"Only Cowards Stay While Traitors Run"
Title: Only Cowards Stay While Traitors Run
Author: Rissy James
Characters: Cain/DG, Glitch, Raw, Tutor (includes other major and minor characters)
Rating: 14+ (subject to change)
Summary: The fade to black was merely the blink of an eye. Respite for only seconds. After all, the road is long.
Only Cowards Stay While Traitors Run
When Last We Met: Cain continues to follow DG south, trying to dodge both Royal Army and the New Resistance. Soon, they will reach the Ruby Mountains, seeking passage to the very ends of the Outer Zone, the shores of the desert sandsea, where they might find hope to save Lavender's life.
Author's Note: Sorry about the delay. Death and taxes. And computer issues. Not in that particular order. Still...
Chapter Twenty: The Rhythm of Rain
It was with great relief that Cain left the forest of the Eastern guild, leading the others on a direct route that took them out of the trees and back onto the bricks in a matter of hours; no steady wandering for a full day, no, not this time. If they put in two twelve-hour days, limited their rest without being too hard on the horses, they'd reach the foothills of the Ruby Mountains, farther south yet than the borders of Finaqua, in good time.
Easier said than done; what wasn't these days?
Their first night was spent on the southern edge of the Fields of the Papay, more green yet than he could remember and the treelimbs were still budding. The breeze that night carried the scent of fresh life from the fields, giving his heart more hope for the Zone than he'd ever thought to feel again.
Perhaps Bluesire was in sight of Central City by now; he'd departed the village long before the outsiders had gathered their things and bid goodbye to the Easterners who'd showed them such hospitality - their brand of it, anyhow. Cain couldn't rightly decide for himself if Bluesire's report to Azkadellia would do them any favours. Couldn't hurt, was all he could tell himself.
DG had sat with him that night, close enough for her arm to press against the length of his, for him to feel that warmth through the sleeve of his duster and know that he was as comforting a presence to her as she was to him, and he left it at that. He sent her to bed when she'd started to nod off, and she'd gone reluctantly. For all the hours that they'd sat together in the cool of summer night, fewer words were said. Didn't seem to be a need for them, not just then.
She'd said his name again, yawning after like it'd drained her. Wyatt. He'd looked down at her, and noticed she tended to pout her lips when she was tired.
It had kept him up, that had.
Field behind, gorge ahead.
The next morning was damp and the sky threatened rain. He rode most of the day accompanied by the chill that had crept inside his duster while he slept, which had woken him up to a dour mood; more so affected were his companions, short-tempered and sniffling. The overcast sky matched the pall that had descended over each of them, and just as the cover of cloud seemed to follow them south, they couldn't outrun their miseries.
The Route Patrol at the bridge spanning the gorge turned from nuisance to hindrance to out and out delay. So many damned questions. Cain sat back patiently, for the first while anyway, watching as DG and Glitch wove their true intention with sugar-coated alibi. Most to all was dependent solely on those sky eyes of DG's; there was no disbelieving when she fixed you with that wide open, honest stare - you'd most like believe in anything she told you, under that gaze. Like the possibility of pleading for a life at the gown's hem of the most powerful being to have ever walked the Zone. Yes, bull just like that.
The men who guarded the Route didn't stand a chance. He'd smirked at the thought, almost amused.
It'd be his last cheered moment for a long while to come, he'd know later on.
All said and done, it was close to an hour before he was hearing the sweet clamour of brick, and little else, once again. Midday passed with little more to mark it than a short rest, a drink for the horses. The sky continued to hold back her bounty, but the seams of cloud would break ere long, and they'd be drenched.
Gorge behind, marshland ahead.
He took them off the Brick Route, following a well-used byway that would take them 'round Finaqua, far away from maze and magic. How far south they would journey on this road, there was no telling. More than anything, he despised that particular uncertainty, and all its variations.
DG, and her Light, would be their compass. It had worked before, apparently, during the search for the emerald, didn't he remember?
He'd kept his mouth shut on what he remembered. Someone, somewhere, grant him patience.
