Dusk Over Arcath

Chapter 13

Aster swayed in his horse's saddle. His mind drifted aimlessly like the horse under his legs. The oppressive dimness around them blanketed his mind just as his cloak blanketed his body, though a gentle shiver persisted. The sight in front of him was of too little consequence for his eyes to continue their strain to see.

Along the column he heard men grunting and murmuring in hushed tones. Blinking, he glanced back at them. At his look those closest sealed their lips, giving him looks darker than the black draperies of the lightless wood. 

"Pay them no mind," Endel grunted from the horse in front of him. The captain was indistinguishable under a billowing cloak and fur that hid his bulk. "They're afraid is all." 

The dullness of the dark and weariness of the ride slowed Aster's response. He blinked again, taking inventory of the woods that coiled around them in the narrow path they precariously followed. 

"I am too," he murmured. His lips felt numb as they fumbled over the words. 

The monotony of the dark was a greater destroyer of moral than he could possibly have expected. No vicious monsters had plagued their first night or their second day or their second night. Breath pent up in expectation of danger left the company dizzy. They rode in silence, in the dark, beneath the thick haze of the musty forest. Torches lit the area around the column, but their scarcity almost made the dark more unbearable. Floating swaths of light traveled around the riders with the torches but rarely ever touched the rest of the column. They rode in dark silence broken only by the occasional complaint.

Only two days, he whispered silently. It's only been two days. Somewhere in his heart he knew it was true but his mind screamed it was a lie. An eternity separates us from the Thorn Elm. His hands pulled his cloak tighter of their own accord, though he could not say what they hoped to gain from it. 

"Don't be a fool," Endel answered. "There's nothing to be afraid of." His words were sharp as ever but his tone had dulled. 

Two horses ahead, Aster saw Narenhior turn round on his white horse. The elf was yet to remove his armor, as was the entirety of his company. The long silver strands of his hair flourished against the dark of his plate, though the beauty was lost in the death in his eyes. 

"Perhaps the boy is right. You confessed yourself you do not know our course, despite the leader of your company. That alone is reason to be afraid." 

Fear was the last emotion that could be imagined from Narenhior's tone. Instead was suspicion coupled with a myriad of others - possibly containing amusement. Ever since the rangers had failed to come across the next expected landmark - a ruined wall called Teip's Forge - Narnehior rode with growing distrust. When one of the elves had drawn blades with one of the huntsmen Endel had reluctantly agreed to let the prince ride beside them, along with several of his company. 

"When a hunter tells me he does not know his own grounds," the moonwalker continued, "I am inclined to think him either a fool or a liar. I wish to think neither."

"Think whatever you graven-well please. We're riding north, that much I know. The scouting party will return soon enough and we'll know our course." 

Aster almost imagined Narenhior's crystal eyes rolling. it struck him, though, that the elf would likely do no such thing. Instead it felt like his lips were drawing in a tight line.

Nearly on cue, the moonwalker bowed his head from two horses ahead. "As you say." 

Endel grunted something under his breath. Probably a curse, Aster mused. 'As you say' had become a frequent phrase from the elf. The huntsmen on the column had quickly adopted it a humoring gesture, much to Endel's frustration.