Zoe fed a drop of magic to the Borrow Stone resting lightly within her closed hand. The sightless black of night retreated, replaced with shades of grey, the deeper shades a result of shadowing from wide trees or thick clumps of soil.

Her body still tingled, sensations of sated desire even now growing hungry once again, catching herself multiple times leaning her sex into the saddle horn as she rode down from the mountain range, a delicious self-pleasuring. The blinking of village lights from lanterns and candles interrupting her latest exploit and causing her to reassess. She couldn’t ride into the village from the North, to ride back along the churned escape path of the Walking Dead more … proper and explainable. The explanation of delay; underestimating the time required to ride back after following the evil too long. Zoe sighed, none would believe her; incapable of such a mistake her sisters would reason, she despaired, trapped in an unavoidable clear deceit. The reward though still thrilling her loins, encouraging her to pretend a truth, believed or not.

Galloping around the village and joining the trail her first priority, and like a miracle from Judge the vision provided by the Borrow Stone revealed a possible salvation. Zoe’s mind quickly interpreting the trail sign. A single fast galloping horse blazed a new track beside the Walking Dead churn. Dione! Why alone though? Whipping her horse Zoe galloped after the unusual chance, perhaps between her and Zoe a false truth could be found. The need to keep secret the improper desire she felt for the pack leader complete and unquestioned, one of those few certainties in life. Utterly confirmed by the fact she broke from the Warrior Three with Astera and Thyia evidence enough of her devotion, convinced her love beyond simple lustful infatuation and moreover a love returned.

From the heights of the mountain range the wolf lack leader scanned the plains below in search of her youthful paramour, questioning her own feelings. While enamoured by the young huntress and to some extent, well maybe a great extent, naiveite of a sixteen-year old an ageless wisdom clarified their association. Her lover a tool, an agent to discover the real nature and purpose of the Daughters of the Duchess and a chance to meet the mysterious Charis the Young and perhaps tempt another youth into a tryst as utter and complete as the one shared with Zoe the Huntress.

---

The light of a campfire attracted Zoe like a moth to a flame. Circling to dismount up wind, the mare snorted in relief, panting and lathered from the forced ride, Zoe using the whip on occasion having heard a thundering of horse’s hooves on the night air, not far enough behind.

Zoe led her horse into the firelight assured well beforehand by the presence of Dione’s huge black stallion freely patrolling around the camp, shaking its head, hooves occasionally ploughing into the ground, a warning to anyone hostile of possible consequences.

“Zoe, you arrive before your sisters and from, well not an accusation you understand, only an observation, from the wrong direction if returning from the chase.”

Zoe froze. “I circled windward to ensure I could be certain of the campfire owner is all.”

Dione looked up, tearing a piece of salted beef in two offering Zoe a half. “No.”

Zoe released the horse reins, her hands open and wide before her. “Why do you question my words?”

The portion of beef looping towards Zoe broke her innocent surrender, leaning forward, hands closing to catch the offering. Deliberately thrown short, surely not.

“My stallion caught the scent of your mare, which is on heat by the way.” A tired whinnying from the dark providing confirmation, causing both sisters to smile. “He is an excellent night watch and we share certain awareness’s, including my night sight from my Borrow Stone, although as I said his nose effective in this case due to a slight selfishness perhaps!” Dione’s laugh morphed into a sultry moan, back arching and probably due to present company, fingers grasping at the wisps of grass on the ground to prevent her hands from wantonly kneading her loins.

Zoe’s eyes wide as saucers, mouth slowly closing, eventually recovering to squeak in surprise. “You share with your stallion?”

“We are one in most things and since you know my deep dark secret, you need to reveal yours and perhaps together we can concoct a story to satisfy our sisters before they arrive. Remember though, while my secret is difficult in certain ways there has always been … an understanding I live a shared existence, whereas I suspect your secret a little more, shall we say suspect.”

Dione threw snow upon the low dancing flames of the campfire, welcoming back the night.

Zoe swallowed her bile down hard. The image of Dione as an innocent fifteen-year old, near to her own age, firmly shattered. Her real age known and yet, only now did Zoe comprehend her sister’s full wisdom, allowing others to underestimate her due to age, no not wisdom, devious cunning. The sense of entrapment, a fly caught in the spider’s web, stored for now to be consumed at leisure in the future dominated her ability to reason and speak. Dione’s thinning lips and smiling eyes a final confirmation of Zoe’s predicament, the Borrow Stone vision clearly revealing the tells.

