by Daniel Arndt
Gregor reached down to examine the remains of his fire prod. The tree snapped in two as the fire ate it away. Gregor threw the ends into the center building the fire up higher. Crouching next to the prince, he looked across the fire to the huntress beyond. Cass was under a distant whittling away a stick in her hand. The wood constantly built towards a sharper and deadlier point with each movement of her knife. Valente followed the knight’s gaze. Gregor nudged him.
“How did you piss her off?”
Valente bit down on his lip trying to find the right words. Gregor smile grew bold again, and he nodded knowingly.
“It’s good. She’s angry. It means she cares. She’ll come around. I’m sure.”
The large man looked down at the white hare beside the growing flames.
“While we wait for her to change her mind, why don’t we cook some dinner?”
The roasting hare sizzled releasing hearty wafts of its delicious aroma. Valente’s mouth pushed him closer to dehydration as it ravenously watered. Gregor cooked the game. Valente watched as the large knight guided the meat through the flame with expert precision. The heat evenly pampered the meat into a beautiful brown. Lifting it from the flames the knight gave it a stern look. Staring away all the imperfections Gregor nodded letting himself happily smile. Grabbing the still bubbling meat with his hand, he tore off the hind legs of the animal. Gregor moved the steaming batons of meat to the prince and handed both to him. Gregor pointed to the huntress who was shortening her new spear to non-existence.
“Peace offering.”
Valente held onto the legs. The heat burned against his skin, but with all the recent cold he did not mind the change of pace. He followed the guiding finger and looked at the whittling huntress. A nervous flutter danced inside his stomach overriding his hunger. Gregor nudged the prince onto his feet with his elbow. The force almost sent him airborne, but Valente caught himself. The prince brought the cool air into his lungs letting the sensation focus his mind. Valente stepped forward into the snow and began his walk towards the huntress. Gregor watched the prince’s long walk over with a satisfied grin. Plucking the hare from the spit he tossed it into his open hand. Using his already bared teeth he tore off a chunk of meat from the back of the hare and ate.
Valente stopped in the snow a few paces from the huntress. The tree she sat under coldly stared at him. She pretended to ignore him as she did everything in her power to focus on the stick she was gutting. Her cloak moved to make sure it was fully facing the prince. Valente nervously coughed half hoping to catch her attention and half hoping to settle his uneasy nerves. Cass whittled more furiously. The spear was quickly deteriorating into a pile of splinters. Valente looked down into his hand at the steaming legs. The cold air had stopped the hot sensation in his palms. Valente did not like cold food. Stepping beside the tree, Valente outstretched the meal beside Cass’s hood.
“Here. Something to eat.”
Cass stopped her rampant desecration of the wood letting the seconds dragged against the cold of the air. The line of aromatic steam dipped under the huntress’s hood. Her hand moved up over her shoulder and she yanked both portions of the food from Valente’s hands. Before she bowed her head to eat, she turned her head slightly to Valente keeping her eyes to the ground as she spoke.
“Thanks.”
The reply was colder and more distant than the crashing waterfall. Valente wavered where he stood. Cass balanced between eating and whittling paying no heed to the silently standing prince. Her coldly turned back made the prince grit his teeth. A burn moved under his skin and towards his curling fist. His mind bounced between anger and compassion. This peasant was driving his mind in circles and he could not understand it. Valente released his tightened gripped.
“I…”
am sorry.
Valente sighed out a white cloud of breath. He resignedly looked into the snow watching the wisps of white disperse. The cold air bit at his skin reminding him of the true cold of the mountains. He turned his back to the huntress with his eyes fixed on the outlying fire.
“You’re welcome.”
Valente stomped through the snow to the fire. The flutters of his stomach were replaced with a deep despair. Gregor caught his eye with a hopeful gaze and an encouraging grin. Gregor nodded after the quick look. The knight tore free a piece of the hare’s front legs and passed them to the prince.
“She’ll come around.”
This time Valente doubted the knight’s words.