There were, at least to his outdated knowledge, a number of passes through the Ruby mountains, if one was ever inclined to go so far out of their way as to get their eyeful of sandsea; he'd known precious few in his life who'd seen the empty desolation that surrounded the Outer Zone, and none who'd done it from a southern viewpoint. Still, it wasn't impossible to imagine that someone might live their life on the borderlands and never be known to the world, nor be disturbed by the passage of time; never hear of famine or war or emeralds, never know the Gales had regained power, or even know they'd lost it to begin with. Somehow, though, he doubted that'd be the case.
As it was, such meandering thoughts were driven clear from his mind as the road became bogged, the mire not too deep but enough to slow their progress; add to that, the noseeums were coming at him with a vengeance, so it was no wonder there was very little room for idle thought.
And so their afternoon stretched on.
Glitch was the first to finally break the silence with well-voiced complaints. Honestly, Cain would have included it with his growing list of annoyances, if he hadn't been so yearning for some sort of distraction to take his mind off the damp and the flies.
Marshland behind, marshland ahead...
The rain started late afternoon, taking care of the insect problem even as the cold droplets slid down their necks and into their collars. The absence of wind served in their favour, keeping the rain at their backs, but within fifteen minutes, it didn't matter. To the skins, they were all soaked.
The road grew muddy and their pace slowed all the more. As evening began to descend, faster for the cloud cover and the curtains of rain, Cain began to worry. They'd lost almost half the day to this miserable trudging.
A roof would serve them well, despite the cost and trouble to attain it.
There'd been marked on the map a town that they should've passed by that time; what was left of Ammenium after the purge of the Sorceress' war was anyone's guess, that much was certain, but unless he wanted to sacrifice well-being for miles travelled, there'd be little other choice. Farther south, there was nothing but Finaqua itself; the Realm of the Unwanted was to the west, and far placed out of their way.
He'd have them gather their bearings under a roof, have them sleep in beds. Even he was growing road weary. This damned rain.
He put it off for as long as he could, but when he found what little shelter he could near a stand of scraggly tamarack, Cain called for a stop.
"We should be thinking about callin' it quits for today," he said.
DG glowered at him, dismounting as he had. "Last time I heard that, I wound up flat on my back surrounded by hobgoblin rejects."
Cain rolled his eyes as Raw tried hide a snigger. Toto, for his part, growled at Cain's feet half-heartedly before slumping down into the mud and wet grass to rest, tongue lolling.
"Can't we keep going?" DG asked. "It can't be much farther."
"Much farther until what, Doll?" Glitch asked, trying his best against unkindness. "There isn't anything on the other side of the swamp except more road and more trees."
"And more rain," Raw said, shivering in his furs.
"That isn't so," Cain said. "Ammenium's only a few more hours southeast of here. Only a bit of a detour."
DG looked uncertain; Glitch pulled a face.
After a long minute of awkward silence, in which the loudest sound was the beat of rain against the brim of his hat, DG sighed, flicking her eyes in his direction as she said, "Are you actually suggesting we find a town to spend the night in?"
Another pause, and then Raw spoke up. "Is it safe?"
Cain snorted. "'Bout as safe as anything else we've done this past week. We keep our heads down and leave before dawn, aren't many people that'll take note of us."
Glitch took the opportunity to tug at his collar, though it wouldn't stretch any higher to cover more of his throat. "Might be a good idea to get out of this rain. Stabling the horses might not be a bad idea, either."
DG looked from face to face; she even took a moment to glance down at the damn dog, who took her attention as a cue to stand up and shake the water from his fur. Frowning, she sighed, and conceded.
"If it means getting out of this rain, then."
History repeats, and sometimes it likes to do it often. There was never any getting away from it, and Cain had always known this. Sometimes, however, he found it necessary to remind himself to focus on what set it apart from every same old return to same old.
He wondered how lucky they'd be coming out of it this time 'round.
He had plenty of time to think about it as they pressed on toward Ammenium. The muddy road that had made its way through open, soggy fields eventually led over a creek that snaked back on itself time and time again. The road cut a straight path, a series of timber bridges spanning the lazy, stagnant flow. Raindrops disrupted the surface of the murky water; there was no judging the depth.
