Chapter 32 - What’s the point?

When we finally caught up with the rest of the tribe we were even more ragged and worn out. It had been another couple of weeks, Kril and Hatrikilo had become increasingly surly and waspish as the time dragged by. The fragile mood had filtered down to my now highly competent warriors and the banter had fallen by the way side a few days ago. Conversations had become abrupt and efficient with little fun or optimism.

We had crested a hill and I’d stopped dead in my tracks as I saw the new camp. Where before there had been maybe sixty wagons and two hundred and fifty yurts I now saw a couple of hundred wagons arranged in a much larger circle and I couldn’t count the tents occupying the enclosed space.

“See them?” asked Hatrikilo, pointing at three wagons outside the encampment. “One of those is ours. Thank Aresk the traders haven’t left yet!”

“Agreed. We need to get down there before Hakubin can send them off. The bastard must have moved south just a couple of days after we went north,” added Kril.

“How are there so many of them?” I asked in wonder.

“Areskit was a central camp. That wasn’t all our people,” offered Hatrikilo. “How many did you think we numbered?” he asked.

“Four, maybe five hundred including women and children,” I replied.

“Hah! There’s thousands of us. Half my family was out in the more remote grazing lands. Did you think that was all we had?”

“The warriors who came with us? I assumed it was a sizable fraction of your family's adult men,” I said honestly. I hadn’t imagined there could be so many of these people.

“Hardly,” Hatrikilo grunted.

“Here,” Kril said, as he passed me a length of cloth. “Bind the mark again. You can’t go flashing that about until we’re ready.” I began winding the cloth around my upper left arm to hide the tattoo I’d received from Aresk.

“Won’t the others talk? What’s the point?” I said as I worked.

“They won’t tell a soul. They’re your men now,” said Hatrikilo with a trace of annoyance.

“I need to talk to my apprentice,” said Kril, dragging me away from the old fighter. Hatrikilo scowled but turned to call the flankers in, as far as I could I could tell from his tone and staccato orders he was anticipating some friction as we approached the main tribe.

“How many?” Kril demanded with a grin. I knew what he meant.

“Souls? Five hundred and fifteen. I need most of them for smithing equipment,” I replied. The last days of travel had been increasingly profitable.

“No you don’t. The traders haven’t left. You’ll be going along with the Hatrik wagon so you can spend them now. You’ll need all the power you can get and I want better stones!” Kril grinned at me.

“I haven’t thought about it much, I’ve been saving them up. If we can get access to proper smiths it would be better. I can’t enchant Shop bought items.”

“Oh you haven’t thought about it much!” Kril mocked. “Boy, you’ve been scowling every chance you get except when you know Fayala is watching you. Then you try to look all heroic!” he chortled. “I’d bet you half a dozen bronze spearheads you were scowling just now because you were thinking about spending Souls rather than saving them!”

He wasn’t entirely wrong, although I was confident my expression hadn’t changed whenever hazel eyes were pointed my way. I had spent a lot of time imagining what I’d do with the bounty of the last few weeks. It felt ironic. I had to kill to gain Souls and power but I was largely doing it passively at the moment. It felt almost lazy and the professional in me was considering ways to become more active. Maybe a hunt?

“A war would net you more,” Kril chuckled as though he could read my mind. “Slit a few hundred prisoners' throats and no one will be able to stop you. I’ve seen your sort before boy. Potential, limited by circumstance. They weren’t Shikrakyn though.”

“Alright witch, get out of my mind!” I smiled at him despite my concerns about how right he had been and he cackled in response.

“Get some boosts while we walk down the welcome party,” he said. While we’d talked a group of riders had swarmed out of the camp, perhaps thirty of them and they were galloping towards us. I didn’t have long to make my choices. The others all noticed when I spent Souls, they didn’t know exactly what it was but they sensed the change somehow, and I had no desire to draw any more attention than Kril and Trikilo had already planned for me to get.

Kril wasn’t wrong and it didn’t take me long to spend a chunk of Souls.

Level 35

Primary Stats: Body: D- Mind: D- Soul: F

Available Souls: 75

Secondary Stats

Physical strength: 20 Reflexes: 20 Health: 150

Magic strength: 20 Focus: 13 Mana: 250

Affinity: Fire

Summon fire: Range- 5 metres, Intensity- +6%

Fire Resistance- +2%

Projectile: Speed- +3%, Detonation- 1.5 metres cubed +0%.

