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Mercenary of Lastia - BtLH - Ch 14-15
🕑 Added 2024-05-18 06:51:51 +0000 UTCChapter 14
Lys settled into the cart, the rhythmic clop of the horse’s hooves providing a soothing backdrop as they traveled along the winding road.
She glanced at Jonas, his weathered face a picture of concentration as he guided the horse with a steady hand. The countryside rolled by in a blur of greens and browns, and for the first time in days, Lys felt a small measure of safety.
The silence between them was companionable, but the weight of her recent ordeal pressed on her, seeking release. After a while, she couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“It was… awful,” she said quietly, her voice trembling.
Jonas nodded, his expression somber. “Were you close to your companion? I actually stopped and buried the first man when I came across the first man. It was the least I could do. The other two… there wasn’t much left.
Unfortunately, she was able to picture what he saw. Ysliv had looked like he wanted more of the bandits’ meat. She felt a queasy feeling in her middle. “Thank you, Jonas. I wanted to bury him, but I couldn’t manage it myself. His name was Jorg and was escorting me for my brother.”
Jonas gave her a sympathetic look before his brow furrowed. “And you saw a Man-eater with the bandits?”
Lys tensed, her fingers gripping the edge of the cart. She took a deep breath before speaking. “I came upon the two bandits fighting a red Man-eater. I shot one of the bandits in the back, and the Man-eater killed the other. Afterwards, he gave me back Jorg’s things and we parted ways.”
Jonas was quiet for a moment, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “You’re lucky, lass. The Man-eaters are dangerous. The road has become much more treacherous lately.” He glanced at her. “Why didn’t you go back to Thornfield? It was much closer.”
Lys sighed, the memories of her confrontation with Caius and Gaius still fresh in her mind. She recounted the events that led to her leaving Thornfield, the injustice she faced at the hands of the headsman and his son, and the magistrate’s possible involvement.
Jonas grunted, shaking his head. “I was wrong. You’ve had the most awful luck, Lys. I’m headed to my cousin’s farm, which should take you to just a day or two from Silverpines.”
Lys winced, realizing that she would still have a portion of the journey to complete on her own. She had hoped Jonas would be able to take her all the way to the town, but she knew she should be grateful for the help he was offering. “Thank you, Jonas. I appreciate your kindness.”
“You paid for the service, it wasn’t charity, lass,” Jonas chuckled.
“Still, you didn’t have to stop, especially not after seeing… all that,” she said.
Jonas grunted and nodded. “True that. You did give me a bit of a fright, and I admit I considered bolting. This has been the most eventful of any trip of mine on this section of road.”
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Jonas pulled the wagon to the side of the road and hopped down from the driver’s seat. “We’ll make camp here for the night.”
Lys nodded, grabbing her pack and bedroll. She surveyed the area, noting the dense trees that lined the road. Jonas began to place his bedroll right beside the cart.
She frowned. The thought of sleeping out in the open next to the cart made her uneasy, memories of the bandit attack still fresh in her mind.
“You’re sleeping here, right by the road?” she asked, her voice tinged with worry.
Jonas looked up, catching the apprehension in her eyes. “I am. It’s easier to keep an eye on the cart and the goods this way. Ain’t getting the cart deep enough into the trees to keep it hidden, either.”
Lys chewed her lip, glancing at the surrounding forest. “What about bandits? Isn’t it dangerous to be so exposed?”
Jonas gave a reassuring nod. “I’ve got my axe right here,” he said, patting the weapon beside him. “That’ll keep most threats at bay.”
Lys frowned and looked to the shadows of the trees. Jorg had his axe, too. She avoided saying that, though.
“I think I’ll sleep in the trees tonight,” she said, gesturing to the forest.
Jonas shrugged, respecting her decision. “Suit yourself. Just don’t go too far. We need to stay within earshot of each other in case something happens.”
Nodding, Lys ventured into the trees, finding a clear spot a short ways into the brush, close enough to hear Jonas if he called out.
She laid out her bedroll, the soft forest floor a welcome change from the hard wooden planks of the wagon. The dense canopy above filtered the remaining light, casting dappled shadows that danced with the gentle breeze.
Despite her exhaustion, sleep eluded her.
