A Kingdom Beyond the Horizon

In Lands No Summer Shall Reach

They walked without speaking for some time, focusing on the uneven forest floor and the quiet they disturbed with their footsteps. Birdsong, dry leaves and branches crunching, and the churning of a nearby stream (much like that of the fugitives' thoughts) clashed, a cacophony amidst the pleasant atmosphere of the woodland.
"Here," Forridel murmured. She approached a thick curtain of moss, pulling it aside to reveal an overgrown, slightly trampled stretch of ground leading to a small cottage. Vanora readjusted the satchel on her shoulder and ducked inside, the others following.

"It's not much, but we'll have a fair warning if anyone approaches from Camelot," she gestured to the moss blanketing the entrance, "and Oweyn has ensured that no one, no matter who, can see us from the east or north. Only one side is open to attack...and they won't have a chance."

Favian side-eyed her at this, but said nothing. As they approached the cottage, Forridel noted the light boot imprints on the dirt. Perhaps this place was more frequently visited than she had assumed. Oweyn wouldn't've overlooked anything, so likely he had other friends in need of shelter. Still...

She reached the door and, out of habit, pulled a key from the folds of her dress to unlock it. Danaë was the first to be ushered inside, whereas Favian studied the surrounding forest for a moment more, finally stepping inside and shutting the door.

Forridel took a seat at the rickety table at the center of the room, the others following suit. While Vanora helped her daughter clamber into a chair, she had to ask, "How could he have known?"

"You know Oweyn almost as well as I: he sees everything, but what he chooses to tell us...there's hardly any sense in it, to me. He knows what he's doing. He always has."

The dark-haired woman nodded, though she didn't seem quite so certain as her friend. "And where will we go? We can't return to Camelot. It will never be safe for us again."

"Queen Annis knew my mother well. She may be willing to host us for a few nights, until we can get back on our feet," Favian said. "And I may yet have a friend or two in the village."

"Caerleon is a long way. Unless we cross the mountains, we will have no choice but to pass through Mercia, an ally of Camelot. It will take at least two and a half days with horses, and we're on foot. By that time, Uther will have sent messengers to warn King Bayard and we'll have no chance."

Vanora, too, seemed skeptical. "Not to mention we would have to navigate Camelot's border on our journey, for the Perilous Lands are out of the question." She glanced at Danaë. "It hardly seems a realistic escape plan."

"No, but there are those wh-" Favian's low voice melted away as Forridel raised a hand for silence, and the only sound that remained, loud enough to be heard even inside, was an uneven crunching of leaves. The woman rose. Peeking through cracks in the wooden walls, she caught a glimpse of what she had feared was true.

"Patrols," she breathed, padding back to the table.

Danaë's eyes widened, and Vanora reached to take the girl into her lap.
"We had an...incident with Cenred's men once," Vanora whispered. The foursome sat very still as the noises outside continued, seeming closer every second.

A creaking noise came from behind; Forridel turned, knife in hand, greeted only by the smile of a tanned and weather-beaten man.

"Oweyn!"

"That won't be necessary," he chuckled, and Forridel put her weapon away.

"Your defenses, I-"

"What, you doubted me?" He patted her on the shoulder and accepted the satchel Vanora handed him.

"You needn't worry about that now." He herded them out the door into the cool afternoon air. Three horses stood outside, Oweyn ushering Vanora to mount a bay mare as he spoke. "Though Cenred trains foolish nobles to become still more foolish knights, I think even they will see the illusion soon. We mustn't take our time."

Danaë stared up at the old man, her dark eyes confused.

"Nobility does not equal bravery or intelligence, my dear. Those who possess all three..." He sighed, shook his head. "And then those who have none at all would kill to establish a fellow fool's reign and maintain the hazy peace of ignorance we know so well. Peace without minds."

He hoisted the girl onto Vanora's steed, secured his baggage to his own, and was helped up by Forridel.

"I thank you, and now I believe we really must go."

Forridel quickly slid on behind the man and the group set off. Oweyn glanced back at the cottage, reached into his coat pocket, and tossed the items he brought out onto the ground behind their party, muttering an indecipherable sentence or two. In response, the cottage was replaced by tall, yet harmless black flames that weaved about the nearby greenery and the approaching knights, twisting themselves to become fearful dragons' jaws and scheming fae. Said knights promptly stopped galumphing about the forest and instead let out cries of alarm that filtered through the surrounding trees, while Oweyn just smiled. Forridel raised a brow at his theatrics.

"Makes it look better." He shrugged, and for the life of her, Forridel couldn't think of a good reason to remonstrate the old man. She looked off into the distance as the horses settled into a faster pace, a smirk creeping up her lips. They were in good hands.