*Weekly updates* "There are no leashes now, no bindings," she says, her voice a dark lullaby in the flickering candlelight, "and it is their sacrifice that gave us this. Nothing can ever repay it. No one can ever take it from us. So now, in this hal...
Pale moons rise over the treetops of Rikki Moorjin, casting a ghostly glow over the quiet caravan. All is silent, the fires quelled, the horses lulled back into calm, and the only sound outside of the breeze is the swish of their tails, flickering back and forth in the light.
Nine Cabal remain, hands bound together by leather up to the finger, ankles tied in ropes whose other ends remain knotted to the horde tied nearby. The Smith-caller closest to the steeds is a man called Jokul, the one who had offered the now-dead Iaves a cigarette on a cold, lonely night only a fortnight ago. Jokul is turning now, watching the horses, flexing his fingers against their tight binds.
The remaining nine Smith-callers are in a bit of a tight spot and Jokul is having some difficulty seeing a way out of it. It is only, he knows, by the grace of god that they are even still alive now, with all the others.
It's a pickle, Jokul knows, fingers flexing against their bindings once more. And it's a damned inconvenience too, because he really could use a cigarette right about now.
Maybe it's the wishful thinking for grass, or maybe there really is some kind of benevolent god out there who's decided to finally look out for him; whatever the providential origins, just as he is wishing, fidgeting with careful glances, luck at last finds Jokul tonight. It takes the shape in the sudden way the guard plants face-first into the dirt, keeled over like a ghost has struck him.
One of the others gasps, and Jokul has half a mind to tell him to shut it—because this could be the best thing that has happened to them today or the worst. His gaze meets with Mennit's in the moonlight and finds the man's eyes round like saucepans.
Maybe it was a fucking ghost, Jokul wonders.
But the true agent emerges from the shadows soon enough and Jokul still can't decide if it is luck or misfortune. In fact, he's just plain confused when the Nature-caller moves to them after bending down and checking the guard's pulse.
A flash of silver—the ropes at Jokul's hands, then his feet, fall away.
The golden-haired Solveig man pulls Jokul up to sit, glancing around the quiet campsite as he does. He's got a finger to his lips but Jokul has never needed to be told to shut up less. He readily follows when the man gestures to free the others.
Strangest night of my life, he thinks, chewing on an unlit cig as he frees Mennit and pulls Theron to his feet, because never in his life would he have bet on getting his skin saved by a Solveiger, much less a noble Solveiger asswipe at that.
Not much of an asswipe, he admits to himself somewhat grudgingly, watching as the man pulls up Prav and gestures for them to follow him further into the woods.
They get to a little alcove far enough out and the man turns back to them, barely visible in the shaded light.
"You have to get moving," he tells them, voice nothing but a whisper. "Here's the guard's sword and flagon—I can't give you anything else or they'll know for certain you were helped. Keep walking this way and you should hit the Halften border where you'll find some of your people."
Mennit takes the things and Prav, staring at the man like he's got two heads, murmurs a thanks.
"They'll send riders when they realize you've escaped," the man says. "Stay out of sight and don't get caught. If you do, I won't be able to save you again."
"No need to worry about that," Jokul tells him. "We know how to disappear."
The Nature-caller man looks at him, a beam of moonlight catching the green of his eyes, flashing them like a cat's.
"Do me a favor," he asks Jokul. "Find your leader, the one called Ben. Tell him about what happened tonight; tell him I sent you and that I said you need to get ready."
"For what?" Theron demands and the others shift nervously.
"Just tell Ben she's in Lethinor," Hiran Baulieu says. "Tell Ben she's coming."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A/N: Hiran... what are you up to?
And what is dear Ben going to think... curiouser and curiouser.
Chapter Notes: Jokul talked with Iaves in Progeny's "Another."
