Arine led the way, keeping her horse moving at a reasonable pace, her eyes sweeping left and right to ensure the prince’s men were nowhere nearby. She didn’t speak much to Garinor and he was left to his tumbling thoughts, wondering about the ultimate destiny that awaited him at the end of the road.
Without warning, Arine veered toward the north and Garinor almost went right past her. He tugged the horse’s reins and followed, fear creeping into him at the sudden change of direction. “Did you see something?” he whispered after pulling up beside her.
Arine smiled back at him. “Don’t be afraid; just keep with me.” She snapped the reins and sent her horse into a run, at which Garinor shook his head then followed. She zigzagged as she went and it was difficult for Garinor to keep close. But she seemed to move with purpose, so Garinor focused himself on staying with her at all costs. He thought he glimpsed movement off toward the west, but he couldn’t be sure for they turned sharply east and then wrapped again toward the north.
A while later, Arine called a halt near a pond so the horses could drink. She and Garinor drew their swords and they sparred in the afternoon sunlight, keeping their muscles loose and stretched after the long ride. They noshed on a quick bite to eat and then Arine pushed them onward again.
They snaked their way across the land and approached a small outpost. Arine seemed more relaxed as they reached it and she leaped off her horse before it fully stopped moving. She sprinted ahead and crashed in through the main door. All Garinor heard from inside were raucous shouts of dismay and the clattering of wood and pottery on the ground.
He nervously dismounted his horse and made his way to the entrance, where he saw Arine leering over a group of men in a room where three tables had been overturned. Shaking her head she scolded them all. “Not even one lookout! Not one! What manner of defense is this place?”
“Sorry, Lioness, but it’s a quiet day.”
She threw a chair at the man. “Is it really? You call this quiet?”
“But all due respect, Lioness, you’re different.”
She lowered her sword with a groan. “You’re right I am. I won’t just kill you like our enemies would. But perhaps I should teach you all a lesson.” She lifted her blade and approached the man before her.
“No, no! Please!”
“Filthy, drunken lot,” she spat. “In the middle of the day and you’re all barely coherent.” She turned around and looked for Garinor at last. “This might not be a safe place you after all.”
“Please, Lioness, don’t say that! A momentary lapse, that’s all!”
Arine’s furious glare spurred the men to action. They righted themselves and the spilled furniture, standing and saluting in earnest. She heaved a sigh and shook her head. “Fools, the lot of you,” she accused, looking around. “Where’s Dodger? Isn’t it his shift this month?”
“Yes, yes, he’s out and about gathering supplies.”
“Well at least one of you is doing something useful.” She glared again, then motioned Garinor to join her. “Unfortunately, I have to leave you here with them. I must return to my lodging before too long and these men, though a bit lacking in sobriety, will protect you and take you where you need to go.”
Garinor looked up at Arine, his eyes wide. She was deserting him so quickly.
She caught the glance and smile warmly. “I’m sorry, but I must return where I belong.” He noticed she didn’t state where that was as if to keep it secret from the others.
“We will protect him,” said the man nearest to them.
“Since that is the charge of all Daggerfists, you had better!” she returned angrily, then added, “and when Dodger comes, tell him that he is to escort my personal friend here to the General. On my orders.”
The man cowed and lowered his head. “It’ll be done, Lioness. He’ll arrive safely, I promise you.”
Arine pulled Garinor aside and whispered in his ear. “Be wary. Speak not your name. And whatever you do, keep yourself away from the mead, as it will warp your instincts and awareness.”
He nodded and thanked her for her help. Arine then cast a final warning to the group and turned on her heel, taking her horse back to the orphanage and leaving the other one behind.
Garinor was welcomed tentatively at first. They stared meekly at him but Garinor shrugged away the moment and asked if there was anything left to eat. With a laugh, the tension broke and they struck up a good accord.
As evening approached, Dodger returned and accepted his orders from the others. He saluted Garinor proudly. “It means a lot that the Lioness is looking out for you. We’ll be on our best guard to keep you safe.”
He smiled awkwardly. It felt strange having everyone trying to protect him. “Thanks.”
After dinner, the men broke into some raunchy ballads that shook the walls and though the toneless caterwauling was hard to tolerate, Garinor stayed with the group, trying to get a better sense of them. Their focus seemed to be more about having fun than doing anything serious and he wondered what sense it made to be there under their protection.
Dodger showed him to a room for the night and insisted he bar the door from the inside. “We all know each other to different degrees, but you can never be too careful these days. And you’re a target, we know, so better to be extra safe.”
Garinor did as he was told, but bolting the door did little to make him feel secure. There were no windows in his room and if someone broke in he wouldn’t have an escape. He feared he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all. In desperation for rest, he dragged the bed to the door and blocked the entryway with it. At least if someone managed to get through the lock, he would have to move the bed itself, which would at least give Garinor a wake-up call.
Morning was announced with a pounding at the door and Garinor groaned that he was up. He pulled the bed away from the door and went downstairs for a hasty meal. It was a slop of cold oats in mead and he couldn’t get much of it down, but most of the others seemed to love it.
The men in the outpost were busy that morning, haphazardly packing up supplies and tightening their clothes for a journey. They shot dice to see who would remain behind to keep tabs on the place and as the sun peered down from its perch high in the sky, they finally set off.
Garinor’s horse was brought by one of the men, who was tagged the name Critter by everyone else, for he had a true affinity with animals. Dodger stayed by Garinor’s side, as did a fellow named Midnight, who remained oddly silent along the way. The others mingled about, sipping from their waterskins, though Garinor was certain that it was mead they were really drinking.
They didn’t travel far before someone came running up behind them in sheer panic, blood oozing out of various scrapes and his clothing torn in places. He collapsed at their feet, gasping. “The prince… he’s after… Chief…” He paused, gulping in air. “To the outpost… reinforcements.”
Dodger knelt and offered a few sips from his waterskin. “You went to the outpost, but we’re already on the road,” he translated. “But you did well to find us, warrior.” He turned to the others. “This changes our plans. We have to help our friends.”
Garinor stood up tall and nodded. “I’m ready to help.”
Dodger shook his head. “Not you. We have to keep to the original plan as far as you are concerned.”
“But—”
“It isn’t up for discussion. The Lioness gave her orders and I intend to follow them. Which means I’m with you and the others will go to the aid of our friends.”
Midnight placed his hand on Garinor’s shoulder. “I’ll come with you, too.”
The messenger reclaimed some of his breath. “We need all the help we can get.”
“Yes, but the boy needs to be brought safely to the General,” Midnight argued. “Doesn’t he?”
Dodger nodded. “Yes, but it would be faster just two of us going.”
Midnight looked at Garinor. “I think, since it’s your protection at stake, you should be the one to decide.”
Garinor looked at him and frowned. He could see the logic in both arguments, but he wasn’t sure what he should do.