Blade of Champions

Chapter Seventeen: Full Moon

The moon was full.

They woke the others.

Karver scrunched his eyes tightly and stuck out his tongue against Hughell's prodding fist. 'I don't feel like getting up tonight,' he mumbled comfortably. 'I'd much rather stay here all cozy in my bedroll.'

Suddenly his eyes popped open and he gave Hughell an enormous wink. 'But considering I shredded my bedroll up to make that rope, I guess I'd better put it to some use.'

And with that, he shot up and bounded away to get ready.

It took less than fifteen minutes to finish breaking camp. In that time, Hughell was surprised to find that the mood among them became light, almost jocular.

When Karver came tromping across the clearing with what looked to be half a ton of rope and leather hanging off him, Attagood looked up from saddling his horse and raised an eyebrow ominously.

'I herebye declare, Karver' he growled, 'if my girth breaks later on I'm coming after yours. You'll be the one who's walking.'

Karver patted a suspicious portion of the rope smugly.

Attagood's eyes bulged. 'Is that – one of my stirrup leathers?'  

The young man grinned. 'What can I say, Goody? I ran out of rope for the foot loops.'

Attagood could only shake his head, muttering something under his breath that could be either vengeful or admiring.

Hughell had just turned his head to hide a smirk, when Attagood slapped him on the back, startling him.

'At least your stirrups look to be intact,' the older man said as he leaned away, his face as serious as a gravestone. But there was a gleam of laughter in his eyes.

Hughell snorted a laugh. For the first time, the realisation hit him that he'd truly become part of the group. He leaned against Favour's sleek shoulder and looked over at the other three, seeing them with new eyes.

They were no longer simply four people with a common purpose. They were siblings with a shared heart, willing to face a shared death for sake of those who were yet to see that a light had come for them.

'Bring it in, guys,' Nadoli beckoned to the four knights, who gathered in a tight knot, their horses beside them. Around them, the clearing stood bare and empty in the lunar light. Few signs remained to betray their stay, though it had stretched on for some weeks. They had been extremely careful. 

A hot wind blew from the north, ruffling Nadoli's hair against her neck.

'I cannot tell you how this night will end,' she began quietly. 'Only that triumph will be ours, whether in life or in death. To some this may be a feeble assurance, but to us it is the promise on which we stake our hope.'

She placed a hand on the knight's shoulders either side of her.

Hughell could feel it trembling through the sleeve of his tunic, but her voice held steady.

'We came here to set some captives free. This night, let's do it.'

With a final squeeze and a pat, the circle broke and mounted, each one intent on their own thoughts. Now that the preparations were finished, there was no longer place for chatter and idle jesting. In single file they moved with all swiftness through the trees, following the path Hughell had memorised a hundred times over.

At the appointed clearing, Hughell halted and swung down, tethering his mount to a ready branch. 'Leave the horses here,' he whispered, and the others obeyed without a sound.

They continued from there on foot. Hughell cringed at the amount of noise the others were making, Karver most of all. Biting his lip, he resisted the need to snap at the man. Considering the weight wrapped around his waist, the knight was doing his best.

All too soon, Hughell recognised the landmarks he was looking for.

With a final glance behind to make sure the others were watching, he darted forward and launched himself up the sloping, white-marked trunk of a massive oak tree. Up and up he clambered, dancing from foothold to foothold, grabbing at branches to steady himself.

Up here, the trees enveloped one like a cloud, heavy with the fragrance of pine. The bark felt hot beneath his hands and sap stuck with every grab.

Behind, the others were following suit with nearly as much speed. He had warned them about this part, and they had taken his advice to practice. Climbing trees in the dark does not come naturally to most.

Still, to the other three it was a strange few minutes, clambering on and on after that winding, glowing trail; at times dropping down to land on a different branch, or pulling straight up a trunk to a new level of the forest maze.

The wind sighed through the leaves, covering the sound of their puffing breaths.

Abruptly, Hughell came to a stop, perched like a squirrel on the massive branch.

He looked back.

As planned, Karver was right behind him, his face looking strangly pale and ghostly in the silver light.

'I'll go ahead,' Hughell mouthed. 'Scout it out. Be right back.' And he loped away on all fours.

They were very close now, he knew. Just one small drop, then down a gently sloping branch, work your way around a broad trunk and...

Hughell froze, his mind reeling.

Below him lay a vast encampment of evil. Row upon row of dark tents stood among the trees, their black shadows crisp against the silver grass. A gust of hot air ripped through the valley, humming a sinister tune among the ropes. In the centre of the camp, a black flag crackled in the wind, proclaiming to all who might look upon it that this was the domain of the Shadow Warriors.

Thankyou for reading! I had far too much fun writing this story, but my hope and prayer is that you'll inherit even a little of this fun when you read it. My next chapter will be posted on Saturday.

Until then, stay brave.

G.S.