"Drink it all, my dear," Rinna said, giving the potion to Aela. Some explosions resounded at a distance. However, Rinna paid them no attention, concentrated on serving her pupil.
The girl had woke up with an intense headache. The pair of wine cups she had taken the night before was just too much for her. She wasn't used to drinking liquor even less than the strong wine that she had at that tavern.
Tricia was famous for its many taverns and saloons, particularly along the narrow street known as the drinks' pathway. That is where sailors from all over came to drink and celebrate when visiting the city.
Tricia was the seat of the busiest port on the mainland of eastern Pelair. Ships from the islands of Isamar and Newfoundland, and from the distant continent of Antair, anchored on its roadstead to download all kinds of goods and spices and, in turn, bear Terrara's export products. These goods were then hauled to smaller vessels and taken to the rest of the kingdoms of western and southern Pelair.
The war had put a halt to that trade, and the port usually active and full of boats, looked now rather lonely and off. However, some deals still took place between Terrara and the islands located just north of the coast.
"Rinna, what happened last night?" asked Aela between timid and fearful.
"Don't you remember?" replied her guardian with a tender smile.
The memory of the conversation with that man in that tavern came to her mind. The reminiscence of an indescribable feeling in her mouth made her blush against her own will. The truth is that she now remembered with clarity, her mad attempt to kiss him.
"Did I go crazy last night?" she wondered to herself, feeling the blush on her cheeks would ignite into flames.
"So you do remember," affirmed with a curious smile Rinna, noting the blushing on the girl's face.
Of course, she remembered. Now she remembered everything. Two glasses of wine weren't enough to inebriate anyone. However, she had used it as a pretext to get closer to Brando.
The wine had disinhibited her so much as to make her think such madness might have even worked.
"What were you thinking, imbecile?" she scolded herself. "A man kissing another man?" How could I have forgotten?" she asked herself with her head bowed in shame, trying to evade the scrutiny of her mentor. She had full assurance that Rinna knew.
"Your time will come," said tenderly and with affection, the woman, getting closer to the girl and gently patting her head. She then put the girl's head on her lap and caressed her short hair.
"Oh, Rinna!" Aela sobbed. "How could I have been so stupid? What a shame! I hope I never see him again," she said vehemently, knowing she wanted the opposite.
"That's alright, child. Don't beat yourself," Rinna reassured her. "It was only an incident."
Aela raised her eyes to peep into those of her mentor to see if her eyes gainsaid the faint tone of mockery; she thought she detected in her words.
"Something is happening in the city!" expressed Balin alarmed, storming into the room to the grateful relief of Aela. That ended the silent inquiry Rinna subjected her.
The three stepped out on the little balcony that faced the street.
The lodge was located just outside Tricia, by the road that led to the south. It was a two floors old house with wooden roof and walls made of tree trunks lined one over the other.
"What happens at the port?" Rinna asked the innkeeper that came running from the main street.
"The Duke Galahar has risen against the king, demanding the reinstatement of Queen Miralia to the throne," said the man concerned. "Surely prince Herald..., sorry, King Herald" corrected himself the innkeeper "will send his troops. That means the war has finally arrived in our city," lamented the man. "Who would have thought, Terrara's fleet attacking one of its cities? May the Goddess protect us," pronounced apologetic the man.
Galahar was the Duke of Tricia and had been a close friend of King Lugor, the late husband of Queen Miralia. He had demanded an audience with the queen when he had learned of her alleged abdication. Herald had refused to do that, so he assumed that finally, Herald had dared to carry out the plans he had long dreamed of getting a hold on the crown.
"I don't think it's safe to remain in town," commented Rinna to Balin. "Soon, there will be troops, and that means looting and violence. We cannot expose our protégée. In any case, there isn't much we can do to help."
Then, they quickly packed their few belongings, and paying the landlord the amount of their stay, rushed to leave town. They headed for the road that led towards the mountains.
Tricia was at a bay at the northern end of a peninsula of the same name. It was a wide strip of land that jutted from mainland Terrara into the Gulf of Pelair. A single road that skirted and generally followed the course of the Oroko River, which disembogued at the bay, communicated the city with the rest of the kingdom.
A large number of city residents flooded the road, joined by a host of villagers and farmers fleeing toward the mountains of Tricia, trying to avoid the upcoming war.
The battle for Tricia had already started. Catapult from Terrara's fleet hurled massive incendiary bolls aimed at the part of the city controlled by the forces of Duke Galahar.
