The sun began to break the mountainous horizon to the far south, the light shining through the trees. It shed itself onto the grizzly scene of an encampment covered in bodies, a sea of black clothing, blue and green speckled here and there, armor covering many of the corpses.

Jeshin stood up from the corpse slowly, exhausted, her form back to its normality. She looked around, her group looking at her with different looks. Some seemed fearful and others were ashen faced. Vara came up to her side and helped her up, her blonde braid almost glowing in the sunlight. Jeshin leaned on the elf as they walked away from the grizzly scene.

Joshua and his team seemed to have been down here fighting with the rest of the group, as he was covered in blood and had a long bloody gash on his arm. He and Norvor were directing members to drag their own dead outside, away from the death-strewn camp, while Kor'lo puffed away at his long stemmed shell-pipe. Jeshin could see Cossack sitting on a large rock, surrounded by bodies with caved in heads and broken limbs. He closed his eyes and gave Jeshin a small, slow nod, his mouth curved in his small smile.

Jeshin nodded Vara toward the largest tent of the camp. 'That way. Let's see what he was hiding.'

'Alright there, luv, we'll take our time so ye don't get winded again,' Vara said to her quietly.

'Thank you, Vara, I'm grateful. I saw what you did to that bald windbag. He seemed like a handful.'

Vara chuckled. 'Tis nothin' I've dealt with before. Men like 'im are all bark, no stamina. They poke ye a few times and think they've won th' world. My ex-husband was much the same.' At that last comment, Vara chuckled again.

Jeshin snorted and smiled down at the elf. 'I wonder if your husband also got an hewn.'Vara's eyes glitter as she smiles mischievously back at Jeshin. 'Oh, aye, he went much the same way, luv. But t'was a rope, not an axe, as he got carted off by a particularly *nasty* horse.' At that, she laughed, the blood and grime on her face belying the humor in voice with the reminder of her morbid profession.

Jeshin inclined her head. 'Well, either way, you got the fucker, so it's your win. Think of a reward you want and tell me later,' she told the elf.Vara nodded. 'Oh, aye, I plan on it!'

They stopped in front of the tent, and the two brushed the heavy flaps inward as they peered inside. As they stepped inside, Jeshin could see an easel, canvas half-painted of a woman, a large table, and a cot. The woman in the painting was bruised and battered, but staring at the observer with a hesitant expression. Just past it was the woman who had been apparently been in the process of being painted. She peered through her long, dirty black hair at the two of them, curled up against the corner of the tent, shivering.

Jeshin waved for Vara to go to her, who then proceeded to go to the woman's side, gently approaching her and talking to her lightly, with an upbeat tone to her voice asking her name, that she was ok now, and more. Jeshin turned toward the table, which was covered with maps, ledgers and two letters. She perused the maps, frowning at the information on it.

A figure that looked like a red knight seemed to be on a road, turned toward what looked like a walled castle and city. The names on the map was one she was familiar with: Castle Astwin and Stovisholm. The home of General Erdvin Astwin, of the Kovash Imperium. When she was young, he had patroned her and helped her to study knowledge in his own home. His wife had died from the labor of delivering their newborn daughter. She couldn't remember either of their names, but she could remember the newborn's fiery red hair and the huge smile she always had.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

She took up the letters and skimmed through them. Noticing details, she took a closer look at them, reading them from start to finish, then placed one heavy hand on the table, holding her head with the other. The map made more sense to her now that she looked at it. The red knight was probably Count Gorlan, mentioned often in the letters, a maniac prone to killing on a whim just because it suited his mood. She heard tales of how his "boredom" caused deaths of entire families, chosen at random and tortured.

Vara came back into the tent, having taken the woman outside of the camp, and noticed Jeshin's grim-set face.'Tha' look doesn'na look good, luv. What's goin' on?', she asks quietly.

Jeshin takes a moment, then looks at the elf. 'We're in for a long ride today. We have a lot of ground to cover.'

As she stands up from the table, Vara hurries to her side and helps her up.

'I dun think you're quite ready for a run, luv. Even if it's urgent, ye can barely move as is. Ye need rest first.'

Jeshin shakes her head at that. 'No, Vara, I'll do my best to keep up, but we need to move now.'She and Vara gather up the map and papers, and with a pause, she notices a small wooden chest with a lock. The chest lid was engraved with the form of a bee, marred but still stark against the grain. She smiles, unamused, and grabs a hold of the chest, taking it with them.

They step out of the tent and into the morning light, the looted corpses left to the already-circling children of Ma'liksa. Their own number were already on pyres, burning high up into the sky, tears on some faces, sad smiles on others. As they step outside of the Black Kamber's camp, they all look toward Jeshin with the ease of veterans on another gentle stroll through the woods.

'Are you all ready for another battle?!' She yells out to the crowd. Her lieutenants grin, and the rest of the remaining six of their band cheer uproariously, tired but ready for more.

'Then we have a hard ride! Try and keep up, will ya?!' Jeshin cries out, as she already begins to jog toward the eastern mountain ranges.

The others scrambled up the hill and toward their horses, passing by the shouting form of Uporin, his hands tied around the thick trunk of a tree.

________________________________________________________________________________

They traveled for nearly a week, through valleys and across rivers, the hillsides clear and spread far, until they came out onto a grassy plain, plateaus marking the landscape sporadically. Their wounds had begun to heal with the help of Kor'lo's sea magic, and within days they were fit as if they'd never fought in the first place. The band didn't stop often to take breaks, but the few they did were spent telling and laughing at stories of their fallen companions.

Joshua had been quiet after placing his lover on the pyre, but joined in and began telling a story about how he and his love had once stopped an entire pirate crew from invading a port town, using only their wits and dressing up as immortal ghosts, bent on haunting the beachside. The group laughed when he told the funny parts of the story, and murmured in appreciation at the dramatic ones. No one believed him, but he insisted it was a true story, though he wouldn't name the port that it had supposedly happened.

The woman they had brought with them from the encampment was chuckling along with the rest, smiling gently at the red headed man.

Jeshin pored over the map she had taken from the Black Kamber encampment, memorizing every detail, every marking. One of the saddlebags was stuffed with the papers and letters, and she perused them by firelight every night. Each time she read one of the letters, she marked notes on the map, detailing what she had learned. She based the timeframe of their arrival on where they were in relation in the Swaying Plains, the expansive plateaus and grassy plains just west of Castle Astwin.

Vara came up to Jeshin and handed her a wooden plate, heaped with potatoes and vegetables, the few pieces of venison they rationed out steaming on top. Jeshin nodded to her, and continued her work, one finger tapping on the small, foldable table they kept with them. Vara sat, cross legged, as she looked at the map with a frown.

'Stovisholm? I've heard o' the place. It's supposed ta be a good place to rest,' she says with a thoughtful tone. 'Mm,' Jeshin grunts out softly, thinking.

'So, if we're supposed'ta fight, why in such a peaceful place?' Vara quirks one eyebrow at her, playing with her blond braid absently.

Jeshin sighs. 'From what I can gather, a good friend is going to have a bad time, and I'm aiming to be there before it happens. Although, I'm not sure we'll be there in time...'

Vara nods. 'Aye, it takes some time to get through the Plains. I'm sure we'll get there just in time for the fun to begin.' She grins at that, stretching fluidly from where she sat. 'After such a long ride, we could all use a good brawl'.'

Jeshin shrugs, her brow furrowed. 'Agreed..'

That night, the band could see a cheery red far to the east of them, lighting up the horizon on the plains.

________________________________________________________________________________