Free The Godlost Land by Greg Curtis Page B

what? You think I could get her back for you? She will be protected by many. I am only an arcane smith and a man with a sword. One man against far too many. If Rickarial were here, maybe he could do it. But he is gone. The strongest of us have all gone. What remains behind are only the dregs. Those who can run and hide. And there are not so many of us. Besides, even if I could do something for her, why would I? You are no friend of mine dryad. You are a friend of she who has murdered my family and friends. Destroyed my home and driven me from my land. If she has turned on you it is no concern of mine.”
     
    It was harsh and ignoble. But it was also true. And she had to have known it would be his answer even before she had come. No one would help her.
     
    “You are the only wizard nearby. And I can pay.”
     
    “And what need would I have for coin? There is nowhere I could spend it. Nothing I could buy with it. No one who I could even give it to. And dead men have no need of coin!” That wasn't completely true. Coin still had some value in Whitebrook, but mostly he bartered for what he needed. Furs for food.
     
    “My sister is an innocent.”
     
    She tried again, seeking to play on his heart. To appeal perhaps to his honour. But he had neither heart nor honour left. And her claim was wrong. It had been wrong for five long years.
     
    “There are no innocents left. Not you and your people. Not your sister. When the Huntress came upon us and murdered our people, you did nothing to help us. You did not intervene with the Goddess. You did not protect the innocents as they fled. You did not offer them shelter or food. You did absolutely nothing when we were dying in our thousands and tens of thousands. Now, when those who still survive are either enslaved by her murderous temple or fleeing her armies you ask for help from us? From me?”
     
    “The innocent are gone.  They perished while you stood by and watched, uncaring of their plight. All that are left are the guilty.”
     
    And Harl included himself in that. For he was guilty of failing. Of being unable to save his family, his friends, his home. Guilty of being unable to defend the great wizard. At the very least he should have thrown himself in front of that arrow. He should have at least seen it.
     
    The strange thing was that as he said it he wasn't angry. He wasn't even bitter. He should have been. He was sure of that. And he had every reason to be. But time had robbed him of those emotions. All he had left was fatigue. A malaise of the very soul. Five years of sleepless nights and bad dreams when he was foolish enough to close his eyes. Five years of grief and sorrow. Five years of constantly looking over his shoulder and jumping whenever he heard a noise. Five years of running and hiding. There was simply nothing left.
     
    “There are innocent everywhere. All you need do is open your eyes to see them. And if you can use your magic to free my sister she will tell you the same. And when she's free she may finally be able to do something to set things to rights. To restore the temple to how it was.”
     
    There it was again. This strange talk about the current temple being different to the old one. And maybe it was in some way. He didn't know. Nor did he know how she could claim the Goddess was not responsible for the beasts and everything else her temple had brought to the lands. Or for that matter what exactly her sister could do if she was free. But in some strange way it would explain why the Temple of Artemis the Huntress had suddenly turned against the people. An explanation made of the barely plausible lies that a bard might use to hold an audience as he spun a tale of fancy.
     
    Harl didn't believe it though. And even if there was a grain of truth somewhere in her words, it didn't really matter. So what if there had been a new wash of priests through the temple? Maybe even high priests? He wasn't familiar with the history of the Temple of the