Penitent

The first leg of their journey back up through Swandia was a simple one. Gemini had several wagons and donkeys for travelling long distances and the roads were all safe for a group of armed mercenaries. They did get a number of concerned looks from regular merchants and travelers as well as the occasional question by groups of Swandian soldiers travelling the same roads, but after a quick conversation they were sent on their way with no issues.

As they began to get closer to the border with Cantalia, the terrain grew more treacherous. They seemed to be far below sea level in an area where all of the runoff from the mountains in the East seemed to collect. That combined with the cooling temperatures as they headed north led to what Michael could only describe as a cold swamp. It was muddy, misty, and miserable. The roads were all built of raised stone and relatively well maintained, but camping on the soft boggy mud on the edges of stagnant pools of water was a special kind of unpleasant.

The only thing that made up for it was the amount of colorful plant and animal life. There were curious lemur-like creatures that frequently tried to steal their food, a number of iridescent beetles with antler-like horns, and flowers that gave off a kind of beautiful sickly sweet stench that Michael was certain meant they'd kill him if he ingested them. It didn't quite make up for waking up a foot deep in mud nearly dragging your tent into the earth with you, but it helped.

The border between the two countries was carefully marked by crossing stations on either side. The Swandian one was manned by a number of men wearing the Ochre coloring of their military. They seemed very well armed and armored, though he also noticed a few of them chatting casually with, who he guessed, were Cantalian soldiers at the other station.

The Cantalian soldiers were wearing segmented breastplates, light metal caps, and very high boots, most of which were stained nearly to the top with mud. In general they were armored more lightly than the soldiers Michael had seen in other countries, though that may have been just how they dressed at this particular outpost, or it may even be that most of their more heavily armed soldiers were at the northern border already. He watched them a bit more as Lys spoke with each of the border outpost representatives and realized that every single one of them had a set of small leather flasks buckled at their waist as well as a large pouch at their waist.

"What's with the flasks?" asked Marcus, beating him to it.

Devahn looked over. "Oh those? Filled with goblin piss. They love the taste."

"They're different alchemical draughts," said Clara punching Devahn lightly on the arm. His wince told Michael that her rings hurt quite a bit. "Cantalia has more herbalists and alchemists than anywhere else. It's what they're known for."

Michael nodded. It made sense given the large number of unique plants he'd seen as they approached the border. If the trend continued throughout all of Cantalia then it was the most biodiverse place he'd ever been since he'd arrived.

"What can an alchemist actually do?" asked Pyotr. "Ours just gave us the aging shots and strength draughts. Painkillers sometimes, though with Michael around we didn't really need them."

"Well to start they can age a person with the right materials and strengthen their bodies," said Devahn.

Clara punched him again. "You don't need to make fun of people trying to learn new things." She turned back to the rest of them. "They can speed healing, fight infection, cause pleasant feelings, help you sleep, and help with most diseases. That's the kind of thing just about any alchemist can do. On the higher end I've heard of potions that can kill a man's fear, increase their strength ten times what's normal for a short time, make a person appear dead for several days without consequence, or even lotions that can make one impervious to flame, or give one hardened scales. That's not even mentioning the poisons."

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

"Kind of makes it sound like Crim was shit at her job," said Ollie.

"She was shit at her job for other reasons," remarked Davi. "Incompetence is lesser to maliciousness."

"Just as damaging though," said Pyotr.

"Hopefully she's dead," remarked Marcus darkly.

"If she was in Stent she may be," said Devahn. "Last I heard they got pushed back hard from Tusinia and a lot of their rank and file are making problems."

Michael nodded. That wasn't a surprise based on what they'd left behind. He remembered Bayle talking about how the castle they'd taken would likely be lost and every single stage of the war seemed to be being mismanaged in one way or another. He hadn't thought about it much while he was in the midst of trying to survive and help who he could, but it was clear that the nobility was overly empowered and the war effort as a whole was held back by their lack of meritocracy. He thought for a moment about the takers still there. He wondered if any of them were still alive. He said a quick prayer for them either way.

They made it through the border and continued their march through the marsh. The road on this side was maintained as well as the swandian side, but frequently transitioned from stone to wide stilted bridges of wood that allowed them to cross over the many patches of water without difficulty.

It was nightfall when they reached a town. It was built on a slightly higher-up patch of land surrounded by a five foot high sea wall that must've kept it from flooding during the rainy season. The buildings were a kind of soft yellow supported by wood from the nearby trees. There were a number of lights that illuminated the streets with a soft blue glow that drew legions of moths towards them. People were milling about in the streets, mostly wearing clothes dyed in bright colors that reminded Michael of all of the flowers he'd seen, and he guessed were likely dyed by those same flowers. He also noticed a number of merchants from Swandia speaking to locals and haggling wherever they could. It seemed like the two countries had a good relationship, or at least their people did.

They camped in the town in an open area that had no buildings and seemed to normally be used for their own travelling soldiers so they would have a place to camp. There were inns in town, but with all of the merchants already filling them there wasn't enough room for even those mercenaries willing to spend the coin.

That night Michael dreamt of tipping scales and powerful blows alongside the whispers of voices he didn't recognize, but when he awoke he was unable to grasp his memories of them, feeling them slip through his mind like smoke between fingers.

They continued their march to the north. It took nearly a week to make it to their destination and crossing a country on foot wasn't exactly easy. Still, all of them were mostly trained soldiers and on top of the marching a number of them would train at the end of the day as well. Trina's conditioning had greatly improved and now she could heal more serious injuries without being completely drained of energy. Michael would do his morning exercises before everyone woke up, then he would spar in the evening with anyone who was up to stretching their muscles after a long day.

Pyotr regularly joined him, though he'd started to spend more of his time practicing magic now that he'd reached the point where he could cast larger spells. Ollie would help him as much as he could, when he wasn't distracted by working on spells of his own. Davi spent a lot of time drawing, and seemed to be even more speculative and withdrawn than usual. Marcus of course, found trouble, seeming most interested in finding out more about alchemy whenever they were in or nearby a town or village.

When they reached the Cantalian military camp, Michael found it to be very different from what he expected. The northern part of Cantalia was far less swampy, but still green and verdant. There were large trees along which the Cantalians would tie tarps to create large open areas under which they could work, plan, and sleep. There was little privacy in the camp, with their men, and even a number of women openly changing or bathing under the tarps. He was concerned about insects for a moment, but quickly realized that there didn't seem to be any in the camp at all. There were also no horses he realized. He'd seen a few between the cities, usually ridden by couriers, but to not have any calvary seemed crazy to him. Then again he could imagine that a lot of places there were impassable with cavalry anyway. How many people had experienced an Artax moment trying to invade Cantalia?

Michael moved over to where the Twins, Lys, and Suraj were talking to the local commander who seemed to have no clear marks that showed his rank.

Suraj looked at him with a raised eyebrow." Your friends warned me about this. Here to ask where the infirmary is?" asked Suraj.

Michael smiled. "Good guess."