“Garreth, it’s morning,” Mathias said.

Garreth groggily raised his head off of the top of the bedroll that he had placed on the ground the night before. It was dawn. To the east, the sun could be seen barely peeking over the horizon. It was orange today. It would have been a peaceful view had they not been tasked with the journey ahead.

Visions of the undead danced in his head, they robbed him of a peaceful sleep. He saw the ones that had attacked them on the way out of the castle last night, the ones that they battled two days before, the ones that had taken Lord Haywood to his early grave. They were warnings, Visions of what would happen if they were not able to interrupt the cruel ritual being cast against their helpless kingdom. The idea knotted his stomach to pieces. He was loyal to his kingdom. If fallen what would he do? He would not be one of those wandering mercenaries like the men at arms that showed up at the castle for Caelum’s feasts and tournaments. Many of them were powerful, yes, but there was a listlessness about them. Their loyalty was not earned in valor but procured by coin. It was no way for a man like Garreth to live.

“Let’s pack up, let me see the map,” Garreth said.

Mathias looked in the saddlebag and pulled out a rolled-up piece of parchment. There was a thin red string tied together in the middle that kept the roll tight. He handed it to Garreth who undid the knot and stretched it out across his lap.

“It looks like we can be in Briar by mid-morning,” Garreth said. He traced a finger across the river and further to the East. He tapped the inked B absentmindedly. He had never been to Briar. He knew it was small but did not know anything else about the place. He wasn’t sure if they had an inn or a place to stay, but something like that could be coaxed from a local farmer, even if it was just a spot in a hayloft. They had been given an allowance. It wasn’t much; enough to get a place to sleep on their journey east and extra supplies here and there but it was more silver than a lot of the locals would see in at least two months.

Garreth didn’t make it a habit of flashing silver around when he was on the road. He knew other knights did. In some towns, the money meant a knight lived like a minor lord. It procured ale, food, and sex. It also provided ample opportunity for cutthroats and thieves. While the knights in Caelum’s kingdom did not have to take vows of chastity, (though some did) Garreth did not lean into the appeal that being a king’s knight provided with potential romantic partners. He was not averse to personal relationships but did not accept interference with his knightly career.

“Mathias, eat your fill from the saddlebag,” Garreth said, “I will tack the horse.”

Garreth put the map back and topped off the waterskins in the stream. He looked at his reflection in the water below as he knelt on the bank. The man that stared back at him was tired. Thin bags sat under his eyes, they darkened the already brown skin that sat just above his prominent cheekbones. He wondered how the castle was getting along today. The undead they encountered on the ride to the river were alarming. They were enemies that took a mental toll on Caelum’s army. To fight something as terrifying as a corpse was hard. To fight a horror that looked like your fellow soldiers, or armies of the past, was something no person should have to fight.

Garreth took the waterskins back to Mathias to pack. He led the horse over to the assortment of supplies and tacked it quickly. Daylight was valuable and if they needed to procure housing from a local farmer, they would have much more success doing it during the day. Once the horse was tacked, Garreth pulled himself up into the saddle. Mathias followed behind him and turned, so they were back to back.

Off they went, east towards the city of Briar. The sun was bright in the sky and the lack of foliage in the foothills meant that the ride would be warm and pleasant. A slight breeze rolled in from the south. It danced along the path, kicking up small piles of dust from the deep crevices of the rocks that littered the ground. Garreth left his helmet off, the breeze felt good against his exposed braids. A somber melody sprung from Mathias. He whistled. Garreth could hear it over the breeze. Garreth closed his eyes and listened for a moment, letting the horse steer itself ahead. He enjoyed music but didn’t know anything of making it. He was not born to nobility. He did not receive the structured knowledge that people of that stature did. Garreth knew combat. Yes, he had received basic arithmetic and rhetoric, but nothing more than that. All of the other gaps were filled with lessons of the sword, fighting on horseback, and archery.

“What is that song?” Garreth asked. The whistling stopped.

“Sorry Garreth, I didn’t mean to bother you,” Mathias said.

“It does not bother me, I enjoy music,” Garreth replied.

“The song isn’t anything special, it’s just an old folk melody,” Mathias said. He paused for a moment. “My grandfather used to whistle it while we worked the fields.”

Garreth felt sympathy for Mathias. He knew the farmers that toiled the fields were not as respected throughout the kingdom as they should have been. He didn’t know Mathias’s complete motivations, but assumed the respect had something to do with his choice to become a squire and strive for knighthood. He thought back to when he was a squire. Some of the knights they served were brutes. They threw their stature around and took their frustrations out on the ones they were supposed to teach. Garreth remembered cleaning many pieces of armor and sharpening blades. It was not glamorous work but it was the natural order of Caelum’s kingdom.

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“Woah,” Garreth said softly. He stopped the horse and looked around.

“What’s the matter?” Mathias asked.

“We should hunt a deer,” Garreth said. “We have enough daylight to get to Briar and it may come in handy when we try to secure a place to sleep.”

Mathias nodded and dismounted from the horse. He reached into the saddle bag and paused.

“Garreth, do we have a bow?” he asked.

“No,” Garreth replied. “We’ll have to set a snare.”

Garreth jumped down from the horse and firmly moved Mathias aside. He reached into the saddle bag and pulled out a thin loop of rope. He motioned for Mathias to follow and they walked into the nearby brush. They walked along for several minutes. Mathias used his sword to make scratches in the bark of trees they passed. Garreth wasn’t sure that they needed the navigation help but appreciated the effort.

“Here,” Garreth whispered. He held up a hand and they stopped. He pointed at the small tracks that lay in front of them. The track was small, much smaller than the track of the horse they rode in on. The hoof print had the markings of four toes. It sat lightly in the dirt on the ground mixed with a slight amount of mud from a past rain. The tracks continued further into the brush and both men crouched low to avoid detection in case it was close.

As they moved into the brush, Garreth uncoiled the loop of rope in his hands. He created a loop in one end, rigging it so it would tighten against whatever was unfortunate enough to slip inside. He scanned the immediate area until he saw what he was looking for. There, just ten feet away was a fallen tree. The trunk was small and Garreth thought even the squire could wrap his arms around its circumference. Its bark was scarred black, marking it as the recipient of an untimely strike of lightning. The leaves were curled and dead in their branches, unable to get support from the roots that were no longer attached to the earth at the other end. The sat gnarled and twisted, reaching out for the sky and water that they would not be able to drink.

Garreth took the unsnared end of the rope and tied it tight to the first fork in the branches of the tree. Garreth pulled on it to test its strength. The rope and branch held firm. Garreth took the snared end of the rope and propped it over another branch of the tree, letting it hang slightly off the ground.

“Now we wait,” Garreth whispered.

“Why don’t we lure it?” Mathias suggested.

Garreth mulled the squire’s idea. They did not have any berries or the typical fare that deer would like to eat. He also did not see any in their immediate area. Mathias spoke up suddenly.

“Let’s use some sweetgrass,” Mathias said.

“Sweetgrass?” Garreth questioned.

Mathias said nothing but stepped towards a shrub on the other side of the clearing. He bent down and plucked some thin patches of grass from the ground. They were brown with flecks of yellow embedded in the blades. Tiny black streams of liquid ran down the sides. It was slow and thick, like molasses. As Garreth looked he saw smaller patches throughout the rest of the clearing.

Garreth sat as Mathias grabbed more grass. He took a flexible twig from the ground and used it to bind the collection of sweetgrass together in the middle. He handed it to Garreth.

“Animals love sweetgrass,” Mathias said. “The sap inside tastes like syrup.”

He plucked a blade from the bundle Garreth held and put it into his mouth. He bit down and pulled the blade out from between his teeth, forcing the goop outside onto his tongue.