Laying awake on her back, she stared up at the canopy of leaves above, her mind moving between thoughts of the uncertain future that lay ahead.
Would she find safety in Silverpines? Would her family be alright without her? The never-ending cycle of worry and doubt spun like a water wheel. Gradually, exhaustion overcame her, and she drifted into a fitful sleep.
The sound of Jonas preparing the cart for the day’s journey woke her. She quickly packed up her bedroll and made her way back to the road, where Jonas was already seated on the driver’s bench, a piece of bread in hand.
“Morning, Lys,” he said, offering her a chunk of the loaf. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us. Hop on up and eat while we ride.”
Lys climbed into the cart, gratefully accepting the bread. As they set off, Jonas began to chat about his cousin’s farm and then his trade.
“My usual route takes me near the swamps and coast, between the coastal villages,” he explained. “It’s rare for me to come this far north, but I always enjoy the change of scenery.”
Lys listened, her mind momentarily distracted from her own troubles. As they continued down the road, two figures came into view, walking towards them. Lys’s stomach churned as they drew closer, a sense of unease washing over her.
Jonas glanced at her, his expression serious. “Get in the back of the cart and ready your bow, just in case,” he instructed as he moved his axe to be close at hand.
Lys nodded, clambering into the back of the wagon and stringing her weapon.
As they approached the men, her heart beat faster. Their outfits and faces were all too familiar—they looked just like the bandits who had attacked her and Jorg.
Jonas slowed the cart to a stop, greeting the men with a cautious nod. The taller of the two stepped forward, his eyes narrowed.
“Have you seen two men on the road?” he demanded.
Jonas shook his head. “Can’t say I have. What’s this about?”
The men shared a look before the shorter one spoke. “Our mates seem to have wandered off. We’re supposed to retrieve them.”
Jonas scratched his beard, his expression thoughtful. “We did see a bloody section of the road about twenty miles back, but there were no remains. Could be related to your missing friends.”
The men cursed, their gazes turning suspicious as they eyed Jonas and Lys. The leader turned his attention to Lys, his eyes boring into hers. “What about you, girl? Did you see anything?”
Lys shook her head, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke. “It’s just like my grandpa said. We didn’t see anyone.”
The men exchanged another look before the taller one gestured to the cart. “Mind if we search your wagon?”
Jonas’s grip tightened on his axe, his voice firm. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that. We’re just minding our own business, delivering goods. What would we have to do with fighting soldiers?”
He leaned forward, his tone warning. “This road is well known for being raided by Man-eaters. It’s possible your friends ran into them.”
Lys let out a tense breath as the two men moved on, her heart pounding in her chest. She put away her bow and returned to sit with Jonas as they continued their journey. He glanced at her, his brow furrowed.
“Did you recognize them?” he asked, his voice low.
Lys nodded, realizing he had noticed her reaction. “They looked just like the two ‘bandits’ that attacked us. Same gear, same features.”
Jonas grunted, his expression grim. “They’re Irongians, mercenaries probably. Irongia has been feuding with the southern nobles in the marshlands, but I had not heard they were active in the north, too.”
Lys furrowed her brow, thinking. She knew they were in the border region with the other country, but the pass between the mountains was northeast of Silverpines. There wasn’t one near Thornfield at all. The mountains were impassable.
“What would they be doing so far south?” she asked.
Jonas shook his head. “Nothing good ever follows soldiers. I hope my cousin is fine.” He pressed the horse to go a bit faster on the clear stretches of road, and they made good time the rest of the day.
When they set up camp for the night, Jonas turned to Lys. “We should share a watch, with one of us staying up to make sure nothing sneaks up on us.”
Lys nodded. “I can stay up later so you can sleep. Then I can nap in the cart during the day.”
Jonas agreed, and they settled into their respective roles for the night.
As Lys took her watch, she couldn’t help but think about the Irongians. The encounter had only added to her growing list of concerns.
*
Chapter 15
Lys fought against the heaviness of her eyelids, determined to stay awake until the first light of dawn.
The night seemed to stretch on endlessly, but she found it easier to remain vigilant than the prospect of waking Jonas and attempting to sleep herself. When the sun began to peek over the horizon to pay the sky in hues of pink and orange, all that energy disappeared.
