Chapter 2 - The Long Road

Much to Eloise’s chagrin and grumbling, they rode down the countryside road under freezing rain that refused to let up. It didn’t take much of a genius to discern that Eloise wasn’t used to traveling in such conditions. The rain didn’t bother Celia—her salamander cloak emanated a constant warmth that banished any feelings of discomfort. The rain also meant it would be harder for any of Lugo’s lackeys to track them. Of course, scum of their level would hardly go through such an undertaking for a now-deceased leader.

The boy tied to her back shifted, mumbling incoherently. He would’ve died tonight if not for Eloise’s intervention. She had earned her title as the world’s most talented physician twice over.

“That was messy,” Eloise said. “Too messy. We can’t keep getting into fights like this. I didn’t even get to eat.”

Celia chuckled softly. “Would you really trust anything that came out of his kitchen?”

Eloise sniffed and turned her cheek. “Well, unlike you, I haven’t eaten since dawn.”

“By your own choice,” Celia pointed out. “We can find a bite to eat later. For now, we need a plan for the boy.”

The two broke away from the main road and led their horses down an overgrown footpath. It was nearly impossible to see in the dark, but Celia had absolute trust in her mount. They had been through these parts many times before.

“Well,” Eloise said, her face barely discernible in the shadows, “we can’t just leave him. I’ve never done an implant like that before, and I need to be sure he’ll be okay. I don’t even know if he’s going to make it through tonight.”

As Eloise finished speaking, they rounded a hill. A small barn stood against the gloomy backdrop of the Artoran wilderness.

They both dismounted, leading their horses to the barn on foot. It was just one of their many safehouses spread all over Artora. Unfortunately for them, it wasn’t much better inside, as the walls did little to hold back the night’s chill. But it was infinitely better than spending the night under a bush.

“Place the boy on the table,” Eloise said, throwing her riding cloak over her mare.

He was light, Celia realized. But she wasn’t complaining. Had Lugo fed the poor boy at all? Once she had done as Eloise demanded, Celia looked to getting a fire started. There was a stack of thankfully dry firewood in the corner, and there were enough holes in the ceiling to not worry about any trapped smoke.

In under half an hour, they had something of a camp going. The two sat around a blazing fire, warm and dry. And although Eloise made the occasional grumble about hunger pangs, the scowl had faded from her face.

Celia looked up from the flames and at the delicate little thing waddled up beside the fire. “So, what are his chances?”

“Theoretically, if he makes it past the night, his body might have a chance to acclimate to the new organ.” Eloise paused, then added, “but no one’s ever done this sort of surgery. Or at least it’s never been recorded. Don’t get your hopes up. You can’t save everyone, Celia.”

The boy moaned softly, his lips parting.

“Even if he survives,” Eloise continued, “how would he make a living? I may have been raised in wealth, but even a pampered noblewoman like me knows there isn’t a place in this world for a peasant with a crippled hand.”

“A monastery then?” Celia suggested. “There’s bound to be someone willing to take in a poor soul like him.”

Eloise nodded hesitantly. “Not in Artora. There’s not a hint of kindness in this wretched kingdom. I know some priests in Gransvelt who might be able to take care of him. The boy would need to dedicate his life to the scripture, though.”

Celia snorted. “That would beat starving by a long shot, I imagine.”

“I suppose,” Eloise said, yawning. “But we can worry about all that in the morning. And Archons forbid, we might not even have to worry about it all.”

“Archons forbid,” Celia repeated. “Get some sleep. I’ll take the first watch.”

“Right,” Eloise said, yawning again. “Thanks for that. But I’m not sure I’ll even be able to get a wink of sleep. I’m famished.”

Despite her words, the noblewoman was sound asleep only minutes later. Eloise wouldn’t like it, but Celia figured she might as well prolong her turn to the entire night. Her kind didn’t need sleep, or rather it was more of a luxury than a necessity.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

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In the morning, the boy woke. He looked around before shrinking into his blankets like a frightened mouse. Celia turned to him with the best smile she could muster, which she admitted wasn’t particularly inviting. “Your name is Rain, I take it?”

The boy, Rain, nodded, but his eyes were fixed on Eloise. “During the fight. . . she disappeared. How did the lady do that?”

“The name is Eloise,” a sleepy voice rang out. The noblewoman yawned and stretched her arms. “And it was magic, boy.”

“My mother knew some magic, but it was just soothing bruises and headaches.” Rain looked down at his mangled hand. “I don’t think she’d be able to heal this.”

Eloise’s face softened. “Does it still hurt?” she asked. “I could do something for the pain.”

Rain shook his head. “No, it doesn’t hurt,” he said, examining his hand over the fire. “There’s a little aching, but I think I can handle it.” He froze up, then buried his face in his hands. “I died, didn’t I? But I’m still here, breathing. Is this magic too?”

Eloise snorted, a rather unladylike gesture for her. “Magic can’t bring people back to life, although I’m sure many a fool has tried. Frankly, you shouldn’t even be alive right now. I suppose I seriously underestimated my skills as a physician.”

“Thank you,” Rain said. “But why did you save me?”

“How old are you, boy?” Eloise asked, rising to her feet.

“This is my fourteenth year, I think.”

Eloise smoothed out her crumpled dress, then sighed. “Do I need a good reason for saving a child?” she inquired, peering down at Rain with her usual haughty look. “By the Archons, you should at least act your age. No tears of joy or gratitude?’

