Chapter 22

North

As the caravan continued along the northern road from Sercen, the weather steadily became cooler and drier. The palm trees that were so plentiful in the south gradually gave way to tall deciduous trees – maples, elms, ash, and yew – while grasses and flowers replaced the broadleaf plants of southern Cyrod. The ground also became rockier, and while Telepe was grateful that they no longer had to slog through muddy roads, the stony ground presented new challenges. The rough terrain constantly jolted and jostled the wagon, and there was the constant fear that a wheel or axle might break. Telepe plaintively asked Dynar more than once if he could walk with the slaves, but the prince insisted that Telepe remain in the cart beside him in case they needed to negotiate with Ayleid patrols. From his tone, it was apparent that Dynar felt that if he had to endure the uncomfortable ride, then Telepe must suffer as well.

Despite the colder weather and difficult terrain, however, Telepe was more comfortable than he had been in months. He realized that much of this had to do with how familiar this region of Cyrod felt to him. His homeland, the Kingdom of the Bjoulsae, had similar scenery, and Telepe's favorite time of year was in mid to late autumn, when the trees were crowned in brilliant, fiery manes of gold, red, and orange, just as Cyrod's trees were now. The drier air was also a welcome relief from the oppressive humidity of the southern rainforest. He didn't felt as though he was half-drowning each time he took a breath, and his clothes were no longer constantly damp with sweat and moisture.

The distant mountains also gave Telepe a strange sense of comfort. They had first appeared on the horizon a few days after they had left Sercen – distant, snow-covered shadows, barely visible through the hazy air. The further north they traveled, the more distinct they became, until they were finally close enough that Telepe could count their cracks and crevices. The Kingdom of the Bjoulsae was also situated near mountains, and though the Jeralls lacked the size and depth of the massive Dragontail mountain range, Telepe nevertheless felt almost at home.

Eventually, it became cool enough that Telepe shed his lighter linen tunic in his of the wool tunic he had worn into Cyrod. He sighed contentedly as he pulled the warm fabric over the linen undertunic, and as he fastened his clan's cloak around his neck, he couldn't help but grin at the fact that he could once again comfortably wear the heavier garments.

However, he also noticed that he seemed to be the only one enjoying himself. Though a few Nords also appeared to relish the cool weather, most of the other humans were used to warmer climates, and therefore struggled against the chilly autumn breeze. Each time the wind washed over them, Telepe watched them visibly shiver and curl in on themselves. When night fell, Tari took to clinging to Telepe's arm as they sat around the blazing campfire, huddling against him for warmth.

Centurion Edanu seemed to take a cue from Telepe dressing more warmly. The day after he changed his clothing, he ordered the men to wrap themselves in the heavy furs cloaks they had brought. The thick pelts were draped over their rough robes and pinned with a small bronze brooch. Telepe had worried that perhaps the garments were too rich for slaves to wear, but one of the Nedes who had previously lived in a northern kingdom assured him that slaves were permitted to wear fur in cold weather. After all, there was no point in letting valuable livestock freeze to death. The warrior also suggested that Telepe could simply inform any suspicious patrols that Prince Dynar was a particularly wealthy slaveowner. Which wasn't far from the truth, Telepe thought wryly.

Thankfully, they had fewer encounters with Ayleid patrols. Though they were still traveling along a highway, it wasn't nearly as well-traveled as the road surrounding the White-Gold City. Only twice did they encounter a group of more than three Ayleid warriors on horseback, and none of them bothered to harass the caravan. After one patrol rode by, however, Telepe noticed Edanu watching them with a concerned expression, though he didn't pay it any mind until a few days later.

Late one night after dinner, Edanu suddenly announced to the men that they were going to try some new drills before they went to sleep. Thankfully, Telepe and a few others – Tari included – were exempted from Edanu's order. The rest slowly shuffled into formation, all looking utterly confused, though there were no protests.

The men were soon divided into ten lines of ten. Telepe noticed that they were grouped according to the wagon they had been marching beside for the past several weeks, so the men were already familiar with each other. The three other centurions consulted briefly consulted with each other, and then selected nine warriors to lead the lines. Telepe didn't recognize any of the men chosen to lead, though he did notice Plontinu fuming in the center of his line, clearly annoyed at being denied command. Despite himself, the arrogant swordsman's frustration brought a faint smile to Telepe's face.

Once the leaders had been selected, Edanu began barking commands at his men. At first, the drills were simple. They began by marching forward as one cohesive line, each individual unit forming its own shield wall. The men were familiar with that exercise, as they had been executing it for months as part of the phalanx. The major difference was that they were required to maintain the significant gaps in their lines, as opposed to remaining in the tightly-packed square formation they were accustomed to.

Once Edanu seemed satisfied that each squad could maintain their cohesion, he began calling out individual lines and ordering them to execute unique movements. One was made to advance to the north while the rest of the platoon continued moving east. Another squad was ordered to wheel left while attempting to avoid running into the other squads, while a third was told to halt in place and raise their shields while the others kept marching behind them.

Naturally, confusion soon began disrupting the ranks, and it wasn't long until the men were making mistakes. One of the warriors nearly bashed his face into the shield of another of his comrades as they passed perpendicular to each other, while another tripped over the haft of a spear that the man in front of her had left loose in his hand. Angry murmurs began buzzing through the formation, and the warriors in different lines began shooting glares at each other.

Frowning to himself, Telepe stepped over to Edanu, who was standing with his arms folded over his chest, scowling at his men. He lightly cleared his throat, and though Edanu didn't tear his gaze away from his warriors, he did lean towards Telepe lightly to indicate that he was listening.

"Forgive me for asking, centurion, but what is the purpose of this exercise?" Telepe asked in a low voice. "It seems a bit… sudden for you to suggest a new training regimen when we're this far into our journey. And these exercises are unlike anything the men have practiced before."

"They are," Edanu agreed gruffly. "Fortunately, these are the finest warriors in the Paravant's army. They're skilled and disciplined enough to perform these drills. I'm certain they will master these new movements swiftly."

"I… don't disagree that they're excellent men," Telepe conceded tactfully. "But I'm certain that they're wondering – as I am – what you're attempting to accomplish."

Edanu shot Telepe an annoyed look, but when he realized the emissary was simply curious and not trying to undermine his command, the centurion sighed and turned to look at Pelinal, who was likewise watching a few paces away with his thumbs hooked into the belt wrapped around the middle of his tabard.

