The Bite of Winter
Matthias sits silently in the cart, carefully thinking things over for the next few hours while Eir keeps control of the reigns, not bothering to interrupt his thoughts.
He knows that Torleif wants to march towards the capital and end the fighting as quickly as possible. It is not a bad plan, but attacking the most guarded place in the entire Kingdom does not come without massive risks and a guaranteed need for sacrifice. If they are to even consider that as a real possibility, then they should come up with a plan that does not make the entire idea a suicide mission.
There might be ways to sabotage the lines of supplies going to the capital, Matthias thinks. If the people within the city run out of food, then they will not be able to keep on fighting. If they want to survive, then they will have to give in to the rebel army. It is not much of a plan yet, but it is certainly the beginning of one.
He just needs to figure out a way to get into the city and past the number of walls that according to Eir keep the social classes separate from each other. Looking like the commoners that they are, they might get into the city, but not much further than that. They would need a lot more coin than they have and proof of status to lie their way into the city center. That is not likely to happen, but there has to be some way to make it past city gates that bypasses the official and legal means.
For his plans to work he will also need a few people that are willing to separate from the main rebel army to head towards the capital on their own. The two people he knows for sure he wants to bring along are Berwald and Tino. He cannot imagine going anywhere without both of them by his side, with all of the things they have been through together.
Berwald is a good and trustworthy friend, willing to stand by Matthias and his choices in silent support. Where Matthias is rash and wanting to act immediately, Berwald is the one capable of taking a step back and considering every outcome first. They are going to need his level head to stay alive. He is also the one most likely to know what kind of equipment they will have to scavenge if they need to find a way to scale the walls to even enter the city.
Tino is an important piece in his game for several reasons. He has proved himself to be a highly skilled scout and capable in a fight. Being a hunter for most of his life has made him silent in his movement and observant of any change in the terrain around him. If they want to find a way to disrupt supply routes, they are going to need at least one good scout and Tino is the one Matthias trusts the most.
A decent sabotage-mission should probably have a lot more people involved, but he has to be careful about who he chooses and how many. A smaller group stands a lesser chance of discovery, and it is not likely that Torleif wants to lose too many of his fighters on what might be a fools' errand, that is if he even approves of the mission at all.
When the day turns into evening and the caravan finally comes to a halt, Matthias is quick to grab his bag and make his way back to Berwald and the weapon's cart.
Eir has finally grown tired of his presence despite her earlier good mood, and Matthias has made an effort to not badger her with questions after their conversation about Vettes and battle tactics. The constant battering they are both constantly receiving from the journey has finally gotten to her it seems. It has caused increasingly creative curses to flow from the elderly woman, and Matthias is relieved to get some distance before she turns murderous between the she complaints she makes about her sore back.
Tino has returned from scouting and is already helping Berwald prepare a shelter for the night and offers Matthias a friendly smile as he approaches along with a shovel to help clear some snow from the ground. They have already turned the cart sideways on the road to block out most of the wind and are busy putting up a tarp from the cart to the ground to create a makeshift tent. It is small and they will have to huddle close to fit, but after all the nights spent outside, they all know to appreciate the body heat that the tight squeeze offers.
By time there are done, there are cooking fires burning and a few variations of soups and stews bubbling away, and it does not take long before the three of them can accept a bowl each and head back to their shelter to eat somewhere their food might not freeze within minutes being off the fire.
They eat in silence for a few minutes, before Matthias looses his patience and all but blurts out his plans to infiltrate the capital with a small group and sabotage it from within, and it is certainly not his best speech.
Tino chokes on his food, and he coughs desperately to clear his airways to a point where tears are leaking from the corners of his eyes. "Are you crazy?" he asks shrilly between coughs, looking absolutely horrified at the entire idea.
Matthias looks into his bowl with the sad remains of stew, which by now consists of a sodden and sad piece of cabbage that does nothing to stir his appetite. "Well," he mumbles. "It's not like we have many other or better ideas." Not willing to waste any food, he empties the bowl and shudders at the taste, and he shivers with cold now that he no longer has a source of heat in his hands. "If we don't start to do things differently soon, then we might just end up slowly starving or freezing to death. If the soldiers find us like this, then we're not going to be able to put up much of a fight, and I'm not the only one worried about this."
"Let's say we entertain this idea," Tino snaps, "how would we get people inside the city? With an active rebellion going on, they're not going to let just anybody in past the city gates."
