Chapter 3.1 (A Few Regrets)

Author's Notes: 1,935 words.  Please tell me if this is too long, k?

Eremia awoke to the sounds of morning birds chirping delightfully as she balanced precariously on the large limb of a tree, before falling off and landing on the ground by a pile of road apples. Her back ached, her head was sore, and she felt incredibly tired and hungry.

She guessed today was not going to be a good day.

Her experiences of the previous night caught up to her, and she was swept by wave of consternation and panic that consumed her. Taking a peek at her surroundings, she found herself by a small pond fed by an equally tiny creek, but a speck in an ever-rolling expanse of slight hills that pocketed the countryside, with an interlay of cultivated land and wild, yet simplistic grasslands. The trickling water was clean and clear, and she had the distinct desire to drink from it, until she saw the familiar figure of her brother, sleeping in contention in another tree branch. Then came the sensation of rage and the willingness to shove him off and throw him into the road apples.

"Hello, madam," came a weak voice from beside the pond, and it was then that Eremia looked to see a gaunt, pale, and frail-looking Yorew. The bags under his eyes seemed to indicate that he hadn't slept at all during the last night, and he rested against his horse, which was currently drinking from the pond. The girl had always seen him as strong, confident, and capable, and so this was, needless to say, horrifying. He propped himself up with a staff that he had always kept within a long scabbard, as though it was the only kind of weapon he thought he would use (which was likely the case), and hobbled next to her.

"Where in the world are we?" the girl demanded in her best threatening voice, pointing accusatorily at Yorew, and then at Jonah. The servant walked ungracefully past her and rapped his staff against the tree.

"By the southern border of Exedor," replied Yorew. There was a shuffling and a yawn from the tree, which was interrupted half way by Yorew's statement. After a lot of shuffling and scrabbling, Jonah fell from the tree with a satisfying thud.

"Wha-what?" spluttered Eremia, shooting her brother a nasty look as he righted himself and sat in the grass with a gleeful smile. "How did we travel that far in a night?"

"Exedor is not a big country, my dear," said Yorew contentedly, sitting down by the water while still clutching his staff. Jonah stood up and brushed the dirt off of his clothes in disgust. "And your father led armies and processions - those cannot travel as quickly as one horse and its riders. It was my duty to stay up all night, however, as it is impossible for a horse to enter full gallop for hours, and I had to see that it rested as frequently as I could have it. It was only an hour or two ago that we arrived here."

"And what happened to you?" she voiced in concern, walking over to, kneeling, and clasping Yorew's hand. "What did the guards my stupid brother enraged do to you?"

"Ah, they were no problem," replied the man, brushing aside her hand. "But, you both were badly injured - broken bones on both your accounts, I think, and a concussion. I had to see that you were healed, and you know how magic can tear at the strength of its wielder.

Eremia felt a hand on her shoulder, and whirled around to slap her brother in the face. He rubbed his cheek and frowned, but responded to the questions still in her mind. "It was my idea. Our home is in the south, and we're not far from Wyandanch and Eimhin. I thought that it would be easier to head to Eimhin, as Wyandanch and Exedor are both probably scrambling to find us by now. If we're smart, this can be our base of operations."

The livid girl made to punch her brother, but desisted. "This country is a madman's place," she reprimanded him with. "The King is cruel, merciless, and vicious, and is the leader of the Alliance! Even if we can avoid him and his soldiers, whom I've been told are among the best fighting forces on this planet, we still have to deal with his son and informants. How do you think you can survive here for longer than a day!?"

Before Jonah had a chance to answer, Yorew rose, placing the reins around a tree branch, and began to make his way away from the small creek and pool. Eremia rose and followed him hurriedly. It was not easy, due to his incredibly long strides, but she went after him, with Jonah casually stepping behind her. The girl had a question forming at the back of her mind, but she saw where his gaze fell upon.

In the distance, behind the tree, a collection of houses and stone buildings seemed to rise up from the surrounding countryside. Smoke filtered from the chimneys of some of the structures, and a gathering of townsfolk were rushing to and fro the area. If the girl stared hard enough, she could see the impression of market stalls in the midst of the households.

"I wished that we'd prepared our food more properly," mused Yorew. "Yet, we didn't have time, and so our supplies are presently an inedible mess. I do not think word has spread quickly enough for the citizens to suspect us of anything, so we should be fine. We'll find something to eat, as I'm sure you must be starving, return here, and make our way into Eimhin, so that we may keep distance from the oncoming army the King Renatus is sure to bring."