"Lord Whitestrake, I wish to ask your opinion," Edanu requested. The knight regarded him with a sidelong look, and Edanu continued, "Suppose we were attacked on the road by an Ayleid patrol. Were we to rely upon the phalanx formation, do you believe that we would emerge unscathed from a confrontation, particularly if we were forced to contend with Ayleid cavalry?"

Pelinal seemed surprised by the centurion's question, but Telepe noticed that he didn't dismiss it outright. He looked down at the ground, resting his chin on the backs of his knuckles as he considered it, before looking up again and briefly shaking his head.

"It would be difficult, at best," the knight growled. "The phalanx relies upon perfect cohesion, which is difficult to maintain on rough terrain. The closer we have traveled to the mountains, the rockier and more uneven the ground has become. Now, admittedly, Ayleid cavalry would also find this area unfavorable. Their horses would need to be particularly sure-footed to maintain their balance, especially away from the roads. Nevertheless, so long as they kept their distance, a patrol would have little difficulty harassing our lines. If they were wise, they would simply remain out of range of our spears and attack us with arrows and javelins, which we would be forced to weather until they expended their missiles. They also wouldn't need fear a counterattack, save perhaps from our own skirmishers, since the phalanx is too slow to chase their horses. To say nothing of how simple a matter it would be for them to outflank us, if not surround us entirely, even with a mere half-dozen horses or so."

"That is what I was fearing as well," Edanu nodded grimly, though he didn't seem pleased by the fact that Pelinal was confirming his suspicions. He sighed deeply and folded his hands in front of him, glaring down at the fire. "Thus, I have deemed it necessary that we begin developing new tactics, in case we are attacked by a northern patrol."

"Still, I'm confused. The strength of the phalanx is in its defense, yes?" Telepe pointed out. "So long as the men maintain discipline, a few skirmishers should pose little threat. Would it not be simpler to simply tighten the square and endure their assault?" he asked, tilting his head. "Our warriors are equipped with heavy armor, after all, and the pelts they're wearing should provide additional protection, yes?"

Pelinal glanced at him and let out a sigh, shaking his head. "It is not that simple," he explained in a low voice. "You are assuming that our men are invincible. They are not. One lucky arrow is all that is necessary to fell a man, no matter how well-protected they are. They also do not possess infinite stamina. Eventually, their defenses shall falter.

"As Centurion Edanu suspects, relying upon the phalanx with so few men will end in disaster. The formation is only truly effective in large-scale battles where there are thousands of warriors to maintain the shield wall. A mere one hundred warriors are not sufficient," Pelinal continued.

"But we triumphed in the Blackwood with only a fraction of that," Telepe pointed out.

"Only because Morihaus carefully selected where we would do battle," Pelinal countered gruffly. "And we were fortunate that the kings commanding the Ayleids were both arrogant and foolish enough to believe that they could simply overwhelm us with a direct assault. Over a thousand of their warriors died unnecessarily. In truth, if they had taken to the jungle and fought us as skirmishers, they may well have prevailed, even with Mor and I protecting the flanks."

"Then should we have brought more men to bolster the effectiveness of the phalanx?" Telepe asked. Pelinal seemed to be in an unusually indulgent mood, so he saw no reason not to keep speaking with the knight so long as he remained civil.

"No. We must still reach Sancre Tor swiftly, and more men would have slowed us down and attracted more attention," Pelinal asserted. "What's more, even if we had more men, these narrow roads and rough terrain would have still made using the phalanx formation difficult. That is why we have not fought in the jungle; if you noticed, all of our battles have been waged on flat, open ground, and the mer have thus far been kind enough to do battle on our terms. As the terrain grows more treacherous, however, that shall no longer be an option. Thus, I am pleased that this centurion has chosen to modify his tactics before it proved fatal to our men."

"Then do you believe these are the correct tactics for our men to learn?" Telepe asked, giving Pelinal a sidelong glance.

Pelinal folded his arms over his chest, lowering his head slightly. "We shall see. However, I believe that this centurion is wise for choosing to develop the individual strength of these warriors. While cohesion and discipline are of paramount importance in large battles, smaller confrontations rely upon individual skill and prowess. This decision may well save many lives in the coming days." When Telepe tilted his head curiously, the knight scoffed and added, "But do not concern yourself with the affairs of our warriors, elf. You have your own battles to fight, do you not?"

Telepe scowled as Pelinal left him to go speak with Edanu, sighing as he hooked his thumbs into his belt. "And here I was actually enjoying our conversation for once," he muttered bitterly, turning back in time to watch two opposing lines accidentally smash headlong into each other.

The mountainous terrain swiftly took its toll not only on the men's stamina, but their patience as well. As the road grew steeper and stonier, cajoling the wagons down the roads quickly became increasingly difficult. The horses were already straining to lug the supplies over the harsh terrain, and there were times that the men had to help push the wagons along the narrow mountain paths, which exhausted them and shortened their tempers. Thus, when a loud crack suddenly erupted from one of the wagons, more than one man let out a roar of frustration and despair.

Upon inspecting the damage, it quickly became apparent that one of the wheels had cracked. Fortunately, one of the warriors – a man named Banis – had been a carpenter when he was still enslaved, so Edanu asked him to appraise the damage. He inspected the crack for a few minutes, then announced that the wheel could be salvaged, but that he would require some time to complete his work. Though Edanu was impatient to resume moving, Banis insisted that if they tried to force the wagon on, the wheel would eventually shatter. Reluctantly, Edanu agreed to bring the caravan to a halt.

As the sounds of a mallet striking the wooden wheel echoed off the face of the low, solitary mountain that the road encircled, Telepe meandered between two of the undamaged wagons and pulled his cloak tighter around him to stave off a sudden, frigid gust of wind. It was strange having so little to do, he mused. Some of the men were assigned to guard the perimeter around the wagons, but most were given leave to rest until the wagons were repaired. He had thought Edanu might take the time to train the men more, but though the path was presently deserted, if an odd traveler happened across them training, they would think it strange at best and suspicious at worst. Thus, the men were left to idle, though to Telepe's amusement, it was apparent that they had no idea what to do with themselves. Most took to watching Banis work, or simply stared up at the clouds drifting overhead.

