Although it was too dark outside, the only light surrounding them that of the moon and the stars above, the view in front of her confirmed what she had already expected: on the fieldbeyond the walls, covered in grass, walked no beasts, only men—soldiers, to be more precise. Soldiers, who stood there silently guarding the stone walls along the entirety of its length. Men, who most likely were the ones to have taken her father’s life. It hit her then how her father lost his life in vain. What good was being a huntsman in a land with no monsters to slay?
What are these men guarding?
The exaggerated number of guards on the wall would only be reasonable if preventing monsters from penetrating Bryniard’s fortress was part of their duty, which wasn’t the case. Unless they weren’t there to protect her hometown from the outside world, but the other way around.
Alissa shook her head in denial. Why would they want so many soldiers protecting the world from Bryniard? A city filled with simple people who couldn’t possibly be a threat to whatever was on this side of the wall?
It can’t be that, she convinced herself.
She felt a weird knot in her stomach while watching those men in armor, swords hanging on their hips, standing in front of the wall beneath the night sky. Goosebumps traveled up her body until she finally sat back inside the barrel and closed the lid, leaving her impressions of the guards something to contemplate at a later time.
Almost an entire day had passed since Alissa and Freyah escaped Bryniard. Alissa knew that because she had seen daylight breach into the ale barrel hole and start to fade again while the sun set. Almost an entire day, and the man who led the carriage had yet to make a stop. The man who had been talking to himself and humming songs through most of the ridehad no idea he was transporting more than ale on the back of the carriage.
The ride was more uncomfortable than she had anticipated. She felt sick, tired. Her legs were numb from the way she sat to fit in the barrel. Her stomach ached from being too empty, while her bladder ached for the exact opposite reason. Before leaving Bryniard, they had agreed to hide in the cart, inside the barrels, in silence until the carriage made its first stop. When it stopped, they would quietly climb down and run until they were out of sight. They never imagined it would take so long.
A while later, the carriage stopped for the first time. The barrel shook so much she felt the bitterness of bile climbing up her throat until she shoved it back in. Alissa took advantage of the stop and started to stand. It was finally time to set herself free from this damned alcohol-smelling vessel. From inside the barrel, she cautiously opened the lid, slowly standing and reaching her hand out to help Freyah do the same. When she finally looked up, she saw a man staring at them, his mouth agape.
He wore a white loose-fitting shirt adorned with subtle embroidery along the hems. His shirt was tucked at his waist under black linen trousers, the belt there, used only to carry a huge sword. His knee-length boots were covered in mud and foliage. The man was likely in his late twenties; his loose, tousled black hair flew with the breeze, his olive skin glowed against the sunset sky, and his eyes were the greenest she had ever seen.
His strong features made her wonder if all men on this side of the wall were this handsome.
Alissa didn’t waste any time; a stranger carrying a weapon could present a great threat to them. She acted fast, dropping her friend’s hand to grab her bow. The bowstring became taut, the arrow ready to be released before the stranger could draw his sword.
Alissa held onto the arrow a moment longer, assessing his next movements. She was used to killing animals, but she wasn’t so willing to kill a person.
“If you move, you’ll die,” Alissa said, her voice dangerously low.
The man nodded, his arms raised in surrender. After the initial shock, his facial expression only displayed annoyance; he definitely wasn’t counting on such a disturbance.
Alissa signaled Freyah to leave the carriage with a shake of her head, but she didn’t take her eyes off the man, her gaze worthy of an experienced huntress. Her bowstring was still pulled, ready to shoot.
Freyah held a dagger in her hand to help Alissa, though it was clearly just for show; her inexperience was evident in her trembling hands. The chuckle escaping the man’s lips proved that it didn’t go unnoticed.
Landing on the ground, Alissa tucked her bow and arrow away for a moment to grab the sword strapped to the man’s belt. It was the finest weapon she had ever seen. The hilt, adorned with emerald-green jewels, reminded her of leaves on twisted vines, and the steel of the blade was so polished it could be used as a mirror. She let out a whistle while her fingers slid down the edge of the blade. The man’s nose wrinkled in response; her touch on his sword provoked some sort of agony, she realized.
Good.
“Tell us how to get to the canyons, and we won’t kill you,” Alissa said, replacing her bow with the sword in her hand to threaten him.
The man only sighed. “Give me my sword back, please,” he replied in a deep and steady voice.
“For you to stab us both?” Freyah asked, her hands resting on her waist, when she remembered her dagger should be pointed at him instead, promptly recovering her “intimidating” stance.
“What makes you think you are in a position to make demands? We have three weapons held against you,” Alissa said.
He watched them both with attentive eyes; neither of the women could hide their emotions as successfully as they might have thought. Alissa’s determination and Freyah’s fear were transparent even to a complete stranger.
“I can help you get to the Canyons of Truths if that’s what you wish.” He sighed. “Why you would like to go there of all places is completely out of my understanding, though.”
This was the first time Alissa had heard the place referred to as the Canyons of Truths. She had anticipated a greater challenge in finding someone who could provide directions to a place as sacred as this one seemed to be—if it even existed at all.
She hesitated for a moment; the way the man spoke made her wonder what kind of dangers could be waiting for them there. He could be lying. He could have realized they were completely ignorant of all matters of this world and bluffed about the existence of this place. He could be leading them into a trap. Yet she couldn’t afford to waste time on her search. She needed to believe he was telling the truth.
“We’ll make a deal. You take us to the Canyons of Truths, and in return, we’ll let you go with your sword,” Alissa offered, her voice solemn, as if granting him the mercy of being spared.
The man let out a humorless laugh. “It’s a five-day ride, miss. Are you sure about that?” He stared at her, not with fear, not feeling threatened, but intrigued.
Knowing her destination was only days away brought Alissa a sense of relief that the man standing before her would never comprehend. That meant if she were successful in her search for the cure in the canyons, she would be back to Bryniard in less than a couple of weeks and, most importantly, in time to save Dhalia.