"I don't have a complete plan just yet," Matthias replies grumpily, fiddling with the empty bowl and spoon to distract himself. "I am still trying to come up with the details, I just know we have to consider a few different options."
Berwald mutters something unintelligible under his breath and the wind outside their little shelter howls loudly as if to agree with him.
"The three of us and maybe a few more can do a lot of damage if only we can get into the city," Matthias argues quickly, not willing to let the others talk him down so easily. "They might not let anybody into the city right now, but a few people should be able to talk their way through the gates, pretending to be outside merchants or refugees seeking work. As long as we don't approach armed and in stolen armor, they might just let us in."
Tino's gaze wanders between Berwald and Matthias as he tries to make up his own mind. "Do you even think Torleif will let us go?" he asks hesitantly, but there is a spark of interest in his eyes. "It sounds dangerous as hell, but I have to admit it sounds tempting to strike the Capital from within. We might finally land a blow that hurts them for real."
Berwald still does not look convinced. "You are going to have to come up with a much better plan than just waltzing through the front gate if you want Torleif or anybody else to consider it. An idea is not enough for him to allow anybody to go."
The words are firm, and make a clear end of their discussion, and Matthias looks down into his empty bowl to hide his disappointment from openly showing and pretends that the expression on his face comes from lack of food. He had wanted to discuss the matter further, maybe even brainstorm a little, and had hoped his friends would be a lot more supporting rather than just not strongly opposed, but it is all he can do for now.
Another gust of wind brings another blast of snow into their sanctuary, and they all shiver violently against the merciless cold. The other two finish their meal before it can freeze solid and clean up their bowls with a bit of snow before they settle down for the night.
There are no more extra blankets to go around, and the firewood limited, so in order to stay warm, they huddle close together, wrapping their cloaks firmly around each other. Tino was the one to shiver his way through the entire meal and ends up in middle, between the two bulkier men. He seemed uncomfortable at first, barely moving a single muscle in the cramped space and apologizing every time he shifted around, but as sleep takes over, he relaxes and snuggles in close, breathing deep.
Matthias remains awake for a long time after the two others have fallen asleep, his mind churning endlessly. He is not willing to give up on his plan yet and he is wracking his brain to come up with a more solid plan that might convince Berwald and then the others that it is achievable.
There is also the Vette-protection he wants to prepare. Out of the ingredients Eir mentioned, only the ashes are easy to come by. He can snatch up a handful of those from any of the dying campfires when morning comes, but the Foxglove he has no idea how he might come by. The snow has already settled this far north and any that might have been growing in the area will be dead and buried. Not that he knows how he would use any of it anyways besides maybe throw it at Luka's face. Eir never said how any of it might work, and if he needs magic to work it as a spell or something, he might as well give up right now. Even if he can figure it out, he wonders if he will be able to use it with the intention of actually hurting Lukas.
Sleep does not come easy, and his rapid thoughts and the cold only makes it worse. He lays there for a long time, shivering and listening to the sentries walking back and forth outside, trying to stay warm in the ruthlessly cold night. Their boots crunch against the freshly fallen snow, back and forth, and only rarely do they speak to each other in muted voices.
Berwald and Tino started clinging to each other at some point, their bodies unconsciously seeking out and preserving heat. Matthias looks at them for a while, not feeling bold enough to move closer, even though he longs for the heat radiation off them. They look so peaceful and content like that and it feels like he is intruding on something he has no part in.
Eventually though, he gives up and scoots his bedroll closer. Folding his arms over his chest to warm his hands up without touching, he tucks in close and rests his head against Tino's back.
With some warmth finally seeping into his limbs, the constant crunching of footsteps outside lulls him to sleep.
Matthias awakes to a quiet yelp right next to his ear, and rapid movement as the heat source he is clinging to attempt to get away. Somewhere there is a deep voice muttering a complain and Matthias agrees wholeheartedly, wanting to cling on to sleep and comfort for a little while longer.
His heat source for some reason emits another pitiful noise and struggles harder.
More noise coming from outside their tent finally pulls Matthias further from the clutches of sleep despite his best efforts of blocking out the sound. "Get up everybody!" somebody shouts. "No time to waste, we have to get moving!" There is a tap on the roof of their shelter and a cold breeze makes its way inside making him shiver.
"As cozy as this is," a voice he now recognizes as Tino says, "Could you maybe let go of me now?"
