Endless trees. Lakes. Very few animals, mostly squirrels, birds. And a bunch of damn mosquitos. I complained about my hands itching not five minutes into our trek across the woods beyond the village gate.

Trent had insisted on running as soon as he got out the gate. If people saw us coming out of there, it would ruin the plan, he said. We needed to pass off as merchants from Fuoril’s city. Once we were far enough, we resumed a walking pace and stayed along the trail. A stone path marked the way to the eastern villages that carts used, and we walked right along it. The more we tried to stand out, the less suspicious we’d seem.

A squirrel passed in front of me and I nearly tripped.

“Don’t drop the tank,” Trent whispered.

“I know.”

The sound of an owl hooting and the chirping of crickets made me anxious for some reason. Maybe because it muffled the silence and I was trying to listen for the clopping of horse hooves. I could feel myself getting cold feet. If I was being honest, Holy Knights scared the shit out of me. I still remembered being bound by that one guy’s Divine Restraint and unable to do anything.

A clod of clopping interrupted my thoughts. Speak of the devil.

“They’re here. Act like merchants,” Trent said sharply.

We continued walking normally, pretending not to hear them when they emerged from the shadows of trees, their annoyingly bright silver armor with gold streaks marking their presence. Like clockwork, they unsheathed their swords and asked their usual set of questions.

Trent didn’t waste any time. “My good men. We are delivering this tank of gas to Casselberry. I know it is late, but it was an urgent request and we had to leave before even securing a horse. If you gentlemen are heading that way, we would appreciate a lift.”

One of the knights took off their helm. “I am Sam, the squad leader. Who requested this tank?”

“I forgot to ask their name, but it was a robust man with scars across his face. I believe he said he was a captain.”

“Captain Donhol, huh?” Squad Leader Sam muttered.

“Sam,” another knight said. “The captain doesn’t order things himself. Could be one of the new guys. You know, the one with scars on his face.”

“Alright, stay still while we search you.”

The men spread out and approached us, hands ready to pat us down. The one who took off his helm put it back on.

A search?!

Fuck! Why did I listen to Trent?! Words aren’t getting us out of this!

I knew this was coming, but I couldn’t stop myself from freaking out. My heart rate shot up. Though my hands trembled, I thought back to my fight with the wolves and prepared a getaway strategy. I slid a hand down my crotch where I kept my cards and got ready. Waterballs wouldn’t do much to their armor, so I’d create a huge tidal wave while they’re on their horses and yell at Trent to book it and—

“Search us?” Trent interrupted my thoughts. “We’ve never been treated like this in all my years of service to Master Iskariot.”

The squad leader put a hand up to stop the others. “Iskariot? Who exactly are you referring to?”

“Commander Reno Iskariot.”

Trent made a gesture with his right hand, moving up and down into a circle, suggesting a silent praise to a deity of some sort. The knights made the same gesture.

“So you’re acquainted with the old commander.”

“Of course. I’ve been his private merchant for years. And this is my assistant. Did something happen to him?”

The knights went silent for a while. Finally, Sam made a hand signal and nodded to the others. Two of the knights scooted up so Trent and I could sit behind them. Sam offered to take the tank and Trent readily accepted.

“It’s a long story. I’m sorry, but Lord Iskariot is no longer with us. Alright, men,” Sam said. “It looks like we’ll be escorting these two to the base. I’ll inform the captain of our change of operation while they make the delivery.”

I can’t believe his crazy plan worked. Wait, does this mean they’re really in league with the bandits?

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

As I mounted the back of a horse and wiped a drop of cold sweat off my face, I let out a near-silent laugh. Trent was a damn genius.

* * *

I couldn’t relax the entire way. I held onto the knight’s armor far more than I would have liked as we went over hills. Though we took the stone road, at some point, the road died and became grass. Then past a thicket of trees, there was a clearing and soon, two cliffs connected by a narrow, rickety bridge. Down below over a hundred feet, a river flowed. One look down and my soul ascended to heaven.

The bridge felt unstable. It swayed from side to side. Each horse had to cross slowly. There were cracks along the wood and some of the large gaps between two planks marked the sheer age of the bridge, likely years since any maintenance was done on it. I couldn’t believe someone would risk their lives to cross it.

Halfway through, Trent coughed and I looked his way to see what was up. He cocked his head to face the mountain to our left. It was large enough to span across both sides of the cliffs and tall enough that I couldn’t see its peak. I shrugged because I didn’t know what he meant, but he looked forward again.

Weird.

