The Raven's Chronicles. Rage of the Wraith

Chapter 26. The Mine

They left the cave with the first rays of the rising sun breaking the darkness of the night. The forest around was grey, shrouded with thick fog. Shadows flitted between trees, following the three riders until they left the Moaning Hills behind.

Jules was half-asleep in the saddle, nibbling at the beef jerky Ravin had produced from his bag. The night's terrors were gone, leaving him drained. He thought about Melissa and the Shadows no more - what use was in dwelling about what had happened? Captain Rogre unfolded his map and calculated the distance between them and a forest village that was their next waypoint. As his stomach grumbled, he wondered whether they would be able to eat a warm meal there.

The woods around were wild and dense; they were surrounded by wildness Jules had never observed in the Midlands of Limra. The only road that led from Arvene to the mines had run wild long ago. Now it remained only a line in the Captain's map; the forest had claimed and turned it into its territory again.

They rode for hours, making only short breaks to water the steeds. They had to make up for the previous day's delay, so Ravin cancelled the planned stopover during which Rogre planned to catch fish and roast it on fire. Used to spending long days in the saddle, Jules entertained himself listening to the Captain's complain and groans.

It was late afternoon when saw smoke over the tree crowns. A small village emerged from behind a groove overgrowing the river bend. It was a clump of wooden huts embraced by a palisade of sharpened stakes. Around, people worked on their fields while farm animals pastured on the meadow by the river.

"Finally," Captain Rogre stretched in the saddle. "I can feel every bone in my body. I never knew I have so many of them."

"We must gain the pears before night," Ravin hurried Opal toward the settlement. "I want to be back at the castle by tomorrow's evening."

As they rode along the river, farmers were leaving their fields, following them toward the village. Before they arrived, the door in the palisade had been closed, but many gathered outside to wait for them - mostly men armed in bows and axes.

"That's not a very friendly company," the Captain halted his mare.

Jules rode past him, Grumbler trotting after Opal with new energy. Jules rose in the stirrups and looked around to see a feeding rack full of carrots and fresh grass just the village gate.

"Greetings," Ravin halted Opal before the villagers and dismounted. "I'm hunter Ravin Blake, looking for John Thatcher that should be chief here."

Jules reached to pull the hood of his cloak on his head - a gesture that grabbed the attention of some of the villagers - and froze with his hand in the air. The people stirred at his master's words, then a man standing in the first line of the crowd, the only one unarmed, stepped forward.

"My father died a few years ago, leaving the village to me," he said, his clear blue eyes studying the hunter. "I'm Christopher Thatcher. I hope I can help you in my father's place."

Captain Rogre halted his mare by Jules and Grumbler and leaned in the saddle toward the boy.

"So Ravin knows those people?" he whispered, to which the boy shook his head.

"I have no idea," Jules admitted.

"I believe we met some twenty years ago," Ravin offered his hand for the chief to shake. "Do you remember a hunter from Arvene killing a limpevil for your grandfather? I was his apprentice."

The chief's face visibly relaxed. "I haven't recognised you. You look nothing like back then," he shook Ravin's hand and called to his people. "It's alright, everybody! I know this man. We're in no danger."