The warships were equipped with devices that could throw at a considerable distance, large boulders covered with flat bags containing explosive powders. Some pyrites fastened to those stones, emitted sparks when slammed against their target, igniting the gunpowder and causing their outburst.
The Duke of Tricia, in turn, had his share of similar gadgets ready to defend the port. His troops also fired their deadly loads, thus impeding Herald's troops from eventually disembarking in the city.
Rows of wagons led by peasants with their entire families, including children and the elderly, and loaded with the few belongings they could carry, as well as poultry, cattle, sheep, goats, pigs, thronged the road that ran from the city. Many others were on foot carrying on their backs, heavy bundles with their belongings.
"It's unbelievable and sickening how the ambitions of one man affect the lives of many people," commented Rinna to her pupil. "This can only benefit the tyrant of The Triad," sentenced the woman.
Duke Galahar had ordered a contingent of troops to escort the busy road, to avoid the massive migration from becoming victims of the excesses of the bandits who abounded in those days of unrest in the region.
"Would you like a ride?" asked one peasant to Rinna, who had caught up with them with his cart loaded up to the last space. Beside him sat a woman with a pair of filthy young children on her lap, who looked at them with eyes of curiosity, and an elderly couple who sat embraced at the back of the wagon.
"You're very kind, but you don't seem to have space," Rinna answered.
"If you don't mind going perched up there," the peasant said, pointing with his eyes to the top of the mountain that made his belongings.
Thereby, the three travelers came to ride on the crowded carriage.
They traveled in this manner for about a week, camping during the days for shelter in the shade of a grove, when the inclement midday sun made it difficult to continue and to stop at night to sleep.
The voyagers finally reached a crossroads where the road forked in three different ways. One road headed directly east toward the mountains of Tricia, another one continued along the river towards the Oroko plains, and the third headed south, toward the Terrara's capital city of Azcangor.
"We'll continue towards the plains of Terrara. There's plenty of room for new settlers," said the peasant to Rinna. "What about you? Which road will you take?"
"If you don't mind, we could go along in the same direction," replied the woman.
"Rinna," said Aela. "We have to go south."
"But sweetheart!" complained the woman. "That's going straight to war."
"If anything, you taught me all these years," Aela said, "is that I must follow my intuition. Well, it tells me we should follow south."
Rinna knew for sure, destiny held something significant in the future of her pupil. That was the main reason she had taken the kid under her wing and had given her over the years, the mental and spiritual tools she believed would allow the girl to face her destiny, whatever it was. "Are you sure?" Rinna asked with concern.
"I don't know what, but something calls me in that direction," said the girl.
"Isn't by any chance our handsome gallant? Asked Rinna with a mischievous smile. They didn't even know what had been the fate of the young daredevil.
"Rinna!" cried the girl, nonetheless, blushing.
"It's just a bad joke," replied with affection, her guardian.
Rinna couldn't detract now from all she had taught her pupil for so many years of training, just for alleged security. This training had intended to develop in the girl, the strength to face the fate she was now consciously calling for the first time. At least this was the first time the girl manifestly invoked her intuition to do something.
"It seems, at last, the time has come," thought Rinna, yielding to the suggestion of her pupil.
Thus, they departed from the farmer and his group with gratefulness. The little ones, who had gotten attached to Aela, cried a lot. Faced with this family, the girl hadn't needed to hide her womanhood. She also shed her share of tears, but her decision was firm.
Despite the shortage that this family faced, they had, however, an ample array of clothes, so the peasant's wife gave them a slight tunic to each one, foreseeing the summer heat would accentuate as the trio advanced further south.
Aela received a sleeveless gown that allowed her ample freedom of movements. She wore under it; a sleeved robe that allowed her to reconcile the bracelets she carried around each of her arms. It was the only part of her body that the width of the jewels could be adjusted. The gown was also slack enough to hide the crystal dagger that the Lady of the forest of Magensa gave her in the cave. Aela never detached from it, since according to the words of Máire, it could mean her life. She complimented her outfit with wide raw wool pants and soft leather boots. She looked like any young countryman. Rinna and Balin wore similar attire, which did not differ from the rest of the few travelers who were heading south.
Soon, the caravan of travelers fleeing Tricia spread eastward toward the plains. Just over a dozen voyagers decided that their destiny would be Azcangor. Most of them had relatives over there, and some of them thought the war would tilt in favor of Herald, even if they were not his supporters.
