They had ridden all day, Silver and Steel. The horse had always been happiest when he could set the pace, and his pace was usually as swift as wind. This time, however, he had put his all into it. He knew that his rider would never ask him to push himself further than he was able, nor to exhaust himself for her sake, but he could feel the urgency in her, the desperation to be somewhere. Deep down he knew, in his own horsey way, that Silver would be forever grateful for the speed with which he had conveyed her that day.
Indeed, she was, or would be at least, when she could focus upon anything but the task in hand. A single-mindedness drove her, one that she knew all too well. That very same relentless fixation had made her reputation as a treasure hunter. There was a job to be done, and she would do it regardless of the cost to herself and this... this was her most important job yet.
They had stopped for only an hour in Trestlebridge. Steel had needed a little rest, some food and some water. Silver had needed to purchase some supplies. Then, they had continued across the Trestlespan, to the North, where the familiar fields lay like an infected wound across the lush, green land.
By then, the light had long since faded, and though every fiber of her being demanded that she continue on, Silver forced herself to stop. Steel needed sleep, as did she. It would be reckless, foolish, to go on now. She would be no use to anyone dead, least of all him.
She didn't dream that night. Perhaps it was the exhaustion caused by her sleepless night before or the proximity to such a familiar place. It may even have had something to do with the way in which she left no room for other thoughts beyond her goal. The reasons didn't matter. The good night's sleep before the search began was precisely what had been needed.
Come morning's first light, she stood at the very edge of that place, where the live trees suddenly gave way to dead. She watched the mists swirl, disturbed by the faint breeze, and she smiled.
It was a homecoming of sorts. She was where she had always been the most comfortable, felt the most welcome; that slender line between survival and annihilation. The grey areas, neither one thing or the other, just like her.
She breathed in the frigid air, the delicate scents of the sleeping spring, soon to be awoken, tinged with the essence of ancient decay.
It was quiet here. Too quiet. They must have done their job well, he and his wretched companion, for not a single wail was to be heard. The spirits were not at peace, they were never at peace, but for the moment they were, at least, subdued.
Interesting.
She would consider this later. For now, she had to prepare. The spirits, if they chose to make themselves known, would latch onto any sign of weakness, any sorrow or fear, and they would turn it against her. She knew their games, and she knew how not to play them.
Bury them down deep. Take them all, those emotions that would make her vulnerable, and squash them down. Roll them into a ball, so small and cold, so hard, like a marble, and hide them all away. Feel nothing. Focus. See the job. Do the job. There was nothing else.
Steel whickered behind her. She turned, making her way to his side and clambered up onto his broad back. There was no more time to waste; the search must begin.
An hour or two saw the pair arrive at the Norbury Gates. The letter had mentioned the fortress itself. It seemed like a good place to start. Nothing moved within, which certainly seemed suspicious. Usually, there was at least an orc or two lurking around for reasons beyond her ability to care, or some of the half-dead wildlife seeking an opportunity to feed. She gripped the hilt of her kukri just in case, checking that it would come free of its bindings with ease should it be necessary to use. Satisfied, they moved on.
Around the crumbling walls, they wandered, seeking sign of recent activity. She was no tracker, but she knew what to look for in this case; blood, disturbed earth, torn clothing or the ashes of a campfire. Even the leavings of defeated foes would be a sign, although it was likely that any wights he had encountered had since reformed themselves at the behest of their master. They never stayed down for long.
The courtyard yielded no clues, only questions that she had no interest in asking at this time, so they moved further in. Not too far, mind. Getting past the water wights was easy if one were to avoid the puddles, but she was not on her own two feet at the moment. She would not endanger Steel any more than she had to, and she had no intention of searching every room in what remained of the buildings. Not yet, at least. Not unless she had to.
There was naught to be found.
If they had come here, then they had not stayed, but she would. The stone facades, though long since fallen to ruin, were still tall and sturdy enough to offer a little shelter for the night. It would serve her well.
In the morning, she would begin again.
