The night was chasing them, and they could already glimpse the stars blooming in the sky. Lysandra had decided to sit at the front of the wagon, next to Alaric, as she couldn't bear to continue lying down. She rested one hand on the wooden bench and placed the other on her side, as she felt a sharp pain with every bump in the road. The wound she had suffered, though already healed as if years had passed, would surely hurt for the rest of her life. It was no wonder; it would have been fatal if not for her mother's care. Her mother, who had fallen asleep in the back, lay beside Zarinia.

She was also very hungry, having only eaten some nuts Edel had given her. The good woman always carried some dried fruits in her pockets. But they did little to curb her appetite. The day's warmth was long gone, and the cold northern wind was blowing harder and harder. She covered herself as best as she could, though she was somewhat grateful for it, as it refreshed her face and kept her alert. Mr. Clawsy was nestled safely in her lap, under her cloak.

She watched the monotonous landscape of gray stones, fading along with the light of day. But she wasn’t really seeing it, lost as she was in her thoughts. She couldn't shake the image of the Raven, pawing at her. The memory made her nauseous. Alaric had told her he hadn’t killed him. That infuriated her. If it had been her, she wouldn't have hesitated.

Everything seemed to be going wrong. They had almost died, and her sister remained catatonic. But at least they had found their mother and escaped. It was a small consolation for her. Now, they would have to hide in the old cabin for who knows how long, until they figured out how to recover that cursed medallion. She could barely remember the place since they left when she was very young. Zarinia hadn’t even been born.

After a final bend in the winding road, they spotted the inn on a ridge, under the last scraps of daylight escaping over the horizon. The place was surrounded by a low stone wall, marking its perimeter, and white smoke rose from the three chimneys, quickly dissipating in the strong wind at the peak. Even from a distance, they could hear voices, music, and laughter coming from inside, and they could see the windows illuminated with a warm yellow light, contrasting with the cold darkness that was slowly enveloping everything. They passed under the stone and wood arch, from which hung a sign with the inn's name: "The Hidden Hound."(*) It had heavy wooden gates, but they hadn't been closed in a long time, and vegetation had grown around the panels, making them impossible to move.

Alaric had told her earlier that the place owed its name to a kind of joke by the owner, a big, sweaty man, bald at the crown and with a thick, long gray beard, named Gelthrán. The man had a speech impediment and sometimes mixed up words. He had originally intended to name it “The Barren Hill,” referring to the rocky, vegetation-less plain where it was located. However, it ended up being “The Hidden Hound,” which was what he usually said when he spoke quickly.

They finally reached the small area where wagons were kept, in front of the building. There were three other carts besides theirs, and as soon as they arrived, a couple of stable boys came out to meet them, taking charge of the horses and leading them to the stables. Lysandra got down with Alaric, intending to go inside and request a room, while her mother stayed behind to look after her sister in the wagon.

The building was large, with three stories and a spacious inner courtyard, open on one side of the house and accessible through a wooden arch. There were several tables and chairs occupied by groups of diners, eating and drinking cheerfully, under a roof formed by the thick leaves of vines climbing the walls. A couple of troubadours were playing some tunes in a corner, much to the delight of some little girls who were dancing in a circle, illuminated by the crackling bonfire in the center of the courtyard.

The rest of the structure was rectangular, with the first floor made of gray stone and small windows, and the two upper floors built of wood, with thick dark beams. Several balconies, adorned with flowerpots and blooms, jutted out from the walls overlooking the courtyard. The outer windows were smaller and simpler, to better protect against the winds that often battered the building during the day. Outside, near the stables, the air smelled strongly of manure, but as they moved toward the courtyard, the aroma shifted to that of mouthwatering roast meat. Lysandra’s stomach growled loudly, so much so that even Alaric noticed.

When they entered the courtyard, Gelthrán, the owner, came out to greet them amid the merriment, sweating and covered with a stained apron. They asked for a couple of rooms and decided it would be safer to dine in them rather than in the courtyard with the other travelers. They also requested that a bath be prepared, as they all really needed one. Lysandra was eager to get rid of those dirty, foul-smelling clothes once and for all. After paying a somewhat high price for all of this, they prepared to return to the wagon to fetch Edel and Zarinia.

“Caught you!” a youthful voice suddenly said behind them. It was Wart, who had sneaked up on them and was now grinning proudly that his "ambush" had worked. He held a stick in one hand, like a sword, and a beer mug in the other, which explained his cheerful demeanor and the flush in his cheeks.