It was all familiar, even if he had no memories of crossing this particular creek, which wound its way to a particular lake in this oft untravelled expanse, where the trees of the thick, untamed forest began to encroach on the banks. Familiarity wasn't in their surroundings, not in the trees or the water or even the infinity of the grey, weeping sky. It was in his understanding; in his heart, in all their hearts. Not just the urgency, but the inescapable obligation that chased them forward. While their individual pursuits might divide them, what bound them was more compelling a drive.
The night ahead would be a long one. Rest, as it happened, was the farthest thing from his mind.
Showing up in Ammenium meant taking a risk, and though Cain had expected Raw to at least voice concern if not outright object, that the others had yet to worry about little more than lost time didn't escape his notice. Far from slipping his mind, Bluesire's warning of factious insurgents farther south rang clear and loud at the fore of his every move and thought.
He didn't need to worry about DG. Raw would draw the eye faster than she; it'd take the right person to get a good look at her to cause any sort of fuss, and even then, there was the off chance that even then, nothing would come of it. DG, wet and wrung as she was, could hardly command a likeness to any grainy, black and white photograph out of a two-month-old issue of the Central Gazette anyhow.
Still, their luck had never been known to hold out; this rain, however, and the miles they'd lost today, gave him reason to wonder if they were due for a bit of a break.
Predictable, though, as an hour went by, same as any other had that day; predictable it was that sky darkened and the rain picked up. The trees did little to shelter them, as the road had widened out of the bog. The constant drone of water drops through the branches above them, leaves still tightly furled; a beat that held no rhythm, no semblance of order, nor of chaos, either. The second hour saw very little change, but for the growing dark.
It was almost by chance that they finally came across the well-marked fork that opened the way to Ammenium Township. Another hour and the woods would be so dark as to hide any evidence that the road branched off at all. Cain wanted so much to pick up the pace, ride full out until they reached the lights of the village, but he had no idea what would greet them when they arrived. A night watchman was the best possible scenario he could hope for; it was entirely possible that they'd run up against some kind of fortification, a gate or a tower perhaps. In the emerald-haunted annuals, there'd been no such thing as paranoia. Even now, this far off the route, there still wasn't.
Finally, there was a tinge of wood smoke in the air.
"Don't need to remind anyone to stick close, do I?" Cain called out to the others behind him, not bothering to turn around.
No response, though DG heaved a put-upon sigh that was audible even over the rain.
I hear you, Princess, I hear you.
Before a quarter of an hour had passed, the forest began to thin, and not much longer that that, they were quite suddenly out of the woods, at the edges of overgrown fields sectioned off by broken fence. The road narrowed some, and surely enough, was flanked by two blinds on rickety scaffolding, torches hissing and dancing in their brackets.
A boy, no older than his son, was sitting on a rung of the ladder that gave access to the blind. His rifle was left leaning up against the scaffolding, out of immediate reach. The kid, looking like a drowned rat, was bored out of his skull, so lost in his own thought that he didn't hear the approach of horses until Cain and the others were nearly upon him, on the very edge of the wavering circle of light cast by the torches.
"That rifle isn't gonna do you much good over there, boy," Cain said, by way of a greeting.
For what it was worth, and that was very little indeed, the kid jumped a clear three feet away from the ladder, scrambling to gain his footing. It was another moment before he was reaching for his firearm; Cain rolled his eyes, mentally noting he could have drawn his own gun and shot the poor bastard dead twice by that time.
And never once did the kid pull the hammer back from its half-cock notch. Cain, however, didn't doubt for a second the kid could hit his mark.
"Saw a sign saying empty rooms," Cain said when the boy did little more than aim a barrel at his chest.
"What's your business here?" the kid asked, voice steadier than Cain would've first guessed.
"No business. Got a bit turned around, 'bout every lake looks the same around here."
The kid's lip twitched, but he caught himself before a smile broke out. "Need a guide, then?"
"Nope, just a few rooms."
