Anthin shivered in the back of the wagon, one of a train that Edwyne had arranged to smuggle them out of Wayra. His wounded left hand was little more than a lump of useless flesh and still painful. It had become infected. He lay miserable fighting bouts of pain, chills and fever as the wagon train trundled along towards Bayamak. Getting out of Wayra hadn't been easy.

  He’d made it from the cathedral with no issues. Waiting hidden in the catacombs while agents of the Cult had turned the place upside down looking for him. Thankfully he was able to avoid them and sneak out come night. He’d made directly for Edwyne’s shop, hopeful his friend had not suffered due to Anthin’s actions.

  Arriving at Edwyne’s he found the place closed up and guarded by Wayran soldiers. Obviously word had reached some official or other of what had transpired. This made Anthin the subject of a city wide search and it looked grim for Edwyne as well. He stuck around long enough to know there was no hope of salvation there before moving on. He next went to the university deeper within the city. He had an old friend there who’s connection to himself was not widely known.

  The pre-dawn found him tapping on a window at the university's ground floor. After many urgent minutes his friend, looking dishevelled and half asleep, opened it. “Anthin, is that you?” Surprise and curiosity evenly matched in his query.

  “Yes it’s me Thadius. Could you grant me entry? Quickly before someone sees!” Thadius Menther was a scholar and historian. His area of study being primarily the Church, its theology and history in Etrusia. They’d known each other for many years.

  Thadius moved aside so his unexpected visitor could enter and as Anthin squeezed in through the window asked, “What in Sayoshti’s name are you doing, sneaking about at this hour?”

  “It’s a long story and one that means a great deal of trouble for Wayra.”

  The two had sat and Anthin explained the situation and events as much as he dared. He and Thadius were akin in many ways and Anthin felt safe telling him the bulk of the truth though he kept some of the more alarming details to himself. Both to protect Thadius should the authorities trace Anthin there and because he didn’t want the full extent of the nightmare to be known and the waters further muddied before he could escape Wayra.

  When his tale was told Thadius was stunned to silence for a time.

  “I need some things from you, on the sly. It’s imperative no word of this passes your lips.” Anthin told him.

  “Of course, go on.” Thadius didn’t hesitate for a second upon learning his friend needed assistance. Anthin didn’t doubt his resolve.

  First was to find medical aid for his hand. Next, find out what had happened to Edwyne then see about securing passage out of the city and the country. Thadius promised to do what he could. Anthin spent a fitful night sleeping on a chaise.

  Luck or Sayoshti’s Blessing was with him when he awoke. After his lectures to students for the day were completed Thadius returned to his chambers with two others, one of them a student of medicine enrolled at the university, the other was Edwyne.

  Elated at seeing his friend unharmed yet worried about this third individual knowing his whereabouts Anthin took Thadius aside before agreeing to having the student look at his hand. “Can you trust this one?” He asked, clearly referring to the student.

  “Who, Patris? Yes we can trust him.”

  As it turned out Patris was a foreign student and had been subjected to incarceration himself until Thadius had vouched for him with the local authorties. His studies and remaining in Wayra were dependent upon Thadius’ patronage similar to Anthin’s parole being subject to Edwyne’s.

  In regards to Edwyne he was free if not clear. He explained the situation to Anthin while Patris took a look at the injured hand. After Anthin’s avoidance of the ‘escort’ sent to take him in they’d had a great many questions for Edwyne. At the time though dissatisfied with the answers they’d left him to return to his shop as they tried to track Anthin down. Edwyne, being no stranger to trouble, had taken steps after that to protect himself. So when the soldiers returned later to take him into custody again he was already gone from the shop and safely in hiding.

  Patris looked at Anthin’s hand, unwrapping the rough blood and puss filled bandage. “Sayoshti save me, what did you do to this hand?”

  The appendage was mangled to the point that it could no longer even be called a hand. The acidic bile and fluid that had slopped onto it had in effect melted the appendage into a rough lump of flesh. Fingers melded together, the skin was tight and filled with blisters and lesions.

