Fall of the Sebrle 2
The captain had sent half of them out to the plantation, while the other half remained to secure the manor house and dock, as well as treat her father and get the whole of the story from him.
It might not have been enough.
The fading sunlight was already making it difficult to trek through the narrow lines between the paddies filled with veritable fields of rice. Worse, a thick, oily fog hung in the air, clinging to their bodies as they walked.
Her stomach rolled as her body tried to panic, kept only barely in check by her will. Control was the key, The soldiers with her weren’t doing as well.
“By the First,” Tobias growled, his eyes flicking back and forth between the rows of rice. I feel like something is following us. Dammit, this is just the Disquiet, right?”
“It is,” Eirwen said quietly, trying to keep her voice level. It didn’t really sound convincing.
“Empty noise,” Tobias swore, his head jerking to the side. “How do people work with this feeling? Feels like a monster could just appear out of thin air and tear my throat out.”
“It could,” Janette mumbled.
Eirwen took a deep breath to calm herself, an act which she instantly regretted. There was the stench of death in the air.
“Tobias!” A shout came from down one of the paddy aisles. “By the First, get up here!”
The squad quickly, the cloying feeling of the Disquiet forgotten for a moment, as they hastened to reach the soldier.
The discovery was not a good one. The bodies of at least a dozen plantation workers were strewn about the area.
There were no words for the anger that flashed through Tobias’ eyes. “All right, we can’t do this this way. Everyone spread out! Check for any survivors! Finding Master Mirek is still our priority, but if there are plantation workers still alive, I want them found too!” He drew his sword and started gesturing in directions for people to head. “Stay in earshot of each other! Don’t enter any of the buildings alone!”
The soldiers nodded. Tobias cast a glance towards Eirwen. “If you want, you can-”
“I’ll be fine,” Eirwen said. “Master Mirek taught me a lot about the Disquiet. I’ll be okay.”
He grunted and nodded. “Same goes for you then. I respect your position, Eirwen, but while you’re out here, you’re one of my soldiers, got that.”
“Yes, sir.”
He nodded. “Good. Everyone report back to here in fifteen.” There was a moment of hesitation from the soldiers. Even Eirwen could feel it, the foreboding pall hanging over the field. The bodies only made it worse; the fallen plantation workers were a promise of what awaited them. They were all already dead, they just hadn’t realized it. “Get out there! If Lord Mirek dies because you were all too afraid to come out here, it’ll be your head!”
The got them moving, Eirwen noticed. The fear that had been clinging to all of them seemed, at least temporarily, to dissipate. Even her heart, burdened with the certainty of what she had seen in the inn, felt lighter.
It was a shame the feeling couldn’t last as she crept down the length of the paddy, moving between the rows of rice, her feet sinking into the thin layer of muck from which they grew. The plants themselves rustled, blown about by a breeze that she couldn’t feel, while the unnatural, bony trees that grew of their own accord scratched and rattled above her. The thick mist dilluted what little light remained.
Her hand remained tightly gripped around her staff.
Could she oppose an abomination if she encountered one?
It shouldn’t happen, of course. Part of the duty of a Guardian was to patrol the plantation for abominations and eliminate them before they grew into true threats, but... She let the thought trail off. It didn’t matter.
She narrowed her eyes. There was a copse of trees right at the edge of the paddy, overgrown through the various stumps that had been made trying to control it. Was there a darker shape at the base of it? Despite the fact that she should be cautious, her footsteps hastened. This was too far out for a plantation worker to be alone.
As she neared, she broke into a full run.
It was.
“Master Mirek!”
It was!
The hope that swelled in her heart drained away in the same instant it was born. He was leaning limply against the tree, his leather plated tunic stained red with blood. He hadn’t responded to her.
“I found him! Get the medic, hurry!” Eirwen yelled at the top of her lungs. This was no time for tears. If she could do something, she would. Her shaking hand reached for his neck. She managed not to react defensively as his hand grabbed her wrist. The grip was incredibly weak.
He hacked violently, nearly falling over, his arm shaking as he tried to hold on to her. “I...”
“First! Master Mirek, don’t move!” She begged, bring another hand and gently touching his face. “It’s okay! It’s okay!”
“I have to...” He hacked again, slumping further. Fresh blood stained his vest.
She could hear the rest of the soldiers approaching, but his injuries were incredibly serious. It was a miracle he was still alive. He could well die before the medic could get here if he thrashed. Her voice softened as she shifted him, laying him down on the muck as well as she could. It wasn’t as if he could resist.
“Shhh, Mir. Everything is going to be okay. I’m here for you. Don’t move, okay?”
“Eirwen... I need to...” His voice sounded so far away. “I can’t... She did it... I have to... Why... Why can’t I...” His eyes were unfocused.
“Shh...” she said again, her hand touching his freezing cheek as she tried to gently peel away the tunic. She could feel tears threatening her eyes as she looked at the deep wound in his gut. It was an unfathomable miracle that he was even alive at this point; no doubt the abilities of a Guardian had kept him alive to this point. They were clearly beyond even their limits. “Stay with me, okay?”
The shouts were going up all through the plantation now.
“Eirwen... I...”
“I’m right here, okay? I’m going to stay right here with you, Mir. This is going to hurt a little, but you can take it, right?” She extracted a small bottle of alcohol, as well as cloth, from the little pack she carried with her.
He didn’t even move as she poured it over his wound, mumbling in delirium.
She pressed the cloth to the wound. She squeezed her eyes closed, crushing the tears that tried to escape. “Don’t die, Mir. Please. Don’t.”
