***
Sye grabbed the front of Zook's cloak and shook him, “There's nothing you can do for her, we have to go!”
“I'm a Healer!” Zook shouted again.
Sye looked into his eyes. They were lost, no sense dwelled there, “She's dead Zook.”
“No!” Zook screamed at him, “She's breathing, I can see it!”
“She isn't, you're imagining it! Come back to us Zook!”
“I see it, look!” Zook fought harder.
“There's nothing you can do!”
“Let her go Zook,” Eris pleaded, “Idusces has her now, you've done all you can. She’ll be Judged fairly and given to Dilligence. If we stay here more will die.”
Zook stopped his struggle. He looked to the slim figure lying in the mud as they pulled him away. The shouts and screams did not follow them and soon faded in the distance. The only sound was their feet against the stone.
Sye let Zook lean on him, he was afraid that if he let go Zook would let himself fall. Sye looked at his friend and saw that tears were silently making clean streaks through the grime on his face. Zook's eyes were not looking at something in the mortal world, their color darker than Sye had ever seen before.
How long until he breaks and we lose him entirely? Sye wondered grimly, And how long will it take the rest of us to follow?
They walked, and walked. And walked. The now clean abandoned buildings looked even more forlorn compared to their wave broken brethren.
“Kingsmin's springcarts are only a little further,” said Jakmin.
“I thought this was supposed to be the safest road,” Sye said angrily, giving Zook to Eris.
“Their convoy is supposed to leave today,” Jakmin continued, not heeding Sye with even a look, “You four have perfect timing.”
“Jahrst sent us this way to get a few kills for him, didn't he?” Sye pressed on with growing volume.
Jakmin didn't reply, his set expression saying as much. Sye hurried forward and turned, stopping in front of Jakmin.
“How did Jahrst get relieved from duty?” Sye asked.
Jakmin remained silent, regarding Sye with a casual eye. Suddenly, Jakmin moved. That’s all Sye saw, before he felt the cold of Jakmin’s sword at his throat. Eris and Pird started then held still, backing away from Jakmin's men who had their hands on their swords. Sye resisted the urge to swallow, the sword's point resting on the lump of his throat.
“I'm going to warn you once,” Jakmin said calmly, as though as he had done nothing more than shake Sye's hand, “Just once. Jahrst is a dangerous man. I hope he never has a hand in whatever you four are up to. They say war is but a game, but he takes it to the next step. He throws away those under his command without regret or emotion.”
“He said,” Sye whispered, “That if I had killed his man he would do the same to me.”
“Yes, he would say that. That is how he managed to get to commander. He sees the proficiencies and flaws of every person and uses them to their fullest potential. But he does not see feeling or compassion. You would argue that he feels because he would become angry at a man's death. It isn't the anger of one who lost a friend or comrade, it's of one who lost his rook to a pawn.”
Jakmin paused, the continued more quietly, “He was stripped of his command after he sent a platoon to kill a group who were inciting open war against Benji. War over rumors of another invasion of D’buul. He did not tell his men the information revealing this group had come from the mouth of a criminal. A criminal who was tortured and was threatened with death if he did not say the words Jahrst wanted to hear, nor that each of the group's members had children, wives, husbands, families. Families that were rooted deep within D’buul ancestry. Families that turned all the tribes against the platoon and ripped them apart,” Jakmin lifted the sword higher, forcing Sye's chin up. “Take care of what you say of Jahrst. The only ones I trust with this mistrust are my own men. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Sye whispered, not able to nod without impaling himself, “I understand.”
Jakmin searched Sye's eyes for a moment before flicking his sword back into its sheath. Sye watched him warily, touching the itching skin the point had grazed.
“Keep moving,” Jakmin ordered.
They walked through the dead city. For a moment Sye wasn’t sure where he was. Is this one of the broken streets of Eretia? The drowned Royanter? The shattered Benji? Does it matter which ruin I am in anymore? Which graveyard?
They came to a man who stood before a tall chest of drawers with a podium before him. His clothes were only tinged with dirt, as his mouth was only tinged with a frown. A thin mustache perched on his lip and his hair was slicked to a greasy sheen.
“You can turn around right now Jakmin,” the man said, looking down his nose at them, “Save yourself a few steps. I send you back to the commander with the same answer as last time, and the time before that and before that. My carts are for transporting citizens, not soldiers.”
“I came to see if you had a few extra seats for these three,” said Jakmin.
“Ah, customers!” said the man, his expression instantly changing to that of an eager businessman, “My favorite kind of people! Where are my manners, I am Kingsmin, your trust in travel.” He looked the four over, his eyes dwelling on Eris a second too long. Sye saw her shift uncomfortably under the man’s gaze. He found himself clenching his fists.
“Are you planning on taking that with you?” Kingsmin asked, nodding to Eris’ hammer.
“We're taking everything with us,” said Sye, forcing his fists to relax.
Kingsmin flipped a few thick pages of a book on the podium, making a mark with a heavy silver pen, “Then a one way ticket on one of my very comfortable springcarts to Bakaar will come to twenty taps of silver.”
“Twenty?” asked Sye in astonishment, “That's ridiculous! We’re standing in a ruin!”
Kingsmin made a loud clopping noise with his tongue, “But since it is a ruin, twenty taps won't be too hard to find.”
Sye gaped at the man then turned to Jakmin, “Are you not hearing this? Do something or I'll have to!”
“He has a springbow leaning behind that podium,” Jakmin said casually.
Kingsmin smiled, tipping the handle of the weapon to the side so they all could see, “What's a businessman without guarantees?”