Garreth glanced at the sky above him. The storm was upon them now and they were riding further into it. It was unfortunate timing. They were in the thick of the horde. Small droplets of rain started to fall on the knight, the fresh water made trails in the bits of crimson and purple that lay on his armor. He dug his heels into the horse’s side. It loped faster, turning its trot into a canter.
Mathias picked up on the change of speed and Garreth could hear him following closely behind. The creatures around them made no notice of the change of pace and he focused on moving as directly as possible. The group had to thin out soon. The castle was surrounded by they had moved along a mile or two at this point.
The relaxed rain continued and Garreth realized the sky was turning darker. He could still see where he was going but the cast from the clouds above began to take a toll on his vision. The wind picked up, whistling by in a contained fury. The wind whipped up the small droplets of water, making them sting as they hit the exposed skin on Garreth’s face. The droplets were thicker now, and the interval between them was much shorter than it had been just minutes before. The loud groaning rumble of thunder threatened them from above. It was a brief threat, but a potent one. Garreth knew that if the rain opened up there was no chance that they could stay disguised. They still had the advantage of being on horseback but one wrong maneuver meant that advantage would end quickly. The horses continued. If they were nervous, Garreth could not tell. He did not have knowledge of animal husbandry or behavior, but he knew the horses they rode had been trained for battle from a young age. They had been exposed to loud noises and the heat of battle, but masses of the undead were a different foe.
Garreth glanced around and grimaced. They were truly nasty creatures. The various states of composition mean the smell was similar to the one given off by their disguises. There was something different, however, about the stench of the horde. It had a deep rot to it. The guts under Garreth’s nose and chin, while unpleasant, were still in a state of freshness. This other rot was deeper, like the rot of a great evil left undisturbed for decades to fester and multiply. It was the rot of something forgotten, abandoned to the mutation of time.
The rain picked up and the wind increased. Its howl turned into a roar and the rain poured down hard. Flecks of viscera washed off of Garreth and Mathias as thunder crashed above them in the sky. Garret turned to Mathias and yelled over the wind.
“Mathias! We need to push through!”
As soon as he spoke, all hell broke loose.
Sounds of agitation came from some of the shambling creatures near them as they turned towards the pair. They galloped along the rocky path, hoping the horses could find their footing. The torrent of rain had completely washed their disguises away from them now. They were bare to the undead threat that threatened to keep them surrounded.
Garreth drew his blade from its sheath and held it in one hand. He placed the reins in the other and swung the sword down across the first creature within range. The effect was instant. It cleaved through the flesh of the creature’s shoulder, creating a large gash in the top. It continued through the brittle bone and came out the other side. The excess of the arm fell to the ground. It was mostly bone but bits of pink material clung to the sides. He brought the sword through the air again, this time connecting with one’s head. It was an ugly specimen, fresher than the last. The flesh that could be seen through its tunic had a green tinge and had the consistency of a bruise. The remnants of a thick beard could be seen on its chin. Thin brown hairs that dislodged from the puff of air created by the swinging blade. The momentum of the horse combined with Garreth’s strong swing sent the sword all the way through the entry wound, cleaving the skull in half. While it bounced to the ground the arms of the undead abomination grasped blindly at Garreth, its nails scratching against the plate armor that covered his stirruped legs.
Garreth turned to make sure Mathias followed. The squire was in a panic. He held the reins in both hands and clutched them tight. His white knuckles a stark contrast with the brown shade of the reins. He was pale, but determined. Not agile enough to ride and wield his weapon at the same time, Mathias kicked out a boot at an enemy that reached out for the side of his horse. The blow connected. A dent appeared in its jaw confirmed by a scatter of black and yellow teeth that made their way to the ground.
As they rode, Garreth took notice of the landscape around them. They were still in the foothills. This meant the path was punctuated with precarious rocks and curves. Though small, a drop from the top of one of the hills that dotted the landscape could lead to serious injury. Garreth felt Mathias’s horse lurch from behind. It whinnied, the sound was loud and desperate. Garreth turned to look just in time to see the horse pitch forward. It stumbled on the uneven stones in front of it and Mathias was dislodged to the side as the beast’s legs buckled from underneath. Thinking quickly, Garreth slowed his horse and pulled the reins. It reared backward, its hooves digging in to the mud that covered the ground below.
