With their path forward decided, they helped Gorza and G’mol sort through their supplies to ensure that they could safely arrive at Drol Kuggradh with their captives in tow. Once everything had been divided, they then helped the three orcs up onto their horses, where they remained bound at the wrist with the reins looped through their restraints. It was mid-afternoon when the groups were finally ready to go their separate ways. Gorza and G’mol headed east toward Drol Kuggradh—while the elves, Torlag, and Krujha would continue their northwestern route.
“Keep an eye out for my messengers,” Gorza said to the remaining two orcs, then turned to the elves. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to see your work done first hand. Hopefully, we’ll meet again in better circumstances.”
“Travel safely,” Galred replied.
With no further ceremony, Gorza and her group headed out, leaving the rest behind.
As they set back out on their original route, Alwyn couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved at her departure. She would have the most vested interest in keeping Zesh alive. Without her oversight,hismission would become much easier.
Chapter Six
Alwyn
The next few days were as uneventful as those before Gorza’s departure. With two members now gone, they had to pick up the slack, and minor duties were doled out to the other remaining pairs.
Though there were fewer mouths to feed, they had to divide their rations to aid Gorza’s travel, so Alwyn and Krujha’s daily foraging trips became more important than ever. They were given no further responsibilities, other than leaving the group earlier in the day and returning later to increase their chances of finding a windfall.
It was just as well. Alwyn didn’t like having his routine disrupted, as new as the routine might be; and the chatty orc was a better companion than the other orc—or worse, Fionia or one of the other elves.
Eventually, they would start running into more groups—roaming clans, hunting parties, maybe even rebels on their way to join up with Zesh’s force. It was unavoidable. So when Torlag pointed out what looked like a large traveling party in the distance one afternoon, Alwyn tried his best to ignore the alarmthat rose in his throat, telling himself that just because the first instance had gone poorly, didn’t mean others would follow suit.
But the memories of his captivity came rushing to the forefront of his mind all the same. More painful than the ropes digging into his wrists or even the blow to the back of his head was the lingering ghost of the medicine that had kept him asleep and helpless, keeping his magic—his greatest tool, the thing that made him who he was—completely out of his grasp. He could never let himself be so vulnerable again.
As their own party drew closer, Alwyn was relieved to see this group appeared entirely different from the three hunters they had encountered before. It was a larger group, which made him think it was a full clan at first, though the wagons they pulled with them were unlike those usually used by orcs. When they were close enough to make out individuals, it was obvious that this group was not native to the wildlands, either.
There were some orcs as well as elves—and strangest of all, humans in their midst, too. Their wagons were painted in bright, gaudy patterns, with words emblazoned across the side in a human dialect:Dorian Veras and the Freedom Troupe.Or something like that, though Alwyn didn’t recognize the name.
“What do you make of that?” Galred asked, a slight furrow between his brows, when it became obvious their paths would intersect. The question did not seem directed at any one of them in particular; but unsurprisingly, it was Krujha who answered, with a hint of a laugh in his voice that Alwyn had become accustomed to.
“I have no fucking clue. Anyone heard of this Dorian Veras?”
To Alwyn’s surprise, Daine spoke up. “I have. He’s a musician. A human. He’s performed in Aefraya a few times. I don’t know what theFreedom Troupeis, though.”
“A band of bards, then, perhaps?” Krujha suggested.
They were closer now, and Alwyn could see one figure split off from the rest, riding ahead to meet them. Tension rippled through their group, but so far, the troupe seemed harmless enough.
The orc that approached them had dark, neatly parted hair and a well-manicured goatee. He wore traveling clothes that were a bit worn and faded with time, but looked to have been finely made and once brightly colored.
“Well met!” he called as his horse trotted right up to their group, smiling widely—and evidently without an ounce of self-preservation, Alwyn thought. “We haven’t seen another soul out here in days. I’m T’kar, and behind me is the Freedom Troupe. If you’re headed in our direction, you’re welcome to travel with us.”
“Hello, T’Kar.” Krujha took the initiative, smiling right back. “I’m Krujha. What is the Freedom Troupe?”
Somehow, the orc’s grin widened even further. “Oh, you’re all in for a treat. We’re a group of musicians, celebrating the peace that has finally united us all. Our troupe has been traveling all over the wildlands, spreading the joy of music to every clan we come across. We’re heading toward Drol Kuggradh to take shelter there through the winter, then plan to cross through northern Aefraya and back into Autreth in the new year.”
Krujha’s smile remained, but Alwyn already found himself annoyed by the enthusiastic orc. They had no time for such frivolity—
“Well, we aren’t quite headed for Drol Kuggradh, but I think we can spare one evening,” Krujha said, turning toward Alwyn and the others. “Don’t you think so? A group like ours could use all the friendly faces we can get out here, wouldn’t you say?”
Alwyn wanted to protest, but he kept silent. Instead, he looked toward Galred, who would surely put an end to this nonsense. The older elf had been looking out toward the rest of the troupe,but now turned to Krujha, silently considering. The orc raised an eyebrow in turn, his smile becoming expectant, and the elf finally sighed.
“Yes, I think we can spare half a day’s travel in the name of... celebration,” he finally said, though his tone was far too stiff to sound convincing. Alwyn frowned, confused, but already Krujha and T’Kar had let out a cheer. They began conversing excitedly, and soon their whole group was following T’Kar back the way he had come, toward the wagons now waiting for them on the dirt road.
It was a motley crew of elves, orcs, and humans—all just as annoyingly chipper and happy to see them. The wagons were all painted garish hues of purple and yellow, as if they were trying to be spotted by anyone passing within a few miles of them. To spend even an hour with them seemed foolish.
“What is the point of this?” Alwyn muttered when he came up beside Galred. Their orderly line was dissolving now that they had caught up with the troupe. Galred glanced at him with a cool expression.
“A well-traveled, eclectic group like this has surely heard all sorts of stories and rumors. Some that might even be true,” he said simply. Alwyn scowled, letting Galred’s horse pull away from him.