  “Nothing I’d care to recount. Can you save it?” Anthin demanded irritably.

  “There's nothing left to save short of a full reconstruction. Even then I’m not sure it would ever serve you again. I’m afraid it may require amputation.”

  Resigned Anthin sighed, “Get on with it then but save it if you can. I’ve got things to do.”

  “I’ll need tools and medicines.” Patris declared to the room. “I’ll return right away.” He rewrapped the hand in a clean dressing and stood to gather what he needed.

  “Patris!” Thadius stopped him. “Not a word. To anyone!” Patris nodded sharply and left the room leaving the three to plan.

  Anthin addressed Thadius. “I am sorry my friend. For bringing this to your door. There may be trouble in it for you if I’m found here.”

  “Nonsense.” Thadius reassured him. “We’ve been friends for too long to worry about that.” He was aware of the tide of events within Wayra, despite the risk he and Anthin were steadfast friends and Thadius was never one to ignore a friend’s need.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  As they waited for Patris to return Edwyne and Anthin laid out plans to escape the city. “I’m a fugitive in my own city.” Edwyne bemoaned. “They came in the afternoon looking for you. When I didn’t know where you were they shuttered my shop and took me in for questioning. Your access to the city was at my recognizance. I convinced them I knew nothing of your purpose or whereabouts but they ordered me to return tomorrow for further questions.”

  “I’m sorry Edwyne.” Anthin attempted to mollify him. “Had I known the full extent of the corruption I’d never have involved you.”

  “I know, I know.” Edwyne sighed deeply lamenting his ill luck. “I’d have been involved eventually anyway. These events will affect trade and I’m a merchant, plus I know a good many patriots who will resist once the truth is out. My involvement was but a matter of time.”

  When Patris returned with his surgical tools their plans were completed. Thadius would procure supplies for a journey. Edwyne would send a second message to the Citadel from Anthin that would lay out the situation in Wayra. Edwyne then gave Thadius several messages to pass on to like minded citizens. “The public must know of the corruption festering in their city!” He had a waystation outside the city where he kept wagons and teams to transport his goods. He could provide a discreet passage out of the country. General Falmar’s men knew who Anthin was and where he’d come from. Hopefully they’d concentrate their search within the city and on the docks. As far as escaping the city, Edwyne also knew of a way past the walls.

  Patris did what he could for Anthin’s hand. He was quite a skilled surgeon for a student. He’d doused Anthin with a concoction, “For the pain.” and had set to work. “I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me what did this to your hand. I’d say something acidic got on there.” He was clearly curious, maybe too much so.

  “The less you know the better for all of us I think.” Anthin answered.

  The young man deftly cut away melted skin, stitching up what he could and managed to unfuse his patient’s thumb and first two fingers. Anthin endured the pain, barely numbed by the medicine. Truthfully the whole hand was already afire, a few cuts and a bit of lost skin caused little more discomfort. When done Patris applied a salve and expertly wrapped the wounded hand. “It’ll never be as good as it was, but I’ve saved what I can.”

  “A fine job young man. You’ll make a remarkable surgeon one day.”

  Thadius ushered Patris out the door quickly and left after him to gather what was needed. Anthin and Edwyne stayed up to work out the finer details of the escape. Once satisfied they settled in to await Thadius’ return.

  The morning found them up before dawn outfitted and ready to go. Thadius was true to his word and had gotten them food, blanket rolls and a sword for each of them. Edwyne and Anthin then bid him a sombre goodbye.

  “Get yourself out of the city too, and soon my friend. If I know anything about these types of things they will come for the scholars and news hawkers soon.” Anthin warned him. “Take Patris with you. He’s a good lad but I’ve no doubt how long he’d last under questioning.”

  “I will Anthin. Edwyne. Good luck and may Sayoshti go with you.”

