To the Capital
The caravan moves forward slowly in the darkness. Most people are silent and exhausted after a long day searching through remains on the battlefield and collecting usable gear. Many are also dealing with the death of somebody close to them, but the need to get away from the site of slaughter before more soldiers show up pushes them to continue through the pain.
It is unnaturally silent compared to the previous day. There is no loud chatter or arguments, only the constant crunching of snow underneath tired feet and creaking of wagon-tires. They can even hear the wind rustling the naked branches of the woods and the occasional howl from a distant wolf.
Matthias is on horseback again, on one of the capital horses that survived the attack after having lost his horse in the attack. He rides alongside the caravan, making sure that everything is in order and calling out a few encouragements to the people that appears to be slowing down to keep them going for just a little while longer.
Torleif rides by a few times throughout the evening, checking to see how much more he can push his people before they have to make a stop. Each time Matthias sees him, the man looks even more haggard than the last.
They only stop for a long rest and sleep when they have travelled in the darkness for several hours, and most of them are ready to pass out from exhaustion. If there had been no fear of the cold, they would have just laid down on the first available spot on the ground, not bothering to set up shelters.
Matthias falls asleep as soon as his head hits the ground, tucked in close to his friends to stay warm.
The exhaustion is enough to keep the nightmares at bay until morning when he wakes to the sound of clanging pots and pans as somebody outside the shelter is making noise to force them all up and prepare for a new day.
Matthias takes the opportunity while everybody is busy with breakfast to talk to a few people. He expects most of them to turn him down flat and call him crazy when he tells them about his plan but is pleasantly surprised to find that he is wrong.
Not only are people willing to join him, but they are even eager to participate.
The ambush the day before has them scared, and they want to take the chance to turn the fight around and make an active approach and take control of the situation.
It turns out that his hardest sell was Berwald, and he apparently folded the Moment Tino was the one asking him to join instead of Matthias.
It is not long before Matthias even has to turn people down, several of them in fact. The rumor has spread like wildfire through the camp and there are many seeking him out, wanting to participate.
Matthias is sure that a big group of people travelling towards the capital will earn them too much suspicion, so he aims to keep the number down. He takes the time to talk to every single one of the volunteers, asking them about their skills and backgrounds and picking out those with talents he thinks will be most useful.
In addition to Berwald and Tino, he has picked out three more he believes can make it through the Capital gates as refugees, but still have the physique to handle the challenging journey and a fight should they face one.
When breakfast is over and people start packing again, Matthias seeks out Torleif to get his approval for the group he has put together, and his request is granted.
His first pick is an older farmer named Gorm, who looks like has seen far more winters than he really has. His hair and beard is streaked heavily with grey, but he is still strong as an ox and skilled with a blade after serving time as a soldier in his youth. The next one is a woman, a few years older than Matthias and named Vilje. She has a burn mark across the side of her face after the last battle and a wicked determination that matches her name. The last one is a trapper named Trym. He is known among most of the rebels as a loner who likes to spend weeks at the time alone out in the wilderness, as is a master at surviving in any kind of weather.
They take with them a few weapons each, but decide it is best to leave the higher quality ones behind for the others. If they are going to pretend that they are refugees searching for shelter or jobs, then the finer weapons will give them away immediately. The only weapons that commoners tend to keep around usually double as tools they can use in their daily lives. With iron being expensive and steel even more so, there are not many who can afford to own a sword. The most common weapons are axes, knives and bows, where the amount of expensive metals are minimal.
It is with regret and a heavy heart that Matthias abandons the finely made battle-axe he has used in every single battle and replaces it with a much smaller axe made for chopping wood. The edge is sharp after Berwald has taken care of it, but the balance is just slightly off and Matthias wows to practice with his new weapons in the evenings to get used to it.
Torleif gives him a sad smile as Matthias hands the battle-axe over, and wraps it up in a piece of cloth, promising to keep it safe until they meet again.
Berwald also leaves his finer sword in Torleif's care and replaces it with an old but sturdy blade. It is more a long hunting knife than a proper sword, but it will serve just fine in a fight. With the age showing on the weapon in the form of light rust and several dents and nicks, he can explain it off as a family heirloom.
Tino decides to keep his own longbow rather than switching it out. Seeing as his profession was a hunter, it should not be suspicious for him to bring such a weapon to the Capital as it is one he has owned and used for several years.
