Two days the party rested, waiting for his spine to recover.
It would've been easier to just die, but everyone was insistent on him retaining what little sanity he had left.
Wiliam took his flask, and the young father held it within the altar's flame, refilling it to the brim.
For a moment he didn't believe it, but his vision wasn't betraying him; the Embers appeared taller, Arthur in particular. The spearman was grateful, excited with a familiar look of battle lust in the eyes.
"Starting to understand your obsession," Arthur said, sharpening his spear. "Might consider tagging along after we put down the First Sword."
"Can't be afraid to die," he said. "Done it too many times already."
Arthur frowned. "There won't be any seconds chances against Lady Quarrath. Besides, are you a masochist?"
"A what?"
"Someone who gets off on pain."
"Why would I get on it in the first place?"
Al and Dany held in laughter, and he cursed beneath his breath.
Arthur waved a hand. "Forget it. Point is, you don't have to get yourself killed at every convenience."
"We'd not been in this square if we didn't," he argued.
"We needed to, but you're too quick going for death's doorstep."
"A little bit of rest and I'm back up at full strength. Not wasting any more time than I need to."
Arthur was silent for a moment, then nodded. "I suppose I can't understand, recalling bits and pieces of yourself."
The spearmen stayed by the fire for a while, warming his spear and short sword.
Dany sat beside him, keeping her voice down as the others rested.
"I saw something, the first night we rested here," she said, growing a small grin.
"What?"
"I…I had a dog. It was small, but he was adorable. He was like a child to me."
"Then what?"
She shook her head. "Nothing. I was in a small house with white walls, but that's all there was."
"Of course," he muttered.
"What about you? What did you see?"
What would he really tell her?
Neither of them had much of a clue what their old world was like. It did little to share, in his mind, as his memories were his alone, but she was eager enough to share hers.
"Burials," he explained. "Three holes, three caskets. Thin fiery sticks erupting towards the sky. A lot of folk in black crying. Some wore colorful uniforms."
Dany gave a concerned look, then touched his shoulder. "I'll pray for you. It sounds like you may have lost someone close to you."
"How to ya' figure?" he asked.
She didn't answer, growing a bit flustered.
"Those were rifles," Al said, turning towards them.
"Rifles?" He wondered.
She nodded. "You were at a memorial service for soldiers."
"Aye," he said, rubbing his head. "Makes sense."
Al looked at him, concern in her eyes more than Dany. "It'd certainly explain your persistence, among other things."
"Like what?" He asked, almost demanding.
She sat up, looking as if she were seeing a ghost. "Many soldiers don't return from war without some sort of hardship. Some hold it in better than others, but, it's something they often hold alone."
"So I was mad even before I woke up in the swamps," he decided.
Al shook her head. "Not mad, hurt. Soldiers often fight wars for the wrong reasons, especially where we're from. You were a human being, conditioned to see and do things no human being should have to see."
"At least I was still alive," he said, the three graves in his mind. "That's more than some can say."
"Maybe," Al said, facing the fire. "I worked with a number of soldiers. Some were better off than others. None of them deserved the way they were treated, like some kind of wild animal people were expecting to lash out."
"So a kingdom turns its back on its soldiers," he said, looking at a sleeping Nathan.
"It's unfortunate," Al said, grasping his hand, "and you're not the only ones either. So many people couldn't fight for themselves, and I made it my life's work. At least for a short while."
They were silent for the rest of the night.
A few caws echoed from the northern side of the wall at dawn, though they were rejuvenators as Al and Arthur explained.
"We found a way into the palace," Arthur said, readying his spear, "but it's dark. It reeks of rot and blood."
Al sighed, "We saw a few for ourselves. They're not alone, and whoever it is it'll take all of us to fight through."
"What'd they look like?" He asked.
Nathan's face was blank, though the lad shuddered.
Arthur replied. "Dead. Pale as the moon, with red swollen eyes and hardly any skin on their bones."
While stroking his beard, he insisted they make for the whole in wall made by the beasts.
"Without those mutts stomping around should be an easier way inside."
Arthur was curious to see what the other side of the wall had to offer.
Though Dany was determined to rescue the rejuvenators. She suggested cutting off even a small part of vampyre livestock would help them in future encounters, and they were more likely to get closer to She of the First Sword.
"I don't know for certain," she said, tugging her bowstring, "but it would make sense. The sooner we slay her, the sooner we can free these poor folk."
They left it up to him.
He'd not seen the other side of the wall, though the mutts put he and Dany through too much trouble, and he needed to see what it was worth. One way in versus another didn't matter, as all roads would lead to the First Sword.
"We'll make for the tunnels from inside the palace," he said, making his way south. "A flail doesn't do so well in tight spaces anyway."
Reluctant, mostly Al, the Embers followed his lead.
He waved to Nathan, and the lad was wide eyed, hurrying to join the party.
William whispered prayers, and the altar's fire rose.
They walked with a sudden jolt in their step, Eldreth's great walls within their sight.