Matthias blinks a few times before the world finally comes into focus and he realizes that he is clinging desperately to Tino as his heat source. He lets go immediately and mutters an apology as he pulls back. At the corner of his eye, he notices that Berwald is pulling further away as well, but he does not look apologetic for having invaded Tino's personal space and refused to let him go.
They move quickly after that to fight off the chill that is rapidly rushing into their tent. Under normal circumstances it might have been a little awkward to untangle from each other, but pride is not worth freezing to death over. They all just want to pack their bags as quickly as possible so they can get up and move to warm up properly and prepare for the day's march.
As they are packing down the canvas from their shelter, Torleif comes walking towards them and there is a grim expression on his face. He makes a short nod in greeting and discretely makes a gesture for Matthias to come walk with him, apparently not wanting the conversation to take a place with too many witnesses.
"What happened?" Matthias whispers once he catches up with Torleif after a quick jog.
Torleif huffs out a deep breath of air and drags a gloved hand through his hair, sending a flutter of snow shattering in every direction. "You'll see soon enough. I just got the word for myself." He makes his way through the tents until they see one of the night-sentries waiving them over.
The sentry's lips are drawn tight as he greets them, and he leads them in silence towards one of the tents that has not yet been taken down. He pulls the canvas aside and gestures for Torleif and Matthias to come closer so they can have a look.
Inside there are two people, huddled close together in a pile of clothes and blankets, but neither of them is moving. After receiving a nod from Torleif, Matthias kneels down and pulls aside one of the blankets to see what lies underneath.
The face revealed belongs to an elder woman, her face pale and with a bluish tint. Her eyes are closed as if in sleep, but she will never wake up. Matthias pulls aside the next blanket and reveals another dead face. This one belonging to an older man, most likely the husband. They are curled around each other, trying to preserve heat, but it was not enough.
Matthias' skin breaks out in gooseflesh, and he pulls the cloth back up to cover the bodies once more. They have seen what they need to. The couple deserve some peace from prying eyes.
"They passed away sometime in the night," the night sentry says quietly, breaking the tense silence. "We only noticed at wakeup call when there was no response. The cold got to them."
Standing up again, Matthias steps away from the tent. He gives Torleif a look and realizes that there must be worse news waiting, because Torleif's entire body is wound so tense it looks like he might snap at any second. "These are not he only ones, are they?" he asks eventually.
Torleif shakes his head, confirming Matthias' fears.
"How many others are there?" Matthias asks, feeling his stomach twist uncomfortably.
"At least six more from what I've heard," Torleif replies grimly, muttering a long string of curses under his breath. "So, eight people and a horse we have lost to this damned cold!" He runs a hand over his beard and kicks at a pile of snow, sending white fluff flying in every direction. "All of them have seen more then fifty winters, but we cannot afford to lose a single soul unnecessarily." He sighs heavily, deflating a bit. "We cannot even give them a proper burial; it will take too much time. We're gonna have to leave them behind. At least the horse can still do us some good, fresh meat is hard to come by out here at this time of year."
They turn around to the sound of hooves and a messenger comes riding up to them. "Everybody's up sir, they will be ready to move immediately after breakfast is finished. Do you have a plan for where we're heading?"
"We move south," Torleif replies firmly, without much consideration. "We're freezing to death up here, and the south is usually milder. I'll give a speech after I'm done here, see if we can raise moral a little after this miserable night." The messenger gives him a nod and returns, while Torleif turns back on Matthias. "Do you think you're ready to get back on horseback? I would like you out scouting again."
"I'm good," Matthias says, rather quickly. "I'd rather ride for an entire day than getting knocked around in one of those carts for even one more hour."
Torleif's lip twitches in half an attempt at a smile. "Understood. Go get something to eat, lad. I'll go find a horse you can use and send it your way."
Matthias heads back to his friends after that to help them pack down the final few things before they all choke down a lukewarm bowl of gruel for breakfast. They feel somber as they eat while Matthias tells them the news of the people passing away in the night, and Torleifs further plans.
It does not take much time before somebody shows up with a horse, and hands Matthias the reigns without a single word. Berwald does not look impressed at the news, but Tino looks excited to have Matthias come along on the patrols.
There is loud yelling and voices coming from the area where they lit most of their cooking fires not long after, and they all turn their attention that way. Torleif is standing atop one of the carts waiting for people to gather around, ready for a speech.