"And sister?" commented Jonah, placing his hand on Eremia's shoulder again, and then dodging the subsequent fist. Laughing, he continued. "Don't think you can run away from here and make your way back to the soldiers. Yorew is still strong enough to fight you, and we're close enough to Eimhin territory that you're bound to capture their attention. And did I mention you still don't know how to ride a horse well, and must head all the way back to a home you can't even find anymore?"

It was hard for her to avoid the urge to strangle him.

******

Unfortunately for them, people happened to be rather suspicious of a trio of rich-looking, but definitely beaten-up, group of individuals with the Exedor logo splayed across them. Eremia had once been told that this was the southern border with Eimhin, but this parcel of land had always belonged to Eimhin first and foremost. While the north adapted to its new nationality fairly quickly, this place did not, particularly when Eimhin claimed some of the southern land in a past war. It was no wonder that the King and Queen had troubled with deploying and using soldiers here.

Still, the vendors seemed rather cheerful to have someone buying from them, regardless of who the said buyer was. Eremia, who had draped a hood over her, walked alongside Yorew in the central courtyard of the town, with Jonah right behind them. The girl cast a few glances at the town's armory, and wondered what the militia in this area was like, as well as whether or not they were planning any kind of ambush or otherwise paying awfully close attention to them. However, the few soldiers scattered about seemed uncaring, although a few did stare at the trio with some level of confusion or suspicion, as did many passing citizens. Nevertheless, one butcher, graced in a bloodstained apron, at a corner of the marketplace was cordial enough, greeting the man and girl as they approached and asked for some of the wares.

"We'd have to get this cooked," mused the girl as she observed the collection of steaks scattered about the table. Not the most hygienic of wares, sure, but Eremia was starving, and happy to have what she could. And the food did look fantastic in her mind, if a bit too bloody and fresh for her liking.

"There's a baker a few steps a here," replied the butcher with a thick, heavy accent. It was completely unfamiliar to the girl, but it sounded like what she'd heard of the western voices. On the other hand, he looked a little less than sober, although the girl wasn't sure if his unshaven and battered appearance was leading her to that conclusion. The burly man certainly had a distinct tan and a rugged, worn appearance. "If you've got the money - and I'm guessing ya do - she'll be nice enough to cook it for ya."

"In that case," noted Yorew, pointing towards a particularly large one, "We'll take that fine specimen." He placed a few silver coins on the table, they with the typical Wyandanch symbol that was the currency of most of the area.

The butcher frowned a bit, but picked up the pieces and inspected them, nodding to himself before clenching the coins in his hand and opening a small box under the table to place them in. "Kid!" he called. "Hand me some of that wrapping paper."

A black-haired boy with overalls and a shirt appeared from the other end of the stall, setting down a heavy box as he opened another one and pulled out dull brown paper and some string. He handed it to the butcher while he returned to his duties, and the former wrapped up the selected piece of meat appropriately before handing it over to Yorew. "It's heavy," he said gruffly, and was immensely surprised to see the servant hold it up with ease.

"Wonderful!" said the girl cheerfully. "Thank you for the kind service!"

The butcher laughed and rubbed the back of his head. "You're a bit too flattering there, but fine, then. Good day to you, and the land graced by your presence!" That was definitely a western saying, Eremia noted, as she'd once known a man who'd visited her father's court for a few days and claimed to head from a blood land, whatever that meant, who'd said expressions like that. She was going to ask him a little about himself, for curiosity's sake. It wasn't every day she met a foreigner, particularly as she'd lived in what had been a fairly localized place her whole life.

Of course, nobody in the vicinity had any more time for ample conversation or frivolities about one's location and life, as there were the sounds of a scuffle emanating from somewhere in the marketplace. Eremia whirled around to see where her brother was, and, to her lack of surprise, he wasn't anywhere to be found. In the meantime, the butcher's eyes quickly shifted towards where the sounds of oncoming footsteps were, but what he saw was enough to destroy that gesture. He returned back to looking at his wares, acting completely ignorant as the duo rushed off towards where a small crowd of people was gathering.

Now they had to push aside the strangers as they approached the center of the commotion, earning them many angry and upset stares. Thankfully, it seemed as though the crowd was dispersing, although it was clear that was due to the wall of soldiers now surrounding an empty clearing, their spears pointed towards the onlookers. And, by a vendor who was now cowering beneath his stall of vegetables, was Jonah, struggling with some lady over a piece of cabbage. Eremia sighed. Typical.