The Count of Castle Rock

Chapter XXXI- A Needle Among Hay Merchants

The northernmost edge of Quinlain passes by at the steady pace of galloping horses. The Felah Forest dominates the northern horizon, miles and miles of coniferous wilderness stretching far beyond the maps of any modern explorer. To the south flows the thinning woods of the lost forest, the fading edge of Nevergreen and Northern Quinlain by extension. In a few hours Leesa and the expedition will cross the border and leave the kingdom. A dozen horses gallop in loose formation, pounding the cobbled highway as if hounded by eldritch determination.

Excitement mingles with awe to make her stomach tight and her chest heavy. She and Uncle Will had talked for hours about traveling beyond Quinlain to Gramshandle and Hang-Du, the three nations. They'd even discussed visiting the Merchant Coast and sailing the Hellion Sea. Chau Chau explorers claim there are more lands beyond, but no one has ever mapped those places. The stuff of legend. In the end the closest the two had gotten to their lofty plans was a visit to the Gramshandle border, just before hostility erupted between the kingdom and the rebels to the south.

Today will be her first time leaving Quinlain.

She looks past the guardsman riding beside her to the wizard's apprentice on his other flank. Hans holds the reins and leans close to the horse's neck. It's a chocolate stallion, larger than Gianna and temperamental. To Ginanna's chagrin, Hans left her behind to save her the rigors of the long and hard trip. In penance he'd gotten a rough ride with a mean-spirited mount. Leesa's own horse isn't affectionate, but he's responsive and gentle.

Glancing over her shoulder, Leesa's eyes meet Olivia's and her heart triphammers. The half-elf still makes her shudder even after a week of riding together. Olivia was never supposed to be a part of the expedition, but once she'd heard they were riding out in search of Methuen, she'd refused to be left behind. Captain Carlos and Hans both tried to change her mind, going as far as to order her to stay at Castle Black Roost. All it accomplished was a frightful temper tantrum. In a spiteful display of her powers, she'd put all of the horses to sleep and nothing would wake them. In the end she was invited to come along, as long as she promised to listen to Hans.

Somehow responsibility over the bizarre woman has slowly transferred to Leesa as well.

She nods and Olivia gives her a big smile. Again, Leesa's heart skips a beat.

As they slow down to navigate the scores of people crowding the dirt road leading up to Du'Shadrak, Leesa can't hide her wonderment. It is everything she thought it would be, yet so much more. The colors alone leave her speechless. The Silver Knight, hero of her favorite book, must charter a ship to circumnavigate his enemies territory and approach from an unexpected and less guarded direction. The way the author described the merchant city had always set her imagination ablaze: bright colored tents, multitudes draped in exotic garbs from every corner of the three nations and beyond.

Men and women of every shape and size, from Chau Chau and Feliruu to Quins and Hang-Dusie, are everywhere. The closer they come to the huge tents, the greater the crush of humanity. It reminds Leesa of Levian, but without the stone buildings to cut up the monotony of the landscape she can fully appreciate the magnitude of so many in one place.

The smells of unfamiliar cuisine and the songs of strange instruments command her attention. Du'Shadrak is new and beautiful and her soul wants to experience everything it has to offer. It is a matter of willpower that keeps her from wandering off and getting lost in the sensory feast alone. Leesa isn't a child and knows the kinds of dangers that await in such places, but even that is a sort of tantalizing lure. Thankfully, she keeps sight of the mission.

Hans guides the expedition to a Chau Chau merchant on the city's edge. The fishkin raises an eyebrow when Hans and Captain Carlos dismount and engage him in conversation. The former wears a set of grey robes bound at the waist with a thick leather belt hung low with a collection of pockets. The latter wears a steel breastplate with matching greaves and bracers. The straight blade of the longsword on his hip stands out among the curved blades and daggers worn by the people around him. The staff in Hans's hands seems even more out of place.