Chapter 16 – The Blind Mountains

The sun drummed down on her head as they marched over a vast expanse of green fields that spanned as far as the eyes could see on each side, separating the merry forest behind them from the looming darker woods approaching up front. It was as if the flat grassland was drawing a line between the two distinct forests, as if the normal trees had deliberately chosen not to sprout any further, for fear of mixing with the creepy-looking foliage of the Blind Mountains.

Squinting in the harsh sunlight, Maeve scanned the daunting dreadful woods, already sensing how uncanny and unnatural the place was. A disturbing chill crawled on her skin as the darkness ahead promised nothing less than a bunch of eerie life forms dwelling in the midst of dangerous forces. She didn't like it one bit but kept her mouth shut because there were children and toddlers right behind her, and she didn't want to risk scaring them anymore than they probably were.

The trip from Southampton all the way to the edge of the Blind Mountains had been a good hour long and by the time they reached the outer rim of the forest across the field, Robin called for a halt so people could rest and adjust their packs and gear. Now was the time to fix problems if there were any, because once they stepped into the woods, there would truly be no turning back.

People drank water and sat down in the grass to catch their breath, while others adjusted the straps of their backpack and redistributed the weights in their satchels for better comfort. At some point or another, everyone threw weary glances at the Blind Mountains looming before them, dreading the inevitable.

As Maeve sat with Leisa to give their legs and feet a rest, the Radakeel tried to teach her the names of as many soldiers as she could, as well as those of the civilians she knew. That way Maeve learned the name of the little boy and girl traveling right behind them, Rose and Sam, with their mother, Ally, who was the wife of the soldier trekking by their side, David. The four of them depicted the perfect family, if not for the shadows of death lurking a couple of yards before them.

After fifteen minutes, Maeve's head was swirling with faces and names, half of which she had already forgotten and she kicked herself for it, but then again she sadly figured it was probably better that way, because not knowing someone's name somehow made their death easier to cope with, as terrible as that was, and as she looked around at the people gathered in the field, there was no telling who would make it through the other side of the mountains, a horrible truth that was slowly coiling around her heart like a poisonous vine.

When Robin came back from his inspection down the line of soldiers and civilians, he called the trek into motion again and everyone got to their feet, hoisting packs on their backs and grabbing childrens' hands.

And then, the long journey truly began.

As soon as they stepped into the Blind Mountains, the warmth of the sun vanished like a candle abruptly snuffed out, trading its place with the damp, bone-chilling air of the shadowed foliage. It was striking how the sunlight barely reached the ground at all, the canopy of the tall trees so thick that nothing could shine through, making everything around them appear dead, slimy and rotten, like a canvas painted with ashes.

Trees curled and bent at weird angles like broken limbs, their branches slick with putrid mud and moss, and the ground was anything but straight and flat, the perfect path to get a broken neck. Indeed, the trail, if there was any, twisted and coiled unpredictedly like a drunken snake, sometimes on squishy muddy ground, sometimes in a labyrinth of big slimy roots or through a wide expanse of slippery rocks and boulders. Sometimes they had to climb their way up while on other occasions they had to trek down treacherous slopes. People slipped and tripped, others twisted their ankles or sprained their wrists. Children were carried in soldiers' arms to cross swamps, women were pulled up abrupt slants and bags were passed from hands to hands across complicated tangles of rotten trees.

A couple of hours in, Maeve could barely feel her feet anymore as they were drenched with mud, her toes cold and numb and her heels burning with blisters. The weight of the satchels of apples and pears dangling at her hips had grown a great deal heavier, the straps digging wedges in her shoulders and straining the back of her neck.

She didn't know how much distance they had covered so far but it couldn't be more than a few miles. The trail was so difficult to travel on that their pace was as slow as that of a party of slugs. Her forehead was beaded with sweat from the exertion, her body ached at every joint and her stomach was churning, but there was no way she would utter a word about it, not even to rant about the incessant buzz of flies and bugs whizzing around their heads relentlessly and driving everyone crazy.

She simply kept her mouth shut and followed Robin as he led the way in front of her, winding his way expertly through the roots and the rocks, clutching his hand for support when he offered it and grabbing at his shirt to steady him when he lost his balance on rare occasions. Leisa often helped her as well, hiking behind her like a watchful guardian ready to bolt at any threat, steadying Maeve when she would trip, cutting roots and creepers out of the way and warding off snakes and rats when they ventured too close.

Robin called for multiple brief halts so they could catch their breath and nibble at some food but it was only for a couple of minutes. Maeve could sense he wanted to press on and cover as much ground as possible before darkness fell upon them, and who knew how long setting camp would take.

