First Camp

Bruised feelings are quickly forgotten by Collywaddle as her concern gradually turns to her sore green feet instead. To her credit she makes it through most of the day without a gripe but as we pass over yet another rise to see yet another wild mountain valley she at last has to make her displeasure known.

“Aren’t we there yet?” She groans, still close to my side.

“We’re not even a day in.” I quip and pat the head of my wilting goblin. In my other hand I jangled her overstuffed pack that I had already taken from her to lighten her load. “Good thing you didn’t bring along that table, huh?”

Rosa, rocking along atop our load, gives Colly a sympathetic smile. “Quin. She’s saying she needs a rest. Colly was a house ****, she’s not used to travel. Remember our trip from Rome? Remember how quickly I tired? We’re not all as strong as you, my boy.”

I peer ahead at Cassie. “You still good?”

“I’m good.” She gives me a thumbs up. Though her tanned skin shone with a sheen of sweat her strides were still sure. She then glances back at me to shoot me a wink. “As if I’d let a farm boy outlast me.” With a laugh and a slap of her hot ass she picks up the pace. “Try and keep up, if you can.”

I grin and click my tongue.

“Uh, boy.” Colly rolls her eyes. “They’re at it again. Be thuckin and fuckin before you know it.”

“Let them play.” Rosa giggles.

Looking to Cat the dog-horse I ask. “You still good?” After an unamused equine snort I quip. “Okay, okay! I was just asking.” I pat the firm muscles of his neck. “I won’t ask you to carry anymore.” With a breath I say. “Well…I knew it was going to happen sooner or later. Seem Fortuna is determined to have me carrying sexy ladies along Roman roads.”

“It does seem to be your lot, my love.” Rosa laughs.

“I’m getting the Rotha treatment? Ooooo!”

“Don’t get used to it. Come on, Colly. Up you go.” I grab her hand and she grabs back with both of hers. With a heave I hoist her up. Like a chubby green monkey Colly scrambles up my body. I grunt as she settles, clinging spider-like, to the right side of my pack and throwing my balance completely off. “Gah!”

“Woah!” Colly hoots as she scrambles around to the other side of my pack to make me reel the other way and right into the side of Catalus who shoves back twice as hard. “Ha ha ha!” At last Colly centers her weight atop my pack and I’m able to carry on in a straight line again. “Ith he alwayth thith fun to ride?”

Rosa chuckles. “Some of my favorite memories are from right where you are now, Collywaddle.”

“Those memories weren’t so…heavy!” I grunt while trying to adjust on the fly.

“Hey!” Colly bops my head. “It’th not nithe to mention a lady’th weight.”

Without a word Cassie had slowed a step so we could catch up. As I near she takes Collywaddle’s pack to ease my load. I flash her a thankful smile and she nods back. For all her sass Cassie, born and raised a good farmer’s daughter, believed that her man’s burdens was hers to carry and vice versa. As our eyes stay locked for an extra second sparks fly. With our Lady’s permission, or possibly with her direction, we both knew that we’d be testing the craftsmanship of one of our new bedrolls this very night.

Though her perch atop my pack couldn’t have been very comfortable Colly is content to be off of her feet. As I walk her stubby green fingers play with my hair.

After another hour we are approaching the next rise. To the west the sky was growing amber and the air around us was quickly cooling in the mountain’s shadow. Rosa had already pulled out her heavy shawl and wrapped it around her. In the shelter of the next valley, safely out of site of bandits or worse, we would make our camp for the night. From the distance a shrill cry is carried on the wind, drifting over the rise ahead.

Cassie’s gait falters a step. Her face snaps toward me. “Fox? Danae?”

“A bit early for a vixen’s cry.”

“That wasn’t little sister.” Rosa says, her tapered ears perked up to catch the sound. “She’s behind us.”

We stop a moment and listen but hear nothing but the juniper scented breeze.

“Probably a wild fox or…wolf.” I say. “Stay alert.” I pull the big, squishy ball of Colly down off of my shoulders and back onto her feet. “Break is over.”

“Yeth, Thir.” She says, taking her pack back from Cassie without protest.

Her hands now free Cassie unshoulders her bow to carry it in her hands, her eyes scanning as we continue. Close at Catalus’ side my hand rests on the handle of my sword. Out of the corner of my eye I catch Rosa nervously twirling her magical bracelet around her slender wrist.

We carry on, cautious at first but relaxing again with each quiet step. Tired from a long day’s travel our guard is soon down again as our attentions turn to looking for a place to bed down for the night.

In the dim of the valley’s deep-shaded evening I catch sight of a post ahead just this side of a bridge. At a glance I could see it was an official marker put there by our ever helpful and officious Empire, likely marking a rest area as we were close to the midway point between Grumentum and Paestum. A moment later I spot the ass end of a hand cart just sticking out from a path that lead off from the main road. Someone was already camping here. For a moment a worry niggles my heart about staying in camp with others, others that might make note of my horned ****’s flight from Grumentum, but I settle myself with a reminder that we weren’t being hunted for. Not that I knew of. Although…how sturdy was that magic Rosa had turned back on Lydia? Would the wizard’s memory remain scoured or would it heal in time? Such things were beyond my knowledge but I had faith we had time on our side.

I nod, pointing out the post. “There.”

“Ohhhh, I can’t wait to get off my feet.” Colly says, quickening her pace.

“Hold on, Colly.” I say. “Stay with Cat and look after Rosa. Cassie and I will check it out.” Our steed was none too pleased to have his reins held by a creature he could step on but he holds true. I help Rosa down from the load and bring her hand to her knotted rope. “Just in case…” She nods, understanding my caution.

My eyes linger a moment on the massive, wicked blade packed among our belongings. No. That would attract far too much attention. And wielding such a blade unsheathed could only be read as a threat. It’s just a campsite. They’re probably just merchants. I turn and join Cassie. Together we move, our strides swift and silent.

The closer we get the slower and softer become or steps. The handcart…it was parked at an odd angle, facing into a mass of thorny bushes. There is no smell of smoke. No aroma of cooking food. No sounds of talking or moving above the trickling mountain stream. There wasn’t even hushed murmurs of slumber. Cassie and I glance to each other then back out to scan our the surrounding rocks and foliage.

As we round the corner from the road onto the path we smell it before we see it. Blood! Enough of it to carry it on the breeze and fresh enough to still be laced with that telltale metallic tinge. Before was a camp. A camp ruined. A toppled tent, it’s canvas torn asunder, and the scattered remnants of a frantic chaos before the still. The earth and gear was stained dark with blood splattered and smeared, two great pools of the still drying liquid lay close together. And among all the wreckage…feathers. Great, oily, black feathers. A new smell reaches my nose…pungent and foul and soaked heavy in terrified memories.

I had seen feathers like that before!