This choice: Aris is injured on his way to the camp, unconsious, what should Jaren do? • Go Back... It was not an easy journey, for they could travel only just before light or just after evenfall. Their horses had their hooves muffled with squares of cloth tied on, this made them fidget and cavort more than usual when ridden. All the bits and buckles were also padded here and there to prevent clinking. As for the horses neighing, they had chosen the oldest and best trained, these would not neigh unless they saw grave and immediate danger.
They rested in thickets and caves by day, when they might run into patrols on business, they ate cold food, for they could not allow a wisp even of smoke. It made for a laborious and slow progress and Jaren's muttering and grumbling was wearing down Aris' patience. Yet, he needed the other man for the plan to be brought to fruition.
"Aris, why do we dodge and hide even now, we have seen nary another soul in these three days. We could have made the journey thus far in one day!
"We have seen none, and more important, none have seen us, because we have taken precautions. Had we been on the road later, or earlier, we might not have had that luxury."
"Ho, the only ones to use these trails are farmers and villagers, let those dolts see us."
"It's not even the chance met patrol I fear, but these very dolts you dismiss. They are liable to pass on the information of two loaded horses and strangers passing this way. Then, be sure, the patrols will converge upon our trail."
"You shy from ghosts and look for shadows from which to cower! Ha! Is this the brave Aris who fought on the fields of Irame?"
"I fought there, and hope to live to fight these cursed barons and their like. Which is not likely to happen if you are in charge of our journey."
"I am more than capable of finding Sramius on my own, You need not think yourself so clever, Sir Know-it-all!"
"Scramius may not reveal himself to you, alone. Be careful, do not go off alone, there's suspicion all around these days, even from allies."
"I still think you are being ox-headed."
Aris just grunted, there was no point in going on with the useless debate. He looked around, wondering if that was a twig crackling underfoot, that snap he had just heard.. He raised his right hand and shushed Jaren's attempt to continue his tirade.
He quickened the horse's gait with a twitch of the reins, if it was a man on foot, he'd soon be left behind.
"Ah, good, now you are making good time."
"Jaren, there's danger here. Be careful, I hear rustling and clinking around us!"
Jaren heard it too, his face paled, silent now, he too urged his horse to better speed.
He had just gone past Aris, who was slowing for some inexplicable reason, when he heard a groan. He swung in the saddle to see ...
Aris had been struck by an arrow, but it must have been a flesh wound only, because he pulled it out and threw it away.
"A child's toy? It was a mere six inches long, and barely as thick as a quill!" Yet, he shortened the reins and motioned Jaren to keep going.
"Fly man, for we know not what more they have in check!"
The two horses needed no urging, they sensed the tension and made ate up the road with their long strides.
It must have been four or five miles later that Aris signalled a halt.
"Stop! I can ... go on ... no more. I feel ..."
Aris swayed in the saddle and fell to the ground.
Jaren jumped off his mount and stopped to the still figure. He tried to support him, but Aris just slipped back, his jacket opening to show the bloodstained shirt underneath. He pulled that cloth out of the waistband, there was a tiny puncture wound, but the flesh was purple and green for inches around.
Poison. The arrow was meant not to injure but to deliver the poison.
Jaren starred at his companion's limp form.
Now I have to tend to him, but know neither the poison nor its remedy. I have to find Sramius. He will be able to tell me how to tackle this. I pray he will.
One tear trickled down his his weather-beaten cheek, he let it roll into the corner of his mouth, salt and bitter.
"My friend, for you are that. I swear I shall keep you alive and well and help you find the answers you seek."
He lifted the dead-weight of his friend, staggering under the load as he arranged it over the saddle of the patient steed.
Onward, we ride to Scramius' lair.
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