Out of the corner of his eye, Telepe spied a small figure stealing away from one of the wagons and slinking into the woods. An amused smile crossed his face, and he glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the caravan, before deciding to follow. Of course, the small young woman was Tari, who was taking her time inspecting the trees and rocks while muttering to herself, occasionally tapping her chin. When she turned around and noticed Telepe staring at her with a raised eyebrow, she flashed him an apologetic grin.

"Forgive me," she said as she wrapped her heavy pelt around herself a bit more tightly. "I simply wished to take this opportunity to test some of the knowledge that the alchemists in Sercen imparted onto me and attempt to identify some of the plants in this region."

"I see. I concur, this is a good time to do so, especially since we have quite a bit of daylight. Still, I wouldn't stray too far," Telepe warned her gently.

"I didn't intend to let the wagons out of my sight," Tari assured him with a nod. "Besides, it's not as though we have anything else to occupy our time."

"A fair point," Telepe agreed. He folded his hands behind his back and peered over her shoulder. "Have you found anything?"

"Only a few mushrooms, though I can make use of them," Tari replied, pulling back from the rock she was kneeling in front of to hold up a light grey cap. "For instance, if properly prepared and brewed into a tea, this funnel cap is said to stimulate the mind and improve one's focus."

"Interesting," Telepe commented. "That should be useful later. Is that something Sercen's alchemists taught you, or did you know that before?"

"I did not, no," Tari replied, rotating the mushroom in her hand. "I'm grateful that Prince Dynar elected to bring me along on the excursion into the city. I've only rarely used this type of mushroom before, and I would have never thought to prepare it as a tea."

"Truly? Then I'm pleased that the journey was useful for you," Telepe smiled gently.

"Indeed. It's simply a pity that it's all that I was permitted to do," she added, shooting Telepe an accusing glare over her shoulder.

Telepe met her gaze without flinching. He hadn't told Tari about the nature of Sercen's gardens until three days after they had departed, to ensure that there was ample distance between her and the kingdom. As he and Dynar had expected, when he explained what the gardens actually were, she had been livid, and she seemed on the verge of turning around and marching back to the city alone. Telepe had assured her that they would find a way to liberate the slaves when they had the chance, but his insistence that they couldn't do so now only inflamed her. Apparently, she was still nursing a grudge that he had withheld the knowledge of Sercen's gardens from her for so long.

"I still refuse to apologize," Telepe informed her coolly as she narrowed her eyes at him. "I do not regret refraining from speaking of it, given your reaction."

"We should have aided them," Tari snarled.

"How?" Telepe retorted shortly. "With one hundred men? Against a full contingent of guards, and alchemists that you admitted may well be superior to your former mistress? Indeed, we should have besieged the city immediately!" he added sardonically.

"But to allow their atrocities to continue-!" Tari insisted.

"They shall answer for their crimes," Telepe said soothingly. "But we cannot bring them to justice if we cannot defeat them. I understand your frustration – believe me," he added with a shudder as the memory of the horrible, ever-beating heart surfaced. "But there was nothing we could do to aid them."

"I know!" Tari snapped suddenly, surprising Telepe with her vehemence. "But that doesn't mean I can't be furious about it!"

"No… no, you can," Telepe agreed quietly, holding his hand up in apology. He suddenly realized that she simply wanted to vent her anger, and that she wasn't interested in his appeals to reason. "My apologies," he added softly.

Tari opened her mouth, then sighed and ran her hand over her eyes. "You needn't apologize," she murmured. "I'm simply tired of feeling as though I have done nothing to aid the rebellion."

"You have!" Telepe countered. He walked over and put his hands on her shoulders. "You've been invaluable! Dozens of men would not be alive now were it not for you!"

"That's not enough!" Tari snapped, startling him. "I am tired of being told that healing alone is sufficient! I don't simply want to save lives. I want to stop the Ayleids from taking them in the first place!"

Telepe was about to reply, but at that moment, a frightened scream pierced the air, and he turned around to stare into the woods. Tari likewise looked up from the rock, her green eyes warily scanning the forest as a furious bellow echoed through the trees. The pair glanced at each other, and then two figures came bursting out of the foliage.

The first was a Nordic woman who seemed perhaps a decade or so older than Tari. Telepe briefly caught sight of bright blond hair and a ripped, filthy grey tunic, before his eyes were drawn to a much more obvious threat.

The being that followed close behind the woman was a lumbering mass of muscle that Telepe immediately recognized as a troll. He had seen them before in the mountains of Malabal, and while he had never been forced to confront one personally, he knew enough about them to be terrified. Matted, mossy green fur covered most of its body, save for its exposed, leathery chest. It propelled itself after the woman on its knuckles, its over-long arms propelling itself surprisingly quickly across the forest floor. Three beady, black eyes were fixated on the woman's back, and its fanged mouth was open in a bloodthirsty roar as it chased its victim.

The woman spotted Telepe and Tari, and she flung herself at them, ducking behind the rock they had been examining. The troll lumbered to a halt and appraised the pair for a moment, then beat its chest and let out another roar of challenge and warning.

Fear gripped Telepe as he eyed the troll, but when he glanced back at the woman gazing at them, wide-eyed and silently pleading for help, he slowly drew his sword and dropped into a dueling stance. He whistled sharply at the troll to divert its attention towards him, whereupon the beast's massive head swung towards him as Telepe forced himself to calm down and concentrate. His left hand glowed green for a moment as he raised it, and a moment later a bolt of aqua-colored light erupted from his palm. The spell struck the troll squarely in the chest, and for a brief moment its body was awash in green light. Telepe held his breath as the beast shook its head in confusion, but then, to his dismay, it let out an enraged bellow and charged at him. Before he could react, the monster rammed its shoulder into his chest, laying him out flat on his back and knocking the wind out of him as he hit the leaf-covered ground hard.

Telepe was briefly stunned as he struggled for breath, but then his heart stopped as the troll's shadow fell over him. He watched helplessly as the troll raised its trunk-like arms over its head, drool dripping from its pointed fangs. Before it could slam its fists down on him, though, a flash of heat erupted from Telepe's left and the troll's right. A stream of flames washed over the monster, engulfing its massive form. Tari advanced on it slowly, her hands raised, her eyes narrowed, and her teeth bared. The troll staggered and flinched away from the flames, screaming in pain and terror.

