On the march

Birds flew up like black clouds, covering the sun momentarily and leaving them in their shadow. They marched on. It had been slow going, through mud and bogs, with treacherous holes hidden in the overgrowth. Yet Cormac’s legion pressed on determined, their mission had been made clear, they had been instructed; ‘make haste’.

For three days now they had been traveling towards the city of King’s Bridge, the tall white towers and high walls of cut stones could ever be seen in the smokey distance. Yet as they walked, it only ever seemed to be going farther away. King’s Bridge lay right on the dividing line of the Western and Eastern territories, it was the only city that had easy access across the river from west to east. Whoever controlled the city, might also control the tide of the war.

With his shoulders slouched and chin pointed upwards towards the sun, Lucan marched. Behind him the wheels of an old little wagon squeaked as he pulled it along with his bare hands. It was the kind of wagon a horse was supposed to be tethered to, but when Lucan had found it abandoned beside the road on their march, he hadn’t found the horse that belonged to it. Cormac had barked at him that he could not spare him a single horse and also questioned him why Lucan felt he needed the damned wagon. It was simple, Lucan thought, Althaea’s feet hurt. Her legs were only short, especially compared to his and flying, which she had revealed she was indeed capable of, took too much energy and seemed more like floating to him.

So Lucan pulled the wagon, in which Althaea sat back, amongst some ingredients, herbs and flowers she had found along the way. Sometimes Lucan could hear her muttering words he did not understand, a few times a flash or loud crack had startled him, almost making him drop the wagon. But Althaea assured him that all was safe and well. The rest of the army was slowly warming up to the fact that a witch was living amongst them, though Lucan had spotted a few of the men performing nonsensical rituals, which they said would keep them safe from magic. A few nights ago Lucan had been assigned guard duty during the evening, when the army had set up camp. Normally two men would be stationed together, but Lucan was left alone at the perimeter of the camp. Cormac reasoned that he counted for three at least. In the dark Lucan had heard strange rustling in the bushes, had spotted glowing eyes staring at him, disappearing each time they blinked. He thought he had heard voices, speaking in tongues, similar to the language Althaea sometimes spoke. He hadn’t liked being left alone. When, at the end of his shift, he had found Conn, who seemed to be avoiding him as of late, he had told him that wild animals had been the ones to make the ruckus. Lucan wasn’t so sure.

“Watch yourself, there’s a dip in the road coming up.” Lucan looked over his shoulder at Althaea, who had an arm folded behind her head and her eyes closed. The light shining down on her mossy green skin reminded him of how soft she felt underneath his fingertips.

Althaea opened an eye, a small smile on her lips, “Thank you darling” she spoke in her sultry voice. For whatever reason Lucan felt himself beginning to blush. He had a reputation amongst the Western Army as a hard man and a fierce soldier, but whenever he was around Althaea that persona seemed to fade slowly away. Lucan carefully navigated the wheels of the wagon around the dip in the road, pulling it along with him as he sped up, making sure to stay amongst the rest of the legion. He had seen a few jealous glances shot towards Althaea, who slumbered most of the day away in the wagon. Whenever he tried to tell of some soldier, who felt he deserved the rest she was getting far more than her, Althaea always seemed to be one step ahead of him. With her dark eyes she’d peer at them and start murmuring under her breath. Like the devil the soldiers would hurry away, too afraid to be turned into stone, or a frog. It always gave Althaea a good laugh.

Fast footed scouts were beginning to appear amongst the ranks, running back and forth to the captains and commanders of the legion, relaying messages. Lucan spotted one and decided to hail him. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Slightly out of breath the youth stopped in his tracks, looking up at him with wide eyes. Lucan sometimes forgot what an imposing person he was, the boy was clearly a little scared of him. “C-camp, sir, we’re makin’ camp soon.” Lucan nodded, letting the youth continue on his way. Though he wasn’t likely to ever admit it, his arms were beginning to get sore from dragging the wagon around, Lucan was glad that soon he could again sit besides Althaea at a camp fire and maybe even lay down next to her in his tent.