The next morning, we were awoken by the sound of horns carrying on the winds as day broke. The merchants looked mildly concerned, if only because this was something they weren’t expecting while they were in the dangerous wilds, but the guards immediately brought their hands to their weapons, and Tandred began yelling orders, setting the caravan to breaking camp, before the morning meal had even been started.

When one of the merchants complained, the new caravan master literally growled at the man. “You stupid fool! There’s no time for that now! Get your things and get ready to leave, now! We’re moving out in ten minutes, whether you’re ready or not!”

I was among those who were ready the quickest. Living on the tundra, you learned how to pack or make camp quickly and efficiently. It helped when you were trying to make camp in the face of a sudden storm, or when you needed to move quickly. Fortunately, most of my stuff was already packed in my magical bag.

Looking over to Frostmane, I asked, “You have any idea what is going on?”

The wolf chuffed as he stretched his large body, shaking out his fur. “Those are goblin horns, Little Bird. The Stone Claw tribe must have realized that their warband has not returned, or sent word. The fact that the carrion birds are circling, means that a battle took place, but if the goblins have not returned, or sent word for aid in bringing the bounty back to their caves, then that bodes ill. The common practice would be that, if the warband was still alive, for them to sound their horn in response. With no horn coming, they will assume that the warband was wiped out.”

I nodded sharply. I could guess what would happen next. “So, scouts, possibly with magic to communicate what they find more easily. And then, once they confirm the death of their warband, it will likely be a hunt, as they try to avenge them. Their leader will have to, or he’ll look weak. Right?”

Frostmane chuffed. “You would have made a good wolf, Little Bird. Yes, that is how it will go. The Chief of the Stone Claws will find himself getting challenged, if he doesn’t send a group after us. Ideally, for him, they would catch and kill us, to prove his power, but the goblin would probably survive if he could ‘drive’ us from the mountains, chasing us until we left their domain. Makes him look more powerful, after all. And goblins are at least clever enough to come up with a plan of that sort, even if it would be a terribly brute force affair.”

Tandred hobbled up on his crutches as Frostmane finished speaking. “That is what I was afraid of, right enough. Do you have any idea how many might be coming after us, and from how far? I don’t expect that we’d be able to race goblin raiders all the way to Northport, not if they had mounts like worgs. Even if they were on foot, if they were close enough then we may find ourselves looking for a defensible position to hold them off, rather than forcing ourselves to rush and trying to defend while we are on the move.”

The wolf considered that, and said, “The Stone Claws could send out two, maybe three bands the size of the one you faced yesterday, if they aren’t out guarding other passes. Perhaps more, if they remove the guards from their caves. And the goblins would be stronger than the ones we faced. These were the weakest of the tribe, out to gain experience.”

Tandred looked sick. “So many?”

“They are some of the weakest creatures in the mountains. Without numbers, they have nothing. The Stone Claws are indeed getting too large for their own good, however. They’ll probably start leading raids soon enough, if they aren’t put down, or tread into someone else’s territory, and that will draw people looking to knock them down and put them in their place.”

The caravan master took a breath to steady himself. “And how far are these caves from here? How far will the goblins need to cover?”

Frostmane looked up at the mountains to the east. “As the Little Bird flies, they would be a flight of an hour, perhaps an hour and a half. A trained scout could cover the terrain in three hours, perhaps, if they knew the proper paths. Sound, of course, carries far in the mountains. If the goblins began organizing no response came to their call, then they could be out of the mountains by their own roads quickly, and be searching for the trail within hours.”

I interjected there. “But they won’t need to track us, right? I remember from the maps I saw in Sleetmouth, that there are no other major cities near the passes. The only place we would be going is Northport. How long until they could get in position to ambush our caravan?”

Frostmane shook his head. “I don’t know that. I’ve not been on the far side of the mountains before, much less venture down into the southlands. But I doubt it would take them any longer to reach the road than it would to search us out, if the way we are going is known.”

Tandred shook his head. “If we get to the trees, we should be good enough with just setting watches. But it will be a hard push to make the campsite by the road before night falls.” He sighed, “Nothing for it. We either push, or we deal with the goblins, and pray they are not too much for us. Given that Tymora has not smiled upon us yet, this trip, I’ll be less than surprised if we see more of her dark sister than we do her, more’s the pity.”

I shrugged. “If they come, they come. The best we can do at this point is get ready, and get moving, while looking over our weapons and armor. We can’t exactly force the goddess of Luck to answer our calls, after all.”

The caravan leader nodded, “True enough.” He took a deep breath, and turned to the caravan. “FIVE MINUTES! EVERYONE GET READY, OR GET LEFT BEHIND FOR THE GOBLINS!” Looking back to us, he said, “If what you said is true, then we will be needing to put as much distance between us and the Worldspsine Mountains as we can, as quickly as we can. Five minutes, and we’ll set off. Breakfast will have to be trail rations as we move.”