"Some of you might have heard the news already," he yells, "but I think it is best you all hear it from me to avoid rumors spreading. I am saddened to tell you that tonight we lost eight people. Good people, taken by the cold before their time." He pauses to collect himself and find the right words to continue. "It feels like such an unnecessary loss, one that could have been avoided. For a while now, my advisors and I have struggled to decide on how we will continue our journey in the best way. This has made me sure of my decision. We will move towards the south where it is warmer and where there are more people where we will spread the word of rebellion." He makes a sharp gesture to keep people from raising their voices to ask questions. "That is the final word for now, we will move immediately after breakfast."
"Well, that was cheery," Tino whispers to the others as Torleif steps down from the cart and people begin talking loudly all at once. Everybody seems to have an opinion about their new path, but most seem positive about leaving the frigid north despite knowing there are higher risks of encountering soldiers in the south.
"It could have been worse," Matthias replies. "At least people are motivated to keep going now."
"I guess," Tino sighs and shudders. "Ugh, lets just finish packing and get out of here. I can't wait to get moving." He turns on his heels and walks away in a hurried pace, with his head ducked down, most likely heading for his horse, to prepare for a long day of riding.
Matthias does not reply, and neither does Berwald. Tino is not the only one antsy to leave. Most of the rebels are uncomfortable waiting around in a place where they know people died, it feels like the entire area has an aura of bad luck. They know they cannot spend the time for a proper burial, and it is far easier to just get back on the road, rather than dwell on the circumstances.
Berwald shakes his head. "Better get your own horse saddled before Tino leaves you behind," he says. There is a strange look on his face. "You be careful out there, look after each other."
The scouting team heading out splits up into pairs of two to spread out further to increase their chance of finding a road better traveled for the caravan. Tino claims Matthias as his partner for the day, and the two of them head out towards the south to check if their planned route is safe enough.
Matthias' horse is slow and careful as it moves through the fresh snow, and he silently curses at Torleif for having found what might have been one of the slowest horse on this part of the continent. He might have thought it would be easier for Matthias to stay safe if the animal was incapable of high speeds and bucking off their rider. It is frustrating as hell at times, but being back on horseback and in a proper saddle by far wins over bouncing around on a cart.
Spending time with Tino is also a nice chance from Berwald's silent company over several hours, and Eir's evil stare and grumpy complaints. They don't talk much, preferring to keep their attention on the forest, and anything that might be out of place, but they do break the silence on occasions to discuss their next move.
Tino looks well at home out in nature and on horseback, his movements are precise and elegant, and he looks perfectly at ease. He has a quiver tied to the front of the saddle and his bow resting on his lap for easy access. If they are lucky, they might come across a stray animal throughout the day and secure some dinner for a few people. Matthias has his battle-axe strapped to his back, recently honed by Berwald and ready for a fight, just in case. He also has a sword hanging from the saddle, knowing that it is a faster weapon in case of an ambush.
After a few hours of riding, the forest finally grows less dense, and they ride out on an open plain. Riding a bit further out they can see the small road that the caravan will come from in a few hours. They can also see that it connects with a larger road, one Tino estimates is heading more or less south.
"If I remember correctly from a few maps I looked at earlier, that road should connect to the main road towards the Capital, Tino says, pointing out directions for Matthias. "We could reach that in a little less than two days if we rush ourselves. It would make travelling far easier, but also a lot more dangerous. I can guess that we are far more likely to run into soldiers on the main road, so we might want to look for an alternative south." He looks around, craning his neck. "Wait here for a minute, I'll have a look around."
He does not wait for Matthias to agree. He kicks his much quicker horse into a light gallop and makes a quick sweep of the area, riding alongside the new road for a little bit, but never out of sight of Matthias. He returns only a few minutes later. "This place looks all clear to me, He says. "There are no prints or track in the snow, so nobody has been here in the last two days at least."
Matthias gives him a nod. "Seems good. We should probably head back to give our report. They should be expecting us by now, we have been out here for quite a while."
Tino easily agrees, and they turn their horses around, heading back to the caravan, just following the narrow forest road to find them easier.
"Isn't it a little strange that we haven't come across any travelers or traders?" Matthias says thoughtfully after another hour or so in silence. "I hear these roads tend to be busy around late autumn and early winter with people moving around to sell their goods after a harvest and before the snow can close off most of the roads."
Tino thoughtfully scratches his neck with a gloved hand. "I've gotten used to it by now," he says. "We have met some people while we've been out on these patrols, and they all say the same thing. Those that have not heard about the rebellion yet have certainly heard about the insane taxes from the King. People don't want to waste their time out on the roads when there is the risk that nobody will be able to afford their goods, and when the risk of highway robbery is much higher with how desperate people are becoming."
