Empire of Ashes

Chapter XXXV - Now We Embark

Temris woke me in the nicest way possible. It involved the lake and a water skin. When I jerked to awareness, dripping and freezing cold, any thoughts of revenge were extinguished by the splitting pain inside my skull. It felt like Nightmare had stamped on my head. Twice.

"Rise and shine, little one." He grinned at me. "We have forty leagues to cover."

I groaned and rolled onto my front, hugging a pillow which hadn't been there when I fell asleep. Was that wolf pelt tickling my cheek? It did feel roughly cloak-sized. After wasting approximately ten seconds wondering whether Temris was nice enough to sacrifice his comfort for my own, I simply opened my eyes to squint at the azure cloth. The answer was yes, it seemed.

An arm dug its way under my waist and I was pulled none too gently to my feet. Where was all the chivalry and tenderness from last night? Temris held me upright until I found the energy to stand by myself. We began the long trek back to camp.

"Can't we go tomorrow?"

"No. Now's the perfect time to slip away — everyone's hungover," he insisted.

"Everyone including me," I grumbled.

Temris swore as he beheld Colloe, who was sat underneath a tree, wide awake. He must have stayed up all night on guard duty. With Fendur exhausted and still recovering from an injury, there was hardly an abundance of Iyrak to take his place.

"When was the last time you slept?" the warlord demanded.

The Iyrak yawned like a cat. "Must've been two days ago, Ragnyr. I forget the exact occasion. Perhaps before the battle...?"

"Gods damned idiot," he growled. "You can't even sleep in the saddle — we aren't riding."

I stopped in my tracks. "What?"

"The Pass is too closely watched, and there's a fort at the far end. How long do you think it would take for Herox to hear about northerners waltzing into Anglia through the front door?"

"So ... what, are we sailing?"

They both laughed at that. "I don't own anything bigger than a longship, little one."

I scowled and tried again. "Walking? Please say we're not walking forty leagues."

"Even better," Temris grinned. "Climbing."

"Climbing?"

"Climbing."

"Just out of interest," I began, "how does that work? Climbing is a way of travelling vertically, and as far as I know, Anglia isn't above us."

He flicked my ear at the sarcastic doubt. "The Pass isn't the only way out of the country. We're going to be trekking across the mountains. There are a hundred cliffs and twice as many ravines between here and Anglia. No one will expect us to go that way."

"And for good reason, Ragnyr. Meaning no disrespect, but it's suicide to traverse that sort of terrain without a guide who knows it," Colloe spoke up.

Temris nodded in agreement. "My thoughts exactly. You're not from my corps, so you wouldn't know this, but Eirac grew up with the mountain clans. He only ended up in Sierra when his mother remarried. Why do you think he's ginger?"

"I'd never really thought about it." Colloe frowned. He paused for a moment, waiting for his sluggish brain to catch up with his mouth. It wasn't hard to tell that he was exhausted and had been for some time now.  "I still dislike this plan, Ragnyr. How will we get from the border to Canton?"

"Sami is going to send a supply train through the Pass. No one will suspect southern traders of sedition, but our horses will be pulling the wagons. They will meet us at the far end."