Mathias was sprawled on the ground with his arms out in front of him. Though the fall was hard, the light armor around his tunic helped to cushion the blow. He rose wearily to his feet, no doubt feeling the bruises that would be formed on his flesh later. Bruises that wouldn’t get a chance to form if Garreth didn’t do something quickly. A group of three creatures advanced on Mathias from the side of the path. They must have been resurrected at the same time. All three of them bore the symbol of Caelum, the regular yellow of the sun emblem now a light shade of brown. Age tattered their clothing, and skeletal remains could be seen underneath the holes and tears in the cream colored fabric. Though they were mostly bone they advanced with a certain ferocity at the sight of the dazed squire. The first one gurgled as it approached. It swiped forwards with a bony hand and an intent to grab the squire’s side. Mathias took a moment to side step and moved backward, putting space between them. He drew a short sword from his hip and pointed it at the foe. The two other undeads continued just behind the first. Together they clamored on, excited gurgles and babbles escaping their throats with the excitement of primitive animals.
Garreth turned his horse in time to see Mathias’s horse thrash itself up on the ground. Its back left foot was mangled. A sharp white piece of bone stuck out the side and out towards the sky. The movement of the horse attracted the attention of more of the creatures and several of them moved upon it, the frenzied screams of the dying horse mingled with the sound of tearing flesh. Its previously blonde coat was marred with crimson from its wounds.
“No!” Mathias screamed.
He struck with his blade, sticking it into the throat of the abomination in front of him. The blade’s movement pushed the creature back and it flailed as it fell. It did not have enough flesh to keep the blade lodged and Mathias pulled it back and took aim at the next. This time he swiped across its chest, the metal tore through the thing’s tunic and through its back. While the sword did not have enough momentum to go all the way across, the creature crumpled. There was not enough bone support to hold up its chest. The third creature did not wait to strike. It reached forward, managing to get a grip on Mathias’s wrapped shoulder. He cried out in pain as it squeezed. It brought its head forward in an attempt to bite but Mathias brought his left hand forward and crashed the hilt of his sword in between its eyes. The staggered beast released him and took a few recovery steps backward. This thin window of opportunity allowed Mathias to stomp at the creature on the ground. His boots made contact with its skull as the orbital around its eye socket collapsed. Shards of bone stuck to the mud on his boot as it writhed. One more swing of the sword separated its already weakened neck from its head.
Garreth rode his horse forward and swung his own blade. The last undead began an attempt at a weak grab but faltered at the contact. The blade lodged deep into its skull from the top. It babbled and groaned as its head split in half at the top, bone dust emanated from the wound. It fell and the two men took a second to catch their breath.
“Mathias, get on!” Garreth commanded, “We have to go now!”
Garreth could see a few more groups of shambling monsters coming towards them. The prospect of flesh and battle had them whipped into a frenzy. Mathias’s downed horse was not moving anymore, and the group around it turned, sensing a bigger threat. Mathias winced as he pulled himself onto the back of Garreth’s horse, the soreness of his shoulder impeded his ability to pull himself up but he managed.
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Garreth urged the horse forward. It rocketed down the path, gradually building itself up to a gallop. He held the reins in both hands, using a slight tug and squeezing his legs together to guide the horse past the looming undead threats. The horde appeared to be thinning now. The rain beat down on his helmet. The sound of it echoed in Garreth’s head like a gong. Another crash of thunder sounded from above and the lightning that accompanied briefly lit up the sky.
They were almost out now, less creatures crowded the path. Garreth kept the horse’s pace steady but he was sure it wasn’t going to slow down as long as the undead were around. They continued on and finally passed the last group, the rocky path ahead signaled to them that they were so close to freedom.
