“You’re really sure about this route?” Wenrich asks again, sat on the bench with reins in hand, seemingly fine and ready to go, but his tone betrays his concern clear as his words.

Kesla’s already spurring her destrier on up the scree-cluttered path, urging him on but careful as she goes, and I’ve never seen someone with such impressive control of a horse in my life. Me, I’ve never been that happy in the saddle. Oh, I can ride fine, they made sure I learned back in the Guild, but I don’t think I’m really built for horseback. I don’t mind the great outdoors, we’re working and we’re making progress, but I’m a city boy really. Always have been. Gimme street life and crowds and a nice noisy tavern over fields and woods and forests any day. I’ll go wherever Kesla goes, but I’m happier when I can pay money for food and sleep in an actual bed.

Spurring after her, I look back over my shoulder to Wenrich and shrug. “Read into that what you will, Master Clearwood.”

He doesn’t scowl at me, although I reckon he wants to. Instead he just cocks a brow like he always does and shoots a look at Gael, who’s clearly determined not to get involved as they simply urge their horse forward too and follow me. Krakka and Driver 8 are still behind the cart, waiting for Wenrich to set off, intending to take up the rear today. Once again Yeslee’s gone on far ahead on foot, setting off scouting while we were still busy packing away our gear and saddling the horses, so her gelding is placidly tethered to the back of the cart.

Turning back to the road ahead, I stay on Kesla’s tail, careful but as gently forceful as I dare with my own bay filly, wary as I can be given the poor footing these precarious mountain paths provide. We’ve left the woods behind for now, deep in the relatively barren, rocky environs of craggy boulder fields, jagged ridges and narrow gullies littered between the vast peaks that surround us. We’re keeping to the more open trade routes as much as we can, but this is an ever-changing landscape with the possibilities of rockslides and erosion presenting a constant danger of fresh obstacles, and we’ve had to detour twice in the past day already. More than that, I doubt I’m the only one among us feeling a tad exposed after leaving the relative cover of the trees – we’re too exposed out here, too easy to find. Last night’s watch was a lot more pregnant with dread possibility than the previous ones.

The going is tough, but for the next few hours we seem to make reasonable time, navigating two more passes by noon and deciding to give the horses a half-hour rest while we take some food at the third. I pull out a few pieces of the new cured venison and throw one to Gael before they have a chance to start rummaging for themselves, and they smile back at me after getting over the initial surprise. They take a few idle strides round the rocky space, stretching their legs, and I join them as we chew, quietly ruminating.

“How you holding up?” I ask after a minute, giving them the subtlest sidelong glance I can. They catch it easily.

“How do you mean?” There’s a slight flush to their cheeks, but it fades quickly enough.

“Y’know, with all this constant exertion.” I shrug. “Kes has got you working your arse off every night before dinner with the training, then you’re in the saddle all day. I’m impressed you’re so steady on your feet.”

“Oh, I’m … I’m fine.” They look round at the others, then down at the ground. Their hair falls into their face then, and they shove it out of the way without ceremony, only for it to tumble right back again. They’ve left their hood down since we entered the woods a few days ago, and I’m enjoying the relatively novel experience of getting to see all their features so clearly. “Um … Krakka’s been helping me out.”

I think about it for a moment, then I get what they mean and I nod, smiling. “Oh yeah. Cool. That’s real smart actually.” I chew a little more, then swallow, all the time chancing another sideways glance at their face. Those eyes really are incredible, I don’t think I ever saw eyes so blue in my life. “You’re getting better, too.”

They don’t blush this time, and when they lock eyes with me there’s none of their usual reluctance, however small, to maintain contact. Instead they’re just genuinely excited. “You think so? Really?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. I mean, you still got a ways to go, but you’re definitely improving. I mean, sure, I dunno if you’ll ever actually be able to challenge her, but –”

“Oh gods yes, you’re right there.” A little bit of a blush returns to their cheeks again at that, but their smile’s still so sweet and pure I’m a little taken aback by it. “I know she’s holding back a lot with me. But I’m trying my best, every night.”

“You’re right, she is. Course she is, it’s in ‘er blood. You know about her dad, right?”

