CH4

May quickly fell into a rhythm of travel: rise early, walk all day, make camp, sleep. Traveling east the terrain was similar to the plain around Oswald. Low rolling hills and patchwork with forest and fields. The weeks passed easily The further from Oswald the better she felt about her decision. That might have been her caught up in the rest of the group's optimism of finally going home.

Every few days there would be a town and she would get to sleep in a bed. Most were small, no more than a collection of farms. Often the inn was simply a room above a general store. It took about a week to reach Alum. It was a bit larger sitting at a major crossroads. From there they would travel North out of Sudeland into the Kingless land and on to Richosia. There would be no beds for weeks past Alum. They stocked up on supplies though not as much as would normally be required on account of the porridge pot. Enjoyed a last prepared meal and bed then turned to the empty northern road.

There was something about once they started moving north that the journey felt truly real. It did not scare her, instead it relieved many of her anxieties. She had not seen one since Oswald, but all through the trip she felt them following her even if they weren't. Now on the desolate road all to themselves she felt like she was actually able to escape. She even started using magic a little, not anything big.

While traveling the remote woods on the northern road. She finished making sure her part of the camp was secure. Taking a once over the lilac buds of Rhysidium caught her eye. It reminded her of a potion her and her mother made often. It seemed only yesterday she would wait for the shrub to bloom in their yard then beg her mom to make the potion. Delicately she plucked the rounded petals and went off in search of the other ingredients. Surrounded by the forest even the dawning fall it wasn't hard to find them. Lamb's ear, the sap of a tree older than 100 seasons, and a twig from a songbird's nest all mixed with water from the brook they made camp by was all it took. helping it along with the words of magic potion turned from foamy green to the purple of the Rhysidium. It was complete.

She came over to where Bran was laying the logs for the fire. Trying her new spell it took a few tries but soon enough a fire was taking hold of the damp logs. She enjoyed these simple spells, they weren't enough to make her even tired and it was just enough for the magic to drive any cold from her.

"Thanks."

"I made a potion."

"What is it?"

"Just try it."

He eyed her suspiciously. She rolled her eyes and took a sip. She let the chilled liquid slide down her throat then blew out. Iridescent bubbles flew out of her mouth. They floated lazily down twisting in the slightest breeze. The first one popped in the heat of the fire. From its void came the clear warble of a nightingale burst out. With each bubble came a new bird call. He smiled and took a swig. Tam and Ruth joined in, till the air was full of birdsong more than any forest's song. The last bubble popped with the chirp of a starling. May smiled as a confused dove called out in the night. She used to use that potion all the time. Blowing one bubble at a time she learned each call. She tried so hard to find a song that matched her familiar, her mother didn't have the heart to tell her she never would. Thinking of this memory she pet Areon; smoothing the little bird's feathers. She looked at it as if checking for a call one last time.

"That's fascinating" Ruth said

"What's it called?"asked Bran

"I don't know. It doesn't have a name, it's just something my mom made for me."

"I think you should name it." he said

She thought carefully about it, imagining witches' children playing with it years from now using her name from it. Fantasy she knew but still. Most spells and potions like the books had literal names, but some bore the name of their ancient creator.

"Anwen's song" she wondered if the name would stick and in a thousand years scholars would debate the virtues of Anwen the great witch. It would be nice if someone else remembered her and this was the perfect potion for her.

"Anwen's song." Bran said, looking at the empty bowl covered in the swirling remnants of the potion. "You'll have to make it again."

"Yes I think I will."

The night before they crossed the nebulous boundary out of Sudeland, everyone sat huddled by the fire. May wrapped herself tightly in her cloaks. The cold had come and their path only led them to harsher climes. She looked at the faces around the fire. She would have to trust them and only them as they walked through the unknown. This didn't toubler her. She had been with them a while and knew them better at least.

Tam was confident in his leadership and took it seriously. Mainly that everyone under him was his responsibility. He did his best to keep everyone safe. With Bran that was a struggle but he tried. Though very work minded, nearly every night he pulled out his harp. Ruth insisted upon his mediocrity but with only Alestra's singing as her music education she looked forward to it each night. He also took time in the long days to teach her how to use a knife. Her dagger was not much more than a paring knife. Her naivete from living away from the world so long concerned him.

