A ride Towards Harsh wisdom: Chapter three (2)

Stars be thanked, the brute heard him, and it’s momentary hesitation
gave Rohais the time she needed to pull Valette back, the Greatsword of
the D’orzerge family left lodged in the innards of their foe. The ogre
began to slowly turn around, staying on one knee as it slowly inclined
its head toward Rilleux, who was now facing him armed and ready.

Banging his sword against his shield, he stared the ogre directly in
the eyes, hoping they betrayed none of his inner fear. Luckily, his foe
took it for the display of strength Rilleux intended, and roared in
response. Without thinking, Rilleux found himself roaring back, more
than likely looking like a complete madman in front of his companions.

What was even more likely to seal that opinion in their minds was
what he did next. With his shield raised high, he ran straight towards
the ogre, who was now lifting both of its arms above its head, ready to
bring them down upon him.

In doing this, it had mad its last, and most fatal mistake. Picking
up his speed, Rilleux now dropped his shield, and gripped his sword with
both hands. As the ogre brought its arms down, Rilleux brought directly
before the ogre. As the realization dawned on its face, he stabbed
upwards into the foul beings throat, slashing from left to right as he
opened up its skin. Dark blood began to flow from the open wound, and
with a last whimper and a fading of light from its eyes, the ogre was
finally slain, Rilleux being forced to duck to one side as its body
slumped forward, crashing on the ground.

Rilleux looked up to see Franclerk standing by the paralysed ogre,
his dagger in hand. Stabbing at the base of its neck, he put the
creature out of its misery. Rilleux silently thanked the stars for all
the fortune that had led to Franclerk being in their group. If they had
had to fight two ogres at the same time, none of them may be alive.

Demlun was tugging his swords out of the ogres back, huffing in
strain and irritation about the indignity of it all. Valette would have
been doing something similar, but for Rohais pinning her down, lips upon
hers as tears flowed from her eyes. It took a whole two minutes before
the two separated, during which time the men had no idea where to look.
Again, Mer Papin emerged after the battle was done, and once
congratulations were doled out and rest was taken, the journey
continued.

The fourth day brought along the Arusha, or the Great bear in the
modern tongue. These bears were said to have existed in the land before
the first stars fell, and that the earliest peoples had nearly been
wiped out by their rampaging hunger. They were all at least twice the
size of an average bear, with claws to match, and a ferocity that made
Grukshex ogres look gentle. Mer Papin had picked up its trail almost
immediately after they had woken up and struck camp, and had told them
that it was likely heading into the denser areas of the forest, where
the trees where tightly packed together.

Taking on the bear on the ground would have been risky enough in an
open area, but in such tight quarters it was suicide. They almost
decided to give up on it there and then, but Demlun insisted they make a
try for it. Arusha pelts where worth their weight in gold, as only the
greatest hunters ever brought them out of the Txarral forests. Demlun
had promised at least six girls a bear pelt, and the gift of one from an
Arusha would earn him, in his words at least, “ a Fucking that would be
sung of for generations.”

With Demlun motivated entirely by his dick, the pilgrims were at an
impasse. With a grin, Mer Papin spoke up, telling them of how he
envisioned them catching this bear. All of them listened attentively, as
although they groaned at Demlun for his crude reasons for it, they all
desired the pelt of an Arusha for themselves. Bringing one back home
would certainly impress any of their parents, and would make a great
trophy for their personal collections.

So it was that they found themselves high in the trees, gingerly
clambering from branch to branch as they made their way to where the
great bear supposedly waited for them. They’d balked a little at Mer
Papin’s suggestion when they had first heard it, as none of them had
climbed trees since they were little children. Yet Mer had refreshed
them on the basics, and before long they were clambering up the large
trunks like Aidhame chimpanzees. Negotiating their way through the tick
upper branches was tricky, but Mer Papin was there to guide them along.