“He trained soldiers for Rundao’s army. Taught in the military academy.”

That makes me smile. Figures Kesla would undersell that too, she’s never been one for seeking praise, even if it’s vicariously through her own late father’s achievements. “In his youth, Edhril Shoon was the finest non-commissioned warrior in the entire Rundao army. First through the breech at Lohtaur and Yeren, fought in countless battles and won dozens of commendations. The most decorated man-at-arms in the entire Tabaphic First Regiment, and they were the army’s elite. If he’d been highborn he would’ve been a proper bloody legend as a knight. The Tektehrans couldn’t kill ‘im, and gods know they tried hard.”

“And after that they just made him a drill sergeant? What kind of justice was that?”

This time I laugh. “He wasn’t a drill sergeant. When he mustered out at forty, the higher-ups knew they couldn’t waste that kinda talent, so they put him in charge of training their elites. All their most promising cadets, from day one, they gave ‘em to him. He got to hand-pick the drill sergeants, designed the training regimen, all of it. He ran the whole elite school in Tabaphic. Didn’t just handle grunts and officers, either. They even had him train highborn squires. Y’know, future knights.”

They raise their eyebrows at that. “So when Kesla grew up …”

“Oh yeah, he taught her everything he knew, right alongside the cadets. She grew up with boys who were gonna to be the army’s best and brightest, future heroes like her dad. And she outshone almost all of ‘em.”

“Except they didn’t allow women to serve in the army.” They sigh as they understand the awful truth at the heart of the riddle that is Kesla Shoon. “Oh, that’s cruel.”

“Maybe, but Edhril Shoon loved his daughter, and he was gonna let her be whatever she wanted, even though they wouldn’t let her serve. So he trained her hard as the rest of ‘em, and she did ‘im proud every day. She earned the respect of the cadets and the instructors the hard way.”

“And then the Occupation happened, am I right?” Gael sighs again. “I was still young when that happened, all I know is what we learned second-hand in the Academy. The invasion hit Tabaphic hard, didn’t it?”

“That’s what she said. One day, the Tektehrans were overrunning the border up north, the garrisons were being swept underfoot. So the regiments in Tabaphic started to muster, ready to march up and reinforce what was left of the northern army, fight the invaders back. Except that the next day, the Terrors were in the city. The army had to scramble to mount a defence against an enemy that had already surrounded them, and it was bloody fighting, right in the streets. They took Tabaphic in less than forty-eight hours.”

“What happened then?”

“My da died defending the training barracks alongside his sergeants and his students. A lot of them died too. I was fighting right there with ‘em, I should be dead as well.” I’m as surprised as Gael is to find Kesla’s joined us, that’s gotta be one the sneakiest approach she’s ever made on me. Then again, I was a little distracted.

“But you didn’t die.” Gael seems a little sheepish now, but she forges on all the same. “You escaped.”

“Somehow. I dunno. It was a mess. When we were finally overrun, I tried to get to da, but those bastards were too thick. By the time I got there he was half buried in their dead, and he’d all but bled out. I held my father as he died.” She closed her eyes for a few long moments, clenching her fists tight, but it passes. This ain’t the first time she told this story, she’s close to making her peace with it. “I was ready to die there too, but some of da’s friends got me outta there. They had to drag me, really. In the end all I had left was this.”

She draws Hefdred, carefully lifting the bare blade with her left hand, lets the light play off the steel. It’s a beautiful weapon, even if it ain’t my kinda thing. I like my blades built for finesse, lean and slender steel with very little weight I can move fast with. The bastard sword’s a weapon for a much more powerful warrior, long and heavy and brutal. It might not sound like much of a compliment but I think it suits Kesla very well, and if I’m honest I think she’s even more deadly with it than I am with mine.

“I’m sorry.” Gael’s voice has gotten very small now.

“It was a long time ago, or ‘least that’s what it feels like now.” Kesla sheathes the sword again, letting her heavy buckskin coat settle over it with her left hand while she brushes the right back through her hair. She washed the grease out of it in the stream the other day and she’s let it just hang loose since. Personally I prefer this, it makes her look kinda rakish. “We fought for a while. I wasn’t built to be ruled, not by those fuckers. Not after they took everything I had. But that didn’t last either, so I fell back on all I had left. My training. So here we are.”

Gael nods, still solemn, but a little more thoughtful now, and Kesla seems to be mellowing again too. After a few moments I toss her the last piece of meat in my paw and she looks at it thoughtfully, then cocks a brow at me. “You remember what I said about this one, Gael. He bears keeping an eye on.” Her grin’s cocked, and she tips me a wink before she turns and moves away to join Krakka, who’s sat on a boulder low on the nearest slope, polishing his hammer with an oily rag. Driver 8’s stood a little way back down where we came from, watching the path we already travelled, while Wenrich’s still sat on the cart, looking out the way we’re headed.

“I ever tell you how we met?” I say to Gael as I watch Kesla settle down on the boulder beside the cleric, already settling into one of their companionable silences.

“No, you never did, and she’s never mentioned it either.” Gael’s looking at me with clear curiosity now, any embarrassment they might’ve been clinging to clearly forgotten.

That has me grinning, I can’t help it. They return it warmly, so I oblige them with the tale. “This was three years back now, I think. Back when it was just Kesla and Yeslee as a lonely pair of ne’er-do-wells drifted down into the southlands from up north. Me, I’d been wandering for a while myself, just felt like it was time to see the world after spending all my time up ‘til then in Untermer.”

They arch their brows again at that. Figured someone who’d lived most of their life in Bavat could sympathise, even if the two cities are so wildly different.

“So anyways, I was in this tavern in a tiny little village somewhere down there. Can’t even remember the name of the place, it was so insignificant, though you’d think I should remember, it being such an auspicious day for us an’ all that.” I shrug, while Gael’s just listening intently. “I was doing my thing, like always, thief’s gotta work and all that, and this place was proper busy. Guess I timed it just right, this bunch of drovers were in that were moving cattle through to sell down in the city, so there were strangers everywhere. I figured I got a sweet opportunity here for some quick cash so, like I done a thousand times, I glided in, sharp an’ quiet like always, and in the jam I picked the first pocket that offered itself up.”

“Oooooh, don’t tell me. It was Yeslee, wasn’t it?” She chuckles a little. “She broke your wrist, like I heard she always does.”

“Worse. It was Kesla. Not that I knew it at the time. See, she’s tall and she’s big, so I figured it was some guy, probably a merc working security for the cattle drive. So in my paw went, and then I felt this grip like a vice clamp down on it. Now that woman is strong, it’s scary. I realised I’m caught, and I figured I’m fucked. I’m about to get seven bells beat outta me. I’ll be lucky to get outta here alive once he gets a look at my face. Then she turned around.”

I look over at Kesla then, remembering the moment as I watch her speaking low and close to Krakka, who bursts out laughing, and her smile is free and easy. That calm again. It’s quite something. In truth, maybe that’s what saved me. “I’ll admit, I was genuinely surprised when I saw her face, but she was too, clearly. And she didn’t look at me like some folk do, especially in a situation like that. She just looked at me, mildly surprised but also, weirdly, kinda amused, then looked down at my wrist in her hand, my paw still stuck in her pocket. Then back up at me, and she looked me over then. Up and down. Then she smiled, I swear to god. Lifted my hand out of her pocket, let me go. Me, I just stood there. I swear I was rooted to the spot, I couldn’t have run if I tried.”

“What happened?”

“Well I was still a little rattled, and half of me was still expecting the beating, but now I was starting to think that was looking less likely by the moment. There was just something about her, y’know? That calm she has. It’s infuriating, but right then it was putting me at ease. Y’know what she asked me then?”

“I can’t imagine.”

“’So what are you drinking?’” I grin wide as Gael’s brows shoot up again. “I swear, I was thinking I’d be lucky getting outta there with a few cracks in the jaw just to remind me, instead she bought me a bloody pint. Then she pulled me over to her table, in the quietest corner of the whole place where Yeslee’d set up camp like she always does, and over the next few hours we proceeded to get completely shitfaced. I found out later that they had been working security for the cattle drive, and they were bored out their minds with how tedious that job is down south compared to working up here in the Reaches. I was the first interesting thing had happened to ‘em in weeks.”

Gael laughs at that, and I give them a little shoulder nudge that they don’t seem to mind, instead giving me what’s clearly an entirely playful light shove in response.

“Yeah, it was a good night we had then. One o’ the best nights I ever had, tell the truth. Me an’ Kes, we got on like a house on fire, right from the start. Yes, she was … well, she was Yeslee Toll about the whole thing, really. But she didn’t pitch me out on my ear, which I reckon says a lot. Next day when I ran into ‘em again Kes asked if I fancied spending a week earning some honest money for a change.”

“Simple as that?”

“It was, simple as that.” I nod, looking back at our leader again. She and Krakka are just enjoying each other’s quiet company again, and as she catches me looking she tips a little wink that has me grinning again. “Week later we saw the cattle off back in Untermer, got paid, and Kesla asked if I fancied trying something a little more permanent. By then even Yes had come round, so I was fine with it. So when they went north again I went with ‘em.”

“And the Creeping Bam was born.” Gael rolls their eyes a little when I nod, unable to lose their smile. “Where did that even come from, anyway?”

“The Creeping Bam?” I gently kick at some of the loose scree underfoot for a moment, now feeling a little sheepish and not wanting to give it away too clearly, so I try to seem nonchalant. Don’t reckon it works. “Oh, that was kinda … my idea. No big deal. Once Krakka was with us we figured we needed to know what to call ourselves, y’know, cuz for-hire parties need to have a recognised name so folk know who they’re dealing with. One night we were trying to work out what the name should be and I just said the Creeping Bam. We were most of us in our cups by that point, and it just kinda stuck.”

This time they almost double over, they start laughing so hard. My own smile has got real sheepish now, I can’t help it. “Oh gods, that’s adorable.”

“Yeah, well, it sticks in people’s heads sure enough.”

They let out a deep, happy sigh as they give me another little nudge. “That’s because they’re trying to work out what it means.”

“Maybe.” I allow myself a more amused little smile this time.

Kesla has us mount up again not long after, spurring ahead again as we start our descent with even greater caution with our horses than when we came up. The gully ahead is deeper than the one we left behind, but the once we’ve reached relatively level ground again the going’s easier, letting us make better time without having to watch our footing any more. The trade-off is that this makes me start thinking about what’s all around us again, including the possibility that there might be someone up there somewhere watching us, or maybe up ahead, plotting something. The continued silence of the rest of our group tells me I’m not the only one thinking it.

The mountains still tower over us, but here there are more gradual slopes in our immediate surroundings, more broken rockfaces with plenty of places for someone to hide above us and move around unseen. Haphazard ridges and hidden crevices where hostile eyes could be observing us, waiting to swarm out at us or signal our progress to friends elsewhere. I’m starting to tense up now, my paws clenching and loosening of their own accord, hovering close to knife hilts kept within easy reach. There’s room to manoeuvre now, I could throw a few darts the moment a target presented itself and then spur my horse into a gallop before the blades even hit. Looking round at the others I think they’re starting to come to similar conclusions. Gael’s looking nervous again, reaching inside their robe, probably checking over their own magical gear, just in case.

After a few minutes there’s the sound of small rocks clattering somewhere off to the right, and I rein my horse up, scanning that direction fast, looking out for any signs. Nothing I can see. Whatever that was, it wasn’t in sight. I look round again, find the others have stopped as well, and all of them are looking the same way I did, except for Driver 8 in the back. He’s looking back, the way we came.

“Oh yeah, I’m totally overreacting, aren’t I?” I mutter to myself, under my breath. Even so, when I turn back I find Kesla’s looking over her shoulder now, watching me.

“You feel that?”

“What?” I look round again, and now I realise the hairs standing up all along my spine aren’t just from the nerves. That watchfulness is more pronounced, more defined. Like it has a real source. I can’t place it, not yet, but it’s there, all the same. Not taking my eyes off the slope to the right, I nod, slowly. “Yeah, reckon I do.”

Kesla spurs her destrier on and I do the same, and we’re moving at a trot now, ready to break into a gallop if it all just kicked right off around us. I look back over my shoulder and see Driver 8’s stopped completely now, falling further back as he slowly turns, still scanning. I’m now convinced he’s picking up on something very real. Something following us, or already here.

The gully floor starts to rise now and the tension must be getting to her because Kesla kicks Ulrich into a canter ahead of me, no longer even trying to act casual. I do the same and my little filly jumps forward, clearly sensing my mood and responding in kind, and I have to rein her in a touch to stop her from galloping right here and overtaking Kesla. Another rockfall rattles out on my left now, then another on the right, and I’m sure now it ain’t accidental, no way it’s just small, unseen scurrying animals minding their own business.

Chancing another quick glance over my shoulder I see the others are now moving at an increased clip too, and Driver 8’s started moving again. He ain’t running yet, but there’s clear motivated haste in his pace as he starts to catch up within a stretch of moments. The square of those massive shoulders is expression enough for me to read his feelings. I don’t even try to hold my horse back now, I let her speed up all on her own, and within moments I’m pulling in alongside our leader.

“Something’s wrong all right.” I hiss sideways to her, holding the reins one-handed as my right picks a pair of darts out of their loops on their strap, ready to throw. “We’re being shadowed.”

“I know. Pull back now, give the others a heads-up. Don’t reckon we need to play this too subtle.”

Nodding, I rein the filly up hard and she rears for a moment, taken by surprise. Thank the gods she don’t throw me. Kesla carries on ahead, and the others are wise enough to keep moving in response, while I let my horse back up a little as they start to catch me up.

“What the hell’s going on?” Gael hisses at me as they rein up just behind, moving out of the way of the draft-horses as Wenrich brings the cart up.

“Trouble, looks like.” I nod up at the rocks in front, then cock my head to those behind. “Got some new shadows.”

Gael doesn’t look particularly surprised at that, tipping a very tight, clipped nod as they wheel their mare round to look up behind, clearly reading our lack of continued stealth right. Wenrich rolls right up beside us then, frowning over. “Something’s up, I take it.”

“Hopin’ it’s nothing, but it don’t look too good. Might wanna put a bit of pep into your horses, keep up with the boss.”

He nods too, snaps the reins hard and keeps it up, whipping the carthorses into a full canter that’s enough to set the wheels spinning and kick up a bunch of dust and scree. Behind him Krakka spurs his horse onwards at the same clip, with Driver 8 now right on his heels.

I pull the filly out and cross his path before he arrives, falling into pace with him while Gael matches us both on his far side. Like me he’s holding the reins one-handed, holding the warhammer in his other, low at his side with the head just resting over the horn of the saddle for balance, and his grip’s tight enough I can hear tendons creaking. “Now what?”

“Follow Kesla’s lead, and move.”

They both nod in response, and Gael urges their mare on fast, quickly catching up with the cart. I let Krakka slip ahead too, keeping the filly slow for Driver 8 to catch up with me. Those normally unreadable eyes are blazing bright as I ever seen now, and it gives me a little chill seeing it. “Y’know how many there are, Big Man?” I ask as he falls into step on my flank, and I give the horse a little more encouragement now.

“Half a dozen on either side of us, and they are keeping pace as well as they can on the rough terrain. There are more behind, and ahead too. We are effectively surrounded.”

“But they ain’t makin’ a move, they’re just shadowing us?”

“Correct.”

“Oh, that definitely ain’t good …” I look back up the track ahead and I can see Kesla’s already reaching the top of the slope, and she’s reining in. It takes me a moment to realise why, but then once I’m able to make sense of the geography ahead I start to get a sinking feeling. “Ah. That ain’t good either.”

Then I hear a great throaty bellow from up ahead, loud enough to rattle my bones as it bounces hard off the rocks and then repeats itself several times in a receding echo from the surrounding peaks. A few moments later there’s a response from somewhere behind us, similarly acoustic, and then another from somewhere on my right. Ain’t heard that sound for a while, and I been awful glad about it …

“Shit.”