Garreth placed the bundle against some mid level branches. It was propped up so that a passing animal would need to turn its head up towards the sky and walk forward. He double checked the snare and its connection to the fallen tree and smiled, satisfied.

The pair crept back the way they came and sat down against a bush. They made sure the bushy fronds kept them from being seen by anything that might come across the sweetgrass in the clearing.

“Shouldn’t be too long,” Mathias said. “It smells very strong to them when it's bundled up like that.”

Garreth kept his eyes locked to the direction of the snare. They did not have to wait long. A half hour went by when they heard it. The sound of snapping branches and small grass came from the other side of the clearing ahead of them. A young buck stepped out of the forest. It was timid yet bold. It walked with the air of superiority only a juvenile could provide. The beginnings of thick, proud antlers were on the top of its head. Its belly was white, and a short thick tail sprung up from just above its hind legs.

The deer approached the trap, its black nose in the air. It could smell the sweetness that lingered in the air. It approached closer, eyes trying to discern what the source of the aroma could be. It locked onto the bundle of grass and bounded over. It reached its tongue forward, getting a few mouthfuls. The sweet black liquid ran down its chin as it chewed. It devoured the grass greedily. It took a few minutes to chew the last of it and went to step away.

Crack!

The sharp crack of the snare branch being pushed to its limit sounded as the deer started to struggle against the rope. It was attached to the animal’s leg and held tight against it. Garreth and Mathias quickly charged into the clearing. The buck reeled at their sudden appearance and tried to go the other way. The snare held fast. Garreth unsheathed his blade and grabbed at the animal with his other hand.

It was on the offensive now. It lowered its head and swiped at Garreth. He was close, he could smell the grass on its breath. The swipe went to the side and Garreth readjusted as it tried again. This time the antlers glanced harmlessly off of his armor. He managed to get an arm around its neck and quickly moved the blade across the front of the deer.

It bucked wildly as the blade met its flesh. Blood bubbled out from behind the wound. It dripped down the deer’s neck and chest, marring the brown and white it encountered on the way down. The deer gasped as it began to lose strength. Garreth held the deer in place. He kept a firm grip on its neck as more blood gushed from the wound. The deer kicked its snared leg weakly and a minute later, it was dead.

Mathias handed Garreth a smaller blade. They strung the deer up against another tree and drained its blood. Garreth removed the organs and Mathias skinned it. He peeled its flesh off in a clean motion, his hands and forearms pinkish red from the viscera. They followed their trail back to the horse and propped the deer up on the back of the saddle. Mathias held the skin in his lap.

They traveled on for a few more hours, stopping once to wash the deer’s blood from their clothing and armor. Finally they saw the chimney smoke in the distance. Briar.

Briar was a small town, Garreth was right about that. Most of the homes and buildings that filled the settlement were wooden, clearly made from the thin wood of the trees that littered the nearby area. A small cart could be seen going up the road ahead of them. Quaint fields of crops dotted the immediate surrounding area and Garreth knew the deer they hunted just hours before had a good chance to secure housing. These people were poor.

He was not close enough to see any townsfolk except for the man that drove the cart ahead of them. His head was uncovered, and a simple cloth shirt could be seen around his shoulders and upper frame. There were burlap bags in the back of the cart. Garreth figured it was probably some sort of grain. They followed the cart up to the mouth of the village. It was busy. People lined the streets and hawked their wares. Some exchanged silver and coin but most traded supplies they had.

Heads turned as they rode the main path of the village. These people were not used to seeing such a proud animal or warriors that were as well equipped as Garreth was. A small building, built more like a shack than anything useful, sat towards the middle of Briar. A crude wooden sign painted with “TAVERN” sat crooked next to the door. Garreth parked the horse outside and motioned for Mathias to follow him. They needed to talk to the villagers and learn where the Lamia lived.