As Tari drove the troll away from him, Telepe managed to scramble to his feet and circle around to his right, just out of range of where Tari's flames were licking the monster's hide. Tari exhaled as she finally lowered her hands, though as soon as she did, the troll turned its furious gaze on her. As it roared at her, though, it, also turned its back on Telepe. Gripping his longsword tightly in his right hand, Telepe took two steps forward and thrusted the tip of his blade into the troll's back.

To his dismay, the troll's thick hide prevented his thrust from sliding more than a few inches into its body, though he did feel the point of the bronze weapon dig into muscle. As his sword pierced the beast, however, he saw the Welkynd Stone in its pommel briefly glow bright teal, and a flash of red light ran down the length of the blade and into the troll's body. The beast suddenly let out a terrified cry, and as Telepe watched, dumbfounded, the monster began fleeing into the forest as swiftly as its lumbering gait would allow it to retreat.

Telepe slowly looked down at his blade in wonder… then noticed the tip was coated in fat and blood. He let out a disgusted scoff and wiped it on some nearby leaves as Tari approached him, putting her hand on his left arm.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly.

"Well enough. It didn't harm me, thanks to you," Telepe assured her. He doubted that he would even have a bruise, even after his collision with the ground. "You?"

"A bit tired, but otherwise unharmed," Tari replied. Then she turned towards the woman that the troll had been chasing. "And what of you?" she asked.

The woman was staring up at the pair with a look of awe, though as Telepe held his hand out to her, she took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Telepe was surprised to find that she stood only a couple inches shorter than he, and her body was far more muscled than his own. "I… I am… uninjured, I believe," she stammered, not meeting their gaze.

Tari gave Telepe a pointed look, then knelt down beside her and began running her small hands over the woman's fair skin, inspecting her for wounds. "Why was that troll chasing you?" she asked as she lifted the woman's arm up.

The blond woman shook her head, not resisting Tari's inspection of her body. "I was attempting to find refuge in a nearby cave," she murmured, casting a sidelong glance at Telepe before returning her attention to Tari.

"Refuge from what?" Tari asked.

The woman swallowed hard, once again shooting a furtive glance at Telepe. "I would rather not say. Are you… here to take me back?" she whimpered.

Telepe frowned at her reaction to his presence, but then it dawned on him that she was eyeing the side of his head. He motioned to Tari, then turned his head and ran his fingers over his pointed ear. Tari's eyes widened in understanding, and she quickly turned back to the woman, shaking her head. "Oh! You needn't worry. Telepe isn't an ally of the Ayleids, I can assure you."

"What? H-how can I be certain?" the woman asked suspiciously. "If he is your master, you must be particularly devoted to him-!"

Tari and Telepe both burst out laughing at that as the woman stared at them, bewildered. "Tari? Even if she was a slave, she wouldn't listen any command I gave her," Telepe chuckled.

"Nor would he ever give me a command," Tari added with a grin. "Telepe is the one who freed me, after all. Mark my words, you can trust him. Both of us," she added with a smile. "I am Tari, and this is Telepe. Would you tell us who you are?"

The woman hesitated, then took a deep breath. "My name is Britmonah," the woman replied finally.

"It is an honor to meet you, Britmonah," Tari said evenly, before Telepe could respond. "Though it's quite strange to find a slave wandering these woods alone. Would you perhaps be willing to tell us your story?"

Britmonah once again cast a wary glance at Telepe, but she turned back to Tari without further protest. "I… was born as one of the men-of-'kreath, far to the north of here. A few years ago, these savage elves from the south invaded my home and abducted many of us, selling us into slavery. I was sent to work on a farm not far from here, where I served a local lord as a maid in his household. It was… brutal work. Always awoken before dawn, barely given enough bread to survive another day, forced to work until our limbs gave out, beaten by him and his sadistic wife for not working hard enough… or worse." Britmonah faltered for a moment, and Tari gently held up her hand. "Though… his children were kind, at least. Especially the youngest girl…." she added in a murmur.

"You needn't recount more," Tari murmured soothingly. "It's a story that's repeated throughout this land, so I know it well. Fortunately for you, you're safe now." She turned to Telepe and added, "Let's take her back to the caravan."

Telepe hesitated at Tari's declaration, which Tari noticed, whereupon she narrowed her eyes. "Ah… is that wise?" Telepe asked slowly. When Tari snarled and opened her mouth, he held his hands up and added, "I'm not saying that we should return her to her master! If she's escaped, returning her is essentially a death sentence. But… did your master employ guards?"

"He did…." Britmonah admitted slowly, turning towards Tari with a terrified expression.

"Then it's likely that they shall be searching for her," Telepe said slowly. "And if they discover us escorting an escaped slave…."

"Then we shall have to make certain that they do not discover her," Tari snapped sharply. "And surely you can work your magic to ensure that they do not bother to inspect our wagons too closely, yes?"

Telepe winced, his stomach sinking as he noticed Britmonah staring up at him pleadingly. "Possibly…." he admitted slowly, though he was feeling a touch less confident in his abilities after his failure to calm the troll. He sighed softly, turning a few possibilities over in his mind. Perhaps one of the caravan's scouts would be willing to guide her to safe territory… but escorting her to the south would take weeks, and two human travelers alone on the road would attract suspicion. They also could not necessarily take her directly to Skyrim, especially not without attracting attention – if her master did indeed have guards, they would expect her to travel north, and she risked being recaptured anyways. Tari was right, he admitted reluctantly – the best solution, short of returning her to the farm, was to bring Britmonah with them. "…Very well," he muttered, defeated.

Tari stared at him for a moment longer, clearly displeased that he had even hesitated to bring the woman with them. Britmonah's eyes widened with delight as he agreed, but then a moment later her excitement dimmed. "I… I thank you for your aid," she said softly.

Telepe tilted his head slightly. "You seem troubled," he remarked.

Britmonah nodded softly, exhaling shakily. "In truth… I am loath to depart just yet." When both Tari and Telepe stared at her curiously, she explained, "When I escaped from the farm, I did so alone. Other slaves still remain, including my younger brother. I fear that since I've escaped, they shall now suffer for my disobedience. I wished to free them – my brother especially – but the guards were distracted for only a moment! I had to seize my chance! I… I hoped that perhaps I might find a way to aid them once I had found my way back to Skyrim!"

