he woke at dawn and prayed in private behind the merchant’s wagon. The hot springs had filled the encampment with a heavy humid fog and the red sun shone through it, suffusing everything with a rosy glow. She finished and returned to where Kouric was still asleep, She noted how peaceful his face looked, but also how much older and worn it was then the time when she had known him.

Isida remembered as a child when Jael and his clan had lived near her little temple north of the wall. Maybe two decades ago. Kouric had been a young man then, a cheerful and handsome foil to the dour manner of his master. He had been Jael’s clear favorite, running errands, training the children or simply giving piggy back rides and entertaining them when the master was away. She remembered riding him a few times; he could run so fast and the more she shrieked the more he had laughed, but he never let her fall. Isida allowed herself a wide smile at the memory. Such a sweet, gentle man he had been.

She wondered at the transformation of Kouric to this cynical loner. He should be a master in his own right, as famous and beloved as Jael had been among the rangers that had remained in Ascalon. An answer to the puzzle was likely in the scars that adorned his arms and chest. He had turned in his sleep and she could see poorly healed wounds pale on his tawny flesh. He was also very thin, the bones of his chest and ribs clearly visible as he breathed.

Where had be been all those years? One day Jael had sent him on an errand and he had simply not returned. No word of him, and even Kouric’s young bride knew not where he went. A year later a message for young Lani telling her that the troth was broken and he was not coming back. An impersonal divorce by letter; the little community had been aghast at such a thing and even Jael was heard to be disappointed.

Kouric stretched and yawned, opening his eyes to stare back at her. He drew his cloak over his chest and grunted a few unpleasant words. Isida frowned at him.

“Are we going before noon?”

“Yes, but its very early.” Kouric curled up again in his cloak, pulling his hat over his head to keep off the unwelcome sunlight. “We have plenty of time.”

“I’d rather move on.”

“I’d rather sleep.”

“So why did you divorce Lani?”

“Because I broke the vow.” He replied without a hint of rankor.

“You could have repented of it. You didn’t need to hurt her.”

“She remarried. Last I heard she was alright.”

“Did you leave because of her?”

“Oh no. Nothing was ever her fault.”

“So was it someone we knew?”

“No.” Kouric swept off the hat and tossed it aside, sitting up. He let the cloak drop around his hips so he sat bare-chested before her. “Does it matter? The searing killed just about everyone we knew.”

“Did it kill the person you…?”

“Oh no, I imagine she’s just fine.”

“Lani was very sad, Kouric.”

“Yes, she loved me. I came back a few years later in secret. I thought she might forgive me. I was wrong. Though she found a better love than me, she never forgave me. She broke my nose.” Kouric chuckled. “Gods did I deserve that.”

“So did you get the scars before or after that?”

“Before. Do you want to know what happened?”

“Of course I do.”

“Alright, let us get ready to go, and I will tell it while we walk.”

She watched him stalk away to go bathe in the hot pools. Isida noted more scars on his back as he knelt to slide into the water. They looked like scratches of some great beast. Kouric splashed for a moment and then swam a couple of slow lazy lengths of the pool. After a short time, he crawled back out, dried off and started putting on his clothes and armor. It was obviously a ritual of his, because she might have been invisible for all he cared what she saw.

As a healer she was hardly embarrassed by any of his behavior; one body after you overlooked slight differences, looked much like another. She noticed fresh bruises on his legs along with a nasty wound that looked infected. He fetched a jug near the wagon and took a couple of long swigs before pulling a stale loaf of bread out of his pack and chewing on it. She could smell beer.

Feeling mildly irritated with him, she opened her own pack and ate some of her meager supply of dry biscuits and fruit. She sipped water and put her bedding away just as Kouric appeared to be finished with his breakfast, such as it was.

“Why are you bruised?”

“Kid wouldn’t pay my fee. I asked nicely and then he kicked me and hit me with his sword…so I ran away.” Kouric replied. “Customers get that way sometimes.”

“That’s awful.”

Kouric met her eyes darkly and shrugged. “It’s my life.”

“You drink like that every morning?”

“Not always. I find it keeps me calm. I don’t generally like getting up. It makes it more bearable.” Kouric leaned on his old yew bow towards her. “Are we going, or are you going to tell me about the risks of demon ale?”

“Let’s go.” She shook her head. “You are just trying to annoy me now.”

“Yes. Well I take my pleasures where I can.”

“What is your fee?”

“Two hundred gold.”

“That’s it? Isn’t it a whole day’s journey? With undead?”

He gave her another one of his blank expressions and looked away. She thought he would defend himself, but he walked on ahead of her through the drowsily awakening encampment. As they approached the gate a large warrior blocked their way. Kouric backed away and she saw the quiver of his legs as he prepared to spring away.

“Oh it’s you.” The warrior sneered. “You ran off before I could get what I wanted.”

“I am not giving you anything. As it was, you did not pay me for my services.”

“This is my patch and I am the guide here now. You can leave, or you can give me a bit of your fee and I’ll ignore you. However, I won’t have you undercutting me without some kind of compensation. It’s Kouric, isn’t it? I’m Beken.”

“This has always been my route. You can go to hell.” Kouric snarled. “Get out of my village.”

“These people like you at all? Yesterday when you were getting drunk they dragged you over to sleep it off at the wagon. They weren’t happy.”

“I’ve protected them before.”

“When you aren’t passed out. I can do better.” The warrior shrugged. “Give me forty gold now.”

“No.”

