Adversaries Together by Daniel Casey

would fish out
bodies with it?” Anders said.
    Wynne pointed to a small metal loop at the
tip of one of the spears, “You tie a rope here and then to the
spearbow hilt, so when it shoots the rope follows with it.”
    “ Then you’d pull the people
in.”
    “ The bodies,
yes.”
    “ Don’t suppose too many
would be comfortable with the idea of their loved ones being
harpooned like whales.” Garner shook his head.
    Wynne shrugged, “Comfort tends to leave
consideration once a body has been burnt to meat and bone by flame
tar, bloated three times its normal size and been fed on by crabs
and sea worms, and when limbs and heads drift to shore along with
the shards of the ships.” Neither of the civics spoke staring into
the fire or off into the darkness.
    “ Behind the keepers’ den, I
buried them. I buried probably…” he paused and looked off doing
what appeared to be a casual mental arithmetic, “…a hundred or so.
At least, one a week.”
    “ Damn.”
    He wiped his bread around his plate getting
the last of the lentils, then stared hard directly at the two
guardsmen, “Less than half of that were whole or had a recognizable
face.”

    The Highroad,
30 th of Lammas

    The hinterlands hadn’t been a problem. The
highroad rose up a good twenty feet above the surrounding land and
was built in such a way as to wind between woodlands in open space
while also through what few hills there were—literally through the
hills, it was always astounding to gaze down the road to see it
seemingly slice through hills like a knife. All possible cover was
cut back a good hundred yards from the highroad. Raised and cleared
as it was, every traveler could see anyone coming at them well
ahead of time; you were not ambushed on the highroad, which was not
to say highwaymen didn’t try. To further deter bandits and increase
the speed of commerce, the Spires had established the Far Watch.
Moving in groups of four over the highroad, you were guaranteed to
run into the watchmen every three or four hours, staggered as they
were to cross each other’s path going opposite directions.
    It was often just too much of a hassle for
criminals to deal with the highroad. Still, since the rise of the
Spires the highroads had gotten more and more lucrative. Some
organized gangs worked a handful of stretches but most highwaymen
were solo or pairings neither was much of a threat to the escorts
and watchmen from The Cathedral and Spires. It often took dimwitted
or youthful thieves an experience of terror a time or two to learn
this. However, not all guards were Cassubian or Silvincian. A good
number of the guards from more remote towns were dodgy, the
likeliness of their aid at about fifty/fifty.
    Staying just inside the tree line, Declan had
no difficulty maintaining pace with the paladin and alm while
staying hidden. The hinterlands were rivaled only by the Essian
plains to the west, which seemed to go on interminably until
draining away to a cold, gravelly shore. He had a special affection
for the hinterlands, a perfect mix of forest, hill, and plain, so
much so he found himself having to snap his attention back to his
charges. Their meandering pace gave far too much leeway to
daydreaming, and Declan had seen better men lose their life for
doing as much. He needed to focus.
    Declan knew the paladin’s reputation. Goshen
came from an honored family and had put in an impressive career of
service to the Cathedral. He’d fought in relatively small
skirmishes as the Cassubia helped establish mark states around
itself and had gone on more than a few attrition campaigns to the
south. But, it seemed as though this paladin was taking a rather
lax approach to his ward’s care. It took the pair nearly two weeks
to reach Havan, a journey that would have taken others half the
time if they had dawdled. Declan felt he was going mad. The boredom
seemed interminable, and he found it difficult to understand how
the two were managing not to go mad as