Tari smiled softly, shaking her head. "Fortune does indeed smile upon you, then. We shall help you," she assured Britmonah.

"We shall?" Telepe repeated flatly.

"Is that not what the Paravant's rebellion is meant to do?" Tari retorted. "To liberate and aid any slave that requires our aid?"

"Tari!" Telepe snapped as Britmonah's mouth fell open.

"You… you are members of the Paravant's rebellion?!" she gasped.

Telepe glared at Tari, then rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He had wanted to keep their association with the rebellion secret, especially if this woman was perhaps aiding hostile Ayleids. Tari flinched under Telepe's gaze, but she responded, "We are. And as I said, we shall aid-"

"No, we shall not," Telepe interrupted her firmly. He turned to Britmonah with an apologetic look as he explained, "Forgive me if this seems callous, but unfortunately, we are currently preoccupied with an errand that is of paramount importance. Our journey requires us to travel across Cyrod without drawing the attention of our adversaries. If we were to raid the farm you escaped from, it could well doom our journey, as it would undoubtedly draw the eyes of the Ayleid patrols. We shall take you back to our caravan and offer you food and shelter for the time being, but we cannot attack your master's farm."

Britmonah's eyes shone with tears, and as she lowered her head, Tari stepped in front of Telepe, her face turning red with fury. "You cannot deny her request-!" she began.

"We must!" Telepe shot back, drawing himself up to tower over her. "Yes, it is cruel, but our true objective is of greater importance! We cannot risk this expedition for the sake of a few slaves, not when the lives of millions more are at stake! Once we have completed our current task, we can consider returning and lending our aid. Until then, the best we can do is offer Britmonah our hospitality – and nothing more!"

Tari opened her mouth to shout a reply, but Britmonah interrupted, "Enough! I understand," she added quietly. She placed a hand on Telepe's shoulder and smiled sadly, adding, "If your errand takes precedence, then I shall not request more from you. You have my gratitude for offering me sanctuary, and I shall gladly do what I can to repay your kindness." She turned to Tari and added, "Would you be so kind as to guide me to your caravan, then?"

Tari continued to glare at Telepe fiercely, until he began to fear she might find a way to make him spontaneously combust out of sheer fury. "Of course," she spat, storming past Telepe without another word to him. Telepe sighed again as he looked over his shoulder in the direction that Britmonah had appeared from. Part of him began considering her request, but he ruthlessly pushed it out of his mind. If he and Tari went off alone on some fool mission to free a few slaves, not only would they almost certainly fail, they would also place the entire caravan in jeopardy. No, he assured himself… he had made the right decision. Not that his conviction that he was correct did anything to alleviate the acidic guilt burning his insides.

It didn't take long for Telepe and Tari to guide Britmonah back to the caravan and introduce her to Edanu. The centurion had raised an eyebrow at the newcomer, but he listened patiently while Telepe quietly explained what had happened in the woods. He could feel Tari's eyes burning into his back, clearly suspicious that he was coloring his recollection of how they had met Britmonah, though Telepe did try to provide a wholly factual account without embellishment. When he finished, Edanu nodded and turned to Britmonah.

"Very well. You are welcome to our camp," he announced. "While you needn't take up arms, so long as you are with us, I would ask that you aid us by performing simple tasks for the camp – fetching firewood, aiding in pitching tents, and so forth. If you can cook, we would greatly appreciate that as well. In exchange, you shall have our protection, so long as you choose to travel with us."

"…Thank you," Britmonah asked softly. "Though… if I may ask a boon-?"

"We shall be departing in the morning," Edanu continued, as though he hadn't heard Britmonah's question. Tari shot another glare at Telepe, who studiously ignored her. "Our broken wheel has almost been repaired, but it is too dark for us to continue for today. Thus, if you would see to the first of your duties and aid us in collecting some wood?" he asked, turning to Britmonah.

The woman's face fell, and she murmured despondently, "As you say." She wandered slowly into the forest to carry out the command, her shoulders slumped.

Tari refused to sit near Telepe that evening while they were eating, leaving Dynar and Pasare to glance curiously back and forth between the pair, though Telepe kept his face impassive, as though nothing was wrong. Tari finished first and announced that she was retiring for the night early, with Telepe retreating to his own tent shortly afterwards. Though he closed his eyes, he remained awake, intently listening to the sounds of the camp around him. Finally, he heard what he had been waiting for. A faint rustling sound was soon followed by furious whispering in the nearest tent – Tari's.

Silently, Telepe crawled out of his tent and peered around, then scowled as he spotted Tari and Britmonah slinking into the darkened forest behind them. He sighed to himself and pushed himself out from under the leather tarp, creeping behind them until they were at least a hundred yards from the campsite. Evidently, he wasn't quiet enough to avoid attracting attention, as Tari held up her hand and swung around suspiciously. Realizing he had been caught, he held his hand out, and a bright flash of light appeared in the palm of his hand, illuminating their guilty faces.

"Telepe!" Tari hissed, throwing her hand over her eyes for a moment to ward off the glare. "We-!"

"You intend to travel to Britmonah's farm to free the rest of the slaves," Telepe interjected in a deadpan voice. A long, uncomfortable silence lingered at his accusation, until he added, "Do you have a plan, at least?"

Tari's eyes narrowed, a snarl creeping across her lips. "Britmonah has informed me of the gaurds' schedule, and I used the materials I was gathering earlier to concoct a number of sleeping poisons, including a special mist," she explained shortly. "It is a recipe that one of the alchemists in Sercen taught to Farilel. Though it's not as potent as their finest potions, it should suffice for our purposes. Once we arrive at the farm, it should be a simple matter to release the miasma into the guard barracks. From there, we shall be able to sneak in, free the slaves, and escape."

"How many guards do you expect to encounter?" Telepe asked simply, turning to Britmonah.

The woman flinched, but replied steadily, "My former master employs over a dozen guards to oversee his plantation. At night, four remain on watch, while the others rest. I have become intimately familiar with their rotation."

"I see. Yet, does it not stand to reason that he will likely post more guards so soon after one of his slaves escaped?" Telepe pointed out. "It would be wise to assume that your knowledge of their schedules is inaccurate, at least for the next few days."

Tari growled in frustration and stepped closer to Telepe, her eyes burning with anger. "Do you intend to stop us?" she hissed.