“Don’t grab on so tightly, boy,” the knight in front of me said with a chuckle. “We’re not going to fall.”

Like I want to grab onto a dude’s back.

Only twenty steps away, directly above the river, our horse split one of the planks in half and we nearly sunk. It neighed and propelled itself upward with its hind legs. Surprisingly the horses in front of us didn’t react. I almost gave into a scream but the horse was already adjusted. It made me think this kind of thing happened frequently.

As the last horse got on solid ground, Sam took a tally of the busted planks.

“Three this time,” he whined. “Must be the extra weight. I’ll add that to my report and request maintenance.”

Ah, so they do fix it when it breaks.

Horses approached from the road ahead, stopping us right in front of the bridge.

“Squad Leader, remove your helm,” a gruff voice called out. Twenty Holy Knights had us surrounded before we could get closer.

“It’s Sam,” Sam said, following orders. He held his helm at his side and raised his left hand in a salute. “Captain, I have a report for you.”

“Give it to Calomy. I have three squads with me. We’re heading west for recon. Who’s that with you?”

“Oh, these are merchants, sir. They have a delivery of natural gas for us. This one’s acquainted with the old commander.”

Captain Donhol put a hand to his chin. “I see. Who requested the gas?”

“I thought you would know, sir. Maybe the new guys?”

Donhol clicked his tongue. “Now they’re going behind my back? I’ll deal with them after we return. Go.”

Donhol snapped his fingers and the first horses started advancing on the bridge.

“Careful, sir. Three planks broke this time,” Sam called out. Donhol waved him off.

We arrived at a town that looked straight out of a wild west movie just beyond the walls around the gate. Old buildings decorated the streets, some one-story and others two. They sat on thick wooden platforms a few feet above ground and were lined wall-to-wall. The residential areas were marked with a sign and were hidden behind trees with a narrow trail. They were given goofy names like ‘Old Widow’s Street’ and ‘Barfing Dog Boulevard’.

The streets were still active at night. The shops had people going in and out and lights posted on every street corner and near windows. It was a really small town. If I’d been reincarnated here, I’d have thought it was a nuclear testing ground or a science experiment funded by the government. Anyway, the main attraction was the huge base at the end of the shopping district with watch towers and spiked walls taller than most of the trees, around twenty-five feet. Holy Knights came out and the gates closed quickly.

“There it is,” Sam pointed. The horses galloped ahead and Sam took out a card out of a satchel around his waist and held it up. Someone high up in the watchtower spied down with a pair of binoculars and let out a sharp whistle. Then the huge walls split open. Inside were several square barracks and smaller adjacent buildings, one of which was a warehouse.

By the looks of it, the townspeople didn’t go near the knights' station. Not that they’d get in without a form of ID like the one Sam brought out.

Wonder if anyone from town will come out if there’s an explosion, though.

I shook my head. Why was I spacing out? Trent had been trying to get my attention for a while now, it seemed. Once inside, he’d been giving Sam an earful about insisting on putting the gas himself and completing the delivery.

“That’s what I did for Master Iskariot. A delivery isn’t complete unless I put the merchandise in order.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, merchant,” Sam waved him off.

“At least allow me to accompany you,” Trent emphasized. Sam’s face reeked of concern.

Yeah, he’s hiding something.

“You’re pushy. Fine. This way.”

He got off his horse and pulled the neck rope, moving the horse to a big stable. Most of the knights were in the barracks as it was nighttime. A thick smell of beef broth lingered in the air. Were they having dinner?

Sam’s squadron didn’t stick around. Enticed by the smell, they parked their horses and chased a whiff through the center barracks, pushing the doors and disappearing inside. I got a second’s glimpse of what was going on. Knights without helms waited in line for food served by women with hair nets handing out bowls of soup on trays. Drinks were served by the barrel and knights sat in cliques at small tables.

I felt a sense of ease and followed Trent and Sam to make the delivery at the warehouse. We were greeted by two men and allowed inside.

Things are going well.

Yet as soon as that thought entered my mind, my hands started trembling.

Calm down. Everything is going to plan for once.

Why couldn’t I calm down? My gut was yelling that I was in the middle of a fight, when the friendly warehouse guards had already gone back to banter and Sam, Trent and I were looking for an empty space to finish the delivery.

A loud smack like metal hitting a hard surface echoed throughout the warehouse.

I curled my fist.

Ah.

I remembered now. Why I hated gut feelings. Because more often than not, they turned out to be right.

When I saw Trent fall to the floor for no reason, I knew it just couldn’t be this easy.