625. Walking on Water (Patreon)

They went as far into the marshes as they could before nightfall and slept a third, miserable night among the cold and damp. Keeping watch, Martel had time to consider their new strategy. At a glance, going to Khiva seemed ridiculous; they had barely been able to flee their last incursion, and this time, they would be going alone with no route to safety if discovered.

But they would only be two people, not two cohorts. The Khivans would not expect Asterians this far north of Esmouth. The Tenth did not patrol such a distance from camp, and since the Asterians could cross the river on the bridge by the delta, the Khivans had no reason to keep strong watch of this area or suspect two wizards might intend to cross much further north.

Of course, that limited them to a rather small area. They could not go south, or they would run into the Tenth. Any other direction promised only Khivans. But Martel would take any manner of safe harbour, however small. One night of sleep without fear – he would pay all the gold he just plundered to get that.

Next morning, as they began their march, Martel wondered how to best broach the subject. He figured he should mention it before they actually reached the river. "So, I'm not sure if I ever told you, but I can't swim."

"I know. You said so when we took the trip to the Stone of Archen."

Martel stared at her as she walked in front of him. "You remember that? Stars, that was an age ago."

"We were all quite different back then."

"Yeah. So…"

"We shall take one of the rafts left behind from our last crossing."

One reason Martel enjoyed travelling with Eleanor; she thought ahead, solving problems before they even arose. "Great."

***

The legionaries returned. In lieu of inquisitors, they brought more men. An entire cohort's worth, it seemed. More than they could fight. Without his armour, Martel was far too vulnerable in a prolonged engagement; sooner or later, an attack would land. Nor did he have spells or spellpower to deal with this many enemies. Even the magic he had unleashed upon the Khivans at the riverbank would not suffice; not that he knew how to cast such a spell on purpose, nor how to avoid Eleanor being immolated with the rest.

"Pick up the pace!" she yelled at him, and he hurried along after her. Behind them, the legionaries followed suit.

***

They ran along the trails. Their knowledge of the marshes helped them determine the safe route, but it also helped the legionaries, who could follow in their tracks. Furthermore, avoiding deeper water forced them along winding paths, at times placing them within range of javelins from the soldiers, moving in different columns in an attempt to encircle them.

Martel raised his wall of flames behind them, blocking off a pathway. The legionaries could go around it, but stepping into waist-deep water would slow them down. They were still some distance from the river, though. It lay directly east of them, but the land was particularly flat and flooded here. If only they could cut through… An idea came to Martel.

"Eleanor! Stop!"

She did so immediately, but with an angry expression. "We have to keep going!"

"Follow me!" He turned towards the body of water that blocked the closest route to the shore.

"We can't –" She cut off her own sentence seeing what he did.

Holding out his hand, Martel drained the heat from a small area of water. It was a difficult task, especially keeping the effect contained, but the sound of boots stomping towards them helped him focus. Once the water had frozen solid, he stepped onto it and began freezing another spot.

In this manner, he created one steppingstone after the other. Getting the hang of it, he began jumping and freezing the water while still in the air, turning it to ice just as he landed. Behind him, Eleanor followed. Within moments, they had crossed what would have otherwise taken minutes.

They both looked back at the approaching legionaries. A centurion hesitated before jumping onto the patch of ice. Martel did not have to do anything; the water was warm and his spellwork limited, and the ice was already melting. With a curse, the centurion fell through, and two soldiers waded into the water to help him regain his balance.

Laughing, more out of relief than from the sight, the two mages continued, taking the most direct path to the river.

***

As they found a raft and pushed it into the water, Eleanor looked up at him. "I have said this before, but you are useful."

Martel grabbed two of the poles lying on the ground, and they climbed aboard. "And yet you still sound surprised."

"I have a short memory."

They both used a pole to push against the ground, giving them momentum into the river. The current pushed them downriver, but Eleanor's empowered strength corrected their course.

In the distance, they saw the legionaries approach. They had nearly reached the other shore when the first soldier took a step into the water and launched his javelin. Martel looked up and used a gust of wind to push it aside, and it landed far from them. A few more spears followed with the same success. Moments later, their raft pushed against land, and they jumped ashore into Khiva.

"You think they will try to pursue?" Eleanor asked. More rafts lay on the Asterian side, and Martel regretted that he had not destroyed them; he had been too anxious to make their escape.

"Well, if so, I'll be happy to set their raft aflame once they're in the middle of the river."

The legionaries pulled back. "It would seem they are smarter than that."

Martel turned towards the forest. He knew that nearby lay the small clearing where they had fought desperately and nearly died, all to flee this place. Now they had returned, just the two of them. "Let's get away." He made sure to steer deeper into the forest, avoiding any chance that they walked past the place where he had watched the life bleed from Eleanor.

~

Martel's character sheet (no change).