Dungeon 42

Ambitions Reward

Chapter 154

Dusk was approaching when Vice Captain Lesner decided it was time to give up. Jonus hadn't signaled at any point, which meant he hadn't caught up with the demi band. So Lesner called a halt and had his men backtrack to a larger, more open area before setting up camp for the night.

The setup went smoothly enough, but the mood was subdued. They'd tried to backtrack to the entrance earlier but couldn't find it despite marking the path with chalk. Instead, they'd found themselves lost, the way twisting strangely and full of what should have been their own marks that led nowhere.

The bizarre day left everyone on edge. The most likely answer to the marks leading nowhere was that the demi-humans had been adding them. That suggested there were more than they'd anticipated, and they knew the terrain.

Lesner ordered a signal be sent up at dusk, and as the moments ticked by, everyone's unease grew. Finally, they grouped up in the middle of the space in a defensive formation, none having the heart to sleep.

It wasn't so long before that Lesner had been scorning the departing mercenaries as craven fools. Now he knew he was the fool for not stopping to think about their possible reasons. They weren't courageous, but they weren't cowards either. Bleeding a bit for their gold was normal. Their outright scorn for entering the maze should have been a warning sign.

Everything seemed so straightforward when they first entered the maze. Captain Jonus had been in a brilliant mood, and Lessner had been caught up in thoughts of his own glory. Neither of them had questioned what happened in a meaningful way. So now Lessner was left with nothing but fear and his responsibility to his men. A duty he hadn't been thinking about for a long while before the maze or even the demi hunt.

Lessner wanted to curse his impious ambitions. The Captain had never done wrong by him, but he'd wanted to advance and lead his own company. He'd thought Jonus was holding him back to keep a capable aid, but now he could only wonder. Perhaps the Captain hadn't thought he was ready yet—an idea he couldn't find a counter-argument to under the circumstances.

Though he'd been required to give up his family title when he joined the seekers, Lessner came from a baron's family. It was enough to make him noble and win him a few privileges. Unfortunately, it hadn't come with any real backing. His family hadn't had any real wealth, just the title and a decent bit of property for the ancestral estate.

Looking back on it, Lessner knew he'd been in the wrong. He should have talked to the Captain rather than looking at everything as an opportunity for personal advancement. The particular irony of it was that he'd wanted his own company so he'd be better able to serve Strom.

Thinking of his god, Lesser gave a prayer he hoped would be heard despite not knowing the right words. He also prayed for his men, though he didn't tell them. Giving them false hope of salvation felt wrong since he wasn't sure he'd be heard.

Without firewood or torches, the only light to see by was the triple moons, but the brightest of them, Obedience, was a waning crescent. Looking up at them, Lessner found a touch of peace. Obedience, Forbearance, and Purity were their proper names, no matter what heathens might insist to the contrary.

The night sky was entangled in too many lies of false gods to be considered holy, unlike the day, but the moons had a proper place in scripture. They were the virtues that were the pillars of the faith of Strom. Purity was the most important despite being the smallest, but it would grow as the world was put to right and Strom ascended above the false gods.

Yet as Lessner looked, he found he couldn't deny that the whole of the sky was beautiful. That sliver of honesty wrung a soft laugh laced with self-loathing from him. Thanks to his devout mother, he'd always felt close to Strom, the teachings as much a part of him as his bones. It was why he'd become a seeker.

Getting up, Lessner looked for a discreet place to piss. Mulling over his life choices, he prayed again while he tried not to get his boots wet. He hadn't become a seeker just because of his devotion to his faith, he could have become a priest if that had been his only motive. The truth was that he had wanted adventure and had found satisfaction in killing.

Lessner was struck by sudden clarity at that moment. He'd have to go to the church and offer penance if he made it back alive. He'd been selfish, enjoying himself rather than devoting himself to the seeker's mission to honor Strom alone. After tying his pants closed, he looked up at the night sky again.

Among the profane stars, Lessner noticed something odd. Little dots of violet seemed to twinkle slowly. He'd never seen them before and stared up at them. They almost reminded him of how a cat's eyes would flash in the dark, but they burned steadily.

Lessner opened his mouth to shout a warning and tasted leather. A gloved hand had shoved its way into his mouth to gag him. He bit down as fiercely as possible, but the bastard didn't flinch.

Lessner thrashed, and the person moved with him as if they were incredibly light. Despite that, their grip didn't waver, and he could give a cry of alarm.

In his struggle, Lessner had turned away from the stone wall he'd been pissing against and was looking at the camp. Dark figures with glowing violet eyes were among his men, killing them with hardly a sound. Stunned, he stopped struggling for a moment and noticed a spreading wetness.

Lessner knew he wasn't pissing himself but reached down to touch the spreading warmth. His fingers came back stained darkly, and he knew it was blood. The knife must have been so sharp that he hadn't noticed the initial cut, though he felt a sting along his inner thigh.

Collapsing to his knee Lesser pressed a hand to his wound, hoping to buy a few moments more. As he fought unconsciousness, he tried desperately to recall what little he knew of the last rights.