"No," Telepe replied simply, shrugging. "I know I cannot dissuade you from this scheme, short of binding you and dragging you back. Thus, I intend to aid you instead."

Tari stopped mid-snarl, instead blinking up at him in surprise and confusion. "You… what?"

Telepe sighed, brushing his long hair back with his fingers and tying it with a length of ribbon that he had brought with him. "If you are truly intent upon doing this, then you shall require assistance. I can aid you in calming the guards, and according to Prince Dynar, I have become a fair swordsman, if we must fight. Either way, I shall not let you two undertake this mad scheme alone."

Tari gaped at him, then scowled. "If you intended to aid us from the beginning, why did you initially protest our raid on the farm?"

"My feelings have not changed," Telepe replied bluntly. "I still believe this is foolish. However, if you must carry out this raid, then I shall aid you."

Tari glowered at him, but finally her features melted into a reluctant smile. "Thank you," she murmured.

Telepe nodded, then turned to Britmonah. "With that said, I trust that you recall where the farm is? In this darkness, are you certain you shall be able to find it?"

Britmonah suddenly smiled, displaying a confidence that Telepe had not yet seen from her. "I shall," she confirmed boldly. "My father was a hunter, and I have an excellent sense of direction. I have always been able to accurately retrace my steps, and I never forget a path I have taken, even after following it only once."

"…Very well. Then I trust you to guide us," Telepe said. "Let's be off."

"Let's," Tari agreed, smiling warmly up at Telepe for the first time since that afternoon. She then turned to follow Britmonah, with Telepe trailing behind her. However, he took a moment to pause and glance over his shoulder, peering into the darkness as he held his hand up a little higher. Tari frowned, noticing his hesitation. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Telepe replied, shaking his head and closing his palm, extinguishing the light that had been illuminating the area. "Lead on."

Britmonah led them swiftly through the woods, murmuring to herself as she crouched, almost walking on her hands as she guided them. The larger red moon, Masser, was waning, but Secunda was nearly full, and its brilliant white glow illuminated the woods just enough to let the trio see as they scrambled under the fiery autumn leaves of the trees. Telepe realized that Britmonah was initially following the trail of destruction that the troll had left when it had been chasing her. He briefly feared that she might lead them back to its lair, but fortunately the path she guided them along avoided any caves.

After almost twenty minutes of travel, Britmonah suddenly held her hand up and whispered to them, "We're near. Stay quiet." Telepe and Tari followed her closely as she crept up a low embankment. When they crested the hill, they were greeted with the sight of a small, yet fortified villa. They had approached from a corner, so they could see two low, white marble walls, capped with wooden guard platforms, each manned by an Ayleid sentinel. Inside the walls, Telepe spotted a small but ornate dwelling opposite a heavy wooden gate – a building that he assumed was the master's residence. Three other buildings lined the north and south walls. One was clearly a barn, while another seemed to house the farming equipment. A third structure on the opposite side from the barn and shed was larger than any of the others. It stretched across most of the wall and had two levels – and it was the building that Britmonah was glaring at most intently.

"That is the servant quarters," Britmonah said, pointing to the long building. "The bottom level is where the guards sleep. Our master insisted, so that any slave that wishes to escape is required to walk through their barracks first, if they don't wish to leap out a window. We shall find the other slaves on the top level."

"Very well. Then how do you propose we liberate them?" Telepe asked quietly. "Preferably without attracting attention?"

"First, we should dispatch the guard nearest to the quarters," Britmonah replied, pointing to the guard tower looming over the long two-story building.

Telepe nodded and began to creep forward, his hand starting to glow with a charm spell. Tari glanced at his shimmering palm and grabbed him by the shoulder, shaking her head. "If you use that spell, the guards will see! You may as well be throwing a torch at him!" she whispered to him.

Telepe grimaced, but he privately admitted that she had a point. He exhaled, and the glowing in his palm dissipated as he asked, "Then what do you propose?"

Before Tari could answer, Britmonah asked, "You mentioned that you concocted sleeping poisons, yes? How quickly do they affect the victim?"

"Instantly," Tari answered confidently.

Britmonah smiled slightly, nodding with approval. "May I borrow one?"

Tari frowned faintly, but reached to her belt and pulled one of the small clay bottles out of a leather pouch. Britmonah took it from her and undid one of the bronze pins holding her chiton up. She tied the straps over her shoulder before it could fall, and then she dipped the tip of the pin into the ointment, before creeping up to the wall. She crouched just out of the guard's line of sight, then tapped a stone against the wall to draw his attention. The guard tilted his head at the sound, then peered over the edge of his platform, just as Britmonah threw the needle upwards. It struck the guard in the neck, who let out a soft hiss of pain, then unceremoniously collapsed into a heap on the floor of his tower. Telepe inhaled sharply, eyeing the other guard towers along the walls, but the other Ayleids thankfully did not seem to have noticed the disturbance. Britmonah frantically waved them forward to join her.

"Where did you learn to do that?!" Tari asked in a low voice as they pressed against the wall.

"As I said, my father was a hunter. To dispatch smaller game without harming the meat, he favored throwing weapons like knives and darts," Britmonah explained in a low voice. "I would have preferred a knife, but the guard was less likely to react to a pinprick than a knife. Now, come."

The wall was barely seven feet high, so with a short running start, Telepe was able to clamber atop it with little difficulty. He pulled the two women up behind him, and the trio dropped quietly to the soft grass behind the quarters. Tari furtively glanced around, then approached one of the open windows of the barracks and tentatively peeked inside.

"Four guards," she murmured, reaching into her belt pouch again and pulling out another, more cylindrical bottle. She closed her eyes, concentrating for a moment, and then she whispered, "Molag." A small flame erupted in her hand, and the contents of the bottle warmed, then began bubbling and emitting a hazy blue mist. She placed the bottle on the windowsill and closed the shutters, then gathered her chiton over her nose and mouth, holding her hand up as she did. The trio waited intently for several long moments, until finally they heard low groans and yawns, and then the sounds of bodies slumping to the floor. Tari nodded with satisfaction, then motioned to the second floor above them, giving Britmonah a questioning look.

"Will that miasma affect us as well?" Britmonah asked in a low voice.

"Only if you breathe it in directly. Cover your nose and mouth, and it should only cause drowsiness. Though we should still move swiftly," Tari replied.