Bran was a willing sparring partner, but he was willing for most things. His penchant for talking and habit of exaggerating made him a good storyteller. May was drawn to his vivid stories. The twist of his accent created an interesting rhythm to follow. He told tales of great feats and acts of heroism. I had no doubt a good deal of artifice. May knew that too but she admired them all the same. There were shreds of truth in them. They did show the close bond he had with Tam. He clearly looked up to the older man. Though he put himself in good light Tam was more often the hero and many of the stories were Tam helping him out of scrapes he put them in. This wasn't surprising even in the small space of the traveling party he found miscife to make. He often recruited May into his plans finding magic a useful tool for tricks as May had. One of the more memorable was sneaking Anwen's song in one of the water skins but switching it around so throughout the day bubbles would randomly burst forth from someone's mouth. It was a nightmare for Tam who was trying to keep a low profile which was not helped by the cacophony of bird calls every half an hour or so. Ruth enjoyed it more mainly because she caught on by the second time and slipped it to Bran.

Ruth was what May imagined a Grandmother to be and indeed she was a grandmother to 8. However most women, let alone women of her age were not the skilled cunning fighter she was. In the occasional sparring bout she had about even odds of winning with Tam though he was double her size and under half her age. She didn't say much about her past but the bit she relinquished painted a woman with a very unusual life. Of all of them she took to May the most. All throughout the day she would glance and check on May. At night she would make sure and hold back food from the two men for her. Overall she was just a caring presence that put May at ease. Her preferred pastime was not music or story telling; she gave off the air of having heard it all. She spent the night in camp carving small figurines in wood or foraging in the woods for unusual flora. Those she picked had the unusual dichotomy of being medicinal, most May was already familiar with, or toxic. Before she returned from these nighttime hunts there was always a bet whether she had found the former or latter. Friend or foe they cast their predictions.

The long hours of travel and the demands of traveling in such remote places tended to bind people together. The book Bran got eased many of those needs. At night protected and hidden by the trees away from any watching eyes the little group made camp for the night once more. The repetition from days past let camp unpack smoothly and quickly. A bright fire was secure before the last of the sunset was gone. Tam chopped wood with a rhythmic beat while Bran set up the small wind break. Ruth left for one of her forrays while there was still light to see. May started cooking a meal, real meal not pridge. Tam was quite adept with his bow and they did buy some supplies before leavin Alum. May hummed a tune as she rotated the potatoes roasting in the coals and griddled the rabbits shot that day. The wonderful smells of cooking food were thrown in the air with embers. May leaned back propping herself on her elbows. She was finally completely at ease out of the tower.

She smiled as Bran stood on top of the horse trying to reach fruit in a tall tree. He was lucky she was so tolerant. I was tempted to ask her to rear. She threw him off all on her own. In his precarious position her stepping forward was enough to unbalance him. His reflexes were much better than his judgment. He landed harmlessly in an elegant role, but May still stood to make sure he was okay. He rolled one more time before hopping up and biting into a fruit . His smirk soured. The fruit was a ways off being ripe. May couldn't stifle a laugh. The bright hearty laugh filled the clearing. Bran pegged her with the beginnings of an orange and stubbornly continued eating the one he started.

They were out of Sudeland but had yet to reach the high plains of the kingless states. They still traveled through a thick forest. That day was the river crossing. It was a wide muddy river with steep banks. A small not altogether steady bridge trussed over the waters. Fall meant the water was at its lowest. The base of the bridge was a good twenty meters out from the water. A larger flood plain without trees stretched along the river's edge. Long grasses bent over with their own weight leaving a clear view of the place. There was no one in sight. A small shed leaned near the bridge but that was all.

Tam stopped the group just inside the treeline. As he prepared the rest of us he kept glancing back. He made everyone get off the wagon. May guided the horse with the other three in an arrow formation. Tam was on point and though he didn't draw his weapon he made sure his axes were at the ready.

"Be prepared to be stopped. Stay together." He led us out in the open and stopped just before the shed.

Two men rose from cleverly hidden hollows on either side of the road. Behind there were four more with bows where the front had pikes. They weren't what May pictured as brigans. They were both more and less frightening. They were clean and normal sized but there was a hard set to their eyes. They weren't afraid of them, of killing, of anything. She pressed her hand on the focus beneath her dress. Bran losend his sword from its sheath and stood with the perfect stillness when every muscle is taught. Ruth was more blase leaning on her spear. Tam was in a standoff with the front men. Neither would speak first, then the men gave in first.