All of them also pack a bag of ragged clothing that they can change into before they come closer to the central towns and cities. Much like the fine weapons, a good supply of heavy winter clothes and blankets are well beyond what a meagre refugee might possess. It does mean they will have to hide their better clothes when they get closer to the capital, but at least the weather should be warmer that far south to where they might not need them as much.
They also decide to take horses along, one for each of them. It is the only way they will be capable of making good time to the Capital for spying and potential sabotage. To avoid crippling the rebel caravan any further they do take the oldest and weakest animals in the herd. If the horses do make it through the journey, then they can sell them in a town or let them go into the wilderness without too much of a bad conscience about wasting resources.
Matthias keeps glancing backwards as they ride off, just until the rebel army is both out of sight and earshot and the only thing surrounding them is forest. It is like a part of his mind wants to make sure the image of the others sticks in his brain so he can remember them on the journey south and in case he should not make it back.
Tino is quick to take up the lead with Trym, and the two seasoned hunters work together to scout ahead and find the best route for their small group to travel by. The other four stick together, riding one after another in a line to confuse potential enemy scouts with their numbers.
They ride for as long as they dare push their horses, and only then do they set up camp for the night.
Matthias is busy working on a shelter while the others stay gathered around a campfire discussing how to best roast a small hare that Tino shot earlier in the evening. It is frustrating work trying to set up a shelter among scattered small trees and bushes now that the densest forests are behind them, but it does give him time to think.
As the others argue amongst themselves, Berwald takes the opportunity to step away and seek out Matthias to talk in private. "I hope you know what you're doing," Berwald mutters quietly, carefully keeping his face angled away from the campfire so nobody can see him talk or read the words from his lips.
"So do I," Matthias whispers back, trying not to clench his teeth at Berwald's tone. He keeps himself busy with work, to avoid fidgeting while under close scrutiny.
"I only came with you because Tino believes in this plan and refused to listen to reason," Berwald states matter-of-factly, not in the slightest bothered by his own harsh tone.
Matthias can tell Berwald is about to say more but decides to interrupt him. "Let me guess," he replies sharply. "You believe the plan is rash, ill-planned and doomed to fail? You said as much the last time we talked; I don't need to hear it again. I'm just trying to come up with a plan that will cost us the least amount of lives along the way. If you have a better suggestion, then I'm happy to hear it."
With a snort of annoyance, Berwald leans in closer to hiss a reply. "Your solution is that we head into the capital dressed as poor commoners while hoping for the best. If they see through our rouse, then we're all dead. That is if we even make it to the gates. It is already likely they have shut the city down for outsiders. They might not want to share food and shelter with refugees, even if we offer to work for it. The city might be overflowing already" He pauses to let those words sink in. "I just don't see how the plan will work."
"Then we ask to join their army," Matthias counters. "Even if the city is full of refugees, they would be stupid to turn away people willing to join their forces. They have lost plenty of soldiers to the rebellion, I am sure they want to replenish their numbers, even if it is with civilians. They need to battle the growing number of rebels, keep other towns in check and defend the capital. No matter what, they need more soldiers."
Berwald narrows his eyes skeptically while he thinks for a moment. "You may have a point," he mutters eventually, but he still does not look convinced. "If they are desperate enough, they might be willing to take in just about anybody."
"That is what I'm hoping for," Matthias says quickly, plastering on a grin to fake confidence. "We'll still take this one step at a time. Let's just make it to the city first, then we can decide what our next move is. I'm not going to rush in before I know the situation."
Berwald remains silent, his mouth drawn into a tight line, still worried, but he chooses not to argue any further and they leave the subject at rest for now. They still have weeks more on the road to argue further about the plan.
When the next morning comes and the group begins packing, Matthias finds the perfect opportunity to snatch a handful of ashes from the long dead campfire without seeing him and asking questions. It feels weird to take Eir's words and wives tales serious enough that he packs a leather pouch of harmless looking ashes into his backpack, but he feels better having done it.
As they all saddle up on their old, sick or just purely lazy horses, Matthias realizes that the others are all holding back and looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to lead them forward into the day.
It does make his heart skip a few beats as the realization of his responsibilities finally settles in like a lead weight in his gut. They look to him for leadership because it is his plan, even though Trym and Gorm both have several years of life-experience beyond him, and the others have already proven to be head-strong people that like to act on their own. All because Torleif trusted him. He straightens his back and kicks his horse into a trot on the path leading south-east, feeling their eyes on his back as they fall in around him.
Tino rides with them for all of two minutes before he increases speed and bypasses them all. He gives them a happy grin, a wink and then he kicks his horse into a light gallop and disappears into the forest to scout ahead.