  The fugitives made their way through the dark streets avoiding what patrols were out. Looking for them or just on regular duty they didn’t know but the soldiers carried lamps making them easier to avoid. There were however more than one close calls. Turning one corner Edwyne froze on the spot causing Anthin to bump into his back. A whoosh of breath escaped Anthin’s lungs, loud in the quiet street. Anthin looked beyond Edwyne to see a guardsman standing not ten paces away, mercifully looking away from them. Quietly the two backed up and took another route.

  Twice they came to blows. The first time-not long after almost running into the one guard-a pair of watchmen turned into the street directly in front of them. With nowhere to run and a speed born of desperation Edwyne rushed the guards. Anthin followed suit a half second later. The guards, surprised to immobility were overtaken and knocked out cold before they could raise an alarm.

  Their second encounter came with the first light of the morning brightening the sky. Edwyne stopped at the exit of the alleyway they were using and motioned Anthin to get low. Together they crept a few paces forward before Edwyne stopped again. He pointed to a culvert that ran parallel along the city wall. It would lead to a tunnel through which they’d make their escape. The way was unfortunately also blocked by three more soldiers milling about. They discussed their options, and finding none determined that the best course of action was to go forward.

  The two stood and shouldered their packs. Then as brazen as could be they strode from their cover as if they had not a worry in the world. It was a convincing facade and it almost worked. The guardsmen were scanning the streets however and despite there being some folk about these two stood out.

  They passed close to the trio of guards when one called out, “Hold on there.” Reaching towards Anthin to stop him. Edwyne wasted no time, in a flash his sword swung from its sheath slicing through the guardsman’s wrist. The man dropped to the ground clutching at his severed hand. Anthin drew his own blade and turned to face the other two guards. Despite their age the duo were experienced and trained, surprise worked in their favour.

  The street cleared at the first sign of trouble, leaving Anthin and Edwyne alone facing the guards. These two gave them more trouble than the last lot. They were ready and skilled. A short fierce fight followed where Anthin dispatched his opponent in a flurry of blows and Edwyne managed his quickly after. Luckily for Anthin his sword hand was not the mangled one. With the two guards regrettably dead Anthin stalked over to the third. He was kneeling on the ground in shock watching the blood well between his fingers as he gripped his newly acquired stump. Anthin knocked him senseless with the pommel of his sword.

  Quickly then, as the noise of the conflict was sure to bring more soldiers. They made their way down the culvert into Edwyne’s tunnel. It was small and cramped. They had to push their packs ahead of them as they slithered on their bellies through the muck at the tunnel's bottom. It was just a drainage tunnel and barely large enough for them to squeeze through. Edwyne’s men had cut the grate off of the outside wall ages ago and had been using it to sneak goods into and out of the city ever since.

  Finally they pushed through to the other side. Wet and covered in mud, hopefully just mud, they made their way into the treeline northwest of the city. From there it was about an hour's travel by foot to Edwyne’s wagon yard.

  Before leaving the city Edwyne had pre-arranged for a caravan to Bayamak. Officially anyway, the company running this caravan while belonging to Edwyne was registered to an unaffiliated corporation. It was clear to Anthin that Edwyne used this particular faucet of his business for less than legal means. Ethics aside, it suited their needs.

  Three days later they crossed into south eastern Bayamak following an old highway that ran parallel to the river key. The road would swing south of Key Marsh but there the route Edwyne chose would cut through the marsh. “My drivers know a way through. Better to take the chance and avoid any pursuit.”

  By then Anthin was too ill from his wound to notice. He lay in the wagon bed oblivious to anything but his own suffering. Edwyne stayed with his friend as often as he could. Administering medicine as needed and ensuring Anthin was as comfortable as possible.

  Two days' travel through the marsh brought them through to the other side and they rejoined the highway swinging south to avoid the Dreadlands. With another day’s travel they’d be in the northern end of The Grant. They planned to stop at the outpost there and another few day's journey further south would bring them to The Citadel where Anthin could get the help he needed and conceivably some closure to his adventure in Wayra.