isn’t it?” Thomas pursed his lips and nodded.

“In a way, yes. However, it is the last place they will look for you. Plus, as long as you’re with me, I can make sure you don’t talk too much.” He turned away and back to his packing. “Now, do me a favor and take that paper to the man staying in the tavern.”

“But what about Giles? Aren’t we sending anyone after him?”

“Noah, he has a three day head start on us, and is riding Elias’s horse, one of the fastest horses in the realm. Any hopes we had at catching him ourselves are long gone. He could be on the other side of Tovoran before we are out of the gates. Now, take that paper like I told you.”

“Y-yes, sir.” As Noah turned to leave, Thomas called out one more time.

“And Noah,” Noah looked at him. “Learn to not stick your nose where it might get chopped off. You and Giles seem to have the same skill in that way.”

“What skill, sir?”

“The skill of getting involved at the center of Tovoran’s wars.”