Chapter 572: On Crooked Paths
On Crooked Paths
Before Martel and Eleanor could leave the next morning, they were intercepted by the legionary. "Prefects, Sir Avery bids you join her."
Eleanor glanced at Martel, who shrugged. "Very well."
They quickly traversed the outpost to reach the tent of its resident commander. Stepping inside, they found not only the mageknight, but also Wulfstan waiting for them.
"Prefects. Instead of your usual patrolling, I have a task for you. I will let the legate's liaison explain."
Wulfstan gestured towards the short, small table in the middle, upon which a map lay. "We have not been able to find any concentration of Khivans in the area for a while now. Not since we drove them out of this very outpost. They seem to have dispersed in small bands all across the woods. With plenty of food to hunt and forage, they are self-sufficient in every respect except one."
"Munition," Eleanor declared.
The spy nodded. "And more than that, the Khivan powder that fuels their weapons. They transport it in barrels on carts, meaning they are forced to follow certain trails through the forests. Destroying these supplies will significantly hamper their efforts in controlling this area. You may find your future patrols far more peaceful."
"Is it well guarded?" she asked.
"About twenty soldiers. Which is why sending a force of legionaries is useless. We'd have to send so many, they will be discovered far in advance. But two mages, guided by a scout, may actually have a chance of getting close enough to destroy the supplies," Wulfstan argued.
"Twenty soldiers is a lot, even for us. Especially if they got golden bullets," Martel said sceptically. While the element of surprise would help, they could easily get surrounded when fighting that many. It only took one shot at the right time to kill.
"Another reason I propose sending you," Wulfstan spoke. "After all, you don't have to defeat the entire armed escort. The Khivan powder is highly explosive. It just needs a touch of fire."
Martel finally understood why the spy had been so interested in learning about his capabilities, igniting the sail on the galley or destroying the barrels of the cannons. "You want me to ignite the barrels from afar, burn it all up."
Sir Avery gave him a discerning look. "Is this within your abilities, Sir Martel?"
The battlemage felt slighted that the spy had questioned him under what felt like false pretences. Yet he understood the significance of this mission. If the various Khivan bands in the area were denied their powder rations, they would not pose a threat to him and Eleanor or the other soldiers of the outpost. He looked at her, hoping she agreed with him. "We can try."
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***
They went to the quartermaster, picking up extra rations for the journey. It would take them at least two days even if they made haste, which Wulfstan had explained was necessary; based on what the scouts could guess, another supply train would happen within the next days. If they missed it, the next chance might not be for a month or two.
Their Tyrian guide awaited them by the gate. Martel knew her name to be Freydis, but little more. She did not speak much Asterian, and like most of the Tyrians, she seemed reserved at least without mead and music being shared. "Ready?" she spoke, seeing the two mages approach.
Martel nodded in acknowledgement, and they left the outpost.
***
It proved a different experience travelling with the scout compared to their regular patrols. Martel and Eleanor knew how to maintain vigilance, but they did not shy away from a fight if they met Khivans.
Freydis led them along trails that Martel would never have noticed on his own. At times, using the position of the sun as his guide, he noticed that they walked along an uneven direction. They might move east for an hour, turn sharply north for another two, and once more walk east. This had to extend their travel time rather than going in a straight line, but he assumed the scout had good reasons. He could not ask her, nor would he even if she spoke Asterian well enough to explain; they all knew to avoid sound as much as possible.
Martel did notice a lack of water on their route. No streams, ponds, or anything like that. He wondered if this accounted for their route; perhaps the Khivans preferred to stay near such sources, or their patrols just naturally followed such features in the terrain.
They walked until past nightfall, making Martel wonder how Freydis could even navigate in the dark. But she continued leading the way, setting the same rapid pace they had followed all day. It was at least an hour past sunset, if not two, before she halted and made a gesture for sleep.
Despite the lack of language, they arranged how to keep watch through the night. Eleanor and Martel made their runes of warning, which caught the attention of their scout. She still did not speak, maintaining her silence as much as possible, but she nodded eagerly and crossed her arms; Martel hoped that was a gesture meant to indicate approval. He simply nodded and sat down, taking first watch.
***
They woke early, before dawn. Martel could not tell how long he had slept, but it did not feel near enough. Though compared to when he and Eleanor had marched through the night to reach the outpost in time before the Khivan assault, Martel had been through worse. He did his best to shake off any feeling of being sluggish or dizzy, knowing he had to be alert. A few sips of cold water helped him feel more awake, and he slung his bag of provisions over his shoulder, ready for the day's journey.
They walked as the sun rose up the horizon, reaching its zenith, and continued afterwards until late in the afternoon when Freydis raised a hand to signal a stop. They were still in the forest, though the terrain was rugged, rolling up and down. For the last many miles, they had followed a depression in the landscape in between hills; now, their scout turned to ascend the slope on the right. The others followed, but near the top, Freydis lay down and crawled forward. They followed suit.
Once they could gaze over the top of the hill, they saw nothing other than more forest. Martel used his magic, but sensed only the expected woodland critters. Though at a second glance, he understood. In the distance, down the slope, the terrain was even. Here and there, bushes had been removed, or branches cut from a tree. A trail had been cut to allow movement for something bigger than humans. This was to be the site of their ambush.
Freydis looked at the mages next to her. "Khiva. Today. Tomorrow." It was time to wait and see if the enemy would spring their trap.
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