-22-
Prevailing morning light advanced above the chilling fog and sparse woods below. The sun cast forth an encompassing glow that fell through the clouds and down to the group among the mountain’s rocks. The stone’s sharp, frigid touch grew ever softer as the group scaled down the final slope of the mountains. Cass had risen much earlier to scout the safest path, and it was now paying dividends in ease and speed. Gradually, the curve of stone melded with the land below uniting grass and rock. The three proceeded on to the welcome resilience of green that met them underfoot. The burden of frost further lifted from their bodies, and the warmth of the sun encouraged feeling back into their skin. Drumming to their march, the mighty river roared behind them as they departed from it.
The Araheil itself pierced northward forcing its body away to more rocky and treacherous lands. Cass’s path led the group through a much more traversable forest. Valente looked through the tangle of trees towards his guide. Her familiar hood bounced with each of her steps as her cloak of fur trailed behind her. She had been keeping a keen pace with barely a look behind her. She was remaining just fast enough to stay out of Valente’s sustained sight. Cass broke her weave through the trees to look around the woods giving a moment’s rest and an opportunity for Valente and Gregor to catch up.
Valente retreated his searching gaze to the giant following close beside him. The knight painfully cradled his blackened arm through his trudge. The abiding chill of cold constantly enforced an agonizing ache within it. Valente gave the knight a worried thought and thoughtful look. Gregor half-turned with a grin back, though at this pace the pain re-surged forcing his cheeks down over his smile. As the knight faltered through the torment and the forest, he threw the prince an unconvincing nod. Valente could do nothing more than return his own nod back. There was no time to exchange words. Cass stepped through the trees again pulling the two back into their march.
The frost of the air now fully melted away. The snow grew sprouts of green and soon the snowy grass became green with life and warmth. The evergreens grew sparser. Their more sun-dependant cousins took their place. Their orange leaves were radiant in the midday sun. The slow slope of the mountain curled and flattened as it opened up into the Farlosian Valley. Cass had stopped beside a small gathering of trees just on the edge of the fading forest. Gregor and Valente closed in behind her. Cass raised a hand the instant they arrived and pointed towards the north.
Here it was. The Grand Araheil River cut the very land, Farlos itself, in two. The border of Lios and Tharia was indisputable. Cass’s finger stretched out towards an extensive line of palisades on both sides of the river. The old walls had crumbled long ago, and simple wooden stakes were erected in their places, The Imperial Rising Star of Lios flew proudly on the South side of the river. The banner boldly plastered on nearly all the new wooden walls. To the north, the Platinum Crown of Honor embellished itself on the flags that reached to pierce the heavens. A mix of hope and pride welled up in Valente. He could not remember seeing such a beautiful sight. His eyes slightly drifted towards the huntress. Biting down he pulled his vision back over the Tharian palisades. He was close, and he had to focus. Cass’s calm voice sliced through Valente’s thoughts.
“The new palisades appear to run all along the river and up to the cliffs.”
Gregor let his brow curl in focus as he nodded.
“It looks heavily patrolled… more than it should be before harvest.”
The regimented soldiers all bore the silver glimmer
of Liosian armor. They marched, trained and lived among the large and scattered city of tents behind the wooden wall. Large carts of lumber, food, and ores were being moved through the mud-slick roads. The carts of lumber twisted around the tents towards large constructs. Valente’s eyes narrowed as he identified the contraptions.
Catapults, ballista… all siege equipment.
No more needed to be seen to understand that behind those Liosian barricades the soldiers prepared for war.
The group scanned the fortified river for any opening between its walls. Gregor grunted in disapproval of seeing no obvious doors or welcome signs. Cass remained silent and focused, but she brought out her braid feeling her hair under her fingertips. Valente slowly shook his head and shared their sentiment. The knight leaned on a nearby tree and attempted to close his crippled hand. He winced and uttered an impatient groan.
“That barricade has no weaknesses I can see. Heavy patrols. Hundreds of men. They even set up a palisade gate in front of the Eastern Bridge. I don’t know how we can get through.”