Lowering his barrel a few inches, the kid gestured a chin over his shoulder. "I bet them down at the inn would be glad for the business. Can't miss it on the left, big building, only one with paint."
Cain nodded. "Much obliged to you."
Stepping back, the kid let them pass into Ammenium. A dirt road led to a row of wooden structures that seemed to have sprung up fully formed from the ground, and so close together that they almost looked to be leaning on one another for support. A number of side streets were crowded with houses, the only evidence of their existence the lights that burned in their windows, barely visible through the steady rain.
As the kid had said, the inn was by far the easiest to pick out, coloured lanterns hanging from the eaves of the roof that covered the wide porch. A back building near the edge of the forest was what Cain hoped to be a barn or stable where he could put up the horses. He didn't like the thought of leaving them hitched out in the rain.
Before he went inside, he turned on Glitch and DG, huddling close together. "I don't wanna see either one of you talkin' to anyone, you understand?"
Glitch blew out a breathy, offended exclamation. "Yeah, I don't wanna see a'either one of ya telling no strangers of our secret plans, ya hear?" His deep, slow drawl in obvious imitation made Cain scowl, but there was no point in arguing and he left his four companions shivering on the porch.
As it turned out, the inn had more space for horses than for people riding them. The three rooms he rented were all that the place had, small but clean and warm, serving their purpose. The inn-keeper, grizzled and half-drunk, paid close attention to DG as she climbed the stairs after the others, but it was to Cain's displeasure to know that it was due more to her wet, clinging slacks than a familiar face.
Once the others were safely put away in their rooms, Cain saw to the horses, and it wasn't until he was inside of the stable and the animals were penned that he heard the distinct rush of a shift, and Tutor had cleared his throat. Half-turning, Cain saw him lingering just inside the door, a great bulk of shadow.
"What do you want, pooch?"
"What would give you the impression that I do," Tutor mused. "Want something, that is."
Cain snorted, and went back to hanging tack. "You don't volunteer to talk to me unless there's a reason."
"Yes, well..." And here the old man trailed off, never seeming to want to get around to his point, no matter how pressing. For a number of very long minutes, all Cain heard was the drum of rain on the wood plank roof, and the rustling of the horses in the stalls.
Gods, but did he hate waiting.
"Tomorrow we let DG take lead," Tutor finally said, as conversationally as if there'd been no overly thoughtful pause. "We could be there in as little as four days."
Cain frowned. "There? Where is there, exactly, do you even have a guess?"
"My guess is as good as yours, Mr. Cain. How good is your guess?"
A hard sigh, and then, "And you think DG is going to know which way to go."
Tutor came forward a few steps, still far enough out of the lamplight as to hide his features. Learning, it seemed, to keep his distance from an observer such as Cain.
"DG is sensitive to things you and I could never imagine, as I'm sure you're well aware by now," Tutor said, deftly patronising. "Raw, too, perhaps, but DG is more than sensitive to it, she's - she's -"
"She's curious," Cain said, smirking.
"Aptly put, Mr. Cain." Tutor gave a low chuckle; it seemed out of place, as the man was usually so solemn. Without another word, he turned on his heel and headed out of the stable, disappearing as quickly as he'd shown up, leaving Cain with a deep set worry that had long since started gnawing at him.
A strong gust of wind barraged the roof with rain. Cain looked up, half expecting water to come leaking in, but it was solid.
Out east, his barn still needed shingling.
Sighing heavily, Cain lifted the lantern off the peg and blew out the flame.
Table Of Contents
One - Two - Three - Four - Five
Six - Seven - Eight - Nine - Ten
Eleven - Twelve - Thirteen - Fourteen - Fifteen
Sixteen - Seventeen - Eighteen - Nineteen - Twenty
Twenty One - Twenty Two - Twenty Three - Twenty Four - Twenty Five
Twenty Six - Twenty Seven - Twenty Eight - Twenty Nine - Thirty
Thirty One - Thirty Two - Thirty Three - Thirty Four - Thirty Five
Thirty Six - Thirty Seven - Thirty Eight - Thirty Nine - Forty
Author: Rissy James
Characters: Cain/DG, Glitch, Raw, Tutor (includes other major and minor characters)
Rating: 14+ (subject to change)
Summary: The fade to black was merely the blink of an eye. Respite for only seconds. After all, the road is long.
