Elicerent

XVI.

I woke suddenly. I thought that I had hear yelling but reasoned that I must have dreamt. I wearily looked around, rubbing my eyes. The light still glowed in the sky, but now that I was awake, I noticed that it was not concentrated in the direction of Carmelo, it was stronger from the east. Sunrise. I had slept till sunrise. I rose, stiff from sleeping upright and on stone. At least the night had cooled off. I stretched as I made my way down the hidden path. Clarence was a farmer; surely, he would have been awake.

Piercing the quiet, I heard more yelling. I hoped that our group were not responsible. I slowed my pace, ensuring that I stayed covered behind the rocks and shrubs, before entering back into the treeline, where I had left the group the night before.

I recognised their figures, Owen crouched low, Art and Clarence laying flat, with the other three closer to the Pass. They were watching the road. Owen jumped slightly under my hand when I reached them. Peering through a gap in the low shrubbery, I could see what was keeping them distracted. Mercenaries. Quite a larger group too. I had never seen them travel in such large packs. But I guessed that was because I had only experienced mercenaries in the streets of Langulum and jumpers at Elicerent.

Arthur nudged me slightly, pointing toward the Gate Bridge. The group must have marched through the night. One who stood taller than the rest began barking orders. It must have been his voice that had woken me from my sleep. He pointed straight at us, and panic uncoiled in the pit of my stomach. I watched as he indicated up and down the tree line, closest to the road. They were stopping to rest.

Owen gestured with his hands, pointing here and there. Beside me, Clarence and Arthur nodded, occasionally mimicking his movements. With one final nod, Arthur patted my shoulder, smiled, and skulked away with Clarence and the other three in toe. I turned to Owen quizzically. I had no idea what had just been exchanged. Owen leant in close. So close that I could feel the warmth of his breath on my neck as he whispered into my ear, "When they are free, show them the goat track. It cuts through the mountains around the lake. Leave the rest to us." He carefully slid a dagger into my hand and with no chance of reply, he left, running low in the opposite direction to the others.

The quiet chatter of the mercenaries turned into a roar, fit for an inn. All but four mercenaries stood and fumbled with their weapons, chasing who I assumed was Arthur or Clarence into the Pass. According to all the maps and volumes I had seen on the mountains, all sight of them would disappear with the first turn that reversed on itself, like a dog's leg. The remaining gathered closely around our targets, corralling them in the opposite direction. Before long, they were out of my line of sight. I tried to move further east, keeping within the protection of the trees. But I could not see them. In fact, I could not see anyone. I decided to retrace my footsteps. As I turned, something solid blocked my path. The force knocked me to the ground, startling me. I stood up, grasping the moss-covered branches of the nearest tree to steady me. Now there were mercenaries and rebels fighting amongst the trees. They flurried in confusion. Some had already fallen. I didn't care to check if they were alive or not. I scanned the scene, spotting who I assumed was the physician fighting two mercenaries who looked like they would never tire. I moved around, toward them, distancing myself from the other fighters. Their fight moved closer to the lake. If she was as good a physician as she was a fighter, it was no wonder she was so valuable. As one of the mercenaries lost her footing, the physician lunged with her knife, slicing at her neck. Quickly she fell, scrambling to get away and out of the water. The water around turned deep red in a swirl of tendrils. She would not survive without immediate medical attention. In a manner of seconds, she had also disposed of her second opponent.

She was bruised, with a swollen and bloody face; not mortally injured. I stepped out of the trees as she pushed her shoulders back, poised, ready to attack again. She looked in my direction, chest heaving, as deep breaths escaped. I stepped forward, offering a hand to get back to the solidity of the bank. My knife was concealed in the sleeve of my opposite arm. I would make it quick. I would tell the others that I was too late. She hesitantly gave me a nod in thanks, as I helped her up to the bank. She pulled away, but I held her arm firmly. Her eyes questioned me and the widened in realisation, as I moved my other arm toward her...

Owen burst through the tree line, "Ada!"

I let go quickly and moved away, pretending that I was inspecting one of the dead mercenaries. It gave me time to re-adjust the weapon in my sleeve. Ada continued to look at me whilst Owen embraced her in a full hug.

"Who is this, Owen?" She glared at me, completely untrusting.

"Oh, right. You haven't met Etta Nora. She has only been with us a short time but has proven herself to be good in combat and we can trust her. She is like us," he smiled at me.

I quickly held out a hand to greet her properly, "A pleasure to meet you, Ada."

Ada looked at my hand for a long time, before hesitantly taking it briefly.

"Sure," she said, "I need to go and attend to the wounded. Then I want to go home," she turned to Owen and smiled up at him, before stalking into the trees.

"She'll warm up," Owen reassured.

I nodded in agreement.