Yuragwyn: Ours

---Chapter 14

∞Kaitra∞

                Packing and traveling, already commonplace in my life, take little time, thought, or effort.  Within the hour, Eglantine and I sit astride a sway back, blotchy white pegasus with a torn wing, a scar from battle past.  She squirms uncomfortably under her pack and takes hold of his mane while I notch an arrow to my bow.  I must be wary all the more, for Granzians are not my only concern. 

                The moon, already up for hours, shines a fickle light upon the dirt path that snakes away from a small gate in the wall.  I close it behind us and mount behind Eglantine, who takes hold of the reigns and clucks to the aged beast. 

                He saunters off, and the rhythm of his hooves on the dirt is more akin to a lullaby than a battle cry. 

                The wee morning hours wane away and a morning grey and its dew settles thick on the two girls and their sorry steed.  The terrain now is unfamiliar, but the rolling hills, more like my mountains in my world, are directly in front of us, so we have yet to get lost. 

                “Do you see them?” I whisper to Eglantine. 

                She sets the reigns down for a moment to roll the stiffness out of her arm.  “I see a bit of what could be tents on the horizon there,” she points out to our left, and indeed, a thin line of a bit more vivacious green shivers in the burning mist. 

                “Well, we can try that way then,” I say. 

                “Come on, Caergwyn,” she nudges. 

                I can’t help but laugh a bit.  “You’ve named him?”

                “You don’t recognize him?  This is Caergwyn, the great pegasus who carried your father into his first battles, the battle in which I lost my mother.” 

                An oppressive quiet settles over us, and I bite my tongue.  “I didn’t.  My apologies about your mother.”

                “It is of little importance.”

//•••//•••///•••\\\•••\\•••\\

                We make it to camp just as the soldiers are taking down their tents and rolling their packs.  A young boy, hardly Eglantine’s age, offers to take us to Honorable Urien and bounds away through the preparing masses to a single, low tent in the very center that has yet to be taken down. 

                “Lady Kaitra!” He bellows, stomping out to meet us.  “I believed you to be staying in Cordina.  You should not have braved the plains alone in the dark!  There are enemies about!  Pray, what possessed you to make such a rash decision?”

                “Master Hulderic sent me with a letter,” I respond. 

                Honorable Urien’s tone quickly changes from accusatory to apologetic.  “Oh, yes.”

                I hand him the envelope and step back politely.  Honorable Urien gives it a long look over and shakes his head.  “It is a trial, certainly. Kaitra, please take this word back to him:”

                A commotion from the outer rim of camp causes him to pause and look around.  Arrows began to rain down upon us, and I dare to take a peek at the sky stretching above us.

                Granzians, mounted on pegasuses, fly about over us. 

                There is no cover here on the plains, and several fall reaching for their bows or mounting flying pegasuses.  I string a few arrows and let them loose.  The adverse effect of our arrows making their mark is the dodging the fallen bodies as the plummet down.  Soon, though, we find a rhythm: shoot and roll.