The warrior drew a long curved blade. A few people talking nearby became silent to watch the potential brawl with interest. Isida watched the confrontation anxiously; she could probably keep Kouric healed, but she did not want to fight off a warrior as well. She could see Kouric was still shaking; he finally dropped his head and reached down to his pouch. The warrior prodded his chest with the end of his sword.

“Good, I am glad you see some sense. How many of your marks actually pay you?”

Kouric counted gold coins into Beken’s outstretched hand. “About half of them.”

“You are weak. Alright, so twenty percent of your fee is mine now. Make sure they pay and if they don’t, tell me and I will hit them.” The warrior made a threatening gesture to underline his willingness to enforce. “What’s in the box?”

“A bow.”

“Heh. If it’s as cheap as the one you are carrying, you can keep it.”

Kouric nodded somberly. Beken sheathed his sword, snapped out a gauntleted hand and cuffed the ranger hard across the head. A sharp edge cut his cheek. “Don’t say no to me again, or I will hurt you. Show me any disrespect and I will gut you.”

“Yes.”

“Good boy. Here I was thinking you were a bit tougher and I would have to break you.” Beken chuckled. “Alright, I am going with you two to the temple. I think I got it down, but another run would be good. Seems easy.”

“It is easy.” Kouric said. “Makes me wonder why you don’t try a harder location and leave this to me?”

“Because I hate you Kouric.”

“Why?”

“Because I lost a fortune all for a girl named Dale. My friend has gone missing, my guild is in ruins, and I have no home. I bring it back to that girl, full of witchery and she was headed to you and you were with her. Maybe you even know where she is…there is money that the Twistwood would give.”

“I don’t know where she is. Last I heard she was in Lion’s Arch harbor. Probably the shark ate her.” Kouric shrugged. “Or she is elsewhere, it’s been weeks since I laid eyes on her…and good riddance, you could tell she was trouble; too pretty to be a good thing.”

“Beautiful, but Galyew insisted on keeping her unspoiled…or I would have had her.”

“Kind of him.” Kouric responded with barely concealed disgust. Isida was relieved when the two men walked ahead and did not come to blows; Kouric’s fists were clenched. They walked along a grassy trail and the warrior fell behind the ranger and was blessedly silent. They moved for maybe an hour, with Kouric skillfully leading them past the undead sentries that roamed the countryside.

The path darkened and more pools of stale water surrounded them. Kouric paused more often, listening and watching. Insects bloated with blood hovered and bit them. She killed what seemed dozens, but the cloud remained persistent in its attack. Periodically disembodied riders or packs of ghouls would march past them. Isida found herself growing increasingly fearful as they waded through the muck beneath the gnarled trees. She saw glimpses of corpses bound in rotting boats. Totems made of bone and wood grinned from dark niches within the water. It was an evil place, made more menacing by the tension between the two men. Not only that, but she was convinced they were being followed.

At around midday she had seen a shred of cloth whisk into the shadows of a stony passage they had traversed to reach the swamp. She had thought perhaps it was a zombie, but it movements were so fast that she decided it was a person. She dreaded to think about the type of person who would wander this stinking wasteland alone. She was now waist deep in mucky water, Kouric walked ahead of her, holding the rosewood box over his head as they moved.

“Alright, if you are keeping it dry, it must be valuable. Show me the bow when we get on dry land.” Beken barked from behind them; his heavy black armor was causing him to move slowly through the muck. Kouric loped up a dry hillock and set the case down. Isida came and sat beside him, pulling off her worn shoes to drain the mud out of them. She could see Kouric stringing the little bow. As he took the string she saw a droplet of blood seep down and drip on the dark earth. Kouric grinned to himself and raised the bow. Kouric whispered a harsh invocation and a fiery aura surrounded him. Isida backed away as the heat stung her face.

Beken was still struggling through the pool, cursing as the muck continued to impede him. Kouric took careful aim with the bow, invoked a second word and abruptly flame sprouted on the warrior. Isida watched as the fire spread across the water and then the warm gasses over the swamp lit with a sharp concussion. The warrior howled in agony, but the ranger reeled off shots until the figure vanished beneath the black water. Silence settled over the oily rippling pool.

Kouric lowered the bow. “What a piece of human refuse.”

“You just killed him! You….”

“He was a robber. I don’t like being robbed. No one hits me like a dog either.” Kouric broke in, turning to face her. “He was also looking for Dale. One less person against her, eh? The right thing. The bow…I believe I shall keep it.”

“Kouric, I didn’t want to mention it earlier because of the warrior…but there is someone following us.”

“Yeah I know.” The ranger shrugged, wandered down and ducked into the water and came up with a heavy purse. After a moment he also retrieved a sword belt and a heavy silver necklace. “He’s not used to the terrain and has been slipping up all day. Damn, arrows got burned.”

Kouric dropped the items at her feet and looked through them, transferring the contents of the soiled purse to his own, followed by the necklace. He drew the sword and turned it in his hand. “That’s pretty nice.”

“Are we just leaving him there?”

“Yeah its bad form…the zombies will animate him. Hopefully no one will recognize him…though I think I got him in the face.”

“Kouric! Disgusting!”

“Actually, pretty sure I did. Using broad heads and fire…don’t think anyone will know him. Honestly though, its miles to the temple, he won’t bother anyone out here. What do you suggest I do, carry him? Pull him up here so the vultures and wolves can reach? What?”

“Its just so…like…we murdered him.”

“I put him out of my misery. You watched. Thank you for not healing him by the way. He just would have suffered longer.”