The Winter Phoenix (WAYHAUGHT)

There's bread

Holliday knew their journey came with its own risks. Stopping at Guthram was one of them, drawing unnecessary attention, although it would offer an opportunity to replenish supplies before setting off for Saker's Keep. Not that he would have admitted any of this to Derek. Or his fellow travelling companions. He calculated Nicole's chances of reaching their destination improved considerably if only he accompanied her. Additionally, a larger group brought with it the problem of having to go at the pace of the slowest, and of having to be on their guard at all times.

Gloria would slow their progress, he guessed, enough to add a few more days to their journey. Nicole, however, was the one who languished at the back, lost in her own thoughts, Waverly constantly looking behind to make sure she was still with them, in body at least. The sadness in Nicole's eyes told her she hadn't left the village, dwelling on the fate of its children.

Waverly had heard rumours of similar raids. Svane's men would descend on a village unexpectedly, accusing those gathered before them of a variety of crimes against the kingdom. All false, all intended to relieve those villagers of their young. Had she witnessed a raid she might have guessed Svane's ulterior motive, given he took only those old enough, only those fit enough, those who could be put to work in the mines, accessing spaces too narrow for grown men to fit.

Not that she could have done anything to prevent such nefarious activities. She had other concerns to deal with. Like staying alive while her own people were being rounded up to be taken to the shores of Estlingan and fed to the serpents. Had it not been for Bondicus's son taking an interest in her, she too might have ended up in the belly of one of those creatures.

Their hypocrisy was the cruelest part, her being a fire breather of little concern to Bondicus, sparing her life while murdering other fire breathers. She understood only too well her people were never the problem. They were merely an easy target to vilify, a convenient distraction from what Bulshar had been planning all these years.

The group made camp that evening by a stream. Gloria's rucksack supplied the necessary equipment, a large enough tent to accommodate everyone. Nicole remained quiet, staring into the fire, smiling briefly at Waverly as she accepted a plate of steaming stew. She ate without saying anything, leaving the comfort and warmth of the flames for a cold sleeping bag.

Waverly woke to Nicole's cries in her sleep, rushing to be by her side. "I killed them," she muttered, over, and over. "I wasn't there."

Waverly placed a hand on Nicole's head, softly stroking her hair. "Hush my love. Another bad dream."

"I could have saved them."

"Hush. It is done."

"I could have..." Nicole woke with a start. "My parents!"

"Hush. Go back to sleep."

"I saw them. I think. My mothers. Long red hair, the other had shorter black hair. Yes black."

Waverly continued to stroke Nicole's hair. "You need to rest."

"I don't know their names. Waverly, I don't know their names."

"Rosalinde was your birth mother," she whispered. "She was the one with red hair. And Eloise."

"I can't remember their faces. Only a fleeting image I'm not even sure is real."

"They were both beautiful. Eloise was the quieter. You are more like Rosalinde. Passionate, if a little headstrong."

Nicole sat up, pulling her knees towards her body to cradle them in her arms. "The children," she whispered, realising the others were asleep.