Cass anxiously ran her hand along her golden braid. She talked through a nervously bit lip.
“Even if we get close, those patrols will be on us before we can get over the palisades.”
Valente looked over the large line of wooden stakes that separated him from his homeland. The grass was definitely greener. The prince looked to Cass. Her body was mostly facing away, but from where he stood Valente could see the side of her face. A worried and sad line ran across her brow. Valente looked at the bridge. The trees seemed to reach out towards the palisade stopping short a couple hundred meters. A large contingent of tents was parked around it. Valente stepped up beside Gregor and Cass.
“I have a plan. It’s risky, but it’s either this or we run and jump the palisades.”
Cass turned her attention to the prince. Gregor thankfully smiled and beckoned the prince with his hand.
“Well, I have nothing. Let’s hear it.”
A pressure built on Valente’s shoulders as his companions expectantly listened. The prince cleared his throat to explain his plan.
“Everyone knows further West is the Farlos Trade Bridge. It’s one of the two bridges still open since the end of the war. Tharia has a massive fort there. They are probably expecting us to travel there and try to leap the border between the traffics. I highly doubt we could make it through.”
Valente’s excitedly bubbled into a smirk.
“Good thing there’s two bridges. Arthan told me the Eastern Bridge still takes simple resource trades; otherwise, it would disrupt industry on either side to make up the new travel distance. Hardwood from Tharia and Iron from Lios still cross the border. I think we can wait for a merchant cart or a caravan and we try to sneak in. Smuggle ourselves. Iron carts are massive and if we move fast, we can find a spot.”
Valente’s forehead scrunched up with his thoughts.
“I just hope they still let it through the border. Most of that iron could be used for weapons and if Lios is planning to attack, they might have stopped shipping it.”
Gregor rubbed the idea into his beard.
“If they are attempting to surprise Tharia, they might allow the shipments through to avoid raising caution.”
Gregor ran his fingers through his red mane.
“It’s risky for sure. The iron carts might be big enough to conceal me, and it’s better than any other option.”
Valente nodded.
“It won’t be easy, but I think we can make some luck if things go poorly.”
Valente let the fondness of the memory come to him.
“It almost feels like a lifetime ago, but Arthan once told me a story about some Heroes of Old. The Shadowdancer, Lady Galandel, and the Many-Faced Man were separated from the rest of their companions. Legions of the Dark stood between them and their goal. Much like these palisades, it was a daunting task. The Many-Faced Man told his two companions to give him their drinking flasks, and so they did. With the alcohol, he soaked a torn piece of fabric and placed it in the rest of the liquid in his own bottle. The Many-Faced Man grinned and said. ‘Fire is more than just a killer.’ The Many-Faced man threw the fire bomb onto one of the Leviathans. The resulting blaze caused chaos and gave enough time and a big enough window for them to make it through.”
Valente lightly shrugged.
“Albeit, barely.”
Gregor moved his hand free of his beard and took out his flask. His eager eyes looked to the wooden barriers.
“Those wooden palisades would burn easily. It has not rained in the flatlands for a good while. The fire could drag some patrols and leave an opening.”
The knight opened the cap of his flask and looked inside. With a quick swirl of the container, his excited demeanor faltered.
“I only have a few drops left. It’ll be more distracting if I walked up and drip it in their eyes.”
The building weight on Valente’s shoulders push them down into a slump. Before that had hit the bottom, Cass pushed her hood from her head and an inspired glint dazzled off her eyes.
“We can use something else.”
The dark and thick liquid crawled at the end of Cass’s blade as she held it in front of Valente and Gregor. The lethargic ooze seeped from the tree’s new wound. The huntress enthusiasm brightened her face.
“Black Sap.”
The prince watched the bead droop off the knife’s edge. Cass held out a hand towards Gregor. The knight complied and handed her a burning tuft of grass. With a simple tap, the flames leaped to life as they ignited in a brilliant flash. The knife’s metal glowed red under the engulfing fire. Valente looked in amazement as the liquid bubbled away under the heat.
