Firebrand

Chapter 567: Intelligent Conversation

Intelligent Conversation

While a lot of repairs and other work still needed to be done in and around the outpost, clearing up after the battle, Martel and Eleanor would not lend further aid to these efforts; as a new day dawned, they had their orders of resuming daily patrols. First to be ready for departure, Martel idled about in the middle of the outpost, waiting for Eleanor. It was late in the morning; both mages had required a lot of sleep these last few nights after the battle, recuperating their strength.

"Mage of fire!"

Recognising the words as much of the voice, Martel turned in the direction of the gate. Down the small thoroughfare came Starkad, along with a handful of his Tyrian companions. "You always seem to arrive after all the excitement is over," Martel replied, approaching the berserker.

"I know," Starkad grinned. "My timing is impeccable."

"Why are you back here?"

"Same as ever, really. You boys need some help watching your forests. Full of unfriendly eyes, they are. My little ravens pulled back in anticipation of the assault, but since you have handled that, we are happy to be back."

Martel wondered if he would ever see the berserker in action; perhaps it was not something he should wish for. They had a reputation for trouble with distinguishing between friend and foe. Before he could make a reply, his eyes caught sight of something unexpected. Wulfstan, the fellow working for military intelligence, had also returned to the outpost.

"Master Starkad," Eleanor spoke in brief greeting before she looked at Martel. "I am ready."

"Lady Valkyrja," the berserker replied with his typical grinning expression. "Let us speak more when you are back, mage of fire!" free.c om

"Sure thing." Martel glanced around, but the spy had vanished from his sight. "Let's go," he told Eleanor, and off they went.

***

The pair went east and afterwards north for several hours. Plenty of bodies remained in the forest, almost like concentric rings with the outpost at the centre. Carrion birds had arrived to feed, and while Martel knew it would only be a brief respite, he shot off a few flames to drive them away. All the remaining dead were Khivans; the legionaries had collected their own fallen already.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Eventually they reached beyond how far the battle had reached, and they walked in what could be any ordinary forest. The trees were in full bloom with birds singing and woodland creatures scurrying about. At times, they even sighted deer briefly before the skittish animals took off. It would have been a pleasant stroll if not for the reason behind it; they could not afford to relax or enjoy the surroundings.

Their vigilance proved unnecessary; as could be expected, the Khivans did not linger this close to the outpost. If they remained in the region, they were further out than a day's march at least. With no sign of enemies other than those already slain, the two mages headed back to camp.

***

Returning to the outpost, Martel found his mood a little better. Strangely enough, this was caused by seeing Starkad this morning. However odd it might seem, Martel liked the man's company, maybe because he reminded him of Maximilian. More importantly, the Tyrian scouts might resume their hunting and bring back some of the deer he and Eleanor had spotted. In a remote place like the outpost, fresh meat was one of the few luxuries they could get.

Once they had dumped their weapons and pack at their tent, Martel went in search of the berserker. Similar to Esmouth, the Tyrians had their own little corner of the camp. Rather than smaller tents meant for a few people, five at most, they had erected a single one, big enough for at least ten people.

"Mage of fire, you bless us with your presence!" The berserker sat outside his dwelling, using a piece of the destroyed gate as a bench.

If spoken by anybody else wearing such a grin, Martel might have thought the greeting to be sarcastic. But that did not seem to be the way of these Tyrians. "Starkad. We saw a number of deer maybe two or three hours north-east of here. I thought your so-called ravens might like to know."

"Certainly! They shall become wolves when such prey is to be found. Sit down, my friend, you are too tall to be standing makes my neck hurt to look you in the eye."

With half a smile, Martel did so, taking a seat next to Starkad on the improvised bench. "I was wondering about something. You arrived this morning in the company of an Asterian, Wulfstan. If I recall, he was also on your ship when you first came to Esmouth."

"A sly fellow, that one. He doesn't always say much but he observes. What's your interest in him?"

"He's not part of the legion, yet he seems involved nonetheless." Martel knew this was explained by Wulfstan being a spy of sorts, of course, but he figured he should keep that to himself. "I thought maybe you knew more about him, given that you arrived together."

"Not really. It was somewhat coincidental. My band was hired up north, and when we sailed towards Esmouth, we made berth in Morcaster, where he joined us as a passenger. I know nothing of his plans or purpose."

Martel should probably have expected as much; someone working in military intelligence would not divulge anything to Tyrians if avoidable. He had hoped that Wulfstan had asked questions or given tasks to Starkad and his band, but that did not appear to be the case.

"Does he concern you?" As the berserker glanced at the battlemage, his typically jovial expression had become serious.

Martel considered the question for a moment. "No, not really. Whatever he's up to, so far, it hasn't involved me."

"Very well. Now, you must tell me of the battle!"

Smiling, Martel began. "Well, the excitement began even before we arrived here. Eleanor and me, we were not even halfway to the camp when we fell into an ambush"