Only Cowards Stay While Traitors Run
When Last We Met: Cain continues to follow DG south, trying to dodge both Royal Army and the New Resistance. Soon, they will reach the Ruby Mountains, seeking passage to the very ends of the Outer Zone, the shores of the desert sandsea, where they might find hope to save Lavender's life.
Author's Note: Sorry about the delay. Death and taxes. And computer issues. Not in that particular order. Still...
Chapter Twenty: The Rhythm of Rain
It was with great relief that Cain left the forest of the Eastern guild, leading the others on a direct route that took them out of the trees and back onto the bricks in a matter of hours; no steady wandering for a full day, no, not this time. If they put in two twelve-hour days, limited their rest without being too hard on the horses, they'd reach the foothills of the Ruby Mountains, farther south yet than the borders of Finaqua, in good time.
Easier said than done; what wasn't these days?
Their first night was spent on the southern edge of the Fields of the Papay, more green yet than he could remember and the treelimbs were still budding. The breeze that night carried the scent of fresh life from the fields, giving his heart more hope for the Zone than he'd ever thought to feel again.
Perhaps Bluesire was in sight of Central City by now; he'd departed the village long before the outsiders had gathered their things and bid goodbye to the Easterners who'd showed them such hospitality - their brand of it, anyhow. Cain couldn't rightly decide for himself if Bluesire's report to Azkadellia would do them any favours. Couldn't hurt, was all he could tell himself.
DG had sat with him that night, close enough for her arm to press against the length of his, for him to feel that warmth through the sleeve of his duster and know that he was as comforting a presence to her as she was to him, and he left it at that. He sent her to bed when she'd started to nod off, and she'd gone reluctantly. For all the hours that they'd sat together in the cool of summer night, fewer words were said. Didn't seem to be a need for them, not just then.
She'd said his name again, yawning after like it'd drained her. Wyatt. He'd looked down at her, and noticed she tended to pout her lips when she was tired.
It had kept him up, that had.
Field behind, gorge ahead.
The next morning was damp and the sky threatened rain. He rode most of the day accompanied by the chill that had crept inside his duster while he slept, which had woken him up to a dour mood; more so affected were his companions, short-tempered and sniffling. The overcast sky matched the pall that had descended over each of them, and just as the cover of cloud seemed to follow them south, they couldn't outrun their miseries.
The Route Patrol at the bridge spanning the gorge turned from nuisance to hindrance to out and out delay. So many damned questions. Cain sat back patiently, for the first while anyway, watching as DG and Glitch wove their true intention with sugar-coated alibi. Most to all was dependent solely on those sky eyes of DG's; there was no disbelieving when she fixed you with that wide open, honest stare - you'd most like believe in anything she told you, under that gaze. Like the possibility of pleading for a life at the gown's hem of the most powerful being to have ever walked the Zone. Yes, bull just like that.
The men who guarded the Route didn't stand a chance. He'd smirked at the thought, almost amused.
It'd be his last cheered moment for a long while to come, he'd know later on.
All said and done, it was close to an hour before he was hearing the sweet clamour of brick, and little else, once again. Midday passed with little more to mark it than a short rest, a drink for the horses. The sky continued to hold back her bounty, but the seams of cloud would break ere long, and they'd be drenched.
Gorge behind, marshland ahead.
He took them off the Brick Route, following a well-used byway that would take them 'round Finaqua, far away from maze and magic. How far south they would journey on this road, there was no telling. More than anything, he despised that particular uncertainty, and all its variations.
DG, and her Light, would be their compass. It had worked before, apparently, during the search for the emerald, didn't he remember?
He'd kept his mouth shut on what he remembered. Someone, somewhere, grant him patience.
