“Sometimes, the trying is all that matters.” Gawain said softly.
The old wizard nodded, a little sadly it seemed, but for a moment Gawain thought he saw profound understanding, and gratitude, in those bright and intelligent eyes.
“It seems, my lord,” the wizard’s voice cracked, “It seems the good captain is preparing to leave. We are to journey with you to Jarn?”
Gawain was a little surprised by the question but didn’t allow it to show. “In the absence of any other orders from your crown…?”
“There are none, my lord, only to deliver the message or die in the attempt.”
“Then yes, I’m sure the Captain Tyrane will be glad to have additional arms and foragers at his disposal.”
Arramin stooped a little more in an arthritic bow, and Gawain strode as best he could with his own pains back down the road to advise Tyrane of his decision in respect of the party from Callodon Castle.
“Excellent, my lord,” Tyrane agreed promptly, and sent for Erik, the sergeant of the escort. “They can strengthen the van and flanks, and nip up ahead beyond your lady’s range.”
“Will our supplies support all of us now?”
“No, there are fifty four of us on the road now, my lord, but with the darkness destroyed we can afford to send out foragers when we rest. It’s only an hour or so ‘til the open plains, and another two days travel before we encounter the forest again, south of Jarn.”
“I remember that part of the road well,” Gawain gazed north, “I fought my first combat there.”
“Ramoths?”
“No, brigands. Though in truth that section of the road was also where I met Morloch’s vermin for the first time, too.”
“Then let’s hope neither are stupid enough to put in an appearance this time, if by some miracle any are left. Will you excuse me, my lord?”
“Aye Captain, to your duties.”
Tyrane strode off to give instructions to the sergeant Gawain had remembered from a year ago. It seemed so long now, so far in the past. Gawain took a deep breath, and let it out slowly as he looked around for Gwyn. He didn’t have to look far, she was standing in a clearing behind the half of the passing-place where Allazar sat deep in thought and Elayeen stood with her bow resting on her boot.
Gawain gave a mental grimace, flexing his legs and his back. Climbing into the saddle was going to take a deal more effort than he was used to.
“It’s time to move out,” Gawain announced to them both as he crunched across the gravel and Gwyn jumped the ditch, bobbing her head happily.
Elayeen made a sudden clicking sound, and her horse trotted along the road to stand obediently beside her. Both Allazar and Gawain moved forward to help her, but to their astonishment, she simply slung the bow over her back, felt for the stirrup, found it, and mounted unaided. A day ago Gawain’s aching heart would’ve burst with pride at the sight of her so independent, sitting proudly, waiting to move off, unaided.
A day ago, Gawain sighed to himself, could it only be a day ago? Yes. It was but one day since he had awoken, covered in mud from the quagmire, to see Elayeen gazing off to the southwest at the darkness of the Kraal. It had been the last time he’d watched her mounting her horse, Allazar assisting her. It had been the last time he had heard her true voice, and he, he had berated her for leaving her bow in the dirt.
This was only their fourth day on the road to Jarn.
27. Hurgo the Halfhanded
Tyrane’s estimate that the caravan would reach the end of the woodlands and emerge onto the open plains of Callodon within ‘an hour or so’ were quite correct, and Gawain’s stiff and aching muscles felt every bump, stone, rut, hollow, twig and cobble that Gwyn seemed to delight in stepping on. Of course, he realised, it was his own fault, she’d been saddled since yesterday morning, and while she’d been running up and down the road with the other horses yesterday, he’d been running around in the woods and then deigning to ride upon some foul wizard-made creature… He thought a silent apology to his horse-friend but it seemed to make no difference at all to his aches and pains.
Gawain glanced around him, pleased to be free of the woodlands now. True, the forest was still clearly visible to his left, slanting away sharply before them to the northwest, but everything east of north was now grasslands and gorse, though the summer sun had burned much of the green from it, and in spite of all the recent rains it looked drab and uninviting.
Eldengaze rode a little ahead of him to his left, Allazar to her left, as had become normal practice since leaving the foot of the mountain still visible in the haze above the trees in the south. The wizard Arramin, presumably in the absence of any orders to the contrary, rode with the rearguard, his nose still buried in his book and the odd-looking sapling-staff slung over his back with a makeshift fabric strap.
“Something wrong, my lord?” Tyrane asked quietly from behind Gawain’s left shoulder.
“No, Captain, just having a look around. We’re making good time now.”
“Serre Jaxon insists on running. I think our Gorian friends would like to put as much distance between the darkness and themselves as they can.”
At that, the voice of Eldengaze announced “All is clear.”
If Tyrane found anything remotely uncomfortable about her pronouncements, he didn’t show it. He simply nodded at Elayeen’s back as if he were acknowledging a report from a scout.
Gawain looked away to the east, briefly, before easing Gwyn back a little alongside Tyrane’s horse. “I don’t blame them, it was grotesque.”
“Terrifying,” Tyrane asserted. “The prospect of more those creatures being released upon the lands… it doesn’t bear thinking about. Do you believe it likely, my lord?”
Gawain glanced first at Allazar, still working on the ciphers, and then nodded. “I think we have far more to worry about now than simply the armies in the north, and they are worrisome enough. From what Simayen Jaxon has told us, it’s clear these creatures have been deployed in the Empire for years now. It’s only an opinion, but I think if Morloch still controls the dark wizards in Goria, then poor Arramin of the D’ith Sek may find himself pressed into service with the Westguard sooner or later.”
The road followed a natural ridge of sorts, and though the ruts were clearly visible either side of a hump of grass that grew between them, its lack of use was evident to all. The plains were reclaiming it, slowly but surely. A mile or so after leaving the forest, the escorting guards eased their horses off the road and onto the slightly softer earth either side of it, leaving just the wagons to follow the ruts which wound away into the distance.
There were no more passing-places; none were needed here on the plains where wagons travelling in opposite directions could simply move aside with ease. No more makeshift shelters either, in fact the only signs of recent use were the faint traces Gawain spotted here and there, made by Elayeen’s escort when she’d travelled south to Raheen from Jarn a little over a week ago. She herself gave no hint of recognition, and simply swung her gaze around from time to time. Gawain wondered how the world must appear to her here, with just the grasses and gorse around them, and occasional birds above. His fervent hope was that here, on the plains, with no darkness visible either to naked eye or eldengaze, Elayeen would return to him.
When Tyrane called a halt for a rest break, a few foragers were sent out to hunt for rabbits and hares. Gawain considered joining them when he saw that Allazar was still sat astride his horse, completely engrossed in his work and blissfully unaware of the goings on around him. Elayeen too remained in the saddle, slowly scanning the horizons. Easing Gwyn alongside her horse so that his left leg brushed against her right, he asked simply: