38. OUTPOST

  “Are you sure you can stand, Mage?” Jame asked, as he dropped the hug, wiping his eyes.

  “I can stand, thank you,” I replied. "I think I need to see Dirk."

  I stood slowly and immediately wavered. Jame came to my aid, handing me my staff to lean on while he threw his arm around me to steady my teetering legs.

  “Thank you again,” I grumbled while hobbling out the door, feeling a little dizzy. “Dirk!” I called as I entered the main room. A dozen men looked up, including Dirk himself who stood in the corner, his eyes red and bleary and his face tired.

  He stood up and moved toward me, no emotion on his face.

  “Mage, you’re awake,” he said with a decided lack of energy. He was clearly exhausted.

  “What do we know?" I asked, then said. "Do we know anything about Bend?”

  He shook his head with a small shrug, clearly indicating, I don’t know.

  Jame helped me sit at a small table in the middle of the room. I looked around, the dizziness leaving my head. I saw Greer, Shade, and several of the other Spellcasters. Some ate a meager breakfast. Others slept lightly in the corners, on the floor.

  I took a deep breath. My own negative voice rang through my head for a moment as they all stared at me. Who are you, Mage? You just got a third of your men killed—you need to stop losing men and mages. Maybe you should leave this place; it would probably save dozens, maybe hundreds of lives.

  I shook my head, banishing the thoughts. Some of the warriors in this room wore looks of anger, some of deep sadness, others just looked weary and shocked from the battle the day before. I thought of Jame’s words earlier. We all believe in what we’re doing.

  “Tell me what we know,” I said, trying to gather my own strength, be strong for those around me.

  Dirk looked at me.

  “We lost many men yesterday,” he said, his voice bearing a muted tone. “The mages suffered and incurred some dead, including Briar, Loree, Randl, and a couple more. The Factory mages who stayed behind, have been helping us get the injured here safely—many mages are already preparing themselves to go back and fight. My own fighters got hit hard, taking significant losses. I didn’t expect The Motorized to come out so aggressively against what we thought was a surprise attack, though I suppose we should have expected it. Anyway, they captured or killed or deterred almost half of our fighters. Several of my men simply retreated to their homes after the battle, wounded or unable to stomach any more fighting. After the battle, a few of our ‘eyes and ears’ left us, staying in the city. ‘Too dangerous,’ some of them say now. Some of our bolt holes have been closed off or are being watched, guarded, ready for an ambush. People are scared of Uof will do.”

  He stopped, taking a ragged breath. I nodded.

  “I think you need some sleep, Dirk,” I said to him gently.

  “I do, but first, you must know this,” he cleared his throat. “We gave them great losses as well. We killed or injured many of their men, destroyed motorized weapons wherever we found them. Most importantly, our scouts discovered a larger factory further up the mountain; quite well hidden.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “Jame mentioned it,” I said, hearing the tired sound of my own voice.

  “It’s the true source of their weapons and power, we think,” he said.

  I nodded but didn't say anything at first. The thought alone was exhausting to consider. Another, larger factory? Further up the mountain? That meant another, larger attack with more men and facing significant defenses and Valeguard.

  “It was my fault, Dirk,” I said, after a deep ragged breath. “I should've carefully planned that attack instead of just waltzing in there and trying to decimate Uof.”

  “It's not your fault Mage; I asked you to come to the city,” Dirk replied. “And you came."

  I shuddered and hoped he didn’t see it. If this was the best we could do, what chance did we have? the voice said in my head. Why was I endangering all these lives? So many dead already.

  I shook my head and looked down at my hands. I couldn’t answer Dirk in that moment. But if not here, where could I make a stand?

  “It’s a war, and war brings casualties,” Dirk said finally. “I’m glad you’re still with us.”

  That was when we heard shouts from outside.

  A young fighter, likely someone who had been out on watch, came skidding up to the doorway, his breath coming in gasps.

  “Sir, someone is coming from Vale!” he shouted to Dirk.

  I stood slowly as everyone went to the windows. With help from Jame, I moved slowly to the front door and stepped out onto the porch so I could see. On the horizon, a dark hazy shape seemed to be moving in our direction. It appeared to be a single man, hobbling across the desert toward us.

  Bend? I hoped.

  Dirk walked alongside me, and we stepped off the porch and out into the hot sun. Jame still held me on one side, while I leaned on my staff on the other.

  We could see the figure moving toward us, walking with unsure steps. Whoever he was, he was badly hurt. As he get closer and resolved into focus, it certainly looked a lot like Bend. Dirk's grew bright with ecstatic joy and he moved to run toward him.

  “Hold on,” I said quietly, my hand on his arm. “We need to know if he was followed. We need scouts out there searching for soldiers.”

  Dirk quickly dispatched several of his men to scout the area behind Bend, as he continued to walk toward us. Then when everything looked clear, and we had some cover, Dirk ran to his son.

  He met Bend while he was still some ways off. They embraced for a long moment, and Dirk helped him to walk, propping him up as Jame was helping me walk toward them. Ehren and Greer stood nearby, shadowing me protectively. Still, some ways off Bend called out to me.

  “Mage!” he said, waving.

  As I got closer, I realized that Bend was suffering. His face bloody and covered in sweat, his eyes looked red, bloodshot, and deeply bagged. He hadn’t slept. Had he been beaten? What had happened yesterday, last night?

  I walked up to him slowly, Jame letting me walk for a moment, Ehren nearby. Greer walking past Bend to get behind him and Dirk, his face searching the desert. I still felt hazy myself, but seeing Bend alive was an injection of hope.

  “They almost had me,” he said to me carefully through bleary, haunted eyes, and he barely looked able to stand up. Bend reached out to hug me. I hugged him back. Then, in mid-hug, he kissed me on the cheek, which struck me as odd. I pulled back and looked into Bend’s eyes, and he was crying. Tears fell down his face, and he wouldn’t or couldn't look directly at me.

  He fell to his knees.

  “Incoming!” someone called from behind us.

  “I’m sorry,” Bend cried out then.

  I looked up and saw a hail of blunt-nosed arrows hit the air, heading our way. Where were our scouts? I thought. Suddenly I knew with a terrible feeling in my gut that the scouts were gone and that Uof’s forces were attacking us, in our desert outpost, in our lowest moment. Before any of us could give any orders, the arrows reached a zenith in the sky and I heard the telltale sound of arrows whipping through the air.

  “You betrayed us?” Dirk whispered. Dirk fell to his knees next to Bend, crying himself.

  Bend sobbed.

  That’s when Jame let go of me and he and Ehren and Greer moved out toward the incoming arrows. I transferred all my weight to my staff, took a deep breath, and watched our mages begin to weave.