He fell silent.

“That’s enough talk,” Celia cut in. “Let’s get this camp cleared and head out. I’m sure the both of you are starving.”

Eloise turned to her horse with a grunt. “Starving is an understatement.”

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It was a cold but thankfully clear morning as they rode out of the dilapidated barn. Rain clung to Celia’s back, his face noticeably pale. It was clear he had never sat on a horse before, much less one like hers. Hardly surprising, most peasants would go their entire life without ever having laid eyes on a breed like Iota. He was a rare one-of-a-kind Gransvelt Pureblood. His coat was pure black, and it towered over Eloise’s demure mare.

They rode in awkward silence, and although that suited Celia just fine, she could see Rain start to get angsty.

“Who are you people?” Rain asked. “I don’t think any ordinary people would be able to beat Lugo.”

Celia looked back over her shoulder at Rain. “You’re right. We’re hardly ordinary people.”

With a bored face, Eloise fell back to ride alongside them. “We’re Hunters,” she simply said. “At least we were until recently.”

“A Hunter?”

“Skilled individuals who make a living hunting down beasts of the night,” Eloise explained. “Not just anyone can become a Hunter. You’ll need to register with the guild, and they only accept the best of the best. After swearing the Oath of the Hunt, you’ll need to apprentice for half a decade under an experienced Hunter.”

Rain furrowed his brows in thought. “So, are you two not Hunters anymore? I don’t mean to pry,” he added hastily.

Celia frowned, remembering the incident that had put them at odds against senior Hunters. “We had a disagreement with the Guild, and they saw it fit to have us stripped of our titles. An outright dismissal is an extreme form of punishment saved for the most vile of Hunters, but those bastards were pretty much looking for any excuse.”

“But you haven’t stopped hunting monsters?” Rain asked.

“No,” Celia admitted. “Nothing else for us to do. I suppose Eloise could always go back to her family, but she wouldn’t be fond of the idea.”

Eloise grunted in agreement. “Neither would my family. If they saw me now, trekking in the wilderness with company like yours, they’d turn in their graves.” She glanced at Rain. “What about you, boy? Do you plan on returning to your family? They’re across the Vale, no?”

They rode on for a few moments in silence as Rain appeared to think it over. “I don’t know if it’s possible,” he finally said. “Last time we traveled through the Vale, it cost my father his entire life savings. But it would be nice to see my mother again.”

“Travelers ahead,” Eloise called, guiding her mare to the side. Celia ushered Iota behind her.

Likewise, the other party also pulled into a single file to the side of the road. There were around ten of them, all dressed in a local lord’s livery and bearing weapons at their belts.

“What news do you bring of the road ahead?” the soldier at the head of the line asked. Although he appeared to be the youngest of the soldiers, it was clear he was in command. His fine fur cloak and the burnished breastplate were evidence enough.

“There was some heavy rain last night,” Celia replied cordially. “But the roads should be clear, if not a little muddy.”

The soldier frowned. “Did you stop at any inns?” he inquired. “We’ve received reports of brigands masquerading as innkeepers. Would you happen to know anything about it?”

Rain opened his mouth, but a restrained elbow to the gut from Celia stopped him in time. “No,” she replied. “We weren’t able to beat the rain, I’m afraid. We did, however, come across an abandoned barn with an intact roof. Thank the Archons for that.”

The soldier’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded. “Thank the Archons indeed,” he repeated. “Keep your eyes peeled travelers, these are no times for young ladies such as yourselves and a child to be traveling in.” And with that and another curt nod, the soldiers moved on.

“Why didn’t you tell him?”Rain asked once the soldiers were out of earshot.

Celia chuckled grimly. “Two frail ladies such as ourselves vanquishing an infamous brigand? They’d haul us in under the suspicion of insanity.”

“But wouldn’t you be able to beat them?” Rain asked. “They didn’t look as strong as Lugo.”

“Your former master was a different case. He was arrogant, and I used that to my advantage. His friends weren’t very skilled either. On the other hand, a detachment of professional soldiers is something even the most experienced of Hunters would take seriously. But we had no quarrel with those soldiers, and I’m not one for starting fights I can’t win.”

“Yet,” Eloise chirped. “I could use a good brawl right around now.”

Celia shot the elegant noblewoman a dirty look. “You mean watching a good brawl.”

Eloise shrugged innocently. “Are you suggesting a pampered lady such as myself should be rolling around in the mud with the commonfolk?” She raised a hand to her heart in mock outrage. “Why, with my valiant protectors at my side, I have nothing to fear. Isn’t that right, boy?”

“I’ve never been in a fight,” Rain said softly. “Lugo didn’t trust me with a sword or anything bigger than a pocketknife.”

“All the more reason you should train with one,” Celia said. “Get handy with a blade, and you won’t have to serve under bad men like Lugo.”

Rain smiled. “I would like that.”

“My offer still stands,” Celia called out to Eloise. “I hear it’s become the norm for noblewomen in Gransvelt to learn the art of the blade.”

“Mundane swordsmanship doesn’t interest me,” Eloise said, tossing her dark hair back. “I’ll just remain content being the useless one in our happy little party.”

“You can use magic,” Rain pointed out politely.

Eloise grinned. “Sometime soon, I’ll show you just how useful it is to have a magician in the party, boy.”

Celia urged her stallion forward. “I don’t look forward to that day,” she said gravely.