There would be no way in hell that they could continue to travel through the forest on foot and live.
Lukk absolutely despised the idea, but knew it to be the right one.
He would not cower in one of the nearby safe zones.
Whatever the girl had done under that tree, she had saved his life and he was not one to neglect a blood-debt.
Besides, he had vowed to Dieter to bring her back safely and he refused to disappoint his trusting expectations.
And so it had come to this.
He had strapped her on his back using bloodied, ripped cloth from men that no longer needed it.
He would not repeat the same mistake of having one of his hands occupied while danger would befall on them.
Before continuing their march, she had been awake for a bit.
He had fed her, and this time she fortunately kept her food inside still.
His shoes were one thing, but he absolutely dreaded the idea of having to clean her waste off of his shoulders.
So he walked as gently as he could while maintaining a still solid stride.
His wounds were already clotting but they still hurt enough to make him moan with every step, especially the more grievous ones on his back.
The arrowheads were apparently designed in such a way where they couldn’t be removed easily without tearing his flesh further, so he had let them in.
So, after every step he felt the full weight of the girl pushing them even further inwards.
He was looking for an entrance to the world below.
Sewers from ancient times that have long since been abandoned by their original culture, now inhabited by the banished and the hated of the current one.
He walked the water line, hiding behind the thick walls of reed whenever he could.
They could still sneak around in the cover of night, but it wouldn’t be for much longer.
They hadn’t encountered anyone since they left the mass of bodies behind, but there had been voices in the distance.
Clearly their attention was elsewhere for the moment, which bought them precious time to go underground.
At last he had found a gate to the underworld.
He found it through his nose, as the stinking fluid wastes left the large, circularly shaped stone entrance into the nearby river.
The iron bars guarding it from entry had been cracked open and warped, allowing them to trespass into its pitch-black depths without issue.
Lukk waited until they were well inside before lighting his torch.
No light reached here, even during the day.
Their torchlight could attract unwanted attention however, but he lacked choice.
Even with his enhanced eyesight he could not see a thing otherwise.
Knowing his large stature and his beloved greatsword would pose a significant disadvantage in many of the smaller tunnels, he had grabbed a small axe from one of his earlier victims.
A torch in one hand, the axe in another.
His hearing had returned almost fully, but an annoying, monotone and awfully loud beep still remained.
With the frantic, moving shadows which the torch cast, his ears proved more useful than his eyes.
Dirty water flowed beside him, whereas his side of the tunnel was meant for walking dryly.
Lukk had always possessed a good sense of direction, and it helped him navigate this underground maze with more ease than most.
This was not a place you would want to get lost in.
It ran so deep you’d eventually forget what the sun looked like, if you wanted to explore it in full.
During one of the increasingly rare expeditions they’d send in to chart this place, they realized just how vast the network of tunnels was.
And how extremely dangerous it could be.
Even though it provided excellent discretion when moving through hostile territory, few would actually voluntarily traverse it.
And not just because of the absolute, overwhelming reek of it all.
‘..stop..’ Lukk heard her whisper and felt her hand weakly tighten on his shoulder.
‘..wounds..infect..can..help.’ Each word was an effort and a breath.
‘I can..remove..arrows..at least.’ He smiled kindly.
‘I’m grateful, really.
But I don’t need it.
I promise you that I will get it checked once we arrive at camp, though.’ He felt her head shaking weakly.
‘No..might..die..’ Lukk’s loud laughter echoed throughout the confined spaces.
‘Girl, there’s one thing you need to know about me.
I don’t die.
I simply can’t.’ As if his persistent denial gave her the strength she needed, she yelled, ‘Listen!’ Taken aback by the sudden outburst, Lukk stopped in his tracks.
‘The arrow wounds..will infect.
You can die if..untreated.
We are in..fucking..sewer.’
After an awkward silence, Lukk finally decided to humour the girl.
Besides, some much-needed rest would do them both good at this point.
They had found a larger spot of dry stone to make their camp.
She had not the strength yet to sit without support, so he put her up against a wall.
He used his shoes’s high shaft to hold the torch in so she could see his back clearly.
Together with a small knife, a bottle of alcohol had been prepared next to it, which he always carried around like any proper soldier for “medical emergencies”, as he liked to call it.
He had removed his blood and sweat drenched shirt, revealing a myriad of battle-earned scars, burn marks and other trophies of war.
Nervous at the idea that someone that was hallucinating not too long ago would fiddle with the open wounds on his back, he reconsidered the wisdom in doing so.
‘Are you sure you are up for this, girl?’ he asked her.
Actively trying to conserve her energy, the young woman seemingly spoke only in necessities.
‘Sock.
Mouth.
Pain.’ Out of a sense of kindness he obeyed, knowing he would not need it.
His socks had luckily been spared from her filth as his boots were very well-made.
They were smelly and sweaty however, as he regretfully put one of them between his teeth.
He was chewing through his sock as the girl was poking around with her knife around one of the arrowheads, sometimes gently, but very painfully, nudging the head in many different directions to pull it out.
Without the rush of battle or a sense of heroism, pain was suddenly a lot more difficult to bear.
With a hurt yelp, the first arrowhead was slowly pulled out.
Removing the second head was fortunately more bearable than the first.
He heard a satisfying clang as the sharp object hit the ground behind him.
She then cleaned the wounds, and used the uncontaminated side of her own tunic to protect it from infestation while she wore his oversized shirt to cover herself.
‘Rest until..clotted,’ she spoke with significant effort.
Lukk adjusted his sword belt to make sure the protective cloth would remain in place, and laid on his belly as per her earlier instructions.
He rested on the ground.
Aside from the prickling feeling, the pain slowly faded to more manageable levels.
He had stared in silence at the sickly girl for a bit until he decided to ask the question that was on his tongue ever since they had left the ruins of Holten.
‘Who are you, girl?
Why would they treat you so, and what makes you important enough to risk the success of a major siege for?’
He listened in silence as Sascha told him everything about herself, her family, their history and her father’s great work in slow, pained breaths.
When they eventually emerged from the sewers, Lukk had entered into the light of noon as a man oath-sworn and utterly loyal to her cause.