Dione’s stallion nuzzled Dione in triumph, while Zoe’s mare collapsed in exhaustion, a short pitiful whining the only retort after being used. Zoe shuddered, could the huge black stallion detect the recent passionate heat between her legs? If so, Dione would also be aware, would she not. Zoe, wildly clung to coincidence, despite evidence to the contrary, Dione’s lips curled, sensual, her head leaning back while murmuring, as if savouring a fine wine.

---

Thyia and Niobe escorted Astera to the Main Cavern and as one they approached the crypts of the captured evil, the fear quiet, their practiced resistance not required. Hagne met them with a friendly wave.

“The fear has receded Mistress and there is a temptation amongst the sisters to discover why, although I suggest only to make conversation and nothing more.”

Astera nodded. “The other.” Astera flicked her head in the direction of the Cavern’s deep reaches.

“Nothing, quiet, although no evil ever radiated from him once the water flowed, so perhaps now more than a physical barrier or his power greatly weakened.”

“You look in bliss Seer Sister,” sent Hagne.

“I … am, and unashamedly so.” Niobe’s eyes closed briefly to savour her newfound sharing. Upon opening her eyes, both Astera and Thyia turned upon her, accompanied by a welcome across the Warrior Three bond.

“I see now, a belonging, three parts of the one and therefore different from our Seer sharing where connections are made and released without ownership or regret,” sent Hagne.

“Is my bond a betrayal of our Seer Circle?” Niobe’s heart beat faster and then arms wrapped around her and questioning faces of concern prompted her to share.

“No Seer Sister, if anything your bonding brings another tantalising discovery, which can be shared.” Hagne flooded Niobe’s mind with images of lovemaking, where not only did Seers know how to expertly pleasure other Seers, Niobe’s Warrior Three bond permitted Seers to pleasure Astera and Thyia in exacting detail with immediate feedback. Niobe’s face flushed beetroot red. Astera and Thyia sighed in pleasure, unable to contain their reactions and craving touch. The three in a crushing embrace. Their bond a few days young, Niobe wondered, what would be the consequences after a few weeks or months. How could Zoe surrender this intimacy? Perhaps the gem meant for a Seer, not a Huntress a possible explanation.

Astera’s head peered over Niobe’s right shoulder, while Thyia’s peered over her left, her arms wrapped around them both. Joyful tears flowed down Niobe’s cheeks causing her to mumble forgiveness to her Warrior Three sisters, immediately dismissed by them. Hagne stepped forth and wiped the salted drops away stealing a passionate kiss as a reward and in so doing gaining a full comprehension of the bond Niobe now shared, immediately establishing a Seer Circle to project and share Niobe’s blissful joy.

Thais and Alexa peered over the stone block, momentarily forgetting the work and savouring the new passion broadcast throughout the Seer Circle.

“Sisters?” asked Sweetears, curious why their willing helpers now stared into nowhere, trancelike.

The twins, while standing, flopped around delirious, their backs against the stone block which now provided unconscious support. The sense of absolute belonging to others, undemanding, freely given, totally new and with closed eyes they both drank deeply unable to hear or even feel their Goblin Sisters and their attempts to rescue them from their stupor.

Hagne broke free of Niobe’s sensual rosebud lips and enquiring tongue, both in wild abandon, devouring her concerns and briefly dismissing the onerous responsibility of duty. Instantly the breaking of the spell of oneness released the Seers in the Seer Circle, each sighing due to relief and aching after the loss. Thais and Alexa typical as they slid their bodies down to the ground, perplexed trying to rediscover the source of the unique passion.

The Warrior Three broke from their shared embrace and as if nothing happened and strolled towards the Goblin Sisters toiling away, recently abandoned by the twins who only now stirred to stand and remember their promise to assist.

Sweetears eyed the pair, convinced the twins now recovered. “Welcome Mistress.”

Astera reached forth and hugged the pale-yellow sister, surprising Sweetears and causing Prettynose and Bluefingers to pay attention. Astera hugging them in turn also.

