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549. Between the Trees
🕑 Added 2024-01-20 08:00:03 +0000 UTCMartel did not know whether to stare at Eleanor or the two horses. "I don't know how to ride," he told her, dropping his pack on the ground that he might cross his arms.
"You are a prefect, and it is time you learn. This is the perfect opportunity." She opened his pack and stuffed the contents into a saddlebag.
"But the post riders need these horses. You know, to ride with the post." Martel looked around as if he might spot one of them to bolster his argument.
"They can spare two. Come on, into the saddle."
With some difficulty, Martel got one foot into the stirrup and swung himself up. He nearly overshot, but managed to stop himself and get into the saddle.
Eleanor handed over his staff. "See? That was no trouble at all."
***
"Everything hurts." They had decided to make camp for the night, having travelled for a full day. Martel felt sore to the point where just the thought of sitting down sent tingles of pain through him.
"Surely not everything." Eleanor gave him an overbearing look. "You will be fine. It just takes a little getting used to."
Having determined a small spot for their campsite, they handled the different necessary preparations. The horses were unsaddled, given feed, and allowed to graze on what little the forest might offer. Both mages created runes of warning in a circle around their home for the night; each of them could keep two symbols active at a time, and they dispersed the four runes to cover their surroundings as best they could. Lastly, Martel did at brief and simple enchantment on a rock, providing them with heat during the night.
With all this done, Martel carefully placed himself on the ground, lying on his side, and they ate from their provisions. "How's your arm?"
She ran her fingers over the gash, already closed. "Healing, thank you. It will be fine soon enough."
Martel looked at her, thinking about the strange events that in the end had led them to this point. In camp or on patrol, they were always surrounded by noise and people, and especially the last many days had left Martel feeling worn out with little time or inclination for deeper contemplation. But now, in the quietude of the forest, he remembered what Eleanor had given up for his sake. Being with him, she would never become a legate or any other such position of influence. And he could not imagine there was another posting in the legions where a mageknight constantly faced the enemy like she did.
Martel wanted to ask her if she regretted her decision, following him to the Tenth, but he knew it was selfish to