We broke camp at dawn the next morning, again setting out on the road before the sun was anything more than a few streaks of light crossing the sky and highlighting the few clouds that floated along. I groaned as I mounted my horse, back sore from a night of sleeping on a thin swag on the ground. Clearly a week of living in a luxurious mansion with a wonderfully soft and comfortable bed had made me go soft. Breakfast was a simple meal of hard bread and jerky eaten on horseback. My mind wandered longingly back to the warm meals given at the kitchens of the Strykar mansion, and of my mother’s simple but comforting food that I hadn’t eaten in too long.
We entered the mountain pass for the Ember Mountain Range quickly, ground beginning to slope sharply upwards as we did. We were surrounded by thick forest now, shadows still deep between the tall trees that seemed to loom overhead and almost block the immense shape of the mountains from view. A carpet of fallen leaves deadened the sound of the horse’s hooves against the road. I could spot a few stars still twinkling in the lightening sky between the few gaps in the trees.
Jayce rode beside me today, with Ethan and Clara close behind. It seemed the three of them had been assigned on a rotation for who was directly responsible for my safety during the journey. The path began to narrow and become more unsteady underfoot as the day progressed, until Duke Strykar called for everyone to dismount and lead the horses on foot.
“I have to admit, I’m a bit surprised,” I said to Jayce, trying not to sound like I was out of breath.
He raised an eyebrow at me. “About what?” he said, annoyingly not showing any signs of fatigue despite the uphill climb.
“That His Grace and the Captain didn’t bring any attendants with them,” I replied, puffing an errant strand of hair out of my face only for it to stick to my sweaty forehead. “I thought for sure they’d have a special tent or something set up for them, and that they’d have people running about to serve them so they wouldn’t have to lift a finger.”
Jayce chuckled at that. “Naw, the Captain isn’t that sort of person. He never makes us do anything he doesn’t do himself. And His Grace isn’t any different. You heard he was originally a commoner right?” He waited for me to nod in confirmation. “Yeah, he’s never let the power of being appointed as a noble get to his head. He still goes out on patrols along the Deadwall border a few times a year, and will train with the city guard on a regular basis to keep them sharp.”
“I heard the Captain started going on the Deadwall patrols with His Grace when he was ten,” Ethan piped up from behind us. “And that His Grace was so worried about him getting hurt that he secretly went ahead of the patrol himself and wiped out any nearby demons so he wouldn’t be in danger.”
“Ooh I heard that one,” Clara said enthusiastically. “He did the same thing for Master Callum as well.”
The conversation quickly turned to stories of the Duke and Captain Strykar, of how the Duke defeated hoards of demons on their own, how the Captain discovered a hidden group of Tarnished, how the Duke personally trained each of his son’s horses himself before gifting them. It was obvious the Lycan guard held deep respect and pride for their Duke and Captain, and were only too happy to brag of their accomplishments. It very much reminded me of a group of proud mothers bragging about their children to any and all who would listen.
It took us two days to traverse the mountain pass. The path was narrow and barely wide enough for two people and their horses to walk side-by-side, and would often double back on itself as it climbed up the mountain. The higher we got, the more rocky and sparsely wooded the terrain became, and at some points the edge of the path ended suddenly in a steep cliff that suddenly dropped away. When the wind blew a certain way, I could hear the rushing water of the river far below us, treacherous waters that tumbled off the mountainside in a cascading waterfall which then became the river which fed into the dam next to Lindow.
The night on the mountain pass was spent on the rocky ground of a wider section of the pass, making me wish for the slight padding the grass at the previous night’s camp had provided. The following day was the start of our descent down the other side of the mountain. A different set of muscles in my legs quickly began to protest at this new form of abuse.
When I get back home, I’ll never complain about tilling the field ever again.
Partway through the afternoon of our descent, dark grey clouds began to form overhead. They quickly combined and became darker and more threatening as the day went on, until deep rumbles of thunder began to reverberate between the mountains. We had made far enough down the mountain to be back in the heavily forested part, and I felt the nearby trees begin to respond to what would soon be a heavy downpour of rain, and quickly fished my cloak out of my saddlebag.
I pulled the cloak on and flipped the hood up over my head just in time to feel the first few drops of rain splatter against my shoulders. I saw Jayce pulling his own hood up as the rain began to steadily fall amidst the near constant rumbling from the clouds.
“How’d you know it was gonna start raining just then?” he asked, flicking the edges of his cloak around to ensure it covered him properly.
“Oh, the trees and plants react to rain,” I told him, gesturing to the forest around us. “If I’m watching for it, I can usually catch it just before it actually starts raining.”
“Huh,” Jayce responded, and seemed to be looking around at the trees with curiosity, possibly searching for something different about them now that it was raining.
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The rain didn’t let up for the rest of the day. Water began running down the path underfoot in small torrents and making the cobblestones slippery. My cloak wasn’t able to keep up with the amount of water falling from the clouds, and I ended up soaked through and trying not to shiver from the cool breeze that blew through the trees.
We came to the end of the mountain pass as the light began fading enough that the Captain had half the fire magus in the group produce floating balls of flame to help light our way. A few hundred meters away from the bottom of the pass sat a way station for weary travellers to rest it. It consisted of a couple of roughly constructed wooden cabins that would provide nothing more than shelter from the weather, but with how cutting the wind was now that I was drenched I thought they were the most wonderful buildings in existence.
Another group of travellers had taken residence in one of the cabins, so once the horses had been safely secured, we all piled in to the remaining cabin. Inside was one large open room, two small windows on opposite walls and timber floor rough enough they would likely impale the unwary person with splinters.