“I value you and your toil, truer Sisters if ever there were, and I have been remiss in not telling you so. I apologise for my blindness in this regard and assure you as your Mistress I will hold to our shared oath not only in spirit but also by deeds.”

Niobe and Thyia stepped forward to assist Astera, each embracing a Goblin Sister overcome with ecstatic elation, tears escaping, and their chests puffed out with pride.

Sweetears broke her embrace with Astera first. “You honour us Mistress and your words bind us.” Sweetears shifted her boots upon the cold stone floor of the cavern. Astera waited. “We thought to miss our caves and would await the tribute drops to hear own language spoken, news from home and belong still to our tribe in a small way.”

Prettynose and Bluefingers each wrapped an arm around Sweetears after breaking their embrace with Niobe and Thyia respectively, encouraging her to continue.

“We came to the conclusion we are no longer Goblin, our skin colour, our faces are proof enough and yet we aren’t human either due to the shape of our eyes amongst other things and therefore find ourselves stranded between two families and yet, with your words and actions we now know our true family and this knowing is a gift beyond measure.”

Sweetears grasped Astera’s hand and kneeling before her solemnly kissed each of her fingers, Prettynose and Bluefingers following suit.

Holding back tears of joy Astera cleared her throat and once again addressed the Goblin Sisters. “Report on your progress please Sisters.”

The three Goblin Sisters didn’t restrain their pride, honoured by the duty bestowed upon them and determined to ensure they exceeded their Mistress’ expectations. The horse gate in the Northern Wall completed allowing a single horse to pass through at a time, slim blocks able to be positioned by two sisters fitted into separated floor recesses to lock them in. For the Main Cavern nearly all the blocks now contained their embedded hinge, the lowest block for the door furthest away from the evil fitted, underneath a channel shaped in the stone floor to ensure the water flowed. They then shaped a channel within the Cavern Wall so the passage of water couldn’t be detected and easily blocked, which carried the water to the base of the Northern Wall.

During the report, Thais and Alexa joined the gathering and when Sweetears finished they spoke up. “They are tireless Mistress and we are in awe of them.”

The three Goblin Sisters blushed, their pale-yellow skin shading a stronger yellow with a red tint, an oddly beautiful hue.

“We know,” whispered Astera, not wishing to embarrass them further.

---

Their story agreed to, her secret shared, albeit reluctantly. Dione skilled at questioning, probing until satisfied, often asking the same question a different way until telling the truth the only certain answer to finally satisfy her polite interrogation. Speaking the words and hearing Dione’s interpretation or perhaps accusation Zoe needed to question her own loyalty to the Daughters of the Duchess. Her escapade and romance with the wolf pack leader an innocent affair and yet to another the word betrayal dominated. Zoe dismissed the words of Dione, concluding she manipulated for her own benefit and nothing more. The trade-off for Dione’s silence being unwavering support in the hunt for the Dark Priest. If not guilty why make a deal Zoe questioned herself. The realisation sent her reeling, perhaps she deserved the title traitor.

During their conversation Dione rekindled the campfire, building from a low flame to almost a blaze.

Dione’s black stallion snorted and struck the ground with a hoof in warning, breaking Zoe from her self-reflection, warning her, others approached, although not strangers, her sworn sisters. As they arrived Dione met them with smiles and a welcome oozing friendship and camaraderie. Observing from the outside, now knowing Dione a little better, the scene unfolding before the campfire pure illusion, a pantomime with Dione acting her role to perfection.

“… and poor Zoe still slightly shocked, approaching a prone Walking Dead in the snow and upon investigation attacked.” Dione waving an arm in Zoe’s direction and Zosime the first to comfort her with an embrace and a warm smile. Zoe rotated the skinned snow rabbit on the spit to confirm her return from shock, now supported by her sisters and their company, her silence accepted just as Dione predicted. The fire to be extinguished once again once the cooking concluded, nevertheless a fortunate and timely beacon to guide their sisters to their camp when struck.

