Alwyn’s heart stuttered. If she returned to Castle Aefraya, she would tell Tessarion what had happened in greater detail, and he could imagine how he might receive the news of an incomplete mission that was quickly trending toward failure. Alwyn thought the Mage Princeps would be just as likely to recall him from the field as he was to send back-up to see the mission through. Either way, it would mean he had failed to meet the expectations he had been entrusted with.
“I think that sounds like the best path forward for everyone’s interests, if you’re sure you’ll be alright alone,” Krujha said, pulling Alwyn from his thoughts. To his surprise, a slight smile crossed the girl’s lips.
“I won’t be alone,” she said, gesturing to the three other elves. Krujha laughed, some of his joviality returning.
“I suppose you’re right.”
“I would ask the same. Do you think you and Alwyn will be alright? An elf and an orc traveling alone might stick out more than a group of travelers.”
“I’m not worried. Right, Alwyn?” Krujha answered, grinning over at him. Heat rose in Alwyn’s face—it was only because he wasn’t expecting to be addressed directly, he told himself.
“Right,” he agreed, all too quickly. Hedidhave some concerns about being alone with Krujha in the wildlands. Ultimately, though, he really had no choice—hehadto get to Zesh. Having one ally was better than being alone, but even if he had to travel northward to find the other rebel camp entirely by himself, he would. He would accomplish his mission or die trying.
“Then it’s decided,” Fionia said brusquely, now addressing the group of elves. “We’ll need to move quickly. Can any of you hunt or forage?”
“You should stop at the Trisfiel estate,” Alwyn offered. “They’re right near the border. They helped us the—the last time I was out in the field.”
Fionia glanced at him, and he couldn’t identify if she was surprised or annoyed at the recommendation. “Noted. Hopefully, we can gather supplies while there.”
“I’ll see what we can spare,” Krujha said. “Alwyn, sort through the saddlebags while I tell Fionia what to look for on her journey.”
In the end, Fionia left with her horse, the three elves, most of the rations, two of the three tents, and a single blanket for each of them. The horse carried the supplies, and the elves would walk. None of them had an extra change of clothes, and one blanket would not be sufficient as winter drew nearer; but Fionia had her magic, and some of the elves had skill enough to keep themselves warm with a spell, too. It meant Alwyn and Krujha had very little for themselves, but their journey would be shorter—Drol Kuggradh was less than a week away on horseback.
It would be an arduous journey, both for them and for Fionia’s group, but there was no alternative. Teleporting four elves was beyond even Alwyn’s ability; he considered teleporting himself and Krujha to Drol Kuggradh, but even that would strain him significantly. Though he was hesitant to share the knowledge of long-distance elven teleportation with the orc, he could at leastget the two of them closer, which would be worth expending the effort if foraging proved less fruitful on this journey. A teleportation rune, like the one he had crafted for Commander Petkas, could help get them further, but would take so long to create they would probably arrive at their destination before he could finish it.
When they parted ways, Alwyn and Krujha watched the line of elves head south until they were just a distant cluster of bodies following a horse. He wondered how many would make it back to Aefraya in one piece. When he’d been in Fionia’s shoes, not so long ago, he’d had the help of the orc healer and Commander Petkas, who had taken the lead to ensure everyone was fed and warm and protected. Fionia was more than capable of taking care of herself; but the Order hadn’t exactly trained them in survival in the harsh climate of an orcish winter, much less on how to shepherd a group of civilians while doing so.
“Alwyn,” Krujha said quietly from beside him, shaking him from his thoughts. “We should get going.”
“Right,” Alwyn agreed faintly, turning to look out at the horizon one last time before nudging his horse into a careful trot. As they set out in the opposite direction, he slipped one hand into the pockets of his cloak and pulled out his enchanted parchment, hoping Tessarion had responded to him.
The space next to his last missive was blank. Alwyn sighed as he tucked the parchment away again. A lack of news was ominous, but all he could do was wait and see what his mentor deemed fit for him to know.
Maybe he had never noticed it before, since Krujha was usually leading the group while Alwyn trailed near the end of the line,but now that it was just the two of them, Alwyn realized the orc was often whistling or humming as they rode. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised. Elves sang to pass the time during long travel, and a nomadic people like the orcs must have many more ways to make the day grow shorter.
Somehow he felt a little less on-edge, too, though they were arguably in far more danger now than they had been before. But now he didn’t have to worry about how he was supposed to act with the others; or about Galred testing his abilities; or the elves judging him and reporting back to Tessarion. He could just be himself. It felt like they were on one of their foraging detours, but with the knowledge that there would be no larger group of elves and orcs waiting for them to return.
“What song is that?” Alwyn ventured as Krujha continued to hum. The orc glanced over at him, surprised.
“Just an old walking song,” he said, shrugging.
“Will you teach me?”
A grin curled around his tusks. “It’s all in orcish. Think you can manage that?”
“I could teach you an elvish walking song, too,” he said, feeling heat rising in his face. But Krujha’s smile only widened.
“Sure. Then we’ll be even,” he said.
Krujha led him through the verses of the song. Most of Alwyn’s orcish was very conversational, so the words were a little hard to follow; but it seemed to be a humorous song about a lone traveler tripping over various obstacles and bumbling their way home. The list of obstacles increased every verse, so what started as a single rock ended with the traveler tumbling over a cart, a horse, a cow, a trunk, an anvil, a length of rope, a snake, a tree branch, and a rock—plus a few other words Alwyn didn’t recognize. Krujha was laughing aloud as he sang, and Alwyn let himself chuckle along, feeling less self-conscious about his expression now that it was only the two of them.
Krujha’s gaze warmed when he saw Alwyn laugh. Heat bloomed in the pit of his stomach. His laugh died away, but Krujha’s soft expression remained.
“Do you know any funny songs like that?” he asked, still smiling. “Or are all elvish songs as serious and stoic as I’d imagine?”
Alwyn hummed, thinking. They were all rather stoic, or at least the ones he knew. The ones that approached anything even remotely humorous were more romantic in nature than anything else.
“They are all serious,” he finally said. Krujha laughed, clearly amused. “Do you still want to learn?”