It makes a lot of sense, and Matthias grimaces. It is difficult to hear just how much their country has gone to shit in the past few months.
"There are even a few people trying to get out of Feawen all together," Tino continues. "They believe that even if they survive this winter, they will not manage through the next one. They don't think the King will see reason and lower the taxes; more likely he will just keep increasing them until there is nothing left to take. It makes sense that their trying to make it to a kingdom with a better ruler, and with the number of soldiers out and about, it makes sense that they try to stay away from the main roads."
"I guess I might have done the same," Matthias agrees. "Well, if I had not accidentally started the rebellion that is." He laughs as he realizes his own words, and just how crazy it all is. He has not taken too much time to think about how much his simple action how much a simple act in Griven has snowballed out of control to affecting most of the continent.
Tino actually grins at him and burst out laughing. "We can't all be brave and dumb, ya know."
Matthias snorts. "Wow, thanks a lot. "What would you have done then if you did not join the rebellion?"
"Duh," Tino laughs. "I'm great at hiding and great at shooting. Obviously, I'd become a highwayman. Only targeting soldier scout of course. Those guys are dumb enough to travel alone thinking themselves invisible. Easy targets!"
Matthias bursts out laughing again until there are tears running from his eyes.
They keep on riding towards the camp, a little lighter at heart than before until they finally hear the noise from the rebel caravan approaching. The loud chatter from people and clattering of wood and metal is audible from a much longer distance than they are comfortable with. Because it would not be difficult for an enemy patrol to find them should they be out looking.
It seems they have settled down for the evening after a long day of marching, tying of horses and preparing fires for cooking. A few people greet them with a cheer or a wave as they approach, and it does not take much time for Torleif to take notice of them too and gesture for them to join him by a small fire on the outskirts of the camp.
He looks even more tired and exhausted than earlier, if that is even possible. His face looks ashen and there are dark blue circles underneath his eyes, footprints litter the ground around him, showing that he has been pacing around for quite some time, probably since he called for a halt. "Anything worth reporting out there?" he asks, while stifling a yawn.
"We're out of the forest soon," Tino replies promptly, ever eager to please. "The roads will be better and with our current pace we shout make it to the main roads in three days tops. I made a sweep and saw no tracks in the snow or any sign of people out there. Sadly, we didn't catch eye on any game out there either."
"Too bad about lack of game, but at least we have enough meat for a proper meal tonight." He rubs at his face and sighs tiredly. "If you two are up for it I would like you two back out scouting after dinner, just for a few more hours before we switch to the night rotation. I've just had a bad feeling all day and can't shake it. It's just been too quiet out there for far too long, and I'm just waiting for something to happen." He begins pacing back and forth on the spot, seemingly not finding enough peace to stand still, and digging deeper furrows into the ground. Had he not been chosen leader he would most likely have ridden off on his own to do the scouting by himself, but now he is limited to trusting other people with the job.
"Sure," Matthias says. "We'll head out after dinner."
Torleif gives them a weak, but grateful smile. "Thank you, boys. I don't want you roaming around too long, but I would feel better with a few extra people out there, just to be safe. Just don't push yourselves too far, you need to rest some too, because you'll be out again tomorrow as well. Now, go get some food before it is all gone. Sometimes I swear we're trying to feed an army of starving wolves rather than people." His words are spoken in a rough tone, but it is a weak attempt at hiding how much he cares for them.
Matthias is grateful for the excuse to take a short break. He has certainly enjoyed spending the day outside doing something useful, but they have not eaten anything, and he can hear his own stomach rumbling, when he catches the smell of cooking meat.
"I'm so hungry right now I don't care what it is we're eating," Tino says. He moves quickly through the crowd, searching for something, and it quickly turns out to be Berwald and the weapons cart, because when he catches eye on them, he quickens his pace.
They take the saddles off their horses to give the poor animals a proper rest while they look for a cooking fire where they can get their own ration.
Even knowing where the evening's stew got one of its ingredients, it does taste amazing, and they all devour their meals like they are worried someone might take it from them should they not eat fast enough. The tiny ration of meat does wonders to quiet down their snarling stomachs after a diet consisting mostly of rapidly decomposing vegetables.
Their situation does not seem quite so glum after a decent meal, and the camp quiets down around them as people settle down.
Tino sighs contently after the meal, taking care to lick both his spoon bowl clean before he cleans it carefully with a handful of snow. "Gods, I hope we can have some luck when we go back out scouting again. I would not mind another meal like that."