Chewing on a portion of charred rabbit flesh, staring into the dying flames of the campfire Zoe’s thoughts returned to her departing encounter with the wolf pack leader, who she discovered to be more than possibly imagined. The wolf pack leader explained, while an animal changer; the winter wolf and brown bear her forms, her heritage enabled more, claiming to also be a Shapeshifter. Zoe’s innocent doubt prompting a demonstration, “growing her breasts” as Zoe fondled them in their throws of passion. Keen to impress her young consort, a more startling transformation occurred, the wolf pack leader’s female body transforming into a masculine form of herself, with male parts, otherwise retaining her feminine mystique. The large breasts dissolving before Zoe’s eyes replaced with a hairless and smooth skinned muscular chest. Zoe’s first touch of a male, her naked body lying upon the new and foreign form, a nervous excitement and fear rising within.

Zoe remembered the tug of pain; her hand automatically squeezing the rabbit flesh in response, to try and ease the remembered hurt. The small dab of blood upon the white snow proof of her lost virginity. While her sisters slept soundly, Nysa and Kyra eager to share the burden of guard duty with Dione’s stallion, Zoe didn’t, drifting in and out of a light slumber trying to come to terms with the past day and her failings, burdened by revelations.

+++

Dione and stallion couldn’t push her sisters and their horses anymore. Each horse dressed to varying degrees in a lather of sweat, the rider typically slumped in their saddle with dark circles under their sunken eyes more closed than open. The first day after camping past Farstay the greatest challenge as Dione thought the Dark Priest still within easy reach and therefore quickly caught if they hurried. They broke camp well before dawn, all sisters in agreeance and keen to pursue and make up for lost time.

As dusk of the first day greeted them, only Dione and her stallion still able to ride ahead and glimpse their quarry. Returning in the night to a camp in darkness, no campfire, horses and humans resting where they dropped, she revived them with words of encouragement, which they answered to return to the hunt. The remaining night of the first day, the daylight of the second, eating in the saddle, briefly stopping in the middle of the day to water and feed the horses couldn’t compete with a quarry walking day and night without any need for sleep, food or rest.

Dione’s reports guilted them into riding into the night until dawn of the third day, their reservations and doubt extinguished by Zoe, their huntress assuring them of the certainty of success, the occasional sighting tantalising, drawing them onwards, always falling short, out of reach.

Late afternoon on the third day Dione called a halt upon a gentle rise in the land. They observed the last of his escort through drained eyes, facial bones clothed in stretched pale skin, thinned due to lack of proper nourishment, their spent bodies draped over equally spent horses. The relentless shuffle and sway of the Walking Dead untiring, continuing their straight-line escape gaining distance yet again and the Daughters of the Duchess helpless due to exhaustion, Dione included although fairing the best. Their quarry would never tire, and with an absolute obedience cart the Dark Priest to safety. Dione finally coming to her senses realising even if they did catch him, they wouldn’t be in any condition to fight, in fact helpless to defend and easily slain. A shiver rippled down Dione’s spine in a moment of clarity amongst the haze of disappointment, what if the pursued decided to pursue.

Dione and her sisters rested upon their horses too tired to dismount observing their enemy fade away in the distance until finally disappearing below a gentle dip in the land. The forest easily in reach from there to cradled them, hide them and consumed them. Dione didn’t know much about the forest on the Eastern border of the Duchy, save for Charis’ dread recollections, always a nightmare and horror, occasionally disturbing her sleep in the early days. Six tired sisters on horseback defeating the Dark Priest in the open with Judge’s light and blessing a feint possibility, within the maze of a forest dismounted, sapping the little strength left to them, easily trapped and surrounded, most likely resulting in their deaths.

Dione scanned the line of sisters and their spent beasts of burden and knew this pursuit done. All their tired, skin on bone faces returned the same answer, Zoe especially spent, the guilt of complicity gnawing at her. Perhaps if they didn’t fight most of the night to defeat the Dark Priest’s assault on the Cavern or simply used the Shrine of Saph to wait and rest in Farstay until the Walking Dead horde approached, leading the villagers while on horseback, well rested, they would have succeeded. Her stallion snorted in derision, use of the Shrine would mean leaving him behind.

While Astera’s timing proved a half a night off, her plan to utilise the Shrine sound and perhaps Dione’s own defiance threw Astera off she conceded, trying to placate a wayward sister instead of planning the pursuit. The lesson pained Dione. Searching for a way to avoid blame Dione considered the option to chase immediately after the battle, possible although the resulting battle in a field of inert Walking Dead a risk. What if the Dark Priest could call them to service once again? To catch them after some rest and using the Shrine to wait in ambush with villager support their best opportunity, the best balance between risk and success. Dione rested her mind, somehow, she must still succeed. How?