"Allright pay up to cross the bridge."

Tam sighed "That's not necessary I think you'll find my fee has been paid."

"I don't think you understand." he strode closer not stopping till he was inches from Tams face.

"No you don't understand. I ride with the storm." his voice lowered in warning and he rolled back his sleeve exposing a dark tattoo of a cloud split by lightning surrounded by many black bands circling his arm. The man backed down and conferred with the other. He frowned and left, entering the small shed..

"Tam?" she asked.

"This is where Gewain is supposed to be," he said. "Let's just hope we got here before any message from Gawain."

A man emerged from the shed. He looked quite funny coming from such a humble building dressed in fine velvet and too much jewelry.

"Well his right hand man is here," muttered Ruth

"If you and yours will follow me." There were strange affectations to his voice difficult to place. He turned without a response back to the shed. Tam followed so the others did too. Ruth fell back and stayed with the horses.

Entering the shed it was empty but for a black hole straight down. They descended a ladder to a cold damp room that was lined with stone walls, ceiling and floors. A few low spots had puddles. It was low light with not much more light than the fire at the back of the room . other than its unfortunate location it was a fine room with tapestries on the walls and furniture waxed to a shine. Shelves were stuffed with all sorts of items but they were all luxuries, statuettes blown glass and more. There were several more men that waited Man in velvet reclined in a plush chair that matched his color scheme in front of them. A lazy hand wave gesture for us to sit at a table before him. Bran held her arm and under his breath said "If anything happens just run, it's no good fighting in here."

"Why are you stopping me?" said Tam.

"Is that even a question, you should know why."

Tam sighed, "What did you hear from Gewain?"

"Oh enough to know I can't let you go."

"Surely we can come to some sort of agreement. You do not have to be Gewain's dog."

He laughed, "As if you are not one as well, but you have a point. I have no desire to get mixed up in a family squabble. I still will need something for my troubles though."

"Our goods are for Geoffry not for you," said Ruth.

"I must have payment. You know Gewains temper it only makes sense you reimburse me for the damages of the fury you caused."

"Fine, but it is not just gewain you should be wary of," said Tam.

"I don't think you are in a position to threaten me."

"I will leave you a delicacy, you have heard of the fish of avon haven you," said Tam.

His eyes glittered, "I will have to have a sample to make sure it is the real deal."

"Of course." said Tam

The group made its way back outside. Much of the tension abated now that they weren't trapped in that room. Tam Hoisted one of the small barrels out of the wagon and opened it for all to see the fish glistening with its own oil laying on salt. Not just the leader but all of his men took a chunk to sample. It didn't seem to be to most of their tastes but the leader liked it.

"How much do you have?" he asked.

"Three more barrels," said Tam.

"Leave them all and you may go. I hope you remember my generosity when reporting to Greoffry," His confident facade cracked as he said the name Geoffry.

"Very well, I'm glad this could be settled peacefully." He motioned for Ban and May to get in the wagon as he took out the last of the fish.

"Oh, that was only payment for the storm, the witch stays here." He said. She froze as those words squeezed her heart like it was trying to stop it.

"What." snapped Tam.

"Did you really think Gewain wouldn't mention her?" he smirked. "As long as I keep her Gewain wouldn't care about the rest."

She was frozen in fear but Bran wasn't. He pushed her up onto the wagon beside Ruth who was already gathering up the reins and drew his sword.

"I can't do that," said Tam.

"Kill them," he said greedily and he and his men closed in.

May took a breath and started thinking again as the cart ratted into motion giving her a good shake. Ruth urged the horse on quicker. Her heart still raced, but her hands were calm enough she started casting a fire spell she had read many times. It would be best for the large number that closely followed the party. Bran at the back of the wagon poking back any of the many men who go to close. Tam stayed at the entrance to the bridge. As soon as the wagon had crossed, Tam hacked as many supports as he could. Bran and Ruth hopped off the wagon and Protected Tam and kept the men from crossing while he worked.