Thankfully, Jonas began to stir from his slumber with the morning sun.
“You should get some rest,” he said. “Make yourself comfortable in the back of the cart. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”
Lys nodded. She climbed into the back of the wagon, arranging Jonas’s sacks and her cloak to create a makeshift bed. The cart lurched forward as Jonas urged the horse onward, and she found herself jostled by every bump and dip in the road. Despite the discomfort, exhaustion quickly overtook her, and she drifted off.
The sun was high in the sky when she finally sat up, her body stiff and sore from the rough journey. She rubbed her eyes, squinting against the bright midday light.
“This… is sort of miserable,” she admitted.
Jonas glanced back at her, nodding in understanding. “We should make it to the farm tomorrow,” he said, his tone reassuring.
Lys blinked in surprise. “Really? I didn’t think we’d make it that far.”
They made good time, better time than she had walking. Other than a few startled wildlife, things went well for the rest of the day. They camped beside the road, and Lys stayed awake for night watch again, the moon keeping the open area of the road lit up.
Predictably, she slept until noon again, too.
Lys sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Are we on time to make it to the farm?”
“We should arrive sometime before dusk,” Jonas confirmed. “I don’t like running the horse so late because it’s a risk, but we’re close, and I feel we’ll be safer at the farm.”
Lys considered his words. Reaching his cousin’s farm would definitely let them rest in safety. Or at least she hoped he was right. If bandits were roaming the road, then remote farmsteads might not be as safe as hoped.
But if she let that prospect guide her, nowhere was really safe.
Which was actually the truth. The only really ‘safe’ place was with family who you could trust to care for you.
But… having a place to rest that wasn’t out in the open or the woods would be nice. “I agree,” she said. “The sooner we get there, the better.”
The cart rattled along the uneven road. Despite the discomfort, she found herself grateful for the steady pace Jonas maintained. They ate a lunch of dried meat while on the move.
For the rest of the day, it was uneventful until the sun began to dip low. Every so many miles, there would be small dirt paths barely large enough for a cart that threaded out into the valley. When they finally took one, it was a surprise.
“Are we almost there?” Lys asked. The endless sea of trees around the area blocked sight of any farm.
“Aye, we’ll make it just at sundown, I reckon,” Jonas replied.
The small path was lined with pine, and the dipping sun created a shadowy path. It seemed to stretch on endlessly, and with every passing minute, the light grew dimmer.
Just as Lys was about to voice her concerns, they pulled out into a clearing. There were fences and worked earth.
They had made it!
Jonas called out a greeting as they approached a cottage that was spilling light from the windows and smoke from the chimney. “Hello! Cousin Arlo, it’s Jonas!”
The farmhouse door swung open, and a man emerged, flanked by three younger men carrying cudgels. They stood ready, their faces taut. Lys’ hand tightened on her unstrung bow.
“Who goes there?” the man demanded.
Jonas raised a hand in a friendly gesture. “Cousin Arlo, your sons look strong and grown,” he said.
The man’s demeanor shifted, and his weapon lowered. “Jonas, you old dog! What brings you out this way?”
The tension in Lys’ shoulders began to ease. The two men chatted for a while, catching up, while Arlo’s sons began to help unload. She moved to help move the things to the back of the cart for them to lift.
The farmer’s eyes fell upon her, and his brow furrowed in confusion.
Lys smiled at him. “Hello,” she said, her voice quiet. She finished stretching her legs and stepped down onto the ground.
Jonas gestured towards her, a smile on his face. “This is Lysandra.”
Arlo’s eyes widened as he looked between her and Jonas, his expression a mix of surprise and confusion. “Jonas, did you remarry some young girl?” he demanded, his tone incredulous.
Jonas chuckled, shaking his head. “No, no, nothing like that,” he said. “Lysandra joined me on the road after several unfortunate encounters. The roads are getting dangerous again.”
Arlos frowned, his brow furrowing. He nodded, then shifted his gaze back to Lys. “Well, you’re welcome to stay the night.”
“Thank you,” Lys said. “I appreciate your hospitality.”
Arlo grunted in acknowledgement, then turned back towards the farmhouse. “Come on in. We’ll get you settled.”