Clara, who had come in through the door directly behind me, sighed deeply when she saw the room. “I suppose it was too much to hope there’d be at least a separate room to change in,” she murmured.
Right, I hadn’t thought about that.
The men of the group had all started stripping out of their sodden clothes as soon as they had dropped their packs to the floor, including Duke Strykar and the Captain. I saw the Captain as he began to lift his shirt, tanned skin of his stomach becoming visible before I looked away while fighting back a blush.
It’s not like you haven’t seen a shirtless man before, get over it.
Clara and the other two women in the group all set their packs against the wall opposite to the men, turning away and beginning to remove their cloaks.
“Er, do you want me to grow a temporary dividing wall?” I tentatively asked the women.
They all turned to face me. One with short black hair - Tula, I think her name is - spoke up. “..Would you? That would make things easier.”
I gave a nod, putting my hand into my seed pouch and having a few blackberry seeds stick to my fingers. “‘Course. It’ll just take a sec.”
I placed the small seeds in a line along the floor, stepping back and sending magic towards each one. I noticed a couple of the men had paused in what they were doing to watch, while others continued to strip without a care.
Jayce was one of the men that had stopped undressing, wearing just his still dripping pants with his shirt and cloak thrown in a soggy pile at his feet. “How come we didn’t get a wall?” he asked with a teasing whine in his voice. I ignored him, concentrating on having the seeds sprout. I saw he covered his chest with his hands, obviously fake horrified expression on his face. “Were you trying to get a glimpse of my beautiful body?”
I stared at him blankly. “Why would I want to do that?” I asked flatly, then moved my hand upwards to draw the blackberry sprouts upward and weave together in a lattice pattern. Once they had grown and woven enough to reach the ceiling, I thickened the vine and had leaves sprout thickly to make an almost solid wall that left enough space on one side for us women to undress in relative comfort.
I heard a few chuckles from the men as I walked around the wall and joined the other women in changing. It was a blessed relief to be dressed in warm, dry clothes once more. Once we were all done, I reverted the blackberry vines back to their seeds. Jayce and Ethan both gave fake screams and quickly covered themselves, even though they were both fully dressed by this point.
Clara rolled her eyes at them. “I swear, both of you share one brain sometimes.”
This seemed to start a playful argument amongst the Lycan guards. All of them began hurling light hearted insults at each other, each one becoming more and more ridiculous and nonsensical as time went on. I found myself laughing along with them. Considering they were supposed to be part of one of the most formidable and intimidating military groups in Ardere, they certainly had an almost childish sense of humour.
Some time after a simple cold dinner, Captain Strykar called a halt to the banter. “We have another early start tomorrow to make it to Yellowseed by nightfall,” he told us all sternly. “Everyone turn in.”
“Aye sir,” the guards called in unison. Everyone, myself included, laid our swags out on the floor of the cabin for the night. Once we’d all settled in, the Captain called for lights out, and the floating balls of flame winked out of existence and allowed the darkness of night fall over us.
As promised, we were on our horses and heading towards the township of Yellowseed as dawn broached the horizon the next morning. The rain had cleared during the night, leaving the sky fresh and bright. As the sun rose in the sky, the dense forest we travelled through quickly became increasingly more humid, the air feeling heavy as I breathed it in, and stray pieces of hair were quickly becoming stuck to my face with sweat. The loud drone of hidden bugs filled my ears, at points feeling almost deafening.
Ethan travelled beside me today, and I felt somewhat gratified that even he seemed to be suffering from the close heat of the day. Just after midday, the ground began to slope downwards again, and the trees eventually began thinning out somewhat and allowing a gentle breeze to blow through and provide us with some small amount of relief. Occasionally, I thought I glimpsed the glimmer of water in the distance through the trees. That was soon confirmed as we came to the edge of the forest and into view of a wide river that snaked its way down from the Ember Mountains.
The road we were on turned to follow the river downstream for a while, before turning to join to a sturdy wooden bridge that would allow us to cross safely. The water was flowing steadily, a little muddied from the previous night’s rain, and the occasional bit of debris would bob to the surface before being pulled back under and out of sight. The banks on both sides of the river were steep, and a few sections of it looked as though it had collapsed into the water quite recently as fresh mud glistened amongst the green grass. More trees could be seen across the other side of the river, although not as dense as the forest we had just passed through, and I thought I could see a few threads of smoke rising above the green canopy and signalling a settlement was nearby.
The hooves of the Duke’s and Captain Strykar’s horses echoed dully off the timber beams of the bridge. A couple of the horses ahead of me tossed their heads a few times, seeming to feel uneasy as they came to the bridge. I felt the same uncomfortable easiness they were exhibiting in my stomach, a jitter of nerves tingling down my arms and into my fingertips. I had the strong sense that something was missing, but couldn’t quite catch what it was. The feeling continued to bug me as my horse began to walk across the bridge, also tossing her head and almost hesitating as she did.
We made it to the halfway point of the bridge. I had the reigns gripped tightly in both hands, knuckles almost white with how hard I was clenching my fists. I continued to wrack my brain, feeling a sense of desperation to think of what was missing. Suddenly, an almost sick realisation washed over me, sending a cold sweat down my back.
There was no birdsong or insect noise.
I heard the faint twang that was unmistakably the sound of a bow being fired come from somewhere in front of us. A long thin shape streaked into the air, arching high before falling rapidly right towards us. My throat clenched in fear, a sudden jolt zipping down to my stomach. I tried to force myself to shout a warning, but could only manage a pained choking sound. Captain Strykar clearly noticed the danger. Fire flared to life around him in an almost protective shield as he turned to shout down the line of guards.
“Ambush!”