Britmonah nodded, then peeked around the side of the building to ensure that none of the guards in the courtyard were looking their way. She then crept through the window into the lower room, followed by Telepe and Tari.

A quartet of Ayleids lay unconscious throughout the lower level, sprawled out on the dirt floor or slumped over on wooden benches with clay cups of wine held loosely in their limp fingers. Britmonah hurried to the stairs and began rapidly ascending them. Suddenly, she let out a startled gasp and stumbled backwards, clutching her chiton to her mouth, her eyes wide with fright.

An Ayleid guard clad in a rough leather breastplate and bronze bowl helmet slashed at Britmonah with a bronze shortsword as she stumbled backwards down the stairs, snarling as she did. "Hm! The vermin escaped, but decided to return to its hole? How fortunate for me," the elf hissed, lunging at her again.

Before the elf could press his advantage, Telepe drew his own sword and slashed at the guard, keeping his cloak pressed over his face with his left hand. The Ayleid reflexively jerked back, and Telepe narrowly missed opening a gash on his thigh. The Ayleid blinked at him in surprise, then snarled and raised his own sword defensively, challenging Telepe to come closer.

Telepe immediately knew that he was at a disadvantage. Attempting to fight the Ayleid on the stairwell with the elf above him gave him limited options. However, he oddly felt at ease dueling his opponent on the narrow plane, as it meant they both only had two ways to move – advance, and retreat, which was how he had been taught to fight. What's more, his blade was almost double the length of the shortsword the Ayleid was brandishing, and while that would have been another disadvantage if the Ayleid chose to close the distance, the sheer length of his sword made his opponent pause, hovering three steps above him and leaving Telepe well outside of his range, while the elf remained within his. Telepe immediately seized the opportunity.

He jabbed at the elf's leg twice, though each time the guard managed to parry his blow. Before he could attack a third time, the guardsman slashed at him. However, it was a tentative, probing slash, and Telepe remained well out of his reach, so the attack cut harmlessly through the air. Emboldened by his opponent's hesitation, Telepe took another step up the stairs and lunged, extending his blade forward with a firm thrust. The Ayleid hissed and narrowly managed to avoid the attack by retreating up two more stairs. As he was moving backwards, however, the elf stumbled. Telepe immediately capitalized. He climbed up one more step and jabbed his opponent's calf with the tip of his sword, piercing his golden skin. A flash of red light traveled up the length of the blade and into the guard's body, which was briefly enveloped in a ruby aura. Then, the guard screamed and pushed past Telepe, Tari, and Britmonah, fleeing into the room below. As he screamed, the toxic miasma filled his lungs, and within moments, he had slumped to the floor, twitching fitfully, but harmlessly.

"Well done," Tari praised him, eyeing the Ayleid with a look of scorn. "It seems your training with Dynar is bearing fruit."

Before Telepe could respond, Britmonah pounced on the unconscious guard. She briefly rifled along his belt, then triumphantly held up a brass key ring. She then pushed past Telepe and Tari, racing up the stairs, with the pair following on her heels.

Inside, a dozen humans sat upright on mats of dirty straw, watching the stairwell with looks of confusion and fear. Those expressions melted into relief, however, when Britmonah scrambled towards them with the keys jingling in her hand, laughing half-madly with joy. Telepe and Tari guarded the stairwell as she hurriedly unchained the slaves, pausing only to clutch a dirty, sandy-haired boy of about ten years to herself and whisper something to him, before releasing him and turning to Tari and Telepe with a look of fierce determination in her eyes.

"This is everyone," she announced. "Shall we make our escape?"

"That… may be difficult," Tari responded, frowning as she peered out the window. Telepe craned his neck to see, then winced as he saw at least eight more guards bearing down on the barracks. Worse, he could also see that the azure smoke in the room below was dissipating, so he suspected that the reinforcements likely wouldn't fall unconscious once they entered the building.

"We… could leap out of the windows and then burn the barracks?" Tari suggested. "If nothing else, it would provide a distraction."

"It won't burn swiftly enough!" Britmonah cried. "And I fear that there are yet more guards waiting for us below!"

"Then we barricade ourselves in here and fight them as they come," Tari hissed fiercely, gripping her dagger tightly.

Telepe sighed heavily as he sheathed his sword and moved towards the window. "I may have a different solution," he announced.

Both Britmonah and Tari frowned as he reached the rear window and opened his hand. A bright, green-tinged light flared in his hand, and he opened and closed his fingers three times, making the light wink in the darkness.

"What are you doing?!" Tari demanded in a low hiss, turning to a window facing into the courtyard. "The guards-!"

She was interrupted by the nearby twangs of bowstrings, and moments later, Telepe heard pained screams echoing across the farm. He pulled his hand inside and hurried over to the other window to peer through it. The center of the farm was now illuminated by the torchlight of the Ayleids rushing towards the slave quarters, and Telepe saw that two of the guards had already fallen, one with an arrow in her chest, and the other with a shaft sticking out of his calf, which he was clutching and screaming. As Telepe watched, bronze-clad figures began materializing out of the darkness, charging towards the farm in rows of ten. They bore down on the three gates of the villa, with thirty men each taking an entrance, ensuring that the Ayleids had no chance to escape.

One of the guards in a nearby watchtower had the sense to fire an arrow at the advancing lines of men, but before he could loose it, a bolt whistle through the darkness and struck him in the arm. The elf screamed and dropped his bow just as another arrow struck him in the chest, piercing his leather armor and sending him tumbling to the floor of his tower.

"How?!" Tari whispered. Telepe pulled back from the window to face her, unable to resist grinning at her wide-eyed shock.

"When I anticipated that you intended to aid Britmonah this evening, I also anticipated the possibility that this raid might fail," he explained. "While I hoped for all to go well, I felt it wise to assume that the farm was more heavily guarded than we imagined, and that we might be discovered. Thus, while I was speaking with Edanu about Britmonah, I also asked him to lend his assistance."

Tari stared at Telepe, then narrowed her eyes furiously. "Why did you not inform me?!" she demanded.

"If I had, you would have insisted that we assault the farm outright," Telepe retorted tartly. He noticed Tari's glower fading, which confirmed to him that his assumption was correct. "Had we simply assaulted this villa, we probably would have succeeded in breaching its walls, but the guards may have slain the slaves out of spite. We also would have lost the element of surprise and sustained more casualties than we are likely to now. Thus, Edanu asked me to attempt stealth first when liberating the slaves. If we were successful, there would have been no need for him to intervene. In the event that we failed – which we have – the guards would still be distracted, providing him the opening necessary to assault the farm with minimal resistance."

