Red fog wafted and slithered through the courtyard. The defenders of Ost Guruth sat crouched over their steaming mugs of mulled sugar wine. They kept moving about restlessly and puffing clouds of steam from their mugs.
”Get ready… get ready!”
Hellrien sat and watched the soldiers in their chores. Somehow the sight reminded her of her time with The Sworn Brotherhood - soldiers sharing modest living conditions with their comrades in arms inside the murky bowels of the Blue Mountains. Later she had found the same Spartan living quarters, the same camaraderie with another band of brothers and sisters - The Bloody Dawn. Sometimes she wondered why this kind of environment was the only thing that had ever felt like home to her – the fires, the piles of weapons, the guards…
”Form up!”
The party formed up in the courtyard. Hellrien joined them. The guards saluted them.
”Forward, march!”
The small band of soldiers marched through the gates of Barad Dhorn into the red gloom of Agamaur.
Hellrien walked by Eriac. The sun had not yet risen above the crumbling walls and mountain peaks. They advanced quickly northward, taking advantage of the coolest time of the day.
The scouting party advanced quietly one mile after another. Every now and then they froze still when they thought they had seen something. Was there a movement behind that wall? Did that tree just move? They made progress painfully slowly, and it exhausted Hellrien. It exhausted the defenders of Ost Guruth as well.
After a few hours they spotted a wall and a gate. Eriac stopped them.
”We are getting closer to Garth Agarwen”, he said to Hellrien. ”They have often outguards by this gate. We must be careful.”
The soldiers approached the gate carefully, but spotting nobody there, they moved past it quickly and quietly. On the other side of the gate a wall of rock blocked their way, forcing them to turn right or left. Eriac chose to go right. As they circled around the rock wall, Hellrien was the first to spot the moving mass in a gulley to their right.
”Wights!” she whispered to Eriac.
”Forward!” Eriac huffed, lifting up his fist.
The soldiers took positions both sides of the gulley, making sure that their flanks and rear were clear. Hellrien had to grin. Everyone here knew their business at least.
They stared into the dark chasm, clouded by red mist. At first they could only see a swarming mass of something moving in the gulley, maybe a hundred feet away. But soon their eyes got adjusted into the gloom and the image of ghastly horror made imprints into their brains.
The defenders of Ost Guruth stared with disgust and horror. What they saw was a handful of naked, bloated, half-rotten walking corpses crawling on the ground, grey-white, gangrenous flesh cracking and peeling off from their bones. The creatures made abominable smacking noises that resembled a pack of wargs on a carcass. And then they saw the dead bodies beneath the undead ones.
The wights were feasting.
Eriac made a sign, and the archers nocked their bows. Another sign, and the arrows were loosed. The wights emanated bone-chilling screeches and wails and scampered off into the red gloom deeper into the chasm.
Eriac said in a husky voice: ”Hallam! Stay put. You and your team will guard the entrance. The archers cover the gulley, the pikemen keep their eyes out for anyone who might be coming from the other way.”
”All right, sire.”
”Swetstan!”
”Yes, sire.”
”You will come with me and Hellrien.”
”All right, sire.”
Slowly they made their way over to the corpses. There were three of them, lying partially on top of each other.
Eriac stopped in front of them. Only a few rags here and there remained of their clothes and armor. The wights had gnawed them partially to the bone, but still Hellrien could see clearly that their heads had not been ripped or clawed off. They had been cut off with a sharp knife or a sword.
”Is it them?” Hellrien asked quietly. ”The team that went missing?”
Hellrien stepped by Eriac’s side in front of the corpses. The Eglain warrior pointed the tip of his boot towards a bootprint in the sand, almost entirely covered by one of the cadavers.
Hellrien could see half of the footprint. It looked small, and she could clearly see the imprint of a high heel – it was not a Créoth boot. Hellrien moved the corpse carefully, revealing the whole footprint. There was no doubt of it – it was the same track she had seen before.
”Is this what you’re looking for, Hellrien?” Eriac asked.
”Yes. It’s exactly the same imprint.”
”This has happened three days ago. Hellrien and Swetstan, grab a hold of the corpses. We’re taking them home.”
Hellrien wasn’t too fond of the idea of dragging the wretched remains of the corpses out of the gulley. It was not that she was squeamish, she had seen and done worse things, but she would have preferred to have her hands free when she knew that the wights were still out there, somewhere beyond that red fog. Watching them. But she knew how important it was to the Eglain to get the bodies of their fallen back to Ost Guruth in order to give them a proper burial, so their souls would have peace and they wouldn’t come back as wights, so she didn’t say a word of protest.
They managed to drag the corpses back to the mouth of the gulley where the rest of their team was waiting for them. Three defenders of Ost Guruth were charged with carrying the corpses.
”We will return to Barad Dhorn now”, said Eriac. ”Hellrien will take the front. I will walk in the rear. Is that clear?”
The defenders of Ost Guruth nodded.
Hellrien said quietly: ”This woman you mentioned, Arienh… does she reside somewhere in Garth Agarwen now?”
”I would suppose so. She practically lives there for long stretches of time, along with her brother, Fréagyr, and another man called Hartrím, of whom I don’t know much about. They trade with the Créoth – food and other necessities in exchange for relics from the ancient Rhudaur and whatever information they can glean from them. These three are the only ones I know who the Créoth allow passage to the outer gates of Garth Agarwen – the only undevoted ones, I mean. There are Eglain who have devoted themselves into the cult of the Red Maiden too. But you never hear from them again after they have walked through the gates.”
”Can you trust them?”
”Do you mean – will they tell us everything they learn about the Créoth and their plans and movements? Will the information they provide us with be accurate?” Eriac hesitated. ”I don’t know. I hope so.”
Hellrien didn’t say anything else. The wind kept rising and the red mist thickened, sequestering the small band of warriors. They were the only warm and living things in this big marsh of corrupt evil and living death.