To take her mind off her burning muscles as they climbed their way up a wall of mossy rocks entwined with tangles of dead roots, against her better judgment, Maeve allowed her mind to wander to the crew, wondering if they were having a better time than she was at the moment, which, unless they weren't in the middle of a life-threatening adventure, wasn't hard to imagine at all. They were probably sitting in a tavern and drinking ale or maybe sailing swiftly under a sky full of glittering stars or perhaps sun-bathing on a white-sanded beach, and Sinbad could very well be kissing another woman and-

That brief wicked thought was enough to distract her as her fingers reached for the root above her head, the dry wood snapping like a twig. She stifled a scream, awaiting the hard fall but Robin swiftly reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her weight up and steadying her at once before she could tumble on Leisa right beneath her, her hands clawing for solid rocks.

Catching her breath, she cursed herself for letting her thoughts distract her like this. The Blind Mountains definitely weren't a place where she could let her mind wander, especially not on him, unless she wanted to pay the ultimate price with her life. Wouldn't that be something, she thought sullenly, to fall and break her neck before even facing off against the Skinwalkers or the Kawasseas...

Nevertheless, she couldn't deny how much she wished to be with the crew right now, away from the debilitating shadows of the dreadful woods and all the eerie creatures waiting around every corner to grab and pull their victims into the darkness. More than once she had stared back into pairs of glowing eyes hiding in bushes or under the troubled waters of the swamps, but Leisa had probed her onward every time, warning her it was best not to disturb what dwelled in the woods lest it snapped at them and took off with their hands or their whole arms.

Growing hypervigilant with every hour that passed by, her nerves were growing as exhausted as her muscles, raw and bruised by sustained efforts, not to mention how maddening it was to lose track of time in the rotten ashes of such a landscape. As it was, the shadows of the Blind Mountains always looked the same, a deadly grey as lifeless as old crooked graves, with no sunlight ever reaching the ground, thus she had no idea what time of the day it was anymore and she doubted anybody else knew it either. Except Robin, which is why she reckoned that dusk was finally upon them when he stopped the trek on a rather large, flat expanse of ground near the outline of a deep slope. Trees, roots and stones were still littering the rotten earth everywhere, but at least they wouldn't be sleeping in the middle of rocky slants or muddy swamps.

Soldiers and volunteers, women and children alike all gathered around, each person looking more battered, gritty and dirty than the other as they dropped their packs down at their feet with weary sighs, their faces twisting in pain as their shoulders were freed from their heavy loads.

Maeve did the same and dropped her packs down on the ground, closing her eyes with a wince as her entire body reveled in the bliss of lightness. Every single one of her limbs was completely worn out; her neck ached, her shoulders burned, her hips were rusted, her knees were buckling and her feet were swollen.

And this was only day one.

She slumped down on a rock and rummaged through her backpack for water, grimacing at the sight of her hands stained with mud. As she drank from her gourd, Leisa heavily sat down next to her, her blood-red braids the only vibrant color to gaze upon in the shadowed dullness of the woods. Her face was covered in sweat and dirt but remained emotionless as usual, showing no sign of pain or weariness at all, which was equally impressing and frustrating, as if the Radakeel was immune to any kind of physical exersion and could endure anything thrown her way, her hide as thick as iron. But perhaps that would change in the upcoming four weeks.

As people began to settle, unfurling bedrolls and passing out food, Maeve watched as Robin dropped his gear and packs a few feet away, his movements slow and heavy, with a faint grunt of pain escaping his lips as he strectched his back and rolled his shoulders. He looked positively drained, his features crisp and serious and painted with dry mud in some places, but when he looked down at her he forced a reassuring smile, as if he could see the flicker of concern in her eyes.

She stretched out her arm and handed him an apple from her satchel just when Leo, Coop, Mark and Simon joined them in a small commotion.

"I told you, you should have bought a new pair!" Mark roared as Coop hopped on one foot behind him, trying to keep up as he held his left boot in his hand.

"They were perfectly fine this morning!" he objected.

"They were completely threadbare from the last trek!" Mark roared again as he dropped his heavy packs on the ground.

Robin turned to his friends with a tired frown. "What's the problem?"

"Coop had a pebble the size of a grain of sand in his boot," Leo mocked as he kneeled down to retrieve bread and cheese from one of his packs.

Coop slumped down on a rock, propping his bootless foot on his knee to inspect his sole. "It was at least the size of a fist! The bloody thing gave me a huge blister!"

"Oh come on, it can't be that bad," Leo replied as he handed out food all around.

"It's my foot, I'll tell you how bad it is!" Coop grumbled with an annoyed frown.

"How did a rock that big get inside your boot?" Leisa asked before taking a bite of cheese.

"He stepped on a thorn," Mark explained grumpily, "which wound its way through the sole as easily as a knife slices up butter because it was completely worn-out." He threw Coop a look to make his point.

"Was not!"

"Was too! I told you to buy a new pair but you didn't listen to me!"