After a few days of traveling, the small party arrived at a small hill with a grove of maple, beech and spruce trees. They decided to camp because it was already getting dark, and it wasn't wise to travel by night on those territories. One of the peasants cut the stem of a maple tree, and a shiny and thick amber liquid began to emerge from its entrails.
"Get close," he suggested. "It's delicious and very nutritious," he told his travel companions. "There is enough for everyone."
Aela approached and passed her finger across the cortex where that liquid leaked. She took it in her mouth and got ecstatic with its taste.
"It's like bee honey but from a tree!" she commented, smiling while recalling those little animals had stung her during her rite of the passage.
"It wasn't their fault," thought the girl. "They just followed their instinct for survival."
The voyagers set up camp and lit a small fire, in which they roasted some rabbits and a few partridges that Balin's skill had managed to hunt. Everyone admired the ability of the boy with the slingshot. To all, he was just a smart and resourceful lad.
Very early at dawning, while everyone was asleep, a herd of horses surrounded the small group from all directions, startling them up. The watchkeepers had fallen asleep, leaving the entire group at the mercy of bandits.
"Everybody up!" they heard a loud man voicing them. "Everyone at the center of the camp!" gestured emphatically.
The travelers awakening drowsy and confused didn't understand what was happening.
"Separate the men from the women!" ordered the captain.
They weren't bandits, but an advanced party of lookouts loyal to Herald who watched the ways of the north, alert to any possible advance by the troops raised by the Duke Galahar. They wore the distinctive uniform of Terrara's forces, consisting of tight black pants, black leather boots, and a blue jacket with wide lapels and gold-colored metal buttons.
It was an outpost of about thirty individuals, too numerous to be faced by this vulnerable group of travelers.
Men and women were separated into two distinct groups. Due to her appearance as a young countryman, Aela went into the male's wagon. It was too late to uncover her true gender.
Fearful of being alone for the first time in years, Aela reconciled and kept herself to the wooden bars in the corner of that wagon.
The caravan traveled in this manner for several days, only to do some overnight stops to allow the captives to feed. The meal consisted of a piece of hard bread, a slice of stale cheese, and a sip of water. The wagon carrying the women and children had fallen behind.
For the first time in many years since she had wandered alone through the forest of Angmar after her ordeal, Aela stood by herself apart, helplessly surrounded by men altogether. Some were laborers; others were travelers who came from Tricia, and there were even some bandits.
She found out that posing as a man in wartime, wasn't going to be as easy as it had been up until now. She even had to put on hold something as simple as relieving herself. All of the others had to do was to extract their member and urinate out of the wagon.
Fortunately, some spoiled food caused severe indigestion to some of those men. They were allowed to step from the carriage to do their needs on the roadside. Having no choice, Aela retreated a little to the dark forest, and ducking and hiding her femininity behind a thick trunk, finally relieved her needs.
On the morning of the fifth day, she saw a pair of towering wooden structures jutting out at a distance. They formed the towers of the bridge that connected the city of Azcangor with the North of Terrara. It was a magnificent, majestic bridge that hung over the Snake River, which after traveling hundreds of leagues from its source in faraway Magyar, disembogued into the Gulf of Pelair. It had been built with thick, sturdy oak logs that underpinned each of its sides. Four towering pillars at both ends of the bridge allowed thick ropes to traverse the entire width of the river. From there, in turn, other thick ropes departed, ending up tying the bridge's walkway, thus holding it. The wooden viaduct looked from a distance like a giant hammock lazily resting over the majestic river. It was wide enough to allow two carts to cross it over while traveling in opposite directions.
After crossing the bridge, the caravan headed towards the dungeons of the Azcangor Palace, where the captives would be interrogated and sentenced. If they were not guilty of anything, they would join the army.
The heat that day was overwhelming. The commander of the regiment that had escorted the detainees had allowed them to come down from the wagon, to cool off in one of the numerous water fountains scattered around the city.
Despite her precarious and uncertain situation, Aela couldn't help but admire the beauty of the capital of Terrara. It didn't seem there was a war. Fortunately, for its inhabitants, the conflict had not yet reached its doors.
She forced herself to calm down. She came to the understanding that from now on, she would have to trust fully in her instincts. She got out of the wagon and heading to one of the fountains, splashed water over her face and body. She folded up the sleeves of her coat, exposing her arms. She had forgotten she was carrying her bracelets on.
"Hey, you! Where did you get that?" rebuked a soldier noticing the trimmings she was carrying on each of her arms.
Aela suddenly felt the cold touch of the bracelets around her arms, remaining paralyzed and lamenting the neglect and stupidity she had committed.