She and Jonas followed Arlo into the farmhouse. The interior was simple but cozy, the large hearth dominating one wall of the building while a sturdy wooden table took up the center of the room.
A woman emerged from the back room, wiping her hands on her apron. She smiled warmly at Jonas. “Jonas, it’s good to see you,” she said, her voice welcoming.
“Meya, you look well.” Jonas returned her smile, stepping forward to give her a brief hug.
Meya’s gaze fell upon Lys, and her smile widened. “And who’s this?”
“This is Lysandra,” Jonas said, introducing her again. “She’s had a rough go of it and needs a place to stay for the night.”
“Oh! Of course! You’re more than welcome here, Lysandra. Let’s get you settled in,” Meya said.
Lys declined the offer to share a bed with her or her daughters, opting instead to sleep on the floor in her bedroll. She kept to herself mostly, listening as Jonas recounted their tale to Arlo and his family.
There was a thin but hearty soup that warmed her from the inside out, and she felt her eyelids growing heavy as the conversation continued well into the night.
When she finally lay down to sleep, she didn’t even have time to notice how fast she drifted off, the exhaustion of the last week catching up with her all at once. She slept soundly through the night, free of dreams, nightmares, or worries.
When she woke up, she felt more rested than she had in what felt like forever. Meya was already preparing breakfast, and Lys moved to do her best to assist. That was something she was skilled at, thankfully. The men went out to do morning chores, and then everyone gathered around the table to eat breakfast.
Jonas cleared his throat. “I’ll be staying with the family here for a while before I head back to Thornfield,” he announced, glancing at Lys.
She nodded, swallowing a mouthful of food. “I need to continue on to Silverpines,” she said. A bit of uncertainty churned inside of her. She had known their paths would part here, but the prospect of traveling alone again was… heavy.
Arlo frowned, setting down his spoon. “There’s been some rough news from Silverpines,” he said, his tone grave. “Last time we were in town, about a month ago, there was a lot of talk about Irongians causing trouble in the Gap. Several wagons raided and robbed.”
Lys glanced at Jonas, then back at Arlo. “I think it was Irongians who attacked me and my companion,” she whispered.
Arlo nodded, his expression concerned. “I’d like to send someone with you,” he said, “but we can’t spare anyone right now. I need all my boys in the fields.”
Lys nodded, understanding the demands of farm life all too well. “I understand,” she said.
Meya turned to Arlo, her expression thoughtful. “We should at least help her with rations,” she said, her tone firm but kind.
Arlo nodded, his gaze shifting to Lys. “It’s a two or three-day walk to Silverpines,” he said, his voice matter-of-fact. “And there aren’t any real farmsteads on the main road that aren’t miles off into the hills on branch paths like ours.”
Lys nodded, her expression determined. “I have enough supplies for it,” she said, her voice steady.
Meya frowned slightly, her brow furrowing. “I don’t want to overload you,” she said, her tone concerned, “but some fresh food must be preferable if you’ve been on the road for a while.”
Lys nodded again, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I mostly have dried meat rations, and some cheese left,” she admitted.
Meya’s face brightened, and she clapped her hands together. “I’ll bake you some rolls if you’re willing to wait a bit before leaving,” she said, her voice eager.
Lys felt a surge of gratitude towards the kind woman. “That’s more than fine.”
As Meya bustled off to prepare the rolls, Arlo turned his attention back to Lys. “Tell me about your family.”
Lys hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal. “My uncle Aldric owns a tannery and is a leatherworker in Silverpines,” she said finally. “He’s supposed to be on the council or something.”
Arlo’s eyes widened in recognition. “Ahh, I know the man. We’ve done business before. Aldric’s leatherwork is one of three in the town and is known for the best quality.” He paused, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Although maybe not the best prices.”
As they continued to talk, the aroma of baking bread began to fill the farmhouse, and Lys felt a sense of warmth and comfort wash over her.
Despite the uncertainty that lay ahead, she was grateful for the kindness and hospitality of Arlo and his family.
Comments
Aphanvahrius
"buried the first man when I came across the first man." repeats "the first man" "His name was Jorg and was escorting me", maybe "he was escorting"?
JHD
Ahh some nice friendly people, so when is it going to go horrible again 😅
