Ellyesce, as Jahrra predicted, was pleasantly surprised when the trio returned with enough fish to feed a small army.
When Jahrra relayed the tale, with Jaax nodding his support of its truth, the elf slapped his knee and huffed out a laugh.
“Who would have thought that you would be such a boon to us, Mr. Dervit? I say this definitely calls for a celebration. Over a game or two of Astral cards.”
The three of them quickly cleaned and prepared the fish to roast over the fire while Jaax stood guard, all of his senses scanning the area for trouble. While the trout roasted, Jahrra and Ellyesce patiently explained the rules of Astral cards to Dervit. He didn’t know nearly as many of the constellations as Jahrra did, but he expressed his eagerness at learning the game. By the time the fish were ready to eat, he had puzzled out the value of his hand compared to the others, almost entirely on his own.
They woke early again the next morning and got moving right away, Ellyesce skipping his usual routine of checking for the Tyrant’s soldiers before they left.
“Going to preserve some of my energy for when we get closer to Cahrdyarein,” he said.
At noon, they stopped to rest on a rocky ledge. A few stunted pines adorned both sides of the road, but most of the trees had been left behind, nothing but the bare, granite bones of the mountain on full display.
Jahrra finished her meal quickly and then joined her guardian, who was standing on the precipice, his gaze trained northward. Ellyesce, on the other hand, excused himself to call upon his magic and check on their pursuers.
“How close are we?” she breathed, eyeing the sheer drop before her with extreme caution.
Jaax inclined his head toward a jagged peak less than five miles in the distance. “Just behind those crags,” he said. “You might be able to see part of the city’s stone wall if you look hard enough.”
Taking a careful step forward, Jahrra squinted her eyes and tried to spy what her guardian was talking about. Several spires of pale grey granite rose like teeth in an open maw, a sprinkling of green on either side of them suggesting more trees at the top. The road they currently traveled continued to hug the mountainside, winding back and forth like a silver serpent. Although it was wide compared to the last trail they’d been on, it still made Jahrra think of rock slides and a heart-stopping drop to the river far below. She returned her attention to the jagged outcropping and tried her luck again. There, between the slivers of rock, she made out a darker stone that looked too smooth to have been formed naturally.
“Does the wall encircle the entire city?” she wondered aloud.
Jaax nodded. “It is one of the city’s greatest achievements. The elves of Cahrdyarein can defend their city, and defeat an army of ten thousand, by simply employing the skills of their archers and the engineers who build their catapults. The city itself encircles the very precipice of the mountain, similar to Nimbronia.” Jaax lifted his head, drawing Jahrra’s eye with it.
The granite continued to taper upward, forming a snowcapped peak several hundred feet above the place where she noticed the wall.
“Who rules the city?” Jahrra asked, imagining that such a well-fortified place must have a strong leader.
Jaax cast her a sideways look. “No one rules, exactly,” he answered. “There is an elf by the name of Morivan Fairlein who has set himself up as regent. Most assuredly, his goal is to earn kingship from his people, but we are in the realm of the Creecemind dragons, and as far as I know, King Dhuruhn has not sanctioned his rule.
“The steward’s dwelling is located on the western side of the mountain, and sits above all the other buildings. You cannot see them from here, but there are several watchtowers placed along the wall. The fortress is defendable on all sides, and there is always someone keeping an eye on the outside world. Furthermore, the only way to get to the city is by this road, and one other on the northern side, both very visible for many miles.”
“So they know we are coming?”
Jaax smiled at his ward. “Given the fact that I sent word ahead before we left Lidien, yes.”
Jahrra narrowed her eyes at him. She would have punched him if doing so wouldn’t result in the skin being shredded from her knuckles.
“But yes,” he said again, picking up on her mood, “they would have seen us already.”
It was then that Ellyesce came stumbling through the low growing pines, looking ten shades paler than usual, the sharp bite of panic pinching his face. Jaax tensed immediately.
“What?” he growled.
“The Red Flange. They didn’t camp last night like I thought. They kept moving.”
“What does that mean?” Jahrra demanded, her skin prickling with fear.
Ellyesce turned to look at her, his sudden calm more terrifying than his earlier panic.
“They are only a mile away, if not less, and moving fast.”
Jaax cursed, a long, drawn out parade of words that made Jahrra’s bones rattle.
“On the horses. Now!” he roared. “Ellyesce, take Jahrra and Dervit ahead. Move as fast as possible. Get to the city gates. They will know who you are.”
Jahrra didn’t pause to ask questions. She bolted for Phrym, jumping on his back and reaching a hand out to a gaping Dervit.
“You’ll have to ride with me!” she cried. “I can hold onto you if we have to make a run for it.”
The limbit swallowed back his fear and took Jahrra’s hand wordlessly. She pulled him up and set him in front of her before nudging Phrym forward to join up with Ellyesce.
“Jaax!” she threw over her shoulder. “What about you?”
“I’ll only stay here if I have to. I want you three to get a sizeable head start, then I’ll follow.”
Jahrra blinked several times, then nodded, turning Phrym around so that she and Ellyesce could get the horses moving. If the Tyrant’s soldiers encountered Jaax on the road, would he be able to fight them off without getting hurt?
Memories from the day Hroombra died, images of him surrounded by the evil men with their pikes and swords, flashed through her mind. What if Jaax couldn’t handle all of them at once? What if they killed him? Jahrra avoided giving much thought to the idea of Jaax dying. He was too stubborn, too strong. Too skilled in battle to succumb to any mortal wound. But now, the threat was on their heels, not far off in the distance, and the very suggestion of her guardian being slaughtered like Hroombra sucked the air right out of her lungs. She gasped, almost losing her seat on Phrym.
“Jahrra! Jahrra, are you okay?” Dervit squeaked.
“F-fine,” she breathed.
Shaking her head to scatter those unhelpful thoughts, Jahrra told herself that Jaax wouldn’t let those evil slaves of the Tyrant get the better of him.
“Faster, Jahrra!” Ellyesce barked from twenty feet up the road.
Even Rumble the pack horse seemed to notice speed was of essence.
She gave Phrym a gentle kick in the ribs, and he dug his hooves into the loose stones. Ellyesce had his semequin moving at a swift jog, and she wondered if he’d encourage him into an even faster pace when they reached the flat expanse of granite just ahead.
Not wasting any more time on stray thoughts, Jahrra kept Phrym moving swiftly until they were just behind the elf.
“The road smoothes out and becomes dirt once again just around that next bend,” he shouted back to her. “There is also more tree cover, which will help if the Tyrant’s men make it to our resting area and think to use their bows.”
Dervit, who had remained silent throughout the tumultuous ride, yipped. “Arrows? You mean they’ll try to shoot us?”