Our Paths

Chapter 7: Departure

They didn't expect to stay the night as the staff prepared for their departure. Most of the servants fussed about their orders, and Jaskier was finally gifted a new set of clothes. The outfit was pink and red, with fine white highlighting the features it adorn.

With the snow piling on over night the wait was nearly extended if not for Matidous's furious outburst. The Count was quite cruel, throwing out the servant for even suggesting they postpone their departure. Not after threatening the poor sole.

After every one of the servants rushed to finish their work, afraid they may lose their job. Unlike everyone, Jaskier and Geralt were left to their devices, and given everything they could supply on such short notice.

By noon the following day, the small caravan was ready. With only two small wagons carrying supplies for travel, and a narrow chart for the Count. Jaskier waited impatiently to set out, already strumming on his lute but just humming along to the tune.

"Bard," the Count called out once they'd departed.

"Oh yes?"

"You a horse?"

"No, I've no need for one. Plus they are fairly expensive to maintain to my standards on such a fickle income," Jaskier told, trudging in the tracks following beside the chart. "Why?"

"How is it your witcher rides a fine mare, whilst you, a bard, walk in the ditches?" Matidous questioned, Geralt glared at the man who didn't so much as flinch. "Your wears will fade long before you a chance to replace them?"

"I suppose in some cases yes. But I've managed quite nicely," Jaskier told, ignoring Geralt's slow approach. "I prefer to keep up appearance so I'm one to take care of my wears, no matter the conditions. I've a reputation to uphold after all."

"You needn't walk this journey," Matidous stated, opening the chart door. "Come, sit. We've a long trek, no need to be slowed by your walking."

"I'm afraid I'll have to decline," Jaskier swallowed, no longer strumming his lute as he clutched it to his chest. "Can't be quick to take up offers without knowing the price."

"No price but my time, bard," Matidous growled. "If we are to arrive on schedule we'll have to press the steads. No man can keep up long with a mount."

"Your words are true, but-" Jaskier began only to be pulled up by one of the guards and saddled behind him. "Good heavens, warn a man before you go rough handling him."

"Your lack of pace is threatening our time, ride," the guard explained simply. His armour obscured most of his features, barely showing off his freshly trimmed dark hair, and typical brown eyes, "I will not bother you whilst you play. This horse is docile, you can be strange as you are without spooking her."

"Wonderful, and when she tires?" Jaskier insisted.

"Switch with another," the guard said, looking at the others.

"Finally, Barnes," Matidous grumbled, slamming his door. "Make haste now, we've no time for any more diddling. Move, I say."

At his stern command, the horses were forced to quicken, only Geralt kept his distance. Giving Roach the opportunity to warm up before catching up and matching stride for stride.

The sound of hooves filled the snowy lands as they continued southward. Eventually Jaskier took up his lute once more, singing along to the brisk pace of the horses. Grabbing the Matidous's attention, leaving a window open to hear more clearly.

As the hours dragged on, Jaskier was pasted from horse to horse, not once touching the ground under the watchful glare of the Count. Even Geralt had allowed them to ride together, only to abruptly stop the caravan.