There were, at least to his outdated knowledge, a number of passes through the Ruby mountains, if one was ever inclined to go so far out of their way as to get their eyeful of sandsea; he'd known precious few in his life who'd seen the empty desolation that surrounded the Outer Zone, and none who'd done it from a southern viewpoint. Still, it wasn't impossible to imagine that someone might live their life on the borderlands and never be known to the world, nor be disturbed by the passage of time; never hear of famine or war or emeralds, never know the Gales had regained power, or even know they'd lost it to begin with. Somehow, though, he doubted that'd be the case.
As it was, such meandering thoughts were driven clear from his mind as the road became bogged, the mire not too deep but enough to slow their progress; add to that, the noseeums were coming at him with a vengeance, so it was no wonder there was very little room for idle thought.
And so their afternoon stretched on.
Glitch was the first to finally break the silence with well-voiced complaints. Honestly, Cain would have included it with his growing list of annoyances, if he hadn't been so yearning for some sort of distraction to take his mind off the damp and the flies.
Marshland behind, marshland ahead...
The rain started late afternoon, taking care of the insect problem even as the cold droplets slid down their necks and into their collars. The absence of wind served in their favour, keeping the rain at their backs, but within fifteen minutes, it didn't matter. To the skins, they were all soaked.
The road grew muddy and their pace slowed all the more. As evening began to descend, faster for the cloud cover and the curtains of rain, Cain began to worry. They'd lost almost half the day to this miserable trudging.
A roof would serve them well, despite the cost and trouble to attain it.
There'd been marked on the map a town that they should've passed by that time; what was left of Ammenium after the purge of the Sorceress' war was anyone's guess, that much was certain, but unless he wanted to sacrifice well-being for miles travelled, there'd be little other choice. Farther south, there was nothing but Finaqua itself; the Realm of the Unwanted was to the west, and far placed out of their way.
He'd have them gather their bearings under a roof, have them sleep in beds. Even he was growing road weary. This damned rain.
He put it off for as long as he could, but when he found what little shelter he could near a stand of scraggly tamarack, Cain called for a stop.
"We should be thinking about callin' it quits for today," he said.
DG glowered at him, dismounting as he had. "Last time I heard that, I wound up flat on my back surrounded by hobgoblin rejects."
Cain rolled his eyes as Raw tried hide a snigger. Toto, for his part, growled at Cain's feet half-heartedly before slumping down into the mud and wet grass to rest, tongue lolling.
"Can't we keep going?" DG asked. "It can't be much farther."
"Much farther until what, Doll?" Glitch asked, trying his best against unkindness. "There isn't anything on the other side of the swamp except more road and more trees."
"And more rain," Raw said, shivering in his furs.
"That isn't so," Cain said. "Ammenium's only a few more hours southeast of here. Only a bit of a detour."
DG looked uncertain; Glitch pulled a face.
After a long minute of awkward silence, in which the loudest sound was the beat of rain against the brim of his hat, DG sighed, flicking her eyes in his direction as she said, "Are you actually suggesting we find a town to spend the night in?"
Another pause, and then Raw spoke up. "Is it safe?"
Cain snorted. "'Bout as safe as anything else we've done this past week. We keep our heads down and leave before dawn, aren't many people that'll take note of us."
Glitch took the opportunity to tug at his collar, though it wouldn't stretch any higher to cover more of his throat. "Might be a good idea to get out of this rain. Stabling the horses might not be a bad idea, either."
DG looked from face to face; she even took a moment to glance down at the damn dog, who took her attention as a cue to stand up and shake the water from his fur. Frowning, she sighed, and conceded.
"If it means getting out of this rain, then."
History repeats, and sometimes it likes to do it often. There was never any getting away from it, and Cain had always known this. Sometimes, however, he found it necessary to remind himself to focus on what set it apart from every same old return to same old.
He wondered how lucky they'd be coming out of it this time 'round.
He had plenty of time to think about it as they pressed on toward Ammenium. The muddy road that had made its way through open, soggy fields eventually led over a creek that snaked back on itself time and time again. The road cut a straight path, a series of timber bridges spanning the lazy, stagnant flow. Raindrops disrupted the surface of the murky water; there was no judging the depth.
