Southwind Knights

Chapter Two, Part 6

The company continued south without rest until twilight. As they marched, the Dragoncliffs grew, and no more songs were sung. Asher alternated between foot and saddle, fighting fatigue until Sir Victor called a halt one hour’s march from the passageway into the Cove.

The group took cover in the only place they could find in that desolate land: a small grove of dangerous looking trees, which Galen identified as honey locust. They were adorned with vicious thorns as long as Asher’s hand, and the company had to watch their steps for fallen branches.

The horses were corralled within the north end of the coppice, away from the mountains’ gaze, while Victor set a camp one-hundred paces south of the horses’ stench. Of course it wouldn’t have been a decision without Galen insulting Victor’s intelligence, and no one was surprised when he fussed over the campground safety. There were chuckles about the coward, and Victor ended up assigning sentry shifts to appease him. To be safe, Asher tied his mule near to Victor’s horse, andhe didn’t stray far to pee.

Barian was quick to gather the abundant brushwood and light a fire for Victor, who sat whetting his sword and knife. Asher squeezed as close to the warmth as he could but found it difficult with a dozen soldiers and their belongings taking priority. Galen sat alone under his cloak, far from the fire, black mustang bridled nearby. They disappeared with the setting sun.

Stories and wine were whispered and passed around the fire. The stars flickered into being. Shivering, Asher scarfed a bread roll and as soon as it was down he mashed his pack into a pillow and curled up to sleep. Drifting off, he reflected on his day and estimated the length of the journey. The redness had probably risen past Finn’s knee.

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