Beyond the Rabbit Hole

Irreversible Mistakes

The mercenaries sluggishly packed up their necessities and tossed everything else on the pyre. Barbarossa hooked the mule up to the carriage while the wagon was stripped of excess supplies.

Bjurrin dug through a thick crate in the center of the wagon. He examined the finely stitched dress of a silk doll he pulled out from the crate. Underneath it were books, blankets, unused pieces of armor, and various other expensive trinkets.

"Leave that, Bjurrin." Barbarossa commanded as he finished with the mule. "That and the other two crates beside it as well."

"What is all this junk?" Bjurrin spat, tossing the doll back onto the pile. "It doesn't look necessary to me."

"Those are the Desiras most precious belongings—heirlooms and the like. The others they can part with, but not those three." Barbarossa shrugged.

"You have to be joking-"

"I'm not."

Bjurrin's brow furrowed. "We're dumping food and water, but this not shite? We aren't seriously going to let these scrawny lords' sentimental refuse bog us down in this hellhole, are we?"

"We are," Rossa growled. "Because I said so, and that's final. Now keep moving."

Bjurrin shook his head in disbelief.

When the caravan started moving again, the morale had dropped severely. With the only remaining mule pulling the carriage, it was up to the mercenaries to move the wagon. Three pushed the cart from behind, while two pulled from the front, leaving only eleven mercenaries, including Bjurrin, to guard the caravan while it moved. The five mercenaries grew tired within the hour, forcing them to switch with some of those protecting the caravan. When the caravan finally stopped to take a break, the mercenaries were completely exhausted.

The remaining mercenaries sat around the back of the wagon while eating their dried-out biscuits. Tension hung heavily in the air as they ate in silence.

One of the mercenaries heaved a great sigh and glanced around him before speaking. "We can't keep this up for the rest of the journey."

The rest of the mercenaries remained silent.

"Are we even halfway to the castle yet?" He asked in a low voice. "Does anybody know? We just dumped most of our rations. How can we be sure we'll even make it there without starving to death?"

"Just shut up and eat, Hector," Bjurrin spat.

The other mercenaries shot glances at each other.

"Roy was the only sane one of us here," Hector muttered under his breath.

"I hope you remember those words when we find his corpse wandering along the road in the next couple of days," Bjurrin chuckled.

"Or maybe he'll find ours." Hector shook his head.

Alyss let out a light sigh as she listened in on the mercenaries' complaints. Her eyes shifted over to her other half, who sat silently by himself in the darkness. He's been acting weird for a while now. . . ever since we left Herongrand, no, maybe even before that. What is he thinking? Is it my fault he's acting this way, just like the bunny said?

"Are you worried about him?" Benard asked.

Alyss nodded.

"I'm not sure what happened between you two, but I think you should try to speak with him." Benard scratched the back of his head. "I understand that this place is messing with your senses, but you shouldn't let that affect your relationship," Benard spoke awkwardly.