“Gods, Wart! We’re not in the mood for scares. Did you run into any trouble? How long have you been here? And... how many mugs have you had already?” Alaric asked, studying the boy's rosy features.

“This? No, it’s just my second. I arrived maybe an hour ago, at most. Nothing suspicious. Some travelers coming and going, but no patrols or bandits.”

“Good. We just booked a couple of rooms and were going to fetch Edel and Zarinia, who are in the wagon,” Alaric continued.

Wart suddenly remembered what had brought them there, and the smile vanished from his face.

“Zari. How is she?”

“She’s the same. Mother’s been looking after her during the journey, but…” Lysandra said, sadly.

“BY ALL THE GODS AND DEMONS!”

Edel’s screams interrupted Lysa, and they echoed to the most distant corners of the mountains. They rushed back to the wagon, finding the old woman cradling Zarinia’s head in her lap.

“THE DAMN GIRL I GAVE BIRTH TO!”

“What’s going on?” Lysa asked, frightened, peeking under the canvas.

“Your sister! I don’t know whether to slap her or kiss her a hundred times. The poor thing is sleeping like a log. I have no idea how long she’s been like this. And I was worried…”

Indeed, Lysandra saw, with a mixture of amazement, joy, and frustration, her sister snoring deeply. Her mouth was open, and a bit of drool was beginning to dribble from the corner. It wasn’t the most feminine or delicate image for a sorceress maiden, but the three of them jumped into the wagon to embrace her, laughing with relief. Wart, caught up in the joy, and perhaps also in the alcoholic fumes, leaned in to kiss her, only to find Edel’s wrinkled hand blocking his way.

“Boy, calm your passions. I don’t know how they do things in your land, but where I come from, you don’t kiss a lady without permission,” she said, with mild disapproval. The boy stepped back, embarrassed.

“What… What’s happening?” Zarinia suddenly asked, her voice hoarse and mouth dry. She half-opened her eyes and found the four of them staring at her in astonishment.

“What’s happening is that your head is so thick even wild magic couldn’t make a dent in that skull of yours,” Lysandra said, laughing, but with tears welling up in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I fell asleep… I wasn’t snoring, was I? Oh, Rendel. Are you here too?” she said, sitting up and smiling when she saw the young man, wiping the drool from her mouth with her sleeve in a very unladylike manner, much to Edel’s dismay. She reached out to take his hand, but received a slap instead.

“Young lady! Have I taught you no manners? I don’t know what business you have with this boy. I see too much familiarity. Besides, you had us all very worried. Tell me, what do you remember? Can you hear me well? How many fingers do you see? Can you move? Does anything hurt? Let me see those eyes,” Edel said, inspecting Zari from head to toe, shaking her head like someone checking if a watermelon is ripe.

“Mom, please!” the girl complained.

“The best thing right now is to go into the inn,” Alaric said, smiling and getting out of the wagon.

“Yes, and take a bath. And eat something, please,” Lysandra added, with a smile that mixed with her exhaustion. “Can you walk, Zari?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be able to? But you’re going to have to explain a lot of things to me because I don’t even know how I got here. Or where here is. Where the hell are we?” Zarinia asked, peering curiously into the courtyard.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be able to? But you’re going to have to explain a lot to me, because I don’t even know how I got here. Or where here is. Where on earth are we?” Zarinia responded, peering outside in confusion.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“Don’t you remember anything? Well, let’s go inside. We’ll talk calmly there,” Lysandra said, helping her sister down.

Wart offered to help Edel down as well, trying to curry favor with the woman, but she brushed his hand away and jumped to the ground with surprising agility for someone her age. Alaric instructed him to wait outside for Crab for a while as they carried the supplies up to their rooms.

The rooms turned out to be quite cozy. They were on the first floor, with their doors facing each other. They were spacious, with large fireplaces that kept the interior warm and pleasant. Each room had four fairly comfortable beds, a solid table, well-built chairs, a couple of sturdy wardrobes, and a small area with a large bathtub, all arranged to provide a comfortable and restorative stay.

They bid farewell to Toothpick, who went into his room. Shortly after, the inn girls brought up their dinner. Simple, but plentiful. They let Zarinia take a bath. Meanwhile, Lysandra devoured a roasted chicken breast with a garnish, savoring it as if it were the best meal she’d ever had, ignoring her mother’s reprimands to eat more slowly. “Like a lady, not like a steppe barbarian.”

Once her sister finished, she waited for them to change the water and was finally able to bathe in the small section, separated from the rest of the room by some decorated wooden boards. She undressed while listening to her mother also scold her sister for her table manners and her familiarity with Wart. Her clothes reeked of sweat, dried blood, and road dust. Luckily, they had brought up clean changes of clothes for the three of them.