As the last of the enemy creatures left their sight, Garreth slowed the horse down slightly. The rain beat down but the storm was coming to an end. The droplets of rain thinned and the discontent of the storm in the sky faded as it got further behind them. Another sound entered their ears, the sound of running water. They were close to the stream. They had made it through the siege group and could finally take a minute to rest.
Garreth slowed the horse to a trot as they approached the water. He pulled the reins back and held the animal in place, allowing Mathias to dismount. Mathias awkwardly hopped off of the horse’s lower back and stood in place. He turned his head to the side and retched, gray pieces of porridge could be seen in the chunks of vomit. They served as a sickening reminder of his breakfast that morning.
Garreth broke the silence.
“I am sorry about the mare,” he said.
Mathias said nothing but continued to look at the ground. He placed his hands on his knees and leaned forward slightly.
“Tabitha, her name was Tabitha,” Mathias replied. Garreth said nothing and let the squire continue.
“I raised her from a foal, my parents always said we would be a funny sight when I reach knighthood.” He stood up, slowly. He turned towards Garreth. “Now I guess we’ll never see that day.”
Garreth dropped down out of the saddle and onto the ground. His armor felt heavy on top of him as his feet met the ground. The terrain here was softer than it had been on the foothill path. The saturation from the running water nearby kept it supple. He kicked a small coating of dirt on the pile of sick that laid at Mathias’s feet.
“Would you like to say a prayer?” Garreth asked.
Mathias did not say anything in response. He closed his eyes and lowered his head slightly in concentration. His lips moved but Garreth could not make out the words. He didn’t need to. Mathias looked up and walked forward towards the bank of the river. His hands clasped at the straps that secured the light armor to his tunic and he released them. He set the armor off to the side and crouched down and extended his hands towards the running water. The backs of his palms made contact with the crisp surface and he submerged them, filling them. He drank from his hands greedily.
Garreth followed suit and removed his helmet and gauntlets. He took off his chestplate and followed the path Mathias took to the riverbank. The horse was already there, it shivered with pleasure as it got a taste of the cool mountain stream. He took one of the saddlebags off of its side and placed it next to the water’s edge.
“We should wash,” Garreth said.
While the rain had removed most of the viscera that was previously on their bodies the stink still clouded their bodies. Several pinkish bits could still be seen on the outsides of their armor and various parts of their bodies. Garreth quickly stripped down to his undergarments and waded into the stream. It was pleasantly cool. He felt the smooth rocks underneath as his feet touched the bottom. The stream was shallow and the water came up to just under his waist. He reached towards the bank and grabbed a crude bar of soap from the saddlebag. While it was not necessarily common for soldiers and footmen to wash, the knights made it a habit. Cleanliness was a tenet of theirs considering their familiarity of the ladies and lords of the castle. It was expensive, but Garreth made sure to always have some sort of soap on hand. He could not afford the lavish varieties that contained flower petals and spices, but often purchased cheaper varieties created with plant oil from the common agriculture the castle’s farmers grew in their fields. The plant oil was mixed with wood ash and made up the foundation of the soap that the common folk used.
Mathias undressed and stepped into the stream. The bandages that covered the wound in his shoulder were tinged dark with dirt and mud. He grabbed another roll of bandages from the saddlebag on the bank and slowly unwrapped the current one. He winced as it slowly peeled off of his skin.
“Let me see it,” Garreth said.
He reached out and gently placed a hand on the squire’s upper arm, being careful to not touch the wound. The poultice gave the raw pink of the wound a green hue that Garreth was relieved to see was not from infection.
“Seems like it’s healing fine,” Garreth said. He removed his grip from the squire and passed him the bar of soap. “Use this, we want to be clean when we meet the Lamia.”
“Are we supposed to bathe often?” Mathias asked.
Garreth felt a laugh forming in his chest. He smiled weakly and shook his head.
“Yes farm boy, cleanliness is an expectation.”
“What’s the point? We’ll just get dirty again tomorrow,” Mathias answered.
“As a knight, one must be of clean mind, spirit, and body.” Garreth did not particularly enjoy being mysterious but found it necessary.
“Hmmm,” Mathias answered. His words invited an explanation.