Fire Wall: Area- 3 metres squared. Lasts 10 seconds

Barrier: 20 HP

Fire Spirit: duration 10 seconds

Affinity: Life

Heal (self): 15HP and 48% increased recovery rate for one hour. Seals moderate wounds.

Enhancement (self): 26%,

Resistance (all): 1%

Projectile: Speed- +3%, (heal other)

Rapid Growth: Area- 1 metre squared.

Projectile: Speed- +3% (Enhance Other).

Shapeshift (Minor): Duration- 10 seconds

Affinity: Space

Size: range- Touch, Intensity- 14%

Mass: range- Touch, Intensity- 14%

Area: 1m cubed (optional). Lasts 10 seconds

Resistance: 2%

Pocket Dimension: 0.5m cubed

Spatial tear: 1m range

I put seven stat points into magical strength and was pleased to notice that the health points per cast on Heal grew to fifteen and the duration of my other abilities had increased to ten seconds. I was now officially rated as a D class entity, bar the Soul stat that appeared to operate more like a credit rating than a meaningful measure of my power. It would be useful to know if one of my opponents had a large reserve of Souls they could spend to buy more power or items if I gave them the chance, not that I would give them the opportunity when the time came.

A wealth of new opportunities had opened up. Would my Enhance Other spell stack with someone using a trinket to Enhance themselves? Could I stack trinkets to massively boost my own strength? I probably should have considered that possibility before now. The barrier and summon fire spirit spells from the Fire tree were both interesting. They were each forty mana when I checked, the mana cost was becoming annoying. More teeth and stones would be needed in my near future as well.

That and the time needed to recover my mana were now my major limiting factors. I had not imagined I would spend my time setting traps to kill rabbits to level and then waiting impatiently for my mana to recover when I arrived in this world. When that bitch had stuck the green knife in my heart I hadn’t had terribly high expectations for my future but this was not what had flashed through my brain.

The new spells in the Life and Space trees were interesting but I didn’t have time to experiment. I had seventy five Souls held in reserve and a gaggle of cavalry charging my position to stop me from playing around. I drew myself up as Kril and I moved back to the rest of the group and we waited for thirty seconds or so as the gallopers closed in on us. I fought down my disappointment that the shapeshift spell had such a short duration. Increasing it was expensive in Souls but I could boost it up to something vaguely useful in due course. Fucking magic.

Watching cavalry rush towards you is unnerving, even if it’s only twenty odd riders. Even if they are only what we would consider light cavalry on ponies back on Earth. The mass of the animals and the levelled spears can’t help but weaken even the strongest bowels. We had come together and the riders streamed around us a couple of times before they came to halt in a line between us and the camp.

“Name!” called a rider from the centre of the pack.

“You know us Jetklan. Don’t be an ass. Hatrikilo, brother of Hatrikhan. We are back from our hunt,” called the big man. Without orders two of the riders peeled away and rushed back to the camp.

“You failed then?” sneered the captain who had spoken before.

“Hardly!” said Jandak cheerfully as he pulled the line of aurox forwards and led them to the side so the tusks were visible.

“The King will greet you as you approach. Aresk must have blessed you,” the captain called as he wheeled his pony around and the horsemen moved quickly back to the camp.

“Was that a threat?” I asked.

“Yep. Don’t worry, Hermune has already slipped into the camp so when Hakubin rides out the Herm and Hatrik clans will be following him,” Kril grinned at the thought of humiliating his nephew.

“How the hell did he get in there already?” I wondered as the camp stirred to action like a beehive hit by a stone as the pair of riders vanished inside.

“He was leading the way today. They all had orders to get inside and reach out to our friends as soon as they saw the camp,” said Hatrikilo.

As we tramped tiredly down the slope to reach the camp Kril gestured for me to stay in the midst of our little party so I dropped back. I ended up walking beside Fayala who shot me a worried look before locking her face into a stoic expression.

Another group left the camp, more riders and a gaggle of infantry, plus what appeared to be a royal party in the centre. The bright red tunics marked out the three members of the “royal” family that I was aware of. Behind them, and apparently much to their displeasure a larger group of infantry, perhaps civilians but none of the men of the tribe were incapable of fighting, spilled out of the palisade and followed in their wake. The main group kept turning and sending members back to yell and wave their arms at their tails who cheerfully ignored the orders to return to the camp.