It was all familiar, even if he had no memories of crossing this particular creek, which wound its way to a particular lake in this oft untravelled expanse, where the trees of the thick, untamed forest began to encroach on the banks. Familiarity wasn't in their surroundings, not in the trees or the water or even the infinity of the grey, weeping sky. It was in his understanding; in his heart, in all their hearts. Not just the urgency, but the inescapable obligation that chased them forward. While their individual pursuits might divide them, what bound them was more compelling a drive.
The night ahead would be a long one. Rest, as it happened, was the farthest thing from his mind.
Showing up in Ammenium meant taking a risk, and though Cain had expected Raw to at least voice concern if not outright object, that the others had yet to worry about little more than lost time didn't escape his notice. Far from slipping his mind, Bluesire's warning of factious insurgents farther south rang clear and loud at the fore of his every move and thought.
He didn't need to worry about DG. Raw would draw the eye faster than she; it'd take the right person to get a good look at her to cause any sort of fuss, and even then, there was the off chance that even then, nothing would come of it. DG, wet and wrung as she was, could hardly command a likeness to any grainy, black and white photograph out of a two-month-old issue of the Central Gazette anyhow.
Still, their luck had never been known to hold out; this rain, however, and the miles they'd lost today, gave him reason to wonder if they were due for a bit of a break.
Predictable, though, as an hour went by, same as any other had that day; predictable it was that sky darkened and the rain picked up. The trees did little to shelter them, as the road had widened out of the bog. The constant drone of water drops through the branches above them, leaves still tightly furled; a beat that held no rhythm, no semblance of order, nor of chaos, either. The second hour saw very little change, but for the growing dark.
It was almost by chance that they finally came across the well-marked fork that opened the way to Ammenium Township. Another hour and the woods would be so dark as to hide any evidence that the road branched off at all. Cain wanted so much to pick up the pace, ride full out until they reached the lights of the village, but he had no idea what would greet them when they arrived. A night watchman was the best possible scenario he could hope for; it was entirely possible that they'd run up against some kind of fortification, a gate or a tower perhaps. In the emerald-haunted annuals, there'd been no such thing as paranoia. Even now, this far off the route, there still wasn't.
Finally, there was a tinge of wood smoke in the air.
"Don't need to remind anyone to stick close, do I?" Cain called out to the others behind him, not bothering to turn around.
No response, though DG heaved a put-upon sigh that was audible even over the rain.
I hear you, Princess, I hear you.
Before a quarter of an hour had passed, the forest began to thin, and not much longer that that, they were quite suddenly out of the woods, at the edges of overgrown fields sectioned off by broken fence. The road narrowed some, and surely enough, was flanked by two blinds on rickety scaffolding, torches hissing and dancing in their brackets.
A boy, no older than his son, was sitting on a rung of the ladder that gave access to the blind. His rifle was left leaning up against the scaffolding, out of immediate reach. The kid, looking like a drowned rat, was bored out of his skull, so lost in his own thought that he didn't hear the approach of horses until Cain and the others were nearly upon him, on the very edge of the wavering circle of light cast by the torches.
"That rifle isn't gonna do you much good over there, boy," Cain said, by way of a greeting.
For what it was worth, and that was very little indeed, the kid jumped a clear three feet away from the ladder, scrambling to gain his footing. It was another moment before he was reaching for his firearm; Cain rolled his eyes, mentally noting he could have drawn his own gun and shot the poor bastard dead twice by that time.
And never once did the kid pull the hammer back from its half-cock notch. Cain, however, didn't doubt for a second the kid could hit his mark.
"Saw a sign saying empty rooms," Cain said when the boy did little more than aim a barrel at his chest.
"What's your business here?" the kid asked, voice steadier than Cain would've first guessed.
"No business. Got a bit turned around, 'bout every lake looks the same around here."
The kid's lip twitched, but he caught himself before a smile broke out. "Need a guide, then?"
"Nope, just a few rooms."