Nysa contemplated their situation, the benefit of hindsight screaming loud and clear. If the Dark Priest escaped past the village of Farstay they simply needed to accept failure, the tireless not dead too advantaged when fleeing before the living. Astera in her messages relayed to them by Zosime hinted at return. Dione, confident of success didn’t listen, all the other sisters too tired to challenge the leadership of a former founding member, one of the Ladies Three and Astera didn’t command them to return because Nysa now suspected she didn’t want to risk her tenuous authority over Dione.

“Well if we return another day to destroy the Dark Priest, there will be no need to track him, where his minions walked, they have churned the ground and destroyed any life within the soil,” offered the farm girl in Nysa.

“I will still accompany you sister as my bow could still be of use,” replied Zoe, flashing a weary smile and trying to redeem her honour.

Nysa sensed Dione’s surrender of leadership, consumed by inner thoughts, self-absorbed while wistfully scanning the untouchable forest. “There is still light, we must ride away from here.” Upon hearing their sighs Nysa rounded upon them. “We don’t have to gallop, a steady walking pace for certain as the forest, the Dark Priest’s probable home is too close and to stay within his reach foolish.”

Alexis and Zosime nodded the others too tired, Dione still deep in thought.

“Dione! Lead the way please,” commanded Nysa.

Five sets of eyes rested upon Dione, expectant. Dione’s confusion dismissed by a flick of Nysa’s head indicating a direction away from the forest. Sore and tired, they followed Dione, her indomitable stallion resigned to defeat easing around walking back the way they journeyed. The head of the stallion tossing in defiance and yet obeying. Zoe resented Dione and her blackmail, they would have quit a day sooner accept Dione whispered a threat into Zoe’s ear. If the Dark Priest now chased them, due to Dione’s stallion, Dione would be certain to escape and survive, even now after the short rest the beast easily reached for a second wind, head raised and neighing, once again stretching out transitioning from a walk to a trot.

“Dione if you and your mount have the energy then perhaps you should patrol behind us,” shouted Nysa.

Her stallion quit his trotting as if lightning struck him. Dione rested in the saddle until her sister’s mounts passed by, a frustrating wait, their nags false stepping, heads down and often angling their walk off centre until corrected by their exhausted rider.

Dusk at the end of the day and the Eastern Forest loomed in the distance, large treetops and tree trunks highlighted by the setting western sun. Nysa knew their progress slow and the forest far too close, helpless to correct either. Zoe hunted; none could dissuade her, raising her voice to silence any further objections. Well into the evening, the night about them Zoe returned dragging a deer haunch then collapsing. Burnt venison roused her, waved under her nose by Zosime, which she snatched out of Zosime’s hand with her teeth too tired to move. The flames of the campfire danced before her eyes, tired of mind unable to speak she nevertheless noted the fire too large and why didn’t her sisters set the fire into ground by digging a hole. Also, the horses, why didn’t they form a flesh ‘hide’ around the fire and her sister’s bodies an inner ring in between horse and low flame. Surely, they would extinguish the fire now the cooking done and with that final thought Zoe fell into a deep sleep.

The horses smelt them first, rearing while tethered, lashing out with their hooves as best they could when assaulted. Dione’s Stallion called to its Mistress to wake and since free to roam and patrol caused havoc amongst the Walking Dead attackers, retaliating, able to manoeuvre, the lessor horses restrained by the rope line, handicapped and eventually brought down.

The Stallion’s neighing woke Zosime and Alexis first, Nysa and Kyra a close second, while Dione shook Zoe to no avail, dead tired. Forming up around the campfire, several vital moments slipped by until they woke up to the fact the Walking Dead avoided them. They all ran to defend their horses, the Walking Dead intent on horse flesh. Nysa and Kyra went into battle with just their sword and shield, fighting topless a loin cloth their only armour. Each strike of their swords reduced a Walking Dead corpse to dust and released the essence contained within. Zosime, Alexis and Dione stood protectively around Zoe armouring up as a possible reserve.