She spent a moment studying her naked body, illuminated by the faint light of a couple of candlesticks. She looked at herself in an old, somewhat crooked mirror, with missing parts that returned a wavy, distorted image. Even so, she could clearly see her dirty, makeup-free face, her disheveled hair, the bruises and scratches that covered her body, and the large whitish scar left by the sword, half a handspan below her right breast. She should be dead. She sank with a sigh of satisfaction into the simple bronze tub, filled almost to the brim with hot water, scented with flower petals floating on the surface. She dozed off, in no hurry to finish.

Until Edel poked her head in, urging her to get out, as she also wanted to take a bath. Lysandra got out of the tub with great effort, as all the accumulated fatigue seemed to have suddenly overwhelmed her. Finally, she no longer smelled like a stable. She put on a white linen nightgown and threw herself onto the bed. Before the girls could change the water for her mother, she was already fast asleep.

She had strange dreams. She was naked, in a bronze tub. But there was no water, and she felt cold. No, it wasn’t a tub, it was a cold marble slab, atop a moor, under a purple starry sky. Three men surrounded her, chanting something in a language she didn’t understand, raising their hands toward the heavens. Their faces were hidden by dark hoods, and the light of the stars made their eyes shine with a disturbing glow. The sky opened up, in a massive rift, through which something shapeless and dark slipped in, or rather spilled out. But whatever was going to happen was interrupted by a loud noise in the hallway. She sat up startled and saw her sister in the bed to her right, sleeping like a log. "This girl... a cavalry regiment could pass by her, and she wouldn’t wake up," she thought. Her mother, on the other hand, was standing by the door, dressed only in her nightgown and a sleeping cap. She was also gripping an iron poker with both hands. She heard the clashing of metal on the other side of the door, followed by a scream. And then, someone knocked urgently. She recognized Wart’s lively voice:

“Quick, get up! They’ve found us!”

“This can’t be, how is it possible?” Lysandra said, jumping out of bed.

As soon as she opened the door, she ran into the young man. He was barefoot, with tousled hair, wearing only breeches and a shirt, covered in blood. In one hand, he held one of his daggers. The other was sticking out of the chest of a soldier, slumped against the wall, with glassy eyes and a half-open mouth. The coat of arms on his surcoat left no room for doubt. A golden rampant eagle on an azure field. Brademond’s coat of arms.

“Don’t worry, it’s not my blood,” he said, noticing Lysandra’s gaze. “Grab only what’s necessary; we must leave here as soon as possible. Toothpick is holding them off at the door.”

“But what happened? When did they arrive? How many are there? Who are they?” Lysandra asked, flustered.

“I don’t know. Toothpick was keeping watch outside, and we agreed he would alert us if anything happened. Not long ago, I heard the sound of a stone hitting the window, so I ran downstairs, and there I found him, fighting a soldier. But just then, another one came in, and I had to stop him here in the hallway.”

“Only two soldiers? And Crab, hasn’t he arrived yet? And Alaric? We must help him!” Lysandra continued, on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to him right now. But in the meantime, don’t delay! We must leave before the rest arrive. These two are just the vanguard,” the young man replied, retrieving his dagger from the dead soldier’s chest and running towards the stairs.

Lysandra and her mother dragged the body into the room, as they heard sounds and voices coming from the other rooms, probably from people waking up due to the commotion. For a moment, she considered the sword in her hand. “What are you doing with this, Lysandra? You don’t know how to use it; you’ll end up stabbing your foot or worse,” she thought, finally deciding to throw it onto the bed.

While her mother packed as quickly as she could, she tried to wake Zari. She didn’t succeed until she grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her like a sack.

“What’s going on? This is the second time you’ve woken me up today. Can’t a girl sleep peacefully for a while?” the girl complained, yawning.

“Come on, Zari. They’ve found us, we must get out of here now.”

“They’ve found us? What a nightmare, honestly!” Zari sat up and saw the weapon on Lysandra’s bed. “Oh look, a sword! Since when do you have one? And... Gods, there’s a body lying there! Who the hell is that?”

“A soldier. Your little boyfriend took him out. Now get moving,” Edel scolded her.

“Mom, he’s not my boyfriend. I think,” Zari replied, blushing.

“What do you mean he’s not? It’s clear you’ve got him hooked,” her mother retorted with a teasing smile.

“Well, I like him, but we’ve practically just met…”

“Isn’t there another time to discuss these things?” Lysandra exclaimed, exasperated. “Alaric is downstairs, risking his life.”

