We caught up with the footmen and the horses after about an hour of riding. They had slowed down some after pushing hard to get out of sight, but it became obvious to us all that following our number of horses was going to be simple for the wyldemen that were on our heels.

“I thought they’d stop to eat or something,” Shilling said, looking over his shoulder back the way we had come.

“Some might have,” I said. It was a disgusting thought, those goat-faced things eating their own, but we’d already seen it when we ran down the first mob that had caught on to us.

Black Caleb, Sir Zeklan’s archer, rode in from the west to where we had stopped at the top of a hill. He’d been scouting while the Lancers and men-at-arms had suited into the rest of their armour, and now he grimaced, which made for a grisly sight as his name came from the chol weed stains that had turned his teeth, those he had left at least, black.

“I think I heard one, maybe two more packs,” he reported.

“Fuck,” Zeklan said. “Alright. We need to move.”

“The horses are almost all watered,” Giddy said. She had taken charge of the other footmen and had them working hard, running from the pack horses to the riding and warhorses. “But I’m not sure how wise it is to push them again like we just did. Especially the packhorses.”

“Then we cut them loose,” Sir Constance said. “Better to lose horseflesh and equipment than our lives.”

“You would just sacrifice these animals to be torn apart?” Giddy demanded.

“I would, without hesitation,” Constance said, looking down her nose at Giddy from her perch on her warhorse.

“Clearly you haven’t lost your Imperial heart,” Giddy said, and spat in the dirt.

Sir Constance’s eyes flashed with anger, and she reached for her sword. “And what would that mean, wench?”

“Stop now,” I said, putting myself and Castor between the two. “Giddy, finish with the horses.” I met her glare until she nodded and stormed back to her work.

“You need to get your girl in order-” Constance started, but I bulled Castor right up next to her steed and got in her face.

“If you ever threaten to raise a hand against one of my troupe, you will regret it,” I growled at her. I kept my voice low, not wanting to make a scene that could make things worse, but feeling a fire in my gut all the same. “That woman, who has taken care of your mounts and tended to their needs without a thought to the fact that your footman fails to do so, grew up in Corathine. When the Empire invaded her homeland, her family owned the second largest horse ranch in the northern Kingdoms. Knowing that she would be taken as a hostage and married off against her will, her parents sent her away with me instead. We later found out that as punishment and a lesson to other wealthy Corathine families the Imperial legionnaires were ordered to cull the entire herd. Near seven hundred horses left to rot in fields, for her. So when she spits at the Empire, think perhaps that she has a reason.”

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Sir Constance was glaring at me, but I could see the conflict in her as she worked her jaw. The woman had a severe look between her close shorn hair and the savage scar down the left side of her face, but it also left her somewhat easy to read.

“I think perhaps we need to change our plans,” Sir Zeklan said, approaching us cautiously. He may not have heard our conversation, but the tension between Constance and I was clear.

I kept my eyes locked with the other Free Lancer, but backed Castor away.

“The way I see it is this,” Gresham said, clearing his throat for a moment to give everyone a chance to take a breath. “There’s at least three more packs of the fuckers coming up behind us. So far we’ve been lucky, the sizes have been manageable and no one with us has been hurt. That luck’ll run out sooner than later.”

“I say we just ride for it. We’ll lose them eventually in the hills, and we know we can outpace them,” Ethelmeir said. “We aren’t being paid to fight these things.”

“They don’t rest, not like we’ll need to,” I said. “Gresham and I have been chased by these things before, up in the northern Kingdoms. That time it was three packs and they nearly managed to pincer us when we had to take an hour's rest. We only managed to escape them by riding straight into the Appathi river and swimming with the horses.”

“Never did figure out if it was because they lost our scents at the river, or if they couldn’t swim,” Gresham said.

“Well, if I may,” Morio said, stepping into the conversation and looking up at the rest of us on our mounts. “If my remembrances of the relevant maps are correct, we are not near any meaningful rivers at the moment. At my best guess, we’re about a day and a half ride from the borders of Yarrow’s Tomb, however.”

“We passed through there on the way to sign on with Vicelli,” Sir Zeklan said. “A village might be just what we need.”

I shook my head. “We would be leading the Wylde right to those villager’s doorsteps,” I said. “And even if the village has walls, what of the outfamilies that would be caught on their farms?”

Zeklan pressed his lips together in frustration.

“What then?” Constance asked. “If we flee, they chase. If we find shelter, we bring suffering behind us. What is left to us?”

“We fight,” I said. “There’s no other way. Something brought these things here - or more likely I would bet someone did. We’ll find a place to ambush the wyldemen, and see if we can corner whoever is summoning these beasts where they don’t belong.”

“The don’t belong anywhere,” Taldrin said, the squire staring off into the afternoon sky and listening to the braying that was still chasing us on the wind.

I looked to Zeklan. “We have no contract and no commission, but you said you wanted to hunt monsters. Are you in?”

Zeklan looked to Ethelmeir, who slowly nodded though he seemed unhappy about it. “We’re in,” Sir Zeklan said.

Sir Constance met my look to her with fire. “I do not back down from a fight,” she said. “And when we find the person behind these beasts, I expect an apology for suggesting the Empire could be behind it.”

“You’ll get it, if it’s deserved,” I said.