The River Teme: To the West
Forest ran towards the blackness of the monster mountains - her heart racing, her feet pounding the ground, her breathing coming in short sharp gasps; she prepared herself to scale its craggy face as soon as she was as the foot of the mountain. No hesitation. No considering the best route up. No wondering - what if. Behind her, the men on horseback had gained ground and were more clearly visible, but she was quicker and skitted from gorse to gorse like a panther, her reflexes heightened, her feet hardly touching the moorland ground as she deftly made her way forward with great agility.
The freezing air combined with the heat and sweat from Forest's running meant that her body burned both cold and hot simultaneously. Her short black hair curled wildly around her head and depending on which way she sprinted, she was either completely blinded by the sun or could see far too clearly the growing Tenebris Mountain caves. She had covered an enormous amount of moorland in a short time, and the craggy ridges in the mountain range came that she could slip her feet and hands into to climb up to the caves came clearly into view. She would be able to rest for the night in the safety of one of the caves.
At the foot of the mountain, Forest hardly paused to catch her breath. With one look over her shoulder, she had time. Not much time. But enough to slip into the mountain crevices and out of sight. She pressed her slight body into a crack in mountain as the ground below her feet vibrated to the beat of approaching horses. Her fingers were stiff with cold and the skin of her hands was raw, mottled red and white, as she reached up and touched the surface of the mountain, she truly regretted forgetting her gloves. The sharpness of the rocky surface was intensified by the bitter cold. In normal times, she would have carefully chosen where she grabbed hold for each hand and foot. Today, there was no time for such considerations. Not choosing the holds properly and not wearing gloves, Forest knew that her hands would be bleeding by the time she reached the higher caves.
'Here we go,' Forest whispered, 'arms straight, keep one hip against the mountain, look for the holds and keep my balance by pressing one foot in the opposite direction of the pulling and edge upwards. Come on Forest.'
Forest grabbed the first hold with her right hand, reaching up as high as she could, leaned into the wall and set her left foot on the first edge, kept it still and pushed herself up. Scanning the up the mountain wall, Forest reached for the next hold, pulling and pushing in opposition with her arms and feet. She manoeuvred her way slowly up the crevice in the Tenebris Mountain. Grateful that the crevice hid her from view, and she squeezed herself up it's ominous face taking great care not to dislodge any stones and draw attention to herself. Daring not to look anywhere but immediately above her, she pressed herself upwards, hoping that she would gain an advantage on the men approaching on horseback by making it up to the caves as quickly as she could.
Half way up the mountain, Forest paused, waves of exhaustion flowed over her and her arms and legs began to feel wobbly. The light shifted and the air held a clammy cold that came with the onset of dusk. The sun had dipped below the mountains and the cold pressed on her making her body feel stiff and unresponsive. Forest knew that she had to reach the caves before all light was lost. Climbing the Tenebris Mountains in complete darkness was madness and nothing more than shaking hands with death.
Forest paused and pressed her whole body into the mountain and dared to look down. It was a long way to the ground, and she could see the men on horseback riding parallel with the mountain scanning the mountain face for her. She gripped the rock more tightly and rested her forehead against it closing her eyes momentarily. When she opened them, she looked up. The caves still seemed so far away.
'This was surely a mistake,' she muttered and rested her forehead against the cold of the rock. Her mind raced with thoughts of her father on the run and her mother alone at home and her frozen Kingdom.
'You have eight lives left Forest and you're not going to lose one of them on this mountainside – land on your feet – you always land on your feet - keep going,' Forest said louder than she wanted.
Forest looked up again, gritted her teeth and pulled herself up - right hand, left foot, left hand, right foot. She repeated the pattern over and over, her finger tips were so red she could hardly feel them against the rocky surface or the little pin pricks of blood that she was leaving on the sharp edges of the mountain.
Below her, men shouted and horses whinnied, as the dusk faded to black and Forest reached the first of the caves used by the smugglers. She hoisted herself onto the ledge and rolled inside and out of sight. She felt her way along the floor of the cave through the remnants of a fire, food and empty bottles. Lighting the fire would be a death sentence - the men on horseback would spot her location easily. Forest crawled to the back of the cave. It was cold and damp but not as cold as outside. She huddled in between two rocks along with what ever was scratching its way along the floor, but she did not care.
She was safe. For now.
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