The snow was falling in frightening masses from the starless sky. Régnwald furrowed his brow as he looked back the way they had come earlier, his fingers subconsciously working the collar of the heavy leather cloak with the cape of wolf-fur over his shoulders, tightening it around his neck. It was cold, and the wind was further picking up. It was no storm yet, but it would soon become one. No weather to make for the narrow pathway to the hills, least of all by night. It was a little-known shortcut that – if they managed to get through – would grant them almost a day to reach the fort as opposed to taking the much longer way across the woods. It was treacherous though, they would not only have to worry about the enemy spies and unknown beasts in the woods that might befall on their path, but also about storms.
Five horsemen, clad in hauberks and shields with war-blades adorning them trotted forth in the woodland path. Æschere''s keen, watchful eyes cut back to the distant glow on the horizon, back the way they had come. He had carried the wounded Eorcan to the hut a short while ago before he was taken by the party from Forlaw. Then his thoughts turned to the enemy that was indeed still approaching, grimly determined, and to his beloved lord Thrymm, the heavy-handed rider firmed his grasp of the reins as he rode slowly on. After him, a warrior named Hondscioh would follow, with hair and beard of fire hue, covering his pale, ghostly features. With his lord and dear friend, Régnwald, they would be hunted for the rest of his lowly, miserable life wherever the slightest rumour of his appearance surfaced. No, his only chance was to follow him and – if possible – kill them all, every single orc in the fort. Although… a man as cunning as Régnwald's cousin, Yrmenlaf also had to know that there would have been messengers deployed already, which he guessed, had to be halfway. Would any hand of aid come from anywhere? Or was he assuming that Reeve Gãrwig would keep his men together, hoping that those one or two additional men would make the difference in battle if he would not send them away? Who knew what went on inside that old man's twisted mind?
Ahead of them, Régnwald rode, breathing deeply under his iron helm. The horse, of Wildermore breed, was dark with sweat, its breath a white cloud in the chilly air as it stretched under its heavy rider.
His light occupation was broken when he heard the crunching of snow under heavy hooves from below and then someone ascending the gentle hill ride beside him. A broad, brown-clad figure, 'twas Langhund, breathing under his thick beard of scarlet hue. He passed his superior's presence with a curt nod. There was one question on his weathered, tanned face as he faced him, scanning the man's gloomy expression. He did not like it… not at all.
"How is your wound?"
''It's on the mend, Langhund.'' He replied, stifling his natural and somewhat unenthusiastic reaction. The Eorling turned his gaze broodingly ahead, his thoughts clearly still back in the hut. A thick, sharp scent of herbs emitted from him into the chilly late-winter air.
"We can build a fire and rest for the night." Yrmenlaf's voice arose, inhaling deeply thereafter. He could not afford to lose focus now. The situation was still desperate. ''He wouldn't accept that.'' Hondscioh, his kinsman had learned long ago to read his friend's moods and knew what his usual quietness meant. Carefully, he inquired further, his eyes following the exiled captain's gaze even if there was nothing new to see, his voice lowered in concern.
"Will we stop to make a plan?"
"Oh yeah." Régnwald firmed his jaw and then turned to Hondscioh with a deep sigh. The tired and worried expression in his dark green eyes spoke louder than words. "But let's head on until the hour fully grows late.'' He unlocked his word-hoard then "The deed was made not a long while ago. We should not wait much longer, especially under these conditions." He nodded at the thickly falling snow. "The warg-riders will have a better grip in the woods than our horses. I don't know how fast, but it's safe to assume they're advancing faster than we want them to... and I'm not certain at all whether we should attempt to cross this pathway… the rocks will be covered with ice, and there is of course the danger of avalanches to consider. I'm thinking, we would stand a better chance at staying ahead of them on open ground... without risking as much.''
Hondscioh pursed his lips pensively and took his time to consider his answer while he watched the snowflakes melt on his fiery eyebrows.
