Chapter 560: The Straight Path
The Straight Path
To travel on horseback between Esmouth and the outpost, it was necessary to stick to the dirt road made by Henry months prior. Martel and Eleanor rode at a trot until darkness fell, and they decided to halt. Both paid extra attention to their runes of warning, trying to cover their small camp from every approach.
"Do you think the Khivans will beat us to it?" Martel asked, as the silence of the forest settled around them, broken by the occasional insect or the horses snorting.
"Impossible to say. We do not know how close they are to the outpost, nor how fast they might march through the forest. The fact we travel by road gives us an advantage, at least," Eleanor considered.
"I guess we'll have to turn back if they've already encircled the place," Martel mumbled. "Not much we can do on our own."
"Let us leave such speculations until they become relevant and make all haste until then," she suggested. "That in mind, you should sleep. I will take first watch."
Martel lay down, but it took a while before he could find rest. He had fought a number of skirmishes and participated in two assaults upon Khivan encampments, and he would have thought that he might be accustomed to it by now. But this felt like marching to a real battle, involving a thousand people or more on either side; mage or not, he would be just one out of many.
***
As dawn came, they both rose, despite only a few hours of sleep for either of them. Breaking camp was swiftly done, and Eleanor saddled two of the horses, letting them continue. Like yesterday, they rode at a trot, trying to make speed without exhausting their mounts beyond restitution. Aware that they travelled towards danger, Martel did his best to use his magical sense and discover any signs of heat around them.
Unfortunately, riding down a straight road allowed a clear line of sight across a long distance, and the Khivans noticed the Asterians first. Martel heard the muskets fire only moments before his horse stumbled with a terrible sound, throwing him from the saddle. He managed to react in time, activating his shield to protect himself as he struck the ground. Immediately, he rolled to the side, getting off the road and into cover.
"Hurt?" Eleanor's voice reached him.
No sense of pain anywhere, just the initial shock. Martel saw no sign of his armour or uniform being torn either. "No! You?"
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"No! We are on opposite sides!" she yelled. He could not see her; the dead horses on the road lay between them. "Provide cover?"
Martel summoned a wall of flames to stretch across the road, preventing visibility. He did not know how many marksmen lay in wait down the path, but he imagined at least three or four. Letting his sense of magic sweep out, he did not notice any signs of heat other than his wall and Eleanor, scrambling to cross the road and join him.
"How many?" she immediately asked, falling down beside him.
"Three or four down the road is my guess. I haven't sensed anybody on either side yet." They both knew that most likely, at least two Khivans would be outflanking them from both right and left until they got a clear line of sight and could shoot.
"I counted four shots in the initial ambush," Eleanor added. "With your spell, they will know we are mages. But with luck, they may not be equipped with gold."
"That's a risky assumption," Martel hissed. He knew that she would want to move ahead of him, assuming the danger.
"We will have to brave it. Ready?"
Nothing to do but nod; any moment now, the Khivans would find them and line up their shots. Eleanor got on her feet and began moving away from the road, deeper into the forest. Martel followed straight behind. Every moment, he feared the sound of a shot and seeing Eleanor fall to the ground right before his eyes. He could not shake feeling like a coward, which only served to distract him.
Eleanor discovered their enemy before him, even with his ability to sense heat. She rushed through the undergrowth, sword ready. The Khivans, taken by surprise, raised their muskets and shot with poor aim, both missing. Eleanor struck twice, felling them both. Looking over her shoulder, she found his gaze, and with silent looks and gestures exchanged, they continued towards their other enemies.
***
The other Khivans had fled, as it turned out, perhaps feeling ill-equipped to deal with mages. Or to fetch reinforcements, Martel considered with gloom, collecting his staff from the saddlebags. Two dead horses lay on the road; the others had bolted when the fight began.
"You think this means they have reached the outpost?" Martel asked. He rummaged around to pull out provisions and his water flask.
"If so, they would have been here in force to block the road. I think these were scouts sent in advance to watch for reinforcements. They probably figured we were couriers and took their shot at us," Eleanor considered. "Let us get away from the road. No point staying on it without horses." They stepped back into the forest. "But we must make haste to reach the outpost the Khivan regiment cannot be far behind their scouts."
"I wasn't thinking we should hang around and wait for those scouts to come back with friends," Martel remarked. There was a decent chance the Khivan marksmen would return with golden bullets in their muskets, now that they knew the location of two mages on their own. Soon, these forests could be swarming with enemies.
"More than that, we cannot allow ourselves rest. We will have to march through the night," Eleanor warned him. "Every moment counts if the Khivans have made it this far."
Martel made no protest, knowing she was right. A long day and an even longer night awaited them as they began, walking on the forest floor towards the outpost.
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