“Then should I remind you of the state you left the temples?”
Rianaire laughed as she turned to head into the Bastion. “More abuse. Best you stop before I soak through my small clothes.”
U
Aile
Aile left Fásachbaile’s Bastion City before there were any sounds inside the inn. She did not want to be bothered with meals before such a long ride. Her horse followed her again without complaint or sound. She had seen the remnants of food left in the dirt around it, so it had been fed at least. She was half surprised it decided to follow her after being fed by some other’s hand. It did not matter, she supposed. Going without stealing a horse meant the already passive guards had no reason to be vigilant should she return.
It seemed the horse had taken even more gleefully to being unhindered by the chariot than their first ride made it seem. She had never known a horse so fast. Compared to the half-hearted gallops when it was weighted down, the animal now nearly flew over the easy terrain of the main road away from the Bastion City. She kept expecting her mount to tire as the hours drove past, but it seemed to be sourced with boundless energy and an unwillingness to slow. Surely the horsefolk were breeding from a different stock than the elves but they made such poor use of them. The foothills passed them and Aile turned north as the sun drew toward the far edge of the sky. It would be another pair of hours yet until it went down. She had prepared a bundle for sleeping but she may not need it. The faun owed her money and so much more for his part in the little charade and she meant to collect on the debt without much delay.
She wondered idly as she rode if he had been warned in any way. There would be less fun in that. A quiet job, quick and unsatisfying. The plans she had built up in her mind would not be played out as she hoped and with so little else to look forward to she doubted her heart could bear such a loss. She sighed sarcastically to no one and laughed lightly, looking up to the sky, imagining what fun she could have.
Her pace had slowed with the rougher terrain that came with riding among the open desert. It was not an unpleasant ride, especially when compared to how she had traveled for so much of the previous weeks. She was nearing the camp, at least, and with more than a few hours to spare before the sun would come up. For a moment she wondered if the camp would be where she left it. It seemed curious as an existence. Some anomaly that had no centaur and had tasked itself with gathering up a very influential satyr. Surely the centaur would not smile upon that sort of thing. It was doubtful the faun could rejoin his friends, or even if his orders were meant to be valid. Salaar may have had ideas of his own about changing the face of the hippocamp forces and the papers may well have been for pulling forces into place. It riled her that she could not know. When there was less to be done, she would need to gather a little satyr or a faun of her own and learn as her former employer had.
The camp came into view after another hour or so, she had stopped bothering to keep track of the passing of minutes as they mattered little. Her horse seemed to understand where it was bound and had headed there without any coaxing or direction. She wondered what it might do when she dismounted so close to where it was often allowed to wander. It was an animal, even if it seemed a clever one, it was like to return to its ways and wander off. There was little she could do about it, and with any luck she would at least be able to find a suitable mount at the satyr’s odd stable area. There were only a pair of fires burning in the camp that Aile could see from the angle she approached. Strange, she ought to have seen at least a half dozen from the numbers she’d left in the camp before when the old goat was delivered.
She unmounted her horse and it looked at her until she began to move. As she started to walk into the outer rim of the camp, the horse moved to follow. She sighed. This would not do. It would be a shame to dirty a blade but the horse could not be allowed to follow her into the camp. She had not seen one in her entire time there before and it would draw attention even if they were a normal sight in the camps.
“You. Sit. Wait here.”
She pointed to the ground and the horse looked to the spot and then back up. It took a step to her and chuffed.
“Stay.” She said the words more firmly this time, pointing again to the ground. “Sit. Wait.”
Her hand started toward a blade when the horse took a few steps back, exhaling and shaking its head. It moved to the place she had pointed and stood. She turned back to the camp and took a step. There was no sound behind her. She shook her head, not sure if she should be annoyed at having to coax an animal to leave her be or happy that it seemed her ride away from the camp was secured.
Slinking into the camp was easily done and curiously quiet. She made for the largest tent near the camp’s edge and climbed the side of it, wary at the lack of noise. All the goats breathed like death when they slept and it was certainly late enough for that. She