“I see the said Alaric also concerns you quite a bit,” Edel said, winking at Zarinia, who returned a complicit smile.

“Mom, please! Not now…” Lysa replied, her voice tired. She glanced at the sword again and, after a moment’s thought, picked it up. It couldn’t be that difficult, right? The point poked, and the edge cut. Like a knife, but bigger. And in any case, she could manipulate it with a spell if necessary.

They didn’t waste time getting dressed. They covered their nightgowns with cloaks and put on boots, quickly heading downstairs. They found one of the innkeeper’s sons at the foot of the stairs, who had peeked out, alerted by the noise, but they ignored him and rushed out into the courtyard. There they found Toothpick and Wart, who had fetched the horses from the stables. There was no sign of the soldier Alaric had been fighting, except for some dark stains on the ground.

“We’re leaving the cart here; we’ll move faster without it. Leave the bulkier luggage, take only what’s necessary,” Toothpick said, handing the reins to Lysandra.

“How did they find us so quickly?” she asked, exhaling clouds of breath.

“I don’t know if they were looking for us or if it was just chance, but I’m not going to stay here to find out. The truth is, they attacked me as soon as they saw me. And more will surely come when they don’t hear from their scouts.”

“And Crab? Hasn’t he arrived yet? He wasn’t so far away that he should take this long,” Lysandra said worriedly.

“You’re right,” Alaric replied, lowering his gaze and shaking his head. “He should have arrived by now. But maybe he crossed paths with this patrol and had to detour. Let’s hope he’s okay. I’m going to wait for him, hidden, nearby. Meanwhile, Wart will accompany you along the planned route.”

“No, I don’t want you to leave us. The more we separate, the worse things get. Isn’t there another way?”

“I need to know if Crab is okay. And check where the patrol is heading and how many they are,” Alaric answered, taking a step toward her.

“What if we face them for once? I’m tired of running. With my mother and sister here, we could surely handle them without a problem!” Lysandra asserted, clenching her fists and raising the sword threateningly.

Alaric had to turn his face to avoid a slash to the cheek.

“Be careful with that, please…” Alaric said, half-smiling and half-frightened, lowering the tip of the weapon with his hand. Then, he looked solemnly at Edel. “What does the Guardian say? Could she face an entire regiment?”

“My little girl,” the old woman said, taking Lysandra’s hands and looking at her tenderly, “the time hasn’t come yet. Your sister is still weak. She doesn’t say it, but I see it in her eyes. And you too. You are brave and powerful, but you need to fully recover. And I... honestly, my dear, I’m an old woman. I’m not the Guardian I once was. Could I fight against a column of soldiers? Probably. But I couldn’t protect you all. And if reinforcements arrived, we’d have a problem. No, my dear child. Today is a day to flee and live. Tomorrow will be the day we fight.”

“But I don’t want to leave Alaric here alone,” Lysa pleaded.

“And I don’t want you to risk staying,” Alaric replied.

“And I don’t want to abandon you, Toothpick. Nor you,” Wart said, looking at Zari with resignation.

“Nor do I want any of you to abandon me!” Zari replied, scared.

“No one wants to abandon anyone or any of those things, clearly,” Edel said nervously, in an unintentional tongue twister. “But if Alaric wants to wait for his friend, it’s his right and his decision. Something very commendable, as well. I propose this,” she continued, trying to calm everyone down. “We will head up the mountain, but we won’t go too far. Just far enough to watch the path, with enough advance notice in case we need to continue fleeing. We’ll wait for you up there, for you and your companion.”

“That seems like a very fair plan,” Alaric replied, nodding slightly.

“But you must promise me you won’t take unnecessary risks,” Lysandra pleaded. “Stay hidden. And come back to us as soon as possible.”

“You have my promise.”

She stared intently at Alaric, who returned her gaze with intensity.

“Ahem,” Zari cleared her throat. “Come on, if you’re going to kiss, do it already. We don’t have all night.”

“Zarinia!” Lysandra and Edel exclaimed simultaneously as Alaric walked away, hiding a smile.

They mounted and began their ride, at a gallop. Lysandra looked back one last time before crossing the entrance arch and saw Gelthrán’s silhouette and a few other people at the inn’s door. They were carrying lamps and what looked like sticks. But there was no sign of Alaric or his horse.

(*) Note from the author:

In the original Spanish version, the name of the inn is "El Perro Celado", which roughly translates to "The Hidden Hound". The joke here is that the name in Spanish is very similar to "El Cerro Pelado", which means "The Barren Hill".