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Authors: Jason Halstead
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wound on
its haunch. "Seems you can heal horses, too."
Alto and Karthor glanced at each other and
let his comment slide. Alto hurried to the horses and looked them
over, checking for other signs of injury. Sebas had a scratch along
one leg but other than that, they all seemed fine. "I think they'll
be all right," Alto ventured.
Tristam grunted and swung up into his saddle.
His stallion bore his weight without complaint. "Mount up. We can
be at the forest in less than an hour with the stars above. Douse
the torches, to be safe. Besides, we'll need them when we enter the
woods if we're to root out this hive."
"I think for wasps it's called a nest," Alto
corrected.
Tristam turned and stared at him. "Nest or
hive, I mean to make it a bonfire."
Feeling chastised, Alto nodded and climbed
onto Sebas's back. The rest of the Blades of Leander followed suit
and then followed Tristam as he led his horse to the west. The
leader waved at the farmhouse once and then let it fall behind
him.
Alto rode up next to him and stayed beside
the silent veteran for a few minutes. He surveyed the countryside
but had trouble making out any details beyond a few dozen feet. "Do
you really think James's right?"
"Which part? Us dying or his daughter being
killed?" Tristam replied.
Alto hesitated. "Us dying, I guess."
"Are you worried?"
"I'm not scared," Alto said without
pause.
Tristam smirked. "Bold words, my young
friend. Foolish, but bold. Without fear, you'll die a quick death.
It keeps us from trying that which we shouldn't."
"I'm not a fool," Alto defended. "I spoke
rashly, but I meant it. I'm not afraid. I recognize the danger and
yes, if there's as many as the villager says, it is dangerous, but
I'm at peace."
Tristam turned in his saddle and looked Alto
over for a long moment. "And you say you're not a fool? What sort
of a man rides into this without fear?"
Alto shrugged. "I don't know. I've seen
battle and I've been scared before. Now I know enough to fight and
I know some of my limits. But it's not me I'm thinking about."
"Who then, the damsel in distress? What's her
name, Rosalyn? You've not even met the girl, not to mention the
girl whose ribbon you still wear!"
Alto glanced down at Aleena's favor wrapped
around his wrist. He felt his cheeks heat at the memory of it. "I'm
not dreaming of the farmer's daughter," he muttered. Tristam
smirked again, stoking Alto's ire. "I'm not! I'm worried about
these people. They're simple folk, like my family. Life is hard
enough for them without disasters like this."
"Glad you left home?"
Alto frowned and then nodded as he thought it
over. "I am. If I hadn't, I'd be just like the farmer. Trapped and
not knowing enough to make a difference for my family or others.
But I'm not like him. I'm here and I can help them. Maybe someday
I'll settle down to a simple life, but it would be a waste to do so
now."
"Awful sure of yourself," Tristam teased. "Is
that what your father did, he lived a life of adventure and then
settled down when he met a serving maid that caught his fancy?"
Alto felt his cheeks heat again. "I don't
know, maybe," he admitted. "He has a sword and armor, the sword I
had when you first found me. He kept it when I left, too, told me I
had to earn my own blade."
Tristam nodded. "Wise enough, although some
men's idea of earning is different than others."
Alto fell into silence as he considered
Tristam's words. Thieves and bandits would take anything they could
get their hands on, whether it was coin, bread, or weapons. To
them, they'd earned it. For Alto, earning something meant having
the right to own it such that no one could deny him. He turned back
to Tristam to ask him about the kindness the warrior had shown to
the farmer when Tristam stiffened in his seat and then thrust his
arm out to silence the soft conversations behind them. He pointed
ahead.
Alto sat up in his saddle and saw the river
cut across the ground ahead of them after it came out of the hills
they'd ridden
its haunch. "Seems you can heal horses, too."
Alto and Karthor glanced at each other and
let his comment slide. Alto hurried to the horses and looked them
over, checking for other signs of injury. Sebas had a scratch along
one leg but other than that, they all seemed fine. "I think they'll
be all right," Alto ventured.
Tristam grunted and swung up into his saddle.
His stallion bore his weight without complaint. "Mount up. We can
be at the forest in less than an hour with the stars above. Douse
the torches, to be safe. Besides, we'll need them when we enter the
woods if we're to root out this hive."
"I think for wasps it's called a nest," Alto
corrected.
Tristam turned and stared at him. "Nest or
hive, I mean to make it a bonfire."
Feeling chastised, Alto nodded and climbed
onto Sebas's back. The rest of the Blades of Leander followed suit
and then followed Tristam as he led his horse to the west. The
leader waved at the farmhouse once and then let it fall behind
him.
Alto rode up next to him and stayed beside
the silent veteran for a few minutes. He surveyed the countryside
but had trouble making out any details beyond a few dozen feet. "Do
you really think James's right?"
"Which part? Us dying or his daughter being
killed?" Tristam replied.
Alto hesitated. "Us dying, I guess."
"Are you worried?"
"I'm not scared," Alto said without
pause.
Tristam smirked. "Bold words, my young
friend. Foolish, but bold. Without fear, you'll die a quick death.
It keeps us from trying that which we shouldn't."
"I'm not a fool," Alto defended. "I spoke
rashly, but I meant it. I'm not afraid. I recognize the danger and
yes, if there's as many as the villager says, it is dangerous, but
I'm at peace."
Tristam turned in his saddle and looked Alto
over for a long moment. "And you say you're not a fool? What sort
of a man rides into this without fear?"
Alto shrugged. "I don't know. I've seen
battle and I've been scared before. Now I know enough to fight and
I know some of my limits. But it's not me I'm thinking about."
"Who then, the damsel in distress? What's her
name, Rosalyn? You've not even met the girl, not to mention the
girl whose ribbon you still wear!"
Alto glanced down at Aleena's favor wrapped
around his wrist. He felt his cheeks heat at the memory of it. "I'm
not dreaming of the farmer's daughter," he muttered. Tristam
smirked again, stoking Alto's ire. "I'm not! I'm worried about
these people. They're simple folk, like my family. Life is hard
enough for them without disasters like this."
"Glad you left home?"
Alto frowned and then nodded as he thought it
over. "I am. If I hadn't, I'd be just like the farmer. Trapped and
not knowing enough to make a difference for my family or others.
But I'm not like him. I'm here and I can help them. Maybe someday
I'll settle down to a simple life, but it would be a waste to do so
now."
"Awful sure of yourself," Tristam teased. "Is
that what your father did, he lived a life of adventure and then
settled down when he met a serving maid that caught his fancy?"
Alto felt his cheeks heat again. "I don't
know, maybe," he admitted. "He has a sword and armor, the sword I
had when you first found me. He kept it when I left, too, told me I
had to earn my own blade."
Tristam nodded. "Wise enough, although some
men's idea of earning is different than others."
Alto fell into silence as he considered
Tristam's words. Thieves and bandits would take anything they could
get their hands on, whether it was coin, bread, or weapons. To
them, they'd earned it. For Alto, earning something meant having
the right to own it such that no one could deny him. He turned back
to Tristam to ask him about the kindness the warrior had shown to
the farmer when Tristam stiffened in his seat and then thrust his
arm out to silence the soft conversations behind them. He pointed
ahead.
Alto sat up in his saddle and saw the river
cut across the ground ahead of them after it came out of the hills
they'd ridden
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