Sorceress

Chapter 14:

I pad softly through the forest, arriving at The Ravine, and halting before a sea of black. I cannot hear voices, or see the flicker of torch light through the trees. This gives me confidence, and I kneel down, in between two unlit torches. Calling to the tree to my right, I ask it to form a bridge for me, and it complies, scattering dirt and stones echoing into The Ravine. As quickly as I can, I rush across to the other side, and the roots of the tree retract back into the Southern forests.

I have been walking for three hours now along the edge of The Ravine. When I arrived, and met Allil, I was lucky that I was too far east from The Viking scout party- the one that killed Maverick- that they did not find me before Allil. I realize just how close I was to being captured again as I remember the fear of those days, and how I had been walking completely oblivious. My world was suddenly being broadened beyond what I knew back in my old village. Swiftly, I pull to a halt as I hear horses galloping towards me. Desperately, I grab a branch just above my head, and swinging myself onto it, I use it as a foothold to pull myself higher up the tree. Two men immediately come charging past, completely armored, multiple weapons placed upon their bodies. Even the best warriors that I saw in the Viking settlement where I was imprisoned in did not have the kind of quality armor that these warriors have. In a fleeting second, they have passed, and I stay frozen to my branch, stuck to it for a good five minutes. Eventually, I prise myself away from it, and decide to continue via the tree's. Silently, I make my way along the path that the warriors just rode through.

Out of nowhere, a cacophony of clanging and voices greet my ears, pushing branches away from my face, I see the glade that I rested in months ago. Instead, this time, it is filled with tents, horses, smithies, fires, armor, weapons, and most terrifyingly, hundreds of soldiers. I recognize the crest on the breast plates- this is the crest of an Icelandic noble, and he has the right to rally the rest of the settlers- for a worthy cause. Panic rises in the back of my throat as I feel desperation to get back immediately. We need to start making traps and building magical defenses. The flap of a tent opens as the noble steps out of his tent. His face is narrow, made up of harsh regular lines. He seems to look like he is in his early forties, his hair long, and braided tightly against his head. Suddenly, he seems to notice a brisk wind run through the trees, and he looks up, and notices me.