Chapter 15

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The River Teme; to the West 

Forest huddled on ground at the back of the cave grateful that its darkness concealed her and the rodents who were, undoubtedly, scavenging around the remains of the fire. Occasionally, she heard shouts from below but soon the men on horseback fell silent. On one hand, they could have retreated and returned across the wetlands, on the other, they could have set up camp at the base of the mountain for the night and would continue the pursuit at dawn. Forest weighed up the two options. Crossing the wetlands at night, with whatever stalked the boggy moors, would have been a death sentence, no matter how experienced a hunter. These men on horseback would certainly not take the risk. And they would not relent in the pursuit of Forest. However, Forest knew that the only way to find out for certain was to look out of the mouth of the cave and down the mountain.

Forest waited until the scratchings in the cave had ceased and enough time had passed for a camp to be established. All she needed to do was catch a glimpse of the light of a fire. She crawled towards the entrance and laid down on her stomach as she inched towards the edge. She would not risk standing up and allowing any form of a shadow to reveal her location. Forest hooked her fingertips over the edge and pulled herself closer until she was able to peer over and down the face of the dark mountain. She waited to allow her eyes to grow accustomed to the frozen moon lit landscape. Her breath was short and sharp, breathing in the freezing damp of the night and exhaling a frosted breath so cold she shuddered.

There, in the distance, far below the cave, Forest saw shadows, shadows of men and horses and the glowing light of a growing campfire. The men had done what she would have done – formed a protective ring with the horses and huddled around the fire, armed and ready and probably sleeping in rotation. Forest retreated to the back of the cave. She was cornered. If she emerged in the morning to climb to the top of the mountain, they would easily spot her. If she carried on in the darkness, she would surely miss a step or ledge for her hand and undoubtedly fall to her death. If she stayed in the cave, she would eventually freeze and starve to death.

Forest pressed her back into the space between the big rocks and rested her head against the icy stone. Another option occurred to her - she could stay in the cave, show herself and wait for the fight to come to her. Despite her remaining eight lives, Forest knew that there was a point of no return and all these options pushed her to the point of no return.

Truly weary with the journey, the escape and the climb, Forest closed her eyes.

It was the smell that stirred Forest first, sweet lavender and jasmine, then the hushed murmurings that made Forest leap to her feet before she had opened her eyes fully. Catching her breath, she peered into the darkness ascertaining that six small figures encircled her.

"Stand down Forest," one of them said.

"We are not foes," another said.

Forest looked from one shadowy figure to another cautiously, still poised to fight.

"Forest, we have been sent by your father," a third said.

Forest dropped her arms, "My father?" she asked.

"Yes, he sent us to guide you to the other side of the mountain," they said in unison.

"My father?" Forest muttered bemused.

"Forest, there is little time. It will soon be dawn and we will lose the opportunity to gain an advantage of distance and time. We must make haste and away," the voice conveyed urgency by emphasising each of the last six words individually.

"Who are you? Why should I trust you? How do I know you are not taking me to my death? Hired by those below?" Forest asked stepping backwards away from the figures.

"You do not know Forest. And you are right to question our intentions. You cannot trust us. There is no evidence to prove anything to you. And you are wise to be wary of who to trust. But there is one person who you can trust with absolute confidence. One person who you can trust always."

Forest listened and hesitated. Her father and mother were always to be trusted. She wasn't sure there was anyone else in the whole of the Kingdom who could be trusted.

The figures waited and finally one said quietly, "Forest – you must and can always trust yourself – use your instincts – what does your heart say?"

Her father always said to follow her instincts. Forest assessed her situation. She felt no threat from these shadowy figures. She sensed no malice or undercurrent of evil. In fact, the temperature in the cave seemed to have warmed since their arrival. She felt for her hunting knife at her waist, and it was still there. A real enemy would have disarmed her in her sleep.

"Who are you?" Forest asked.

"Who are we?" They said again in unison laughing. "Why – we are the children of the mountain. We wait for you in great numbers on the other side to accompany you north."

Forest was aghast. Children of the mountain? Forest thought. They wait in great numbers? Did father really send them?

"How do you propose leave without being spotted?" Forest asked.

"We are children of the mountain – we leave through the caves," they explained, "a maze of tunnels connects the caves – how do you think the smugglers are never caught?"

Forest laughed. That made enormous sense. Why had she not thought of that?

"Here," one shadowy figure stepped forward and handed her a parcel. "Put this under your coat and tie it in place with your belt."

Forest took the parcel. It was warm. In fact, it was actually hot. She opened her coat and placed it against her chest securing it with her belt as instructed.

"What is this?" Forest asked grateful for the warmth.

"Cherry pits wrapped in cotton and heated. The cherry pits will keep you warm for quite a while and are light enough for you to keep moving quickly. We all have them – essential in the belly of the mountain."

Thank you," Forest said hugging her chest. "So, how do we get out of here?"

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