With the Walking Dead defeated the battlefield still screamed as wounded horses cried out in pain. With terrible sadness Zosime and Alexis found their great veins and mercifully relieved them of their misery. Only Dione’s stallion, able to manoeuvre and ably fight back survived relatively unharmed and in quick time bandaged in exacting detail since he informed Dione of each injury.

“Where are we close to Zoe?” asked Nysa.

“All of this land is new to me and I followed the obvious trail as much as everyone else, the forest is still close, although the mountains can be seen to the North in the light of day.”

Dione, leading her stallion, patched up and ready, joined the discussion.

“Lonely Keep would be my educated guess as Bircharbor is far to the south, I think. Plus it has the advantage that we shouldn’t get lost with the forest on one side, the mountains ahead of us and if we miss we will either strike the trail that leads there or the foothills of the mountains behind all the while angling our walk away from the forest until we see the Keep.”

“We keep this same distance from the forest?” asked Alexis.

Stroking her stallion’s mane Dione replied, “No, the Dark Priest has already demonstrated he can strike us at this distance from the forest so we will walk in an eastly direction while also heading slightly north, so we close the distance on the Lonely Keep.”

“We go now,” commanded Nysa, lifting Zoe to her feet and holding her upright until awake enough to stand unassisted.

When no one made any noise, Nysa tried again.

“Break camp, grab as many saddle bags as we can carry and stuff them with food and essentials, then start walking using the Borrow Gems. To me his plan clear, the first attack to slay our horses and keep us here, possibly expecting us to relax after surviving and even going back to sleep and then attacking again.”

Nysa couldn’t catch all their faces as her sisters milled about, satisfied though when no one voiced any disagreement and started doing exactly what she ordered including Zoe and within a bell they abandoned their campsite and slain horses. Zoe couldn’t be absolutely sure of the direction but given the nearly straight line of the trampled path she guided her sisters directly away in what she estimated to be roughly East of North.

Zoe voiced her logic to be certain. “When you walk you will favour your dominate hand, mine is right so if I do stray, I will favour East while travelling North and at least guide us away from the forest. If we find the trampled path again, we will have walked in a circle! Hopefully though I will have more trail sense and keep us more Northerly.”

None disagreed or even spoke of anything else.

They rested after a night of walking, breaking out salted meat as a glorious yellow-orange dawn broke from the East. They trudged over numerous rolling hills to finally rest upon one. The landscape completely devoid of any farms the thin snow cover allowing the green grass shoots of Birth Season to push up. No farms even abandoned ones meant they needed to walk a great deal longer. Perched upon their hill all eyes scanned the distant forest. Fortunately, the only one of their party unconcerned about the forest and more concerned about feeding on the new grasses grazed upon the Western side of the hill and immediately smelt their decaying rot, neighing a warning, the same as last night.

Dione didn’t need to look; her stallion shared his view. “Sisters we have some company, Walking Dead West of South for the moment hidden in the trough of a rolling hill, so do we fight or run.”

Nysa unsheathed her sword, dropping the scabbard then equipping her shield. “Defend. Dione do you think your horse fit enough to be ridden so you can scout, while we prepare. I would hate to think we aren’t seeing all of them and some sneak up on us!”

Dione vaulted onto her stallion and the beast leapt into life galloping away. Dione deciding to search for the enemy in the places where she didn’t see them. Zosime assisted Nysa and Alexis assisted Kyra into their full armour while scanning the hills. Zoe kept watch on the other points of the compass her bow strung, an arrow nocked, although not drawn back. Zosime and Alexis once finished with Nysa and Kyra, equipped their own armour, a softer leather except for the chest. Zosime handed Alexis a couple of her daggers, her blessed daggers, even though they were balanced to be thrown they would make do as stabbing daggers.

Nysa noticed the hand-off. “You may as well return the daggers Alexis, the Village Priest made the same mistake, the blessing of Judge is tied to the person as much as the weapon. When some of his flock discovered the difference, all the villagers, including those blessed thought Judge deserted them and a panic bloomed, which the Priest couldn’t rally them from.”

Reluctantly Alexis returned the throwing daggers, drawing her own slightly longer stabbing daggers at least forewarned.

