Dreamscape: Saving Alex

Chapter Eighteen

The ground shook with the approach of Berkos' army. We froze, watching the shadows flicker as they crossed the wooden bridge above us. The rotten planks bowed under their weight. Rocks skittered between the planks, blanketing us in dirt. I held my breath.

The rumbles seemed to last forever. I closed my eyes and felt like the ground was shaking long after it had stopped. My body trembled. We stayed hidden, cramped behind the curtain of reeds until Arrow was certain the danger had passed.

"I don't like hiding," Boris grumbled, peeking through the long grass.

"We don't have a choice for now," Arrow said, kneeling beside him. "They're here, we're here, and we're not ready for a fight. I just hope we're not going to the same place."

"Do you think they could be heading to the Grove?" Boris asked.

"It's hard to say. We know they have some spies, but thankfully none that are within the camp. Berkos' men could simply be heading back to the castle," Arrow said.

"We can hope." Boris nodded.

"It may be our only hope," Cale grumbled, pulling cloves out of a small leather bag and stuffing the edge of his pipe. It hung limp in his mouth after a sharp look from Arrow warned him not to light it.

"Don't be so sure, Cale. Alex is back, and that means something." Arrow offered me a smile.

"You're right, I almost forgot. Men, let's show her what we do with our traitors." Cale grunted, grabbing the weapon at his side.

"Since she's not a traitor, but our hero, we don't need to worry about that," Arrow said, holding his arms out to calm the other men. "Why don't we all get some air? The army's passed, and we won't be leaving until this evening so we can guarantee safe passage. There's no need for us all to squish under here."

The men looked at each other and grinned. It was as if Arrow had given them a gift. But really, he'd given the gift to me: he might have just saved my life.

Boris was the first to step out of the confines of the bridge and stretch towards the sky. He nodded to Arrow for guidance. "What do we do now?"

"Whatever you want, my man," Arrow said, slapping him on the back. "Hunt, fish, play cards. Have at it; just be ready when I call...and stick close to the bridge. There's no guarantee that someone else won't be following them," he said. "Now go."

I watched as man after man filed out from the under the bridge, slapping Arrow on his back as they passed him. Whatever hope they had originally wanted to place in me found a better place on his shoulders.

Staying tucked into the shadows under the bridge, I watched Arrow systematically grab each man's bag, lining up the packs near the water's edge. He tested the straps, peeked inside to count supplies, and even wove long strips of waxed grass through any tears.

The more I watched, the more it seemed clear: he cared for these men. This was his team, and he took that responsibility seriously. I thought about the full bag that he'd given me that morning. He had felt the same for me. He had accepted me, even after I'd told him the truth.

My stomach turned over, a swarm of insecurities plaguing me. What had I ever done to deserve that trust? The reality was, up to this point, I hadn't deserved it. But that would change. That had to change. I'd made that decision when I climbed back down the mountain. Rejoining Arrow came with a commitment that I couldn't back out of now.

I leaned back against the edge of the bridge and watched the couple dozen men that had joined Arrow. It was an odd collection. Older men with just as many scars as wrinkles sat at the river's edge, sharpening the tips of their swords with rocks. Younger, more boisterous men took turns using a slingshot to knock down the birds circling above. And out of sight, but just on the other side of the bridge, Cale sat, smoking his pipe. Clove smoke swelled and wafted around the corner of the bridge. He was closer than I wanted him to be.