After around twenty minutes, they caught up to the bear. It was a
white Arusha, likely down form the northern edges of the forest and was
making its way through the trees slowly, the tight quarters making its
movement difficult. Rilleux saw Demlun’s eyes light up, and he couldn’t
blame him. The White coat of the bear seemed to shine, and it began to
make sense why some people believed the Arusha had mystical energy
within them.

At Mer Papin’s signal, Franclerk drew his bow, and took aim. Another
signal, and he fired, his arrow striking the bear in the side of its
thick neck. It let out a roar of agony, stopping in its track and
looking up, trying to find who had dared to strike it.

Mer Papin signalled again, and in unison the Pilgrims leapt from the
trees, weapons drawn and pointed down. As one, they landed on the bears
back, the beast bucking upon the impact. Those with blades stabbed where
they could, with Rilleux sinking his sword into the bears flank. Rohais
had found herself near its head, and she brought her mace down directly
onto its skull.

The bear roared again, and tried with all its might to shake its
attackers loose, but Rilleux and the others held on for dear life, and
stabbed and struck again and again. It was a brutal and fierce struggle,
but eventually the bear began to slow down, as its blood began to flow
freely down its coat. Another few blows, and it finally stopped moving,
slumping to the ground. As its great bulk crashed down, Demlun was
tossed onto the forest floor, landing flat on his back. He let out a
yelp, and Rilleux could not help but be amused.

The bear had taken a great many blows before it had finally been
slain, and it had bled a great deal. It had taken an hour for all of
them to collect pelts that weren’t stained with blood, with Demlun
taking some that were almost completely red. According to him, these
showed a mark of authenticity, which would make the girls that much more
impressed. It was odd to see how the Le-Sasbil heirs mind worked, but
they all simply shrugged their shoulders and let him get on with it.

So after all of this, they had come to fifth day, and the fight
against the Dreagonlings. These creatures were also supposed to be
ancient, and some scholars speculated that they were merely descendants
of larger monsters, who’d passed away with the first starfall. These
lizards stood upon their hind legs, at around half the height of an
average person. Their mouths were filled with razor sharp teeth, but
their forearms were small and hardly useful in combat.

This time, they’d allowed their enemies to ambush them, but on ground
that they chose. Mer Papin had informed them that the pack had caught
their trail, and if they were caught whilst on the road, it would be
trouble. Luckily, they had time before the Dreagonlings reached them,
and the old guide had led them to the old ruins were now they lounged
about. Here, they were able establish a strong defensive position, with
their backs to a high wall. From here, the lizards could only come at
them from one direction, and the pilgrims would be able to see them
approaching from quite a distance.

Thus the Dreagonlings charged, hungry for their prey. Once
Dreagonlings had picked up a scent, any semblance of rational thought
disappeared, replaced by nothing but ravenous hunger.

As they came at them with reckless fury, Franclerk began his work
with his bow, stringing and loosing arrow after arrow with even greater
speed than he’d shown before. After a minute, the numbers of the
Dreagonlings had been cut from twenty to fifteen, but their charge did
not waver, and they reached the pilgrims, jaws snapping in anticipation.

This fight had been frenetic, bloody, and relatively quick. Their
position had been well chosen, and by sticking close together, they were
able to form a solid line of defence, swinging and slashing at their
foes as they came. Still, the numbers were against them, and it took all
their efforts not to be overwhelmed.

Even so, Rilleux could not help but be aware that Valette was not
fighting as she usually did. Normally , her movements were more refined,
her years of training clearly showing in precise, rehearsed swings of
her greatsword. Here, there was wildness to her strikes, a kind of
reckless abandon as she faced her foes, and her face betrayed the rage
she was letting out as she took heads. This had resulted in her claiming
the most kills in this skirmish, but in the course of her rampage,
she’d taken the cut to the arm which had required stiches from Rohais.