The caravan missed the five-minute mark, but not by much, and not for any lack of encouragement from Tandred and the guards. Still, the whispered warnings passing from ear to ear through the caravan had everyone moving faster, even as the stench of fear filled the air. They were still off before they would have normally been served the morning meal, so there was that, at least.

There was little speaking as the wagons drove through the pass in single file. Even Frostmane, who padded alongside the wagon I rode in, was quiet, his nose sniffing the air as we rode, searching for any scent of the goblins on the wind. The whole caravan felt as though it were waiting for some stroke of doom to fall upon them.

It was midday, and the sun was high in the sky when we finally made it out of the mountains. But no one drew a sigh of relief, or asked to slacken the pace. Indeed, we paused only briefly to feed and water the mounts, and when that was done and we returned to traveling, our speed only increased, now that we no longer had to worry about the rocky terrain, and were coming on to flatter ground. According to the maps I’d seen, this would have to be the Forest of Amalthur, and the road we currently were on allowed us to move swifter than we had before. The only reason we did not go faster still was that we still had a great way yet to go, and tiring the beasts of the caravan would only leave them in greater danger along the way.

I had never seen a forest like this in my new life. There was something oppressive about it, as though it only begrudgingly allowed us travelers to pass, and, if it could, it would rejoice in watching our mangled corpses decorate the limbs of its trees, our blood watering their roots. Even in Sleetmouth, there had been whispered tales of the Forest, for it was said that powerful Fey creatures lived there, and they would jealously guard their territory. It was, according to the tales, only a centuries old agreement between the Lords of Northport and the fey that the road was safe to travel at all. Anyone who tried to take a ‘short cut’ through the woods, or harvest wood from the living trees for a fire, or any other reason, were never seen again, or so it was said.

I didn’t know how much stock I put in these stories, but I had no desire to test them. In a world of myths and magic, where actual gods took a hand in the way the world worked, the stories could very well be true. Or, at least, they were a cover for something else lurking in the woods. Not that the truth would matter either way for us if we were dead.

The sun was just setting below the trees, leaving us in darkening shadows as we found ourselves in a sudden clearing. I could see, even in the dim light, the remains of many previous encampments, with even a well-built firepit placed in the middle of the clearing. It looked out of place, considering the frenzied pace of the day.

The guards breathed easier once they were inside the clearing. Looking to the merchant who was driving the wagon I was on, who had given me the advice on where to seek companions the night before, I asked, “What is it about this clearing that has everyone relaxing all of a sudden?”

The woman chuckled. “Ah, dearie, I forgot that you’re unused to traveling. Any campsite that has been used so often in the wilds that there are established structures, like that firepit, even as basic as it may be, is probably protected in some way. While it is no guarantee, as nothing in the world is ever truly safe, not in the wilds, we are far less likely to run into problems here, so long as we don’t do anything to anger the forest.”

I nodded slowly. “Because of some kind of Fey that inhabit the woods, right? Will it really matter all that much?”

“That I don’t know, child. But the goblins aren’t likely to pursue us so far into the forest, and even if they did, it would not be at full strength. They would have a few riders, perhaps, but nothing like what we saw today. No, so long as we don’t do anything to draw the forest creatures’ wrath upon us, we will be fine. And from here, it is a clear road to Northport. Naught but the occasional bandit crew to deal with.”

Frostmane was looking around, sniffing the air distrustfully. I walked up to him, and placed my hand on his furry shoulder. Looking over to me, he said, “This forest is dangerous, Little Bird. More dangerous than it lets on. The whole place smells of magic and the unnatural. I don’t know what it means.”

I took a breath, and looked through my ability to detect magic. It was like looking at giant, stained glass window when you simply wanted to know if there was color about. With a quick blink, I dismissed the ability. “Yes, there is magic in the air. I don’t know enough to identify it, but I don’t think it feels dangerous, not to us. If the source of the magic were to be disturbed, however…”

Frostmane nodded. “The forest would become far more dangerous, and things would be a great deal more difficult for the both of us. If we even survived it.”

I shook my head. There was no point worrying about it now. “Right, no going off, into the forest, unless we have to. Fortunately, the bags provide enough meat to feed you, even without hunting. You want me to brush your fur after we finish eating?”

“Mmph. Yes, that would be great, Little Bird.”

Smiling, I set about pulling out his ration of meat, while the rest of the caravan began preparing dinner. The first part of my plan for avenging the Smirk was in place. Now, I just needed to find some ribbons, so that, once he was more trusting, I could braid his hair…