The King with Six Friends

Autumn Glade

Autumn Glade was not actually a glade. Quite the opposite, really. It was built onto the cliff of a fjord isolated from most of the civilized world. It was named "Autumn Glade" to passively deter any unwanted travelers in the opposite direction. It was a simple diversion, but it did the job of keeping the villagers hidden.

Edge and Ingrid looked down from the crest of a hill above the torch-lit village. The waning moon was about to set behind the horizon. A handful of soldiers milled about on witching-hour guard duty. All were heavily armed.

The village of  longhouses sat dark and still. There was a stable, a few fields of dead, neglected crops, and a barn with chains on the doors.

Ingrid scanned the alleyways in between the longhouses. "There are soldiers here, so the people must still be alive."

"How are we going to rescue them?" Edge asked.

"I'm thinking," said Ingrid. "We could do a decoy strategy or just try to sneak in and take the soldiers by surprise." Her brow furrowed in concentration. "But they'd just come looking for us if we ran. We need to trap all the soldiers somewhere so they can't send for help."

"That's going to take a miracle," Edge grumbled, "There are ten outside, but there's bound to be more inside asleep."

"I know. I think we'll need some spare armor that looks just like theirs, a firecracker would be useful too . . ." Ingrid listed off more items they might need.

Edge suddenly noticed a pair of bright blue eyes peering at them from the darkness. He locked gaze with whomever- or whatever- it was. They were unsettlingly alert.

"Ing- Ingrid." He nudged Ingrid's arm. She glanced over to where he was looking.

A small figure darted out of the shadows and launched itself against Ingrid. Edge jumped back and grabbed for the hatchet on his belt. The momentum from the figure knocked Ingrid to the dirt. Edge raised his hatchet to strike, but stopped when he saw it was a child that had caught them off guard.

"Astryn! What are you doing out here?" Ingrid said with a shaky tone. Astryn clung to Ingrid around the neck. She couldn't have been more than eight years old. Her long, curly, brunette hair was littered with dirt and leaves. She had only a dress on and was barefoot.

"I escaped," Astryn bawled. "The soldiers locked us in our house and we could only eat what we had inside. We ran out of food days ago. Why didn't you come back, Ingrid?"

Ingrid sat up with Astryn cradled in her arms. "Don't cry, don't cry." Ingrid gestured with her head at Edge to get some food. "I'm back now, you don't have to cry."

Ingrid soothingly shushed her, untangling her hair with her three right fingers. Edge handed her some bread and a blanket. Ingrid bundled Astryn up tight and fed her the food. "You're safe now."

Astryn sniffled and chewed on the bread. She hiccuped from crying, but she seemed to calm down a little.

"Did anyone else get out?" Ingrid asked her.

"No, just me," said Astryn through a full mouth, "I turned into an owl."

Ingrid feigned surprise. "An owl? What kind?"

"I had spots and brown feathers. It felt. . . tickley." She described how she was able to squeeze through the small upper window of her home and fly off without the soldiers noticing. She had been sneaking small bits of food to some of the other houses that had run out.

Edge watched them as an outsider. Once she had her guard down, Ingrid was warm and gentle, in much contrast to how she was normally. While Astryn talked, Ingrid nodded and listened to everything she said.