"At least he manages to keep in high spirits," Trym comments idly, trying to start up a comfortable conversation for the day.
"I'll be in high spirits once this damned snow stops," Gorm growls in response as he tucks the cloak in tighter around himself. "I'm freezing my junk off out here."
Vilje, as the only girl in the group laughs loudly. "We'll suffer no loss then," she retorts mockingly with a smirk as she tosses her hair over her shoulder and gives the old veteran a challenging look.
Matthias snickers quietly into his cloak at first, but seeing the shocked and insulted look on Gorm's, he cannot hold back his laughter any longer. Trym quickly joins in and throws a few snarky comments of his own in Gorm's direction, and even Berwald huffs out a few breaths of air that might be interpreted as laughter.
For a short while their worries lie forgotten as they ride on a little lighter at heart.
After a few days on the road, they crossed a rocky plain, hills and once again entered a dense forest where the road is marked by carvings on the trees and where the trees have been cut down to make it possible to pass through with carts. They have in large part followed the bigger roads to shorten the travel time and with just six of them, they are far more mobile and less suspicious than a company of several hundred.
They are nearing the end of the day when the forest eases up around them and opens into a flat, desolated plain that stretches out before them almost as far as the eye can see. Somewhere, far in the distance and barely visible with the clouds and snow, a mountain chain reaches for the skies. The wind picks up the instant they step out from the shelter of the trees and the snows whirls around them, sharp as tiny needles and everybody in the group has to wrap their scarves tightly around their faces to protect it from the assault.
Trym rides in closer to Matthias and he has to yell to be heard above the howling wind. "Those are the Windbreak- mountains," he shouts and waives his hand in direction of the distant mountains. "They stretch on for miles and miles in either direction, separating most of the northwestern part of the kingdom from the south. There is a trading pass where it is possible to cross the mountain, but this road is usually only travelled in the summer."
"Then why did you lead us here?" Gorm yells back before Matthias has the chance to say anything. "If this is only going to be a snow-covered hell-climb!"
"The other road will take us several days if not even a few weeks extra," Trym snaps back angrily, not pleased with having his directions questioned. "I discussed this with Tino, and we both agreed that we should at least check out the pass before considering the other way. It is still early enough in winter that it should be possible to make it across."
Matthias raises his arm to shield his eyes from the whirling snow as he squints across the plain. "With this weather it will be damned difficult to find the path to the pass once we reach the other side," he yells. "We can't see the roads under the snow and if there are any markers on the way across, the wind makes it impossible to see them."
"There I not going to be any shelter out there either," Berwald adds darkly. If we do decide on crossing, we're gonna have to make it all the way across in one go."
Matthias wants to curse, but he puts on a brave face as he faces a difficult choice. Trym, Gorm and Berwald all make valid points, and Matthias has his own doubts. He does not want to take the path around the mountains and lose potentially weeks, but they will not be crossing that plain tonight, that much he knows for sure. It will take several hours worth of travel to reach the mountains from here, and even longer with the current weather. "Lets, go back to the forest" he says firmly. "We'll set up camp for tonight, and once Tino returns from his scouting we can discuss whether or not this is the way we want to take."
"I'm not going to argue with that idea," Gorm says with a sigh of relief that disappears on the wind. "It is going to be nasty out there of that I'm sure. Completely exposed to the weather and no chance of rest. Gods be with us." He shudders visibly.
"Let's deal with that later," Matthias says quickly, wanting to stop the negative spiral before it goes too far, and people lose hope. "For now, let's build a proper fire and warm up while we can. Tino should be back before dark. A fire will help him find us and we can cook ourselves a proper meal." He dismounts and leads his horse into the shelter of the trees. Even though they are leafless they stand dense enough to block out the wind and it immediately feels warmer after having stood in the howling wind for a few minutes.
Berwald, Trym and Gorm go out in search of firewood while Vilje and Matthias take care of supper.
They are lucky that both Tino and Trym are excellent hunters and have set up snares that have caught at least one hare each night since they left the others. It is not a lot of meat to share between the six of them, but it increases the quality of their meal significantly since the rest of their supplies consist mostly of cabbages and onions that have seen better days.
Vilje wrinkles her nose in disgust as she cuts up a few pieces of vegetables. "I swear, if I wasn't so hungry, I would bury these damn onions and pretend I never set eyes on them to begin with!" She drops them into the pot of thin soup which is just beginning to simmer. She sniffs it and sighs. "I would also give a lot just for a few spices, even just salt, because that right there is depressive."