The narrow funnel of the bridge along with its rickety footing allowed them to keep the superior numbers at bay. Still it was only time before one of the archers landed a mark. She aimed the spell at them wanting to stop their volley. May let loose the fire. It wasn't quite right her fingers were tight and she stumbled on words. She had never cast it before. It sputtered like spiraling black smoke. Then exploded all at once below its target. The bridge shattered under the force and the men fell to the river below. None of them seemed too hurt but the muddy banks were too steep for them to climb easily. Not to mention the panic her explosion had caused not a single one was trying to climb the banks towards them. They all desperately were fleeing fearing another fireball. But may was unnerved by the misfire, and it sapped more energy than it should have. There wouldn't be another fire ball. She hardly noticed anything else other than the burning inside her.

It still bought them enough space to escape. The river was too slow to prevent crossings but it would take some time for them to regroup. Hopefully they would be too far to be pursued when that happened. They traveled hurriedly, not stopping till late in the night. May was too scared of what was behind to tell anyone how weak she had become. She didn't want them to slow for anything. Still she was on the verge of blacking out when they made camp.

She knew how foolish it was to try and cast a spell she hadn't practiced. Misfires without the check of a practice clause could be devastating. She felt lucky to be no more than fatigued. But she was more than fatigued, I knew the pain she felt now and would feel in the morning. She would not let fear make her carless casting again. They made a fireless camp and May fell asleep on the ground before the camp had been unloaded.

The next morning May woke much later than normal. She grunted as she sat up and rubbed her throbbing head. Her entire body ached. Her muscles were knotted and though none could be seen she was covered in bruises. She rolled over on her hands and knees to get up. A fire now burned slowly. Tam and Bran were nowhere to be seen. Ruth sat on her bed roll silently keeping watch.

"You alright girl?" she asked.

"Yeah," she started stretching out her stiff body. "My spell went a little wrong yesterday so I'm feeling that."

"Are you alright to travel?"

She nodded, "I'm a little sore that's all."

She was more than sore but she knew they had to travel today. How far would they be pursued? The safety of distance was what they needed. She took the tough wheat cake Ruth offered her and shuffled to the horse. She scratched the mare's forehead and fed her the rest of the fairly inedible cake. May sluggishly clean the horse's coat. Her mind as tired as her body didn't even notice the absence of Bran till he came trotting back into camp.

"What happened to you?" He asked.

"My spell misfired yesterday. I'll be fine."

He seemed confused and left, coming back a minute later. He dropped a heavy, very warm blanket around her shoulders. "The heat will help ease the pain, why did the spell do this?"

"I didn't cast it properly and the magic had to go somewhere." The heat was loosening her tight muscles.

He scrunched his face in sympathy "well, it was an impressive mistake. It sure scared those guys. I traveled back a good hour or so and there was no sight of them."

"The spell normally isn't that … explosive. Where is Tam."

"He is making false trails. If they even catch up. he should be back soon. … I hope that didn't scare you too much."

It petrified her, but she shrugged "Why doesn't Gewain like magic."

"He doesn't like witches. Like most cases he had a bad run in with one."

"I don't think it would help that I'm not a witch technically."

"An irrational person like Gewain doesn't care about that."

She wasn't sure if she would get an answer, "How is Gawain related to you guys?"

"He is our boss' brother, so we have to put up with him."

She wondered if the rest of the storm was violent like Gawain but she didn't ask. With Bran's help she hitched up the wagon. Then everyone packed up camp and waited for Tam. Tam finally returned as the sun crested the tree line. Immediately the group headed out, but not at the pace of yesterday. May dozed off several times throughout the day. She rode in the wagon the whole day. Everyone could see the pain she was in. She needed the rest. The relaxed muscles and wandering mind let the excess magic seep out of her body. She would heal quicker than natural wounds but she wouldn't be so reckless again. The rest of the group unwound too. Tam took his turn to rest in the back of the wagon with her.

"Thank you,"she said.

"For what? If anything I should be thanking you for destroying the bridge. Especially with what it's done to you."

She shook her head, "You wouldn't have had to run if you left me with them."

"That was never an option."

"But there were so many of them."

"That doesn't matter."

"Still any of you could have gotten hurt."

"But you would have been killed if you stayed," he patted her head. "Even if that wasn't true, you are part of my crew now and I wouldn't abandon you. We are all getting to Richosia."

She smiled nodding off. She didn't know if she believed him fully. It was so long ago that anyone looked out for her earnestly. The words comforted her all the same. The greater the distance from the bridge the safer it was. A few days later they were out of the Tabard hills and climbing into the plains of the kingless states.