Chapter 59: The Road Ahead

The next morning found the companions setting out from Gonida’s guest house with a few sore heads among them. It had been a slower start than they had planned, and it was clear from the near-empty streets in the elven village that many of the locals had been carousing late into the night, too.

All the same, it was a pleasant morning, with a scraping of white cloud over the blue sky, and a gentle breeze blowing from the south.

Before departing the village, Warlik went to inspect the trail ahead, while the rest of the small group moved over to the village store, hoping to stock up on food and bandages. Inside, they were surprised to find Ramiz manning the counter.

“Good morning,” said Alcar, waving at the elven man, who – he noticed – was again smoking.

“Hey there,” said Ramiz, looking around the room for a moment before focusing on the door, as if customers could arrive from any angle. “Ah, the humans, and the half-elf! You’re still here! It’s been, what... a week?”

“Urm, half a day, actually,” said Leppie. Like Alcar, the healer had moderated her consumption of wine the night before. “Now, can you point me in the direction of some dressings and bandages?”

“Woah... you’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, dude. I’m just shopping.”

“It’s just, well...” Ramiz took a stumbling step back, leaned on the counter, and puffed hard on his cigar as if he was on the point of hyperventilating. “I hate injuries. I could never be a warrior, girl! Can’t stand blood, even the thought of it.”

“Never mind. I’ll find them myself,” muttered Leppie.

With little-to-no assistance from the spaced-out elf, the companions quickly assembled a selection of food and supplies that didn’t entirely make up for what they had lost on their journey, but certainly made Alcar feel more positive about the days ahead, even though he knew that he would need to part with several more coins for his share:

1 long loaf of rye bread

Half a round of hard cheese

A pot of pickled fish paste

10 smoked fish fillets

6 small paper bags of dried beef strips

3 meaty bones for a dog

12 apples

1 small sack of powdered stew (12 servings)

18 honey and oat trail bars

1 jar of healing salve

4 small wound dressings

4 large wound dressings

3 long strips of bandages

However, to Alcar’s surprise, Ramiz waved away any attempts by the group to pay him. “No, man. My brother said he’d cover it all. Insisted that nobody in the village should charge you a single rigg. No joke.”

“How so?” said Etienne, who had been rubbing at his temples for most of their time in the store.

“It’s because of your buddy in the green robes there. Brought them the lewin pickles, didn’t he? Great delicacy and rare. Roebers feels the whole village ought to show... what’s the word?” Ramiz scratched at his chin for about five seconds. “Gratitude. That’s it.”

As the companions left the elven settlement and hailed Warlik who was waiting up ahead, Alcar munched into the first of the apples and thumped his staff down with satisfaction as he walked. For once, it felt like they were setting out of a morning in an unhurried and well-prepared way, without the threat of Imperial troops immediately behind them.

Soon, Riverhome Village began to recede behind them. “This trail will cut over hill and through valley,” said Ubund gravely as they began to walk up the next slope. The vep-te guide pointed to their left, in a direction that Alcar assumed was north-east.

“But in the end,” said Leppie, “it will take us to the right place? To the trail we were aiming for?”

The guide nodded. “Yes. The trail between Gilmour Village and your destination. This path will reach it before too long. Valley, top of the next hill, and then down the slope.” The guide waved one hand ahead as he spoke.

Leppie now smiled sweetly at Ubund. “Thank you.”

“No problem, healer.”

Etienne nodded. “And once we are on the trail proper, I think we will make rapid progress to our destination.”

Ubund grunted. “First, the hills.”

As they walked on, Olynka moved ahead and began to ask questions of the taciturn vep-te archer. Alcar felt gladdened to observe this; he could imagine how frustrating it had been for his friend to be without her own master archer for guidance, particularly so soon after being apprenticed to Lox’aar.

Not unlike himself, indeed.

But now, things were looking up. Lox’aar was injured but safe, and Olynka could perhaps learn a few things from Ubund while they traveled together.

As for him, well... he still had the book, and after a day of rest, it felt likely that he would have fully replenished his magical energy again. A bit more practice, and perhaps he could start to control his powers a bit more. The razor reeds from the herbalist would help.

And let’s be honest, he told himself – his blast of flame at the kobolds back at the gulley hadn’t been too bad for a beginner.

Besides, they had now met with Warlik again, and had even gained more information on Master Maluhk. When they had the book, they would return to Katresburg in triumph.

Hell, perhaps Kora and the other escapees from the goblin caves would be getting the revolution started in their absence.

For a sweet moment, as Alcar breathed deeply of the fresh air of the Trollbone Hills, it felt to him like nothing could go wrong.