Demlun had made a snide comment or two, and Franclerk had tried to
lecture her on discipline in battle, but Rilleux knew to keep his mouth
shut. This was due to the fact that he had a fairly good idea as to why
Valette had acted the way she had, and it had everything to do with him
being on watch at a certain time the night before.

If there had been one particular contributing factor to the
collective tension within the group, it was the difficulty in getting
any kind of decent sleep. They would ride for as long as they and their
horses could physically manage, before dismounting and tossing their
blankets down in any area that looked feasible to lie down in. after a
quick meal, their came the issue of who would take first watch of the
night.

This was the only part of their journey where Mer Papin was entirely
useless, falling asleep the moment they had eaten. He’d explained this
away on the second morning with some stories about being an old man, who
needed his sleep far more than them. It was a crock of lies of course,
but the pilgrims had been willing to begrudge him this one defect as an
otherwise brilliant guide.

So it fell to them to take turns watching for danger, all agreeing to
a period of an hour or so a night for each of them. When their turn was
done, they were to wake up whomever it was who’s shift was next, with
Valette often choosing to kick Demlun in the ribs when his turn followed
hers. It had worked out so far, with no attacks at night, and Rilleux
wandered if there was some kind of unnatural good fortune that kept them
safe. Not that he would ungrateful if that was the case, but it would
make losing precious sleep every night a pointless exercise.

On the fourth night, something did happen during his shift on watch,
but it was nothing to do with any outside threat to the pilgrims. As
Rilleux looked out towards the trees, straining his tired eyes for
movement, he heard voices coming from the direction of where the others
slept. He could tell right away that it was some kind of argument, and
for a moment his chest tightened in fear, as someone or something must
have snuck around him and attacked the others.

Yet upon listening closer, he could tell who exactly these voices
belonged too, and that attack was not the concern here. It was Valette
and Rohais, and it was obviously not a discussion that Rilleux should
have overheard.

“ Valette, I don’t understand, what have I done?”

“ Nothing, it’s not you, just leave me alone!”

“ We don’t have to do anything tonight, but something’s clearly wrong. You know you can talk to me, please don’t shut me out!”

Rohais voice was desperate, pleading, and Rilleux could not help but
feel incredible sorrow for her. This sorrow was quickly replaced by
anger at what Valette said next.

“ Stars above, do you need to always be at my heels like some bloody
puppy? Every day with that look on your face, its, its,……arrrrgh!

There was a stomping of feet as Valette stormed off, and in the same
instant Rilleux could hear the sobs begin. Rohais was obviously trying
to keep quiet, but it was to no avail.

Rilleux felt impotent for being able to do nothing but sit there, but
he knew that if he went over to Rohais, she’d know that he’d been
listening. Besides, Valette could come back, and take any efforts made
by Rilleux to comfort her the wrong way. Besides, he wouldn’t have the
first clue about what to say, and he’d probably make the situation much
worse.

Still, what he’d heard deeply unsettled him, and he could only
imagine how terrible the two lovers felt right now. He’d never imagined
that Valette could say such things to Rohais, which obviously meant this
was no trivial squabble. He brooded on this for at least another hour,
before he eventually decided he could take no more, and roused Franclerk
for his turn on watch.

The following day had been a constant attempt to avoid eye contact
with either Valette or Rohais, lest Rilleux look betray his overhearing
their conversation. The two still rode side by side of course, but did
not exchange a word. They barely said anything to the others either,
with Valette even forgetting to swear at Demlun for once. Of course,
neither Franclerk or Demlun had the faintest idea what was going on, and
were too absorbed in the business of staying alive to think too deeply
on it.

But when Rohais was devotedly stitching Valette’s wounds, in spite of
all that had happened the previous night, it was clear how deep her
feelings were for the daughter of the D’orzerge family. It wasn’t hard
to feel a little jealous of such devoted love, and Rilleux was reminded
of a painful memory, long thought buried. As he looked up to the sky,
his mind drifted to thoughts of home, of an autumn night when the rain
hammered against the barn door, when nothing else mattered but-