Return of the Stormcriers

CHAPTER 30 - TRAVELS AND TRIALS

Under normal circumstances Matt would have loved to have taken his time traveling Verden, enjoying the far reaches of his homeland that he had never expected to see. To his great disappointment, there was no time to rest and enjoy the sights as they navigated the way down from their campsite. As they had been instructed, he and Sylvia had woken the others as soon as the first fingers of light began to reach over the surrounding peaks. Packing swiftly in a drowsy silence, the campsite had been picked up and all evidence of their small fire had been completely erased by Derek, who true to Cliff's word displayed an impressive knowledge of tracking and terrain as he covered their tracks. The group had begun their descent down the mountain as soon as the sun was high enough above the peaks to light the dangerous trails that led into the foothills that separated the Sünderin Mountains from the lowlands below.

The trek down the mountainside proved much more perilous and slow paced than the ascent the day before. The narrow game trails were littered with loose stones and unpacked dirt that threatened to slide from under their feet with every step, forcing them to remain on foot for the majority of the upper slope. Their mounts were slowly and carefully led down the trail, their immense body weight a constant threat to dislodge the ground from under the party's feet. Unlike the other side of the mountain, the dirt proved to be dryer and dustier, each misstep sending up a cloud of dust and debris, which clung to their sweaty bodies, caking their face and limbs with slow drying sediment leaving none of them in the mood to speak outside of brief warnings of specific hazards to watch their footing around.

   The mountainside was beautiful in its own rugged, dangerous fashion with jagged spits of rock protruded at odd angles from the steep face like the spikes on a dragon's back. Yet despite the unwelcoming presentation, flowers bloomed along every nook and crevice, dotting the landscape with vibrant yellows, oranges, and purples. Tall evergreens grew at odd angles out of the available soil, seeming to defy gravity with their very existence, cast long twisted shadows intermittently across the mountain face.

  It took the majority of an uncharacteristically warm autumn day for the group finally entered the short stretch of rolling green foothills before them. The combination of undulating terrain and the lower elevation wreaked havoc on the distance of their view as the sun began to sink once again in the sky. The tree line of the Trensin Woods that had been visible the evening before could no longer be seen on the horizon, the landscape impairing the sight of their destination. While much of the hillside was bare of tree cover, small thickets of slender oak trees sprouted here and there in small clusters adding character to the otherwise uniform light green grass that covered the rest of the topography of the area. The rocky, narrow game trail they had been following for the entirety of the day had evolved into a lazy, trampled dirt path that wound its way up and down the hills. Covered in sweat and dirt Anthony signaled for the party to halt and gestured for them to quickly find a place to hitch their horses.

Groaning with exhaustion, Matt bent and gingerly touched several throbbing red cuts that stretched along his ankles from dozens of dagger-sharp rocks that had littered the path down from the mountains. Thin lines of blood leaked from the wounds that were insignificant enough to have already begun to scab over. Straightening, he untied his bedroll and blankets from Taryon's back, tossing them onto the ground unceremoniously before leading his steed to a fallen log where the others were hitching their horses. Dragging his feet he wandered slowly back over towards his gear, the soft grass and earth feeling like cushions beneath his weary feet. He sat beside his furled bedroll, letting his forehead sink to his knees.

  "Mr. Bëcher, may I see you for a minute?" Anthony called, the first spoken words amongst the group in at least an hour. Matt lifted his head to see Derek exchanging looks with the other soldiers, clearly unfamiliar to being addressed so formally by a commanding officer. The scout broke ranks with his fellows to stride over to the young duke while Clay began to assemble a small cooking fire jut as he had the night before. Anthony smiled warmly at the soldier as he drew closer, pulling the map that they had been given from the protective case it was carried in, laying it flat on the grass, weighing its corners down with rocks. The two men began to point to various points on the map, discussing something too quietly for Matt to hear. As most conversations with Anthony often  became, it was a very animated discussion. Soft talking to his right brought his attention to Sylvia and Reyna, speaking softly over by their bedrolls. Will sat next to him.