Matthias shrugs as he stirs the pot. He has seen meals far worse than the ones they are currently putting together. Last winter, the first without his mother and struggling to manage the farm on his own, he ate whatever he could get his hands on the keep hunger at bay for just a few hours. This meal in comparison to those is a luxury.
Vilje seems to catch notice of Matthias' expression and clearly regrets her words. Her voice is small when she speaks again. "I'm sorry. That seems terribly ungrateful of me. I know now that my family was lucky before this rebellion started. We were not rich by any means, but we got by, and I've never had to go hungry a day in my life before the soldiers came and took everything."
"You were lucky indeed then," Gorm grumbles as he dumps and armful of firewood on the ground besides Vilje. He has apparently caught on to their conversation as he walked up to them and took offence. "You are from Myre, are you not?" he asks and waits for her to nod in confirmation before he continues. "Then you've lived closer to the Capital than most of us. I on the other hand come from a village called Rorthside, and I've lived there all my life except for the time I served in the army. It is a small place, just on the very northern outskirts of the Kingdom where most choose not to go unless they have to. We had no idea that the taxes collected that far out were much higher than the more central towns had to pay. Most of us barely made it through winter and we lost dozens of people in the winter months, every year! We would have been better off living as outlaws." His face twists in anger as he recalls painful memories of his past.
Vilje looks down in the snow. "We never knew," she whispers, her voice thick with building sorrow and guilt. "We thought people were treated equally everywhere. It's not like traders and travelers come walking into town to discuss taxes."
"There is nothing to do about that now," Matthias interrupts before the conversation can turn into an argument. "We've all suffered under the King in one way or another and we're all in the same boat now. There is no use in discussing who had it worse."
It is Gorm's turn to look guilty, and he offers a quick apology to Vilje for snapping at her.
The sound of approaching hooves makes them all whirl around on instinct, reaching for their weapons in case of a sudden attack, but the rider greets them and they all sigh in relief as they realize it is Tino returning after a day of scouting.
Tino throws his hood back and jumps off his horse. His skin is flushed red from the cold and there is snow in the creases of his clothes that leads Matthias to believe he has ridden out on the plains at some point before returning to camp.
"You see anything out there," Berwald asks from the edge of their camp where he has piled up firewood with Trym.
"Nothing living," Tino replies loudly so everybody in camp can hear him. He leads his horse to the others and ties it up, then makes his way over to the fire where he crouches down to warm his hands over the flames.
Berwald and Trym join them, and the entire group is ready to listen to Tino's report.
"I've seen nothing in the forest all day and the plains are empty. Judging from how it looks out there, I don't think the pass has been used for weeks. I am pretty sure no soldiers in their right mind would cross the mountains here in winter. Those that attacked the company must have taken the long way around unless they have been wandering up northwest for a long time before they found us."
"Then we can assume that any new reinforcement that comes from the Capital to fight up here are taking the long way around," Gorm grumbles. "That makes the mountain pass the safest road if we want to avoid soldiers." He looks none too happy about the idea of crossing the plains with the howling wind only to cross a mountain once they reach the other side, but apparently that is the lesser evil in his eyes. "How long do you think it will take us to cross the plain?" He aims the question and Trym and Tino.
"In summer, on horses and with simple carts it would take hours," Trym replies. "Walking I would guess it's about a day's march across. In this weather, it will take us twice as long at the very least. If we march without stopping, we should be able to make it across after a full day and night, which is what I'd recommend we do. We're going to freeze to death if we try to rest before getting across. There's no way we're able to light a fire and set up a shelter out there without a major miracle."
"It is dangerous, but doable" Tino adds quickly.
"I for one would like to give the pass try," Matthias says carefully after about a minute of thinking it through. "It will give us a lot more time in the capital before our army arrives, because there is no way for Torleif to bring the caravan across the mountain in this weather. Though, if anybody has a different opinion, I'm willing to listen and this is the time to speak up."
"You know my vote," Trym grumbles. He gives Tino a look, expecting backup as the two of them decided together to lead the party this way to begin with. "I believe that this is the best way, and we should be able to find the markers of the pass once we reach the other side."
Tino looks a little hesitant to speak, maybe wanting to give sceptics a chance to speak up before they feel pressured to vote yes because so many have agreed to go, but he nods slowly. "I think we should take the pass. The weather should be much better on the other side of the mountain. They are called the Windbreaks because they protect the south from the harsh winds of the north. We could have warmer conditions, better hunting within two-three days rather than two-three weeks on dwindling resources." He goes quiet after that, diverting his eyes from the others.
