A Land Without Kings

Chapter 39: Hildebran

The two travellers ventured through a narrow passage between the foothills of Ulthrak and Weptswur. They stayed to the rural passage of the land, avoiding confrontation with the brutal tribes of Ulthrak. The air was so cold that it was difficult to breath. The two men could see large puffs of breath out in front of them as they panted through the tumultuous hike. The sky was a blue tint, as winter had spread its blanket of cold over the lands of Modena, and even the sun seemed sad as it hung in the sky, no longer able to provide its bright shine upon their backs.

Both men bore large fur skins on their backs thanks to Hildebran's mastery of hunting with his sword. He had snuck up upon a buffalo and gutted it as it grazed, a miracle that he was not seen or heard as he approached it. Hildebran and Terran had spent the entire day skinning the animal and fashioning a fur skin out of it. The meat was a welcome meal before hitting the road again. Cooked over a warm fire, the juices and flavor seemed to be better than anything they had ever tasted, as it was with most meat when travelling long distances. They had almost tamed a wild horse for which they would have been able to ride to their destination, but the horse had become spooked when Terran had withdrawn his skeletal hand to pet its mane.

Many days had passed now that they travelled through the outskirts of the Ulthrak border, and they finally had arrived upon disputable land between Weptswur and Ulthrak, where the foothills proved fateful to travel without the right warmth and food supply to ensure passage would be completed.

"There is a way through Weptswur that is void of villages and towns, it would be our best pass." Terran spoke the words as they trekked, Hildebran slightly falling behind.

"I was sure I had heard old tales of the wild free folk that haunt these foothills, do you know of such?"

"I have heard the tales, but I do not believe them. No one inhabits these foothills, I am positive. This was the way the great army of Fereton took when we marched on Mestrane."

"Why would you take this pass? Surely with an entire army you'd take the least rigorous passage, although you said you were only squire so I doubt you should know."

"You'd be surprised Ki'vatsu, a squire knows more about their King than his closest kin. A squire hears everything."

Hildebran supposed he had a point, but he was tired of hearing talk from Terran and having no option but to believe him. He himself had not ventured far outside Fereton in his time.

"Tell me, Terran the Slayer, who exactly was it that you had slain at the meadows of Mestrane? It is generally unspoken amongst my people, it is seen as a grim and dark tale that will draw the darkness if it is spoken of, hence I never heard the true tale as it were."

Terran thought about his response as he hiked up a boulder to avoid stepping through a brook than ran between two mountainous landforms on either side. Hildebran held his breath, hoping he had not spoken of something too grim for Terran to speak about. However, they had been travelling for hours on end and there was not much else that he could think to speak of. He could feel the uncomfortableness of the topic though, as Terran took his time picking out his next words. Hildebran stifled a scream of pain as his ankle twisted sharply under a slippery rock that was covered in slippery algae.

"You are bold to ask such. I have told you much already, but I dread speaking of the incident."

"No matter if you refute the topic, I imagine I would be the same If I had slain the one man who kept the realm safe from graver dangers."

That line stopped Terran in his tracks, Hildebran knew he had gone too far to provoke a response. Terran's eyes became intense, and Hildebran suddenly felt unsettled. Terran withdrew the long cloak sleeve from his arm revealing a skeletal arm that bore no skin or muscle. The sight drew Hildebran's chest tight and his breath became short.