Tari slowly turned around and looked into the courtyard again, where the Ayleid guards were fleeing in a blind panic. However, Edanu's men had spread out into individual units of ten, cutting off every escape route, and they were slowly advancing in a circle around the trapped Ayleids. Any elf that tried to push past them was jabbed with a spear, and those that survived staggered back into the steadily closing circle.

"Does… does this mean we can finally depart?" Britmonah's brother asked from the corner.

Telepe turned around and gently shook his head. "Not quite yet," he said in a soothing voice. "Soon, however. The centurion is aware of our location, but we must wait for him to inform us that it is safe to leave. Simply remain patient until then."

The boy nodded and fell silent as screams and the sounds of weapons clashing filled the night air. Soon after, the noises finally died down, and then Telepe became aware of a set of heavy boots stomping up the wooden stairs. Though he didn't expect another fight, he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, relaxing only when the red, sweaty face of Edanu appeared. The portly man was short of breath, but otherwise seemed unharmed, much to Telepe's relief.

"Good. I'm pleased you all are well," Edanu stated, looking them over.

"Thanks to your arrival, centurion," Telepe replied with a deferential nod. "Also, congratulations are in order. Dividing your forces into smaller units worked marvelously."

"Only due to the quality of the men I was provided," Edanu replied modestly. "I would be hesitant to attempt this with less disciplined warriors. Still, I am pleased that this tactic proved viable, and that our men were skilled enough to enact it."

At those words, Telepe realized something. He glanced out the window again, asking, "Where is Whitestrake?"

"Protecting the caravan," Edanu answered. "While his strength is formidable, I feared that he would not exercise restraint during this raid, so I felt it wiser to ask him to remain with the wagons. One does not need to burn down the entire forest to fell one tree, after all."

"…Indeed. Well, were it not for your assistance, we would likely have perished this evening," Telepe said grimly. "You have my gratitude."

"Gladly. Of course, the Paravant would have my head if her emissary and mage were slain," Edanu added wryly. He then turned to the newly-freed slaves and addressed them. "It is safe to enter the courtyard. Please go downstairs and speak with my warriors. They shall escort you out of here. I wish to speak with your saviors."

At Edanu's words, the slaves quickly filed out of the room, leaving Edanu, Telepe, and Tari alone in the attic. Edanu folded his arms over his chest as he gazed down at Tari, a look of disapproval on his face.

"I shall commend you on your courage and compassion," Edanu said, his deep voice rumbling through the room. "However, I cannot condone your actions. If, in the future, you wish to pursue a course of action like this, see that you request our aid, and that you understand not only the risks, but the potential consequences of your actions."

Tari looked up, her eyes flaring with anger. "I foresaw the consequences-!" she protested hotly.

"You placed this entire expedition in jeopardy," Edanu interrupted her. "Secrecy is paramount, and we now risk exposure. We cannot allow any of our enemies to escape from this villa."

"Of course not!" Tari agreed shortly.

"Then you understand what must now be done?" Edanu asked gravely. "Allow me to repeat myself: Not one of our potential enemies can be allowed to escape." He turned from her to gaze at the master's dwelling with a dark look on his face.

Tari followed her gaze to the large building, her expression impassive at first. Telepe's heart sank as the implication of what Edanu was saying dawned on her, her eyes widening in horror.

"The entire family…?" she whispered.

"If there are no witnesses, our enemies may well presume that bandits or a rival landowner attacked this farm. That does happen from time to time. So long as word does escape of humans clad in armor marching across the north," Edanu explained. He sighed heavily, then looked past Tari at Telepe. "We shall complete our task here, then return to the caravan. Join us when you're ready."

"As you say," Telepe nodded as the centurion trudged down the stairs. He turned back to Tari, who was staring silently at the master's house, watching in horror as two of Edanu's lines charged inside, brandishing their spears. Quietly, he came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.

"All of them…." she whispered to herself. Telepe could feel her shoulders trembling as she looked up at him. "W-well… even the young ones surely would have become slavers themselves," she insisted, though it was clear from her tone that she was trying to convince herself, and that she didn't truly believe her words.

"And if we emerge victorious in this war, no Ayleid shall ever enslave another human again," Telepe added, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and guiding her out of the room. Tari nodded mutely as they walked down the stairs, lost in her thoughts. As they exited the building, she slowly looked up at him, tears rimming her eyes.

"You have my apologies," she murmured. "You… you were correct to chastise me for acting rashly. Perhaps we should never have done this."

"Perhaps," Telepe agreed evenly. "However, I owe you an apology as well." Tari blinked and looked up at him as he smiled softly down at her. "I have been focusing too much on the broad strokes of this war, on major, sweeping victories that create large-scale changes throughout the realm. I must take care to remember that it is the small acts of compassion and courage that have just as much of an effect on how this rebellion is perceived as capturing a city or slaying a king. So… thank you for reminding me of that."

Tari smiled wanly up at him, then pressed her head into his ribs. "Thank you," she murmured.

Telepe cleared his throat, feeling his ears burning, as he released her shoulders. "We should return and get some rest," he said as they approached Britmonah. "According to Dynar, it's still two weeks until we reach Sancre Tor."

"That's your destination?" Britmonah asked, tilting her head. "Why didn't you mention it before? It needn't take two weeks. We can arrive in five days."

Telepe and Tari both stopped mid-stride to stare at her. "What?" Telepe asked flatly.

"I told you I was brought here from Skyrim, yes?" Britmonah said. "When I was sold, the slavers led us down a narrow road that leads directly from Sancre Tor, though it was wide enough for wagons to travel upon. I clearly recall that it only took five days to arrive at this farm. We must only travel a little further west along the highway, and then I can show you the hidden path through the forest that connects to the northern highway to this one."

Telepe and Tari exchanged looks, and then Telepe let out a small chuckle. "Are you certain you recall where it is?" he asked.

"As I said, I never forget a path I've traveled," Britmonah assured him confidently.

Telepe looked down at Tari, amusement dancing in his eyes. "As I said… small acts of compassion do yield unexpected rewards," he murmured, chuckling tolerantly as she smirked up at him smugly.