Chapter Three

Following the road, he headed southeast, which eventually turned south, and Lucas walked on, passing by a burnt-down house just outside the town, and continued on the road. Looking ahead, he noticed that there weren't any structures ahead, but did notice a line of hills that obscured the coastline, and surmised that the coastal houses must be behind them. Continuing on, he passed by Misanthropes Island, jutting out of the frozen sea to his right, the hilly island capped by the two-storied house where the hermit used to live, and the cave entrance just visible on the north-eastern side of the island, pointing towards Cinder Hills. It was then that Lucas noticed his destination. The road continued between two hills, like a river running through a gorge, but to the right was a break in the hills, which led to a flattened area, with amongst the grove of trees stood three houses, two of which were still standing, the other in ruins, burnt down to the foundations. Two men were at work chopping up a tree that had fallen over, their outermost layers removed to allow the cold to keep heat and sweat away, whilst two more, a man and a woman, stood guard whilst carrying rifles, on the lookout, their breaths steaming as they stood in the cold, warded off only by their multiple layers of clothing.

"Greetings," Lucas called out, waving his arm in greeting while he was still a distance off.

The four individuals raised their heads, looking at the newcomer, but went back to work, and one of the guards walked over, still carrying the rifle in her arms.

"You don't look like the usual delivery person," she asked. "Mind telling me your name?"

"Lucas Vorban, though most know me as Orion," Lucas answered. "Mayor Quincey hired me to deliver these supplies to you. Cinder Hills is on high alert from a bull sighting, and they're down a watchman, so I was asked to deliver them instead."

The guard's eyes opened in recognition of his name. "Oh, my apologies. We're just a little on edge as of late." She turned towards the houses, and Lucas followed beside her, listening while she explained their situation.

"We're the lumber outpost, we chop up the branches and trees that fall down, and collect the sticks that are scattered. Not glamorous, but it's necessary, as the firewood is transported back to Cinder Hills and to the other outposts. Usually, we don't have any problems. But last night, we spotted a wolf lurking nearby. Typically they stay away from us if they can help it, we don't make much of a meal, and we fight back, so we aren't worth it. But this wolf, its leg looked injured. We think it got wounded, maybe by a bear or moose, maybe another wolf, but it's become desperate, and a desperate wolf is dangerous, as they are more likely to go after one of us."

Lucas nodded his head. "That is a problem. How about we get these goods dropped off and put away, then I can talk to Mayor Quincey about it. She might want me to take care of this wolf for you."

The guard smiled. "That would be wonderful, thank you."

Leading him to the closest house, the guard, who introduced herself as Lena, led him into the cottage. It was a small building, with a communal bedroom, kitchen and living space rolled into one, as well as a long drop in the bathroom. There was also a sink that was apparently connected to a water tank behind the cottage, but because of the temperatures, they had to melt snow to get water, as the water tank had frozen. Depositing half of the goods in the cupboards, Lucas was led into the second building, where the process was repeated again. Walking out of the cottage with a much lighter pack, Lucas was greeted by the other residents of the outpost, all of whom had come to thank him and see him off.

"You have our most sincere thanks for delivering these goods for us," one of the axemen said. "With the number of supplies you've given us, we should be able to last for a while, and if we ration them, we might not need the next two deliveries."

The others gave their affirmations.

"It's no problem," Lucas assured. "I've been promised payment for this, but your thanks are appreciated. Mayor Quincey wanted me to relay that there won't be another delivery for a while, either until the injured watchman is all better, or if the bull moose wanders off, whichever comes first. So there won't be a delivery for a while."

"We'll be fine," Leno assured. "We have plenty of food, as well as playing cards for when we get bored."

"Very well then, if that's all, I'll be off. I'll talk to Quincey about your wolf situation; she might want me to take care of it for you."

Setting off to the farewells of the four workers, Lucas started walking, this time heading across the ice, as he wanted to take the fastest route back. But as he was about to pass by Misanthropes Island, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. A boat. Lucas turned fully to face it and saw that a small sailing boat, only slightly larger than a dinghy, was coming towards the ice, its sail limp in the calm wind, moving forward with the currents. While Lucas didn't pay it much thought, what he saw on the boat did pique his interest. A pile of clothes. This pile, consisting of many colours and fabrics, was piled in the centre of the boat, and no person was to be seen steering the vessel.

'With all of those clothes, I could do some good trading with the other settlements,' he thought to himself. 'I could potentially get enough supplies to last the winter.' It only took a moment's consideration before he made a beeline to the boat.

The boat had at this point reached the edge of the ice, bumping against it, but coming to a standstill. Lucas made his way forward, before spreading his legs to the side and slowly shuffling forwards. Knowing that the ice was going to be much weaker near the edge, he needed to get as close as possible while spreading his weight across as much of the ice surface as possible. Getting even closer to the edge, he lowered himself onto his hands and knees, feeling the cold of the ice bite through his gloves and pants, but he paid little attention. Getting as close as he reasonably could, and hearing a crack and a groan underneath him, he sprang forwards, causing the ice to crack, but launching himself onto the boat. It rocked from side to side from the sudden added weight but calmed after a moment. Letting out a breath that he didn't realise he was holding, Lucas sighed, slumping his back onto the side of the boat. Regaining himself, he turned his attention to the pile of clothes, but just as he was about to grab a nearby jacket, he froze. The pile moved. He was sure of it. Not by much, but the pile had shifted. Getting closer to the pile, he unsheathed his hatchet, and holding it up with one hand, he started to carefully peel away the layers of clothing with the other. The first few layers were wet from sea spray. But the further down he got, the drier they became until they were close enough to being dry that there wasn't any need to keep his gloves on. Removing and stowing them away, he continued, until when he pulled away some under thermals, he saw a lock of blonde hair.

"A person," he murmured to himself. Moving more and more clothes, he uncovered the person huddling beneath, and before him, laying cold and shivering was a blond-haired, pale-skinned woman.