“Tomorrow, we will come across a village. It’s called Briar,” Garreth said. “We will not be able to show up at the Lamia’s door unannounced, even with all of this silver.”
“Wouldn’t they be happy to see it?” Mathias interrupted.
“They will be,” Garreth continued, “But we don’t know where they live and I’m sure the humans in the village won’t have any idea either.”
Mathias stared and waited for Garreth to continue.
“We are going to have to lure one out and capture it, and to do that, we can’t stink like corpses,” Garreth said, “They’ll smell us from a mile away if we do.”
Mathias nodded, the importance of the soap seemed to have dawned on him.
“Put that back in the bag when you’re done,” Garreth said.
He cupped his hands and trapped some of the water that flowed around them. He drank and waded out onto the shore. Reaching into the saddlebag, he procured two waterskins. They were made of sheep. A thin rope sat tied at the end of each one, keeping the contents from spilling out. Garreth untied the waterskins and gently dipped the heads into the stream. After they filled, he re-tied the rope and placed them back in the saddlebag.
“Drink out of the stream if you are thirsty,” Garreth said, “We will save these for when fresh water is not available.”
Garreth grabbed a few branches and sticks close to the water’s edge. There were a few trees around, no doubt getting their sustenance from the stream that flowed so freely through. Their trunks were thin and gnarled. They grew like underfed animals confined to a stall, any additional energy expended would have hampered their chances for survival. Despite the disheveled appearance of their branches and trunks, little green buds stuck out of the tips of the branches. Winter’s hold on the land was fading and the rains kept the streams thick and the trees ready to burst.
He placed the sticks and branches in a circle, stacking them in the center. Garreth took some blades of grass and additional brush from around them and stacked those in the gaps of the branches. He rummaged through the saddle bag and took out a flint and steel. He worked the tool in his hands, striking it at an angle that created the maximum amount of sparks. They flew from the steel bit, dancing in the air with a vibrant shade of orange. Some of them landed on the brush in the pile but did not ignite, willing to give Garreth a teasing smolder before they died. Finally they took, and the fire, though modest, was in full force.
Mathias walked back out of the stream, his shoulder was rewrapped with fresh bandages. He shivered as the heat from the flames made contact with his skin. Together they sat on opposite ends of the fire, making sure they were completely dry before they wore their clothing. Garreth’s tunic felt comfortable.
Garreth gave himself a few minutes to warm up. They had rode for a few miles and evening was catching up with them. While the sky was not dark, the sun was on its last legs, leaving crimson trail as the orb readied itself to disappear under the line of the horizon. He reached into the saddlebag once more and pulled out two doughy looking pastries. They were stuffed with meat and cheese from the kitchens. He wrapped them in a cloth and placed them on the ground close to their fire. Garreth also brought out four hard boiled eggs. He handed two of them to Mathias and kept two for himself.
“Eat these while the tarts warm up,” Garreth said.
Mathias wasted no time in snatching his share of the eggs. He ate them quickly. Garreth and Mathias sat in silence for a few minutes before Garreth pulled the pastries out of the cloth on the ground. They were hot to the touch but his tough, weathered skin did not let him feel the heat like another man would. He handed one to Mathias.
The pastry was a deeper shade of brown now as it had been cooked by the heat of the fire. Garreth split it in half, yellow strings of cheese dripped from the bottom. The first bite was incredible. The heartiness of the beef inside mixed with the salty mix of the cheese. The pastry dough on top only added to the flavor, incorporating a crumbly texture that tasted almost heavenly.
After he finished his tart, he saved a piece and gave it to the horse. The horse accepted the treat and ate it quickly. It brought its head forward and sniffed at Garreth’s hands, looking for more. Realizing the disappointment, it returned its head to the ground and grazed.
The sun was low in the sky now. Sunset was coming within minutes. Garreth walked back to the fire and turned towards Mathias.
“I will take the first watch, get some sleep,” Garreth said.
Mathias unstrung the rolled bedroll from the back of the horse and placed it on the ground. He reached again for Garreth’s but Garreth waved him away. He would grab it later when it was time for sleep, now was the time to keep guard.