The Dreamer's Fall

Chapter 47 - A Merit Earned

Three days later...

A canopy of verdant leaves hung high overhead, blotting out all but a few of the sun's rays while a light fog sluggishly floated by the muddy dirt road. Groans, creaks, and snaps resonated deep within the forest surrounding them, whittling away at the soldier's nerves with each step they took through the dark forest road.

Arthur had never been to Teutoberg Forest in Germany. Still, his mind couldn't help but draw parallels to the scene of the Roman governor Quinctilius Varus leading his legions into Arminius' treacherous ambush.

The story of Caesar Augustus slamming his head against doors, cursing Varus, and asking for his legions back had always stuck with Arthur. However, unlike Varus blindly leading his troops into the forest, Arthur had a ghost in his employ.

Kyren had returned the night before with news on the location of the Agelian-Bernish camp. Arthur's only problem was how to use that information to his benefit. If he had directly told the other lords about the location of the enemy camp, he'd likely been treated as a child with an overactive imagination.

Instead, he asked Fenric to scout out the area in the early hours of the morning since he knew Baron Iken and Garren both had favorable impressions of him. Of course, Fenric had questions, but Arthur wrote it off as a hunch without explaining further.

Thankfully, Fenric had the sense not to pry and considered the hunch probable enough to warrant at least a cursory search. So now all Arthur had to do was wait and let the commanding lords deal with it.

With his mind miles away, he led Aithon into a rather deep puddle that most soldiers avoided, causing cold, muddy water to splash up and drench his legs. Looking over the mess and feeling the water slowly seep through his pants, he could only grumble in frustration. "Damn it..."

"I heard this forest connects directly to Elrinth Forest, young master. You should pay attention. Else, the fae may spirit you away to the godlands without you even noticing." Foster warned as he examined Arthur from his mount.

"We're still thirty miles from the border of Elrinth Forest." Jeren corrected him.

Foster shook his head confidently. "Thirty miles is nothing to a fae. My uncle Benji once led a caravan through the Gorrian Woods near Faveley and ended up in northern Sparnia.

"He said he went to sleep that night surrounded by his men and woke up in a field with nothing but the clothes on his back. Took him a whole year and a half to get back home, and he was almost taken as a spy."

Jeren sighed. "There's little to no proof that the fae actually exist. While I won't speak on your uncle, most accounts of fae abduction are usually explained by people having too much to drink and waking up in places they shouldn't be."

Arthur nodded. Jeren's statement aligned with his understanding of the fae. Nithe had plenty of fantasy creatures that were well documented, yet the fae remained unseen by anyone actively trying to prove their existence.

"Say what you will, but the Welt family—Ah!" Foster hurriedly pointed ahead. "Young master, look, Fenric's back!"

Arthur glanced to where Foster was pointing and saw Fenric and a dozen of his men riding toward them through the dense forest.

"Finally!" Arthur cheered, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest.

"You were right, lord." Fenric announced as he pulled up beside Arthur and matched his speed. "Their camp is about five or six miles southwest in the shadow of a cliff. Even if the scouts rode out that far, they would've missed it unless they knew where to look."

Foster and Jeren exchanged knowing glances that didn't go unnoticed by Fenric's inhuman eyesight. "What will you have of me now, lord?"

"I'm glad you've returned safe, but I already told you what to do this morning. If you really did find their camp, then you should inform Baron Iken that you felt uneasy and decided to scout the area yourself." Arthur replied.