Lowering his barrel a few inches, the kid gestured a chin over his shoulder. "I bet them down at the inn would be glad for the business. Can't miss it on the left, big building, only one with paint."
Cain nodded. "Much obliged to you."
Stepping back, the kid let them pass into Ammenium. A dirt road led to a row of wooden structures that seemed to have sprung up fully formed from the ground, and so close together that they almost looked to be leaning on one another for support. A number of side streets were crowded with houses, the only evidence of their existence the lights that burned in their windows, barely visible through the steady rain.
As the kid had said, the inn was by far the easiest to pick out, coloured lanterns hanging from the eaves of the roof that covered the wide porch. A back building near the edge of the forest was what Cain hoped to be a barn or stable where he could put up the horses. He didn't like the thought of leaving them hitched out in the rain.
Before he went inside, he turned on Glitch and DG, huddling close together. "I don't wanna see either one of you talkin' to anyone, you understand?"
Glitch blew out a breathy, offended exclamation. "Yeah, I don't wanna see a'either one of ya telling no strangers of our secret plans, ya hear?" His deep, slow drawl in obvious imitation made Cain scowl, but there was no point in arguing and he left his four companions shivering on the porch.
As it turned out, the inn had more space for horses than for people riding them. The three rooms he rented were all that the place had, small but clean and warm, serving their purpose. The inn-keeper, grizzled and half-drunk, paid close attention to DG as she climbed the stairs after the others, but it was to Cain's displeasure to know that it was due more to her wet, clinging slacks than a familiar face.
Once the others were safely put away in their rooms, Cain saw to the horses, and it wasn't until he was inside of the stable and the animals were penned that he heard the distinct rush of a shift, and Tutor had cleared his throat. Half-turning, Cain saw him lingering just inside the door, a great bulk of shadow.
"What do you want, pooch?"
"What would give you the impression that I do," Tutor mused. "Want something, that is."
Cain snorted, and went back to hanging tack. "You don't volunteer to talk to me unless there's a reason."
"Yes, well..." And here the old man trailed off, never seeming to want to get around to his point, no matter how pressing. For a number of very long minutes, all Cain heard was the drum of rain on the wood plank roof, and the rustling of the horses in the stalls.
Gods, but did he hate waiting.
"Tomorrow we let DG take lead," Tutor finally said, as conversationally as if there'd been no overly thoughtful pause. "We could be there in as little as four days."
Cain frowned. "There? Where is there, exactly, do you even have a guess?"
"My guess is as good as yours, Mr. Cain. How good is your guess?"
A hard sigh, and then, "And you think DG is going to know which way to go."
Tutor came forward a few steps, still far enough out of the lamplight as to hide his features. Learning, it seemed, to keep his distance from an observer such as Cain.
"DG is sensitive to things you and I could never imagine, as I'm sure you're well aware by now," Tutor said, deftly patronising. "Raw, too, perhaps, but DG is more than sensitive to it, she's - she's -"
"She's curious," Cain said, smirking.
"Aptly put, Mr. Cain." Tutor gave a low chuckle; it seemed out of place, as the man was usually so solemn. Without another word, he turned on his heel and headed out of the stable, disappearing as quickly as he'd shown up, leaving Cain with a deep set worry that had long since started gnawing at him.
A strong gust of wind barraged the roof with rain. Cain looked up, half expecting water to come leaking in, but it was solid.
Out east, his barn still needed shingling.
Sighing heavily, Cain lifted the lantern off the peg and blew out the flame.
Table Of Contents
One - Two - Three - Four - Five
Six - Seven - Eight - Nine - Ten
Eleven - Twelve - Thirteen - Fourteen - Fifteen
Sixteen - Seventeen - Eighteen - Nineteen - Twenty
Twenty One - Twenty Two - Twenty Three - Twenty Four - Twenty Five
Twenty Six - Twenty Seven - Twenty Eight - Twenty Nine - Thirty
Thirty One - Thirty Two - Thirty Three - Thirty Four - Thirty Five
Thirty Six - Thirty Seven - Thirty Eight - Thirty Nine - Forty