"You can say that again," Matthias agrees easily. "Should we get going?"
"I guess we should," Tino says with a sight as he stands up and brushes snow off his clothes. "Take care of the camp while we're gone Ber." He says brightly. "We'll expect a nice hot shelter when we come back."
Berwald only grumbles as Matthias and Tino head off to find their horses.
They spend a few hours out scouting until darkness begins creeping in on them and return to camp just in time before it is so dark they cannot see the path before their feet. It is still quiet on the path, no sign of people or animals on the road and they come back without any news for Torleif.
The night goes by without a hitch. It is still freezing, but this time the rebels have taken greater care to stay warm and survive the night and they make it through without losses which is a great relief.
Matthias and Tino head back out again for more scouting as soon as breakfast is devoured and the tents taken care of. This time they decide to backtrack the way the caravan has travelled already to make sure there is nobody following them that should not. There is no way to hide their tracks when so many people are walking across the same road, it would be easy for someone to track them and report their movements.
They ride in silence for several hours, much like the day before, never straying far off the stomped down path and then suddenly Tino increases his pace and heads deeper into the forest.
Matthias halts his horse and waits anxiously, not knowing if he should prepare for a fight or flight, and only moves Tino calls him over. He has gotten off his horse and is busy studying the ground.
"What did you find?" Matthias whispers, noticing the deep line of worry on Tino's forehead and figuring it might be best to stay quiet until he knows what is going on.
Tino points to a set of tracks on the ground. To Matthias it looks like a horse or two have trotted past and he does not think much of it.
"These do not belong to our people," Tino says sharply.
"How can you be sure?" Matthias asks, confused. "There are plenty of tracks going off from the path. Could be somebody in need of a piss break away from prying eyes. I've left plenty of tracks like that by myself."
"Yes, most of the tracks just of the main path are left by scouts and such, but if you look closer then you might notice that the shoes these horses are wearing are of a different make than anyone would use in the countryside. We have plenty of horses that are not even shod in our group." Tino says surely, and Mathias gains another level of respect for Tino and just how skilled he is at tracking. "They are headed in the same direction as the caravan, we should follow and make sure if it is just a few travelers or worse."
Tino climbs back into the saddle and turns in the same direction as the tracks, towards the caravan, and Matthias has no choice but to follow. Their pace quickly increases to a trot and then into a gallop as Tino weaves skillfully between the trees, driven by the need to figure out the situation.
After a few minutes he begins cursing rapidly and stops just long enough for Matthias to catch up. "This is not just one traveler," he says nervously and points towards where the trail they have followed catches up with a much larger collection of tracks.
"Can you tell how many they are?" Matthias asks.
Tino jumps off his horse to study the tracks closer. "Not exactly, but I would say there have to be at least thirty in this group." He curses more and rans a hand through his hair out of frustration. "This could just be one large scouting party, but it could also be more serious. No matter what, we have to get back and warn Torleif, and then we need to find this group quick!"
Quickly Tino climbs back into the saddle and sets off.
Matthias is hot on his heels and struggles to stay in the saddle at the breakneck pace Tino sets. Branches whip his face when he is too slow to duck, but he keeps going and they push their horses to their absolute limit. Matthias can just barely see the tracks they are following joined up with an even bigger cluster of tracks.
This is not a scouting team," Tino yells. "This is an assault team, and they are heading right for the caravan!"
"We can't let them catch our people by surprise!" Matthias yells back. "They are sitting ducks out there. We have to get to them first."
They turn their horses towards the main path that the rebels have followed so their horses can move faster across already downtrodden ground.
When they can hear the sounds from the rebel caravan ahead, Matthias thinks they have made it just in time so they can prepare themselves, but then he sees movement in his peripheral vision and turns towards it.
Several figures clad in black and emerald green are riding parallel to them in the forest, some distance away and just barely visible. One of them even slows just a bit from the rest of his group and he is pulling out a bow from his saddle pack.
"Keep your eyes on the path!" Tino yells, apparently having noticed the same thing as Matthias. "Do not get distracted, do not look back!"
An arrow whistles past Matthias's yelps, kicking his horse harder in the side. The poor animal struggles to keep the pace, but it is apparently sensing his rider's urgency and pushes on, frothing around the mouth.
Then finally, they see people in the distance, their people.
"Ambush!" Tino and Matthias yell desperately at the top of their lungs.
"Ambush!"