Nysa and Kyra charged into the scattered horde destroying the enemy before they could concentrate their numbers on either one of them. With Judge’s Light on their weapons the Walking Dead turned to dust with every hit. Zoe alert on overwatch to further protect the Judge Knights, releasing only when absolutely necessary to ensure she didn’t unduly attract attention, although Zosime lingered nearby at the ready. Alexis took up the watch now vacant due to Zoe’s new duty. The evil swarmed about the two Judge Knights, Nysa in particular needing on occasion to beat a hasty retreat. Zosime destroyed several with throwing daggers while staying mobile, at times being slowly chased by strays. Alexis climbed after Zoe who retreated to low limbs of a tree barely more than a sapling, dangerously swaying while accommodating both of them. As the Walking Dead gathered around the tree they tended to look up, presenting an easy eye socket target to stab an arrow in. Towards the end Dione and her stallion returned to crush the remaining few.

All the sisters gathered around their saddle bag camp and dropped fatigued to the ground, especially Nysa and Kyra. Both realising they should be dead instead of dead tired as the number of Walking Dead would have normally overwhelmed them with ease.

Nysa scanned the tired faces and with reluctance spoke her mind. “We need to keep moving, not only are we being chased but snow melt has commenced and once in full swing, all the abandoned fields of the old farms will turn to deep mud and even the trails between them won’t be kind to us.”

All nodded and with effort climbed to their feet. While protesting to Dione, her stallion nevertheless permitted the saddlebags of the sisters, part way reducing their burden. Dione continued to scout ahead regardless, her stallion accepting the weight handicap.

Middle of the day, Dione galloped towards them, her urgency causing Nysa to call her sisters to arms.

“Nysa! Nysa, trouble!”

“Take a breath Dione, take a moment and compose yourself.”

“Many follow us, but that isn’t the worst of it.” Dione swallowed. “I came upon some prone lifeless bodies. As I cautiously approached, they rose and lurched towards me. They could have waited until I closed the distance and try to attack me, but they didn’t, they spread out and chased me, no, they herded me back to here. They know where we are Nysa.”

Nysa took the news well enough, scanning the trail ahead. “I don’t see how, although I don’t know what magic the Dark Priest may or may not have. What I do know is during the day we are more powerful so while sunlight remains, we must hurry.”

Before dusk they encountered several abandoned farms, after meeting and defeating Dione’s sleepers along the way. The token remnants of civilisation cheering them, and they needed cheering, the trails gathering mud from snow melt, further tiring already tired legs and their lack of sleep compounding their fatigue. They spied Dione in the distance waving them on. With a final effort they broke into a jog and joined Dione to admire a run down but otherwise intact two-story farmhouse, once upon a time the holding of a wealthy farmer.

“Good enough?” asked Dione trying to add life to her voice.

Nysa’s smile grim, while resting to catch her breath. “Will your stallion be happy on the ground floor?”

Dione patted his neck. “He will make do.”

Zoe scouted ahead arrow nocked, flanked by Zosime and Alexis. Nysa and Kyra cautiously advancing, Dione mounted on her stallion between them surveying beyond the immediate vicinity of the farmhouse. The stallion occasionally issuing a reassuring neighing.

The house structure proved solid, one of the two opposing doorways on the ground floor still boasted a proper door. With a bell of daylight remining the sisters made themselves at home and improved the defences instead of further travel. This amounted to stuffing a pile of furniture into the ground floor doorway without a door, securing the other doorway by closing the door and lowering the sturdy wooden crossbar. With an abundance of furniture, the sisters considered blocking the stairs, Dione objecting until suddenly her resistance ended when a clopping of hooves climbed the stairs. After cheering the stallion on with words of encourage they assisted Dione to walk her stallion up the stairs to the second storey politely ignoring the creaks and groans from the supporting timber. The sisters pumped the nearby well filling the water skins they carried and filling any buckets within reach for them and the stallion. The sisters then carefully stacked furniture on the stairs to the top floor, more as a hindrance and to ensure anyone using them would create noise and be delayed.

Oddly Dione’s stallion laid down in comfort, a torn wool filled mattress dragged from a bed long ago meeting his needs. Dione propped up against his chest, the beasts head upon her lap. The sisters shared salted meat for their night meal wondering what the rest of the night and the next day would hold. Zosime and Alexis took first shift, Dione and Zoe the next. Nysa and Kyra would witness the dawn if not woken and called to arms sooner.