"Enough," Robin silenced them sharply. "Bring him to Lobelia to have his foot wrapped up. No matter how big the blister is, we can't let it get infected and cause a limp. We still have a month of trekking to do. Simon," he turned to the blond captain.

"Yes?"

"Tell the people to light as few fires as possible and to keep low," Robin instructed with a careful edge in his voice. "We don't want to attract attention."

Simon nodded and walked away, leaving the rest of their little weary party to nibble at bread and cheese and a few nuts around the poor imitation of a camp fire while Leo informed Robin of the minor problems they had encountered during the last trekking hours. A man had broken a toe tripping on a rock and a woman had slashed her shoulder slipping down a slimy slant. Both the civilians were fine for the time being, the old healer Lobelia taking care of them and soothing their pain with herbal ointments and concoctions.

The rest of the evening was spent tending to minor wounds, especially blisters, thorns and cuts, as well as filling up the water supplies in a nearby stream and boiling the water so it could be drinkable. Night shifts were also divided amongst the soldiers at six different spots in the camp site, and set up to change every three hours so they could all get a minimum of sleep.

Relieved not to be on watch, and suspecting Robin had deliberately omitted to include her in the soldiers' rounds, Maeve wrapped bandages around her palms where her skin was raw from all the rock climbing they had done, and she covered her blistered heels with patches of clothe to prevent further rubbing.

It felt as if they'd been travelling in the Blind Mountains for weeks already and she could hardly believe it. To think every day from now on was going to be as draining and taxing was inconceivable. She was tough and resilient in many ways but she was seriously beginning to wonder if the year she had spent onboard the Nomad had prepared her for this. She was a sailor, not a bloody mountain climber.

As darkness and silence fell in the midst of the convoy, a few fires softly glimmering in the sinister, creepy woods, Maeve watched tiredly as the others disappeared in their bedrolls for the night, Leisa making sure to settle down not more than five feet away from her, her Sleyans carefully tucked in place and ready to be unsheathed if need be.

She was slowly dosing off, her limbs screaming and begging for rest and sleep, when she heard Robin light a torch from their poor campfire, his cautious steps steering him away to gaze into the darkness down the steep slope alongside which the entire party was camped, his vigilant blue eyes scanning every shadow like a hawk.

With a wince, she pulled herself up to her beaten feet—she couldn't believe Robin was still up and walking—and she quietly made her way to his side, as if pulled by an invisible string and by the urge to loosen the shackles of duty he was locking himself into.

"Apprehension is a nasty little thing," she said softly not to startle him. "It will do you no good to worry about what will come to pass when we enter the Skinwalkers' territory. Right now, all these people are safe and that's all that matters."

"If I let my guard down, we're all as good as dead," he replied, his voice betraying the depth of his exhaustion, but the General inside him refusing to let him rest.

"But we're not deep enough into the woods yet, you said it yourself. We still have a good week of trekking before the real danger begins," Maeve tried once again to ease his concerns as the flame of the torch danced on his crisped features.

Robin brought his eyes to her, a painful darkness suddenly shining in them as he lowered his voice gravely. "More than half of these people are going to die during the next four weeks and I can do nothing about it."

Maeve's heart nearly broke at his silent distress, and she lifted a hand to his arm to turn him around in the darkness, forcing him to face her. "They knew what they were getting themselves into," she said firmly, hoping to break through his thick shell of worries. "We all chose to make this journey; we all knew the risks."

But he shook his head at her words, stubbornly refusing to believe her, his heavy gaze returning to scan the shadows where the demons of his potential failures were lurking. "Are you even afraid at all?"

Maeve lowered her gaze to her feet, well aware of the simmering fear pumping stronger in her blood with every step she took in these hellish woods, even if it was irrelevant at the moment. "What does it matter if I am?" she mused, glancing at the darkness below them, her mind latching on to the mission Dim-Dim had entrusted her with. "I need to get to Denwood. Maybe I will, maybe I won't. But I'm here like everyone else because I chose to be."

She spoke as confidently as she could, steady and calm, but in the darkness she felt the weight of Robin's gaze settle on her, watching as her hands toyed with the bandages around her palms, hiding the cuts and bruises in her flesh.

"I don't think you made that choice willingly," he said softly, cutting right through her shield to expose what lay beneath. "I think you'd rather be a thousand miles away from here if you could."

She swallowed hard, anchoring herself down before her thoughts could flitter away to the white sails of a ship on the high seas. "The Gods don't seem to care much about what I want," she commented sadly, her mind momentarily dancing with the snarling ghosts from her past, but she caught herself on time. "Get some sleep, General," she admonished him, then walked away before he could dig deeper into the meaning of her words, returning to her bedroll to follow her own advice before another gruesome day began tomorrow.

A few minutes later, she heard Robin return to the campfire and finally surrendered to sleep.