Living Free

Martel woke, feeling refreshed. While he had spent half the night keeping watch as usual, there had been no need to wake up early this morning to continue a hurried flight. Eleanor had let him sleep, and the sun had long since risen. As he looked around until he saw her, she smiled back at him. "Good morning."

"It is." Martel remembered the few times he and Eleanor had travelled on their own between Esmouth and the outpost. This felt the same, except it was not a temporary reprieve. Nobody expected their arrival. No orders awaited them. There would be no march into ambushes and daily skirmishes nor cannons firing at them while hiding behind walls. Martel laughed and all but leapt to his feet.

"Martel!" she exclaimed, taken aback.

He grabbed her by the shoulders to pull her up. "We're free!" He laughed again and embraced her.

"We are," she replied with a surprised chuckle before pulling back. "Every Asterian legion will be searching for us, and we are in enemy lands. But other than that, we are free to do as we please."

"Spoilsport." He smiled even as he said it. "If we can have just this small patch of woods to ourselves, I'll take it."

"Speaking of that, I should hunt. Our rations will not last forever. We should also find a source of water. We are too exposed going to the river."

"I can enchant a few rocks for us. Hot enough that we can use it for cooking without starting a fire."

She gave a wry smile. "You are useful."

"Hey, you almost didn't sound surprised this time."

***

They chose a thicket as their shelter, hollowing it out. It would shield them from unfriendly eyes, and with a few adjustments, it provided protection from the rain. Runes of warning surrounded their little home as another precaution. Nearby, a stream ran to provide fresh water. While earth magic was not his specialty, Martel could do enough to smoothen the ground and make it comfortable for sleeping, and he also added a small, encircling ditch to lead rainwater away. He risked a trip to the river to find a large, flat stone, which he enchanted. At night, it kept them warm, and during the day, it let them cook meat directly on it.

Eleanor provided the latter, hunting with her Tyrian shortbow. The forest teemed with game; no other humans had reason to live here, between two warring armies. They ate pheasant the first night, and although they had no salt for seasoning and only water to wash it down with, Martel could scarcely recall a better meal in his life.

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Eleanor set some of her meat aside to dry it, and Martel knew she meant it to be travel rations for when the day came that they might move on. He chose not to think of this; while she spent the next day hunting as well, he foraged for berries and what else could be found blossoming this early, collecting some useful plants in addition. Discovering thyme and wild garlic growing in the forest made their next meal even tastier. And each night, the rhythmic breathing of another person helped him fall asleep.

***

Eleanor scouted the river each day during her hunting trips; they had pushed their own raft back into the water, letting the current take it away, just in case Khivans should come by. So far, no sign of other rafts that had made the crossing. As far as they could tell, the legionaries did not dare to step foot on the Khivan shore.

After three days, Martel felt like he knew the forest. The best place to kneel by the stream and get water. Where to collect herbs to season their food and good locations to forage nuts or berries. The birds provided eggs in their nests, though he only took one from each. A cluster of mushrooms provided some variety to their diet as well.

Some things could not be found in the forest, of course. Martel knew that eventually, their cloaks and clothing would tear. Their boots could not last forever either. Eleanor's dagger would grow dull. But none of that seemed imminent; for now, the woods provided food in abundance along with shelter from both elements and enemies, and Martel saw no reason to worry about the future until it arrived.

On the third day, he realised that he had not used magic for a full day, not even the smallest flame; an enchanted lightstone provided weak illumination to their shelter at night as needed. This had to be the first time since he arrived at the Lyceum more than three years ago where he had not conjured the smallest magical effect for this long. Smiling to himself, he began cutting up wild leeks for their next meal.

***

The sound of movement alerted Martel, waking him from a nap. Eleanor made enough noise to identify herself even without speaking, though he still frowned; it was in the middle of the day. Perhaps she had been fortunate on her hunt and decided to bring back her game rather than carry it around.

He crawled out of the small opening that served as the door to the thicket and looked up at her. She stood before him emptyhanded but with a concerned expression. "I saw something."

"Soldiers?" he asked, getting on his feet.

"No. Or rather, I did not see them as such. But I saw their boot prints."

"Asterian?"

She shook her head. "They did not resemble mine. I think it is a Khivan patrol."

Martel relaxed a little. "Well, they have no idea we are here. I can't imagine the legate sent them a friendly notice to watch out for two wizards running around in their forest."

"Probably not, but one patrol might be followed by others."

"I'll be careful when next I go collecting food," he promised.

"I am not sure that is enough. I think we need to follow the tracks and see what we may learn. This area is desolate – do they really conduct patrols of such an empty land, or has something drawn their attention?"

Martel sighed. "Alright. Let's go."