Gorm still looks unhappy, but eventually he makes a grimace as he makes up his mind. "I'm not looking forward to crossing that plain the way it looks, but it should greatly reduce our chances of meeting soldiers on the way to the capital. The longer we can avoid them the better I say."
Vilje gives them a smile. "Then I say we go for it," she says brightly. "If we are too scared to cross a little mountain just because its cold and snowy, then we are not the right people to tackle the Capitol!"
The last one to speak his mind is Berwald and everybody turns to him expectantly. "I have no preference either way," he says. "So, since the rest of you agree, then the pass it is."
Matthias feels relief as the matter is settled. "Then we head out at first light tomorrow," he says.
"Good!" Trym replies sharply. "Once we have eaten dinner we should collect as much firewood as we can carry. We're going to need It on the other side of the plain and on our way across the mountains."
"We should probably leave a message behind here for Torleif," Tino adds. "Something simple he can understand without revealing too much in case the wrong people find it. We can tie a note into a cloth in one of the trees or we can carve it into a tree. Small chance our scouts will see it if they come this way, but then we at least give them a chance to know which way we've taken." He shrugs, probably not having high hopes in a message, but willing to go through the trouble.
"Sounds good to me," Matthias agrees. He looks around at the determined faces around the fire, and he feels good about his choice of companions for this journey. "Then the matter is settled, and I think it is time for dinner. The soup has certainly been on the heat long enough."
He gets a quick agreement from the group as they scatter to find their bowls from the packaging.
The food is simple, but warm and it brings up the mood significantly even though the wind seems to pick up around them, ready to make the night cold and unpleasant and whipping up whirls of snowflakes even through the trees. They eat in content silence, but once the meal is done, they prepare for the night, drawing lots on who should be on watch when.
They secure their shelter and tuck in close together to preserve heat. Berwald tosses a few more logs on the fire and Trym prepares himself to take the first watch.
Matthias ends up stuck with one of the middle-shifts, and Berwald is the one to wake him up with a grumble once it is his turn. Berwald in turn falls asleep quickly, his breathing drowning in the loud snores from Gorm and occasional grumble from Trym.
The darkness is heavy around him, only held at bay only by the soft glow of the embers of the campfire. He throws on another log to keep it going for a while longer as he settles down close to the fire for his watch. He tucks the cloak in tight around himself, staring into the night and listening closely for any sounds that should not be there.
He sits like that for almost an hour, where the only sounds he can hear come from the crackling fire, the creaking of snow as the horses move around and the occasional snores from one of his companions. Then, at some point he is sure he hears a whispering coming from the direction of the plains.
At first, he is absolutely sure that it is all in his imagination, but the voice continues for several minutes, and he is sure he can even recognize it, from weeks before in a dream.
For some reason the noise does not scare him, but he is not going to take any chances either. He stands up quietly and brings up a long from the fire which still has one end untouched by the flames, holding it up in front of himself as a torch as he stares out towards the direction he believes the sound comes from.
The whisper grows louder, and he swears he can hear his own name on the wind now. His skin breaks out in gooseflesh, and he is unable to fight back a shiver, and carefully he begins walking after the sound, stepping out from between the shelter of the trees where the wind immediately tears at his clothes, whipping his hair around his face.
He continues out further, keeping one hand on his axe just in case.
A glance behind, and he can see the campfire as a faint glow through the blowing snow and trees. When he looks back forward again, he notices a dark silhouette just a few steps ahead and he almost drops the torch in surprise.
There is a warning call for the others already on the tip of his tongue, but for some reason he finds himself silent and frozen in place against his better judgement.
The figure steps a little closer, into the glow of the torch and Matthias holds his breath.
The stranger only has a thin cloak to shield him from the elements, but the cold does not seem to bother him in the slightest whereas Matthias is shivering with his several layers of clothing and thick cloak. He reaches up with an ungloved hand to throw back the hood and reveals the face of none other than Lukas.
Some part of Matthias might have suspected it could be Lukas the moment he heard familiar whispers in the darkness, but he was afraid to believe it was real. Another part of him almost hoped it was a soldier out there, because then he would have known exactly how to react, with a weapon first and words later. With Lukas he is never sure if the smartest thing would be to kill him or trust him, and Matthias curses himself quietly when he cannot truly find it within himself to wish any harm to the creature now standing before him.
"Matthias." Lukas says gently, tilting his head in an almost curious matter as he looks Matthias over, his eyes glowing dangerously in the torchlight. "It has been a while."