What Berach saw upon opening his eyes he could not comprehend. The boy stood in front of him, weeping, and all around the two of them a storm of dust and debris raged skyward, the whistling wind reaching a pitch that hurt Berach's ears. He stood in a large crater, and he felt stronger than he'd felt in years. All around the outskirts of the debris were the children soldiers of this revolutionary band, hundreds of them, gawking in stunned confusion. He remembered vaguely being beaten, going unconscious as Eoin took out his pent-up rage on Berach. Can't blame him, I let Wolf play with his mind countless times.

  As he continued to watch, the pressure he felt subsided. The torrents surrounding him and Wolf ceased, and the young boy collapsed into a state of catatonia. Berach was able to slip to one knee and get his body under the boy before he fell to the ground. Berach had to ignore his confusion. Where once the surrounding boys seemed still, now they began to murmur, to move, and their demeanors transformed from abject terror to threatening. Time to go. He didn't give the boys time to gather themselves. He picked up Wolf, threw him over his shoulder and sprinted. He picked a spot and he ran full throttle. Some of the young men tried to step in his way, but they were sluggish, and he punched through them like a wild boar through thickets. This was no time for grace. A whole army of young men now wanted them dead, he knew that much, and they had to get as far away as his legs could carry him, and as fast.

  Berach had a path through the maze of tents, barricades, and gates already staged in his mind, ready to be employed at a moment's notice. He had walked the camp so many times freely he knew every nook and cranny that he could fit into. Now he used that. He weaved through tents, leapt barricades, climbed an archer tower, surprised a young bowman with a swift kick to the face, and jumped over the encampment’s outermost wall into a deep river where all the refuse from the camp actually left on its rapid course to the Great Loch. He landed hard on the water, ensuring he would take the brunt of the force instead of the unconscious boy. He swam with everything he had to the shoreline farthest from the camp and pulled the boy up with him. He checked Wolf's breathing and was pleased to see he was well enough. A more thorough exam will have to wait. Berach picked up Wolf again and worked his way along the river bank through brush and trees, creating a trail that was easy to follow in the wrong directions and hard in the right one. They'll track us soon.

  #

  Lord McCrae hobbled to his Sergeant, gripping his arm and favoring his right leg. "Report."

  "Sir! The boy, he. Well he destroyed the guardhouse and a considerable area around it. Also..." The boy hesitated, not trusting himself.

  "Spit it out, Sergeant!" Lord McCrae was in no mood for this delay.

  "Well, Sir, he, he healed the mercenary."

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  "Healed him? What do you mean?" Eoin's mind began to race through various possibilities.

  "I can't fully explain. A great wind came up and lifted the mercenary, and the dust was everywhere, and the mercenary was healed. One minute he was, um, broken, then he... wasn’t? Sir, what's going on?" The young man’s face was twisted with confusion.

  Eoin McCrae stood silent for a time, the pain from his injuries, the emotions from before, and the shock of this new information all feeding into a deep mental paralysis. What in the hells is happening? This should not be possible...

  "Sir," the sergeant said weakly.

  It pulled Lord McCrae out from his inner turmoil long enough to snap, "What!"

  "They escaped over the southwestern fence. They leapt from the archer tower there. The boy is unconscious and was being carried." The young man reported.

  What happened will have to wait. "Send a squad to catch them."

  "I sent a squad just moments ago, Sir. But I ask that we send for dogs as well, since we have none here."

  "If there were any bloodhounds close enough that would be wise, but the trail will be dead long before we can get them here, no we will have to track them ourselves, like hunters with their prey. Fetch my horse."

  The young sergeant saluted, "Right away, Sir."

  Where will you go Berach? And by the Earth what is that thing that you carry with you?

  Berach kept a measured pace. He could not afford to run out of stamina. He had to put as much distance between himself and his pursuers as humanly possible. The vegetation farther from the river was too sparse to hide, but it made their traveling faster. He could make a dash across the plains for the nearest roads, but if they came on horseback he'd be caught in a matter of hours. He could stick to the river, but that would be relatively obvious. If he had a raft or float he could reach the Loch fast, but he didn't know anyone in the seaside towns this far north. If they were affiliated with the Forge he could just as easily be turned in or killed, and he had to keep this boy safe. Whatever had happened, Wolf had been the epicenter. If he could press all the way back south, south to Feaumant he could get out. If he broke north into the Abunai forest it's unlikely he would survive long. It was where he had met the boy, but only relatively near the road, deeper in was supposed to be highly hostile. He didn't know the path, and the stories of unnatural beasts could not be purely embellishment. Even regular bears or cougars could kill him without any of his gear.

  I can argue with myself forever, but I have to do something. Think! As Berach slowed and then stopped, hiding himself and the boy in deep brush he mused over his former training, covering over all his myriad experiences. He'd been in tight spots before. He had another option. Wait. The thought seemed so simple, yet fought against his impulse to get as far away as he could. Circle back, nearer to the camp, hide, and wait. It would be a risk, but he thought it would be most likely to put them in a position to escape properly. Besides, if the camp was emptied to search for them, they might be able to recover their equipment and, more importantly to Berach, their rations. This might just work. He looked down at the still-sleeping child and sighed before speaking aloud, "Well, Wolf, we've become quite the pair. Don't worry. I will take care of you." With that he put Wolf back over his shoulder, positioning him for ease of carry, and headed back towards the Forge, careful to maximize confusion by sometimes following his original path of flight and sometimes breaking off of it. Follow all the wrong trails.