The riders spread out once more to partially surround us. With the tricks our fighters had available, let alone the firewall stones I could see Kril juggling to one side, I was confident even if they attacked we’d be the victors. I had faded into the background, as far as possible, to stand at the rear but I was tense and ready to pass through my friends and take the lead formation singlehandedly. Friends. It felt uncomfortable but the word rang true in my mind when I considered my travelling companions. So many weeks on the road together had forged us into something approaching a family.

The bright red tunics moved through the footmen as the riders spread out to completely encircle us. I was tense as I watched the ponies moving to our rear and they passed out of my peripheral vision.

“Hail Uncle! Hail Hatrikilo! You return triumphant!” called Hakubin as he closed the distance, half a dozen warriors escorting him.

“Nephew! Aresk has truly blessed us! Six tusks to take to the traders!” Kril answered smugly as he stepped forward.

“You lost a third of your aurox, uncle. Most careless!” Hakubin smirked as he embraced Kril, Hatrikilo was standing just behind Kril and I was now familiar enough with the man to see the hidden tension in his stance. Violence was a real possibility in the next few seconds.

As Hakubin stepped back I watched Hatrikilo’s back relax slightly and I breathed out slowly, releasing my own tension a little. I hadn’t even noticed it building up.

“Not lost, my noble King! Sacrificed to lead the Ur-Vile retribution away from our summer pastures!” Kril announced loudly. Hakubin’s warriors either flinched or snorted. I noted the ones that flinched and tried to fix their faces in my memory. Those were the more intelligent members of Hakubins followers.

“The Ur-Viles?” asked Hakubin sharply.

“Jandak! Bring the trophy!” called Kril happily. Jandak must have been expecting the request as he quickly freed the thick leather sack and heaved it over to the meeting. As he arrived he spilled the contents out at Hakubin’s feet.

A partially dehydrated, partially rotten head of a giant rolled out and Hakubin danced backwards with a retching sound. His hand flew to his mouth and he turned away. Hakuban ran forwards, escaping the hand of his mother and kicked at the evidence of decapitation.

“I want it mounted on a spear outside my wagon!” the boy announced before his mother could move forward and drag him away from my grisly trophy.

“You slew one of the giants?” demanded Hakubin as he turned back. All the fake warmth was gone from his voice. “And you came back to the tribe?” he finished in a snarl.

“Of course, cousin,” said Hatrikilo. “We’ve nothing to fear from the Ur-Viles while the Vileslayer is among us.”

“And who the fuck brought this doom down on our people? Which of you you inbred horse fuckers managed to kill a giant and why didn’t you walk alone into the north to spare the rest of us?” Hakubin demanded. Kril turned to me with a grin and I desperately wished to be anywhere other than where I was. Fayala moved backwards and bowed her head slightly. In the process she somehow shoved me forward and I stumbled. A hand caught one of the tusks where it was tied to an aurox and I steadied myself. I really wished I’d been briefed on this part of our return to the tribe.

A happy cry went up from the Hatrik and Herm infantry that had surrounded the royal party, making them flinch as my cheeks flushed red and I tried to work out what the hell I should say.

Hakubin saved me the trouble of stumbling through an improvised speech. As I arrived next to Hatrikilo and drew myself up to my full height the king scowled then burst into laughter.

“Jetan! Kill this slave for me! We can leave his corpse on the plains for the giants to find,” he called and the widest member of the tribe I’d yet seen stepped forwards. He was almost as broad as he was tall and his arms were thick with muscle.

“Jetan is Jetyk’s brother?” I quietly asked Hatrikilo who nodded. “He’s as much of a dick?” Another nod. Well that settled my conscience at least. The deceptively squat man wore a tunic adorned with small squares of bronze that shimmered as he threw his cloak back off his shoulders. A spear swept around and in the process the leather covering on the blade flew to one side, revealing the burnished orange head to the weapon. “Do I get to keep his shit if I win?” I finished.

“Only if he’s dead,” Hatrikilo replied, stepping to the side to give me space.

Jetan spun the spear up onto his shoulder and in a fluid motion hurled it at my face.