“Incredible. It burns so easily. With this many trees, we can make more than enough in case things go poorly.”
Gregor smacked Cass on the back almost delivering her onto her knees. Valente winced reflexively. Gregor smiled through it all.
“Great thinking Cassy.”
Cass forced up a smile and let out a groan under her breath. Her gaze met Valente, now fully understanding the ‘encouragement’ Gregor often provided. For a moment their eyes locked sharing the mutual experience. Valente took in the deep green of Cass’s eye, but as quick as the moment had come it was torn away. Cass cast her eyes downwards. She coughed away an uncertain tremor.
“We should start making some firebombs. The sun is getting low.”
Gregor agreed and brandished a small blade from his belt. He found a new balance for his only arm. With a mighty grin, he wailed on the tree. Valente watched the quick precision of the blade. The dripping divots of black sap were made nearly instantly. Cass took a more measured approach and tapped trees with her hunting knife. Valente watched her deliberate movement. His body and gut urged him to move forward and to speak, but his mind was cold and stuck unable to form the words. Valente looked into his hands and the jagged rock he held in it. Heaving it up and down, he measured the stone’s weight.
I have to talk to her.
The prince looked at the bark of the tree and then over onto the barricades that were under the dull glow of the setting sun.
Soon.
Valente struck the tree with force letting the black sap begin its lazy drip. His hand lightly burned from the impact. A red line emerged on his palm. He looked at the tree and struck again embracing the pain.
The sun finally disappeared past the horizon of the Western Sea. Fading orange lines of illumination trickled away disappearing from the dark skies. The ghostly white wash of the moon’s light took its place.
Valente picked the cloth ball lathered in sap from off his hand. The black substance rose up on his hand trying to keep the ball in his palm. Valente pulled harder freeing it and holding the gooey ball with his fingertips. He balanced it between his fingers as he tried to negotiate a common ground with the sticky substance. Somehow it had bargained its way onto his eyebrow to his annoyed discomfort. Gregor laid his hand on the prince’s should
er. His red beard pointed with purpose at the torch-lit palisades. Gregor moved forward taking lead towards the outer layer of trees just outside of the camp. The cover of night allowed them to approach the border. The march of troops, however, continued strong throughout the darkness. Cass dipped in from the shadows as she pulled off her hood. A whisk of haste was mixed into her voice.
“Trade carts are moving towards the camp. There are about four covered wagons near the back. We could slip in and hide in them, but we have to be quick if we want to use the night and our distraction to our advantage. If we do this fast enough, we can get in and out without them realizing.”
Gregor nodded to each of his companions.
“Alright. Val. Cassy.”
Gregor crouched moving towards the road outside the camp. Valente moved from behind the tree letting his eyes run along the barrier once more. The wooden wall extended so far east and west and nearly all of it was brightened by the slivers of light the soldiers wielded. Valente looked to his hand and towards the dark mass of cloth and sap. His hand quivered with anxiety. The prince steadied himself. Cass moved her ball of tar on her makeshift torch letting the flame ravenously. Valente moved forward to join his companions.
“We can do this. Let’s go.”
The distant flames burned along the palisades. The flames moved down the outer wall almost as fast as the three had moved. Large contingents of Liosians panicked to quell the burning commotion. The three crawled far from the flames towards the spinning wheels of a cart. The blades of grass beside the dirt road provided weak cover. Luckily the night was dark. The clatter of wheels rumbled over the road. Laden with iron from the Liosian mines, the carts pushed towards the glow of the camp. Their drivers encouraged their horses with quick whips of the reins. The horses called out in the night and hastened their step. The ditch provided the three little comfort as they continued their crawl. Gregor did his best to pretend to be a roaming boulder. Cass kicked him in the leg to gather his attention as she stopped her crawl in front of him and the prince. The heavy wheels of the cart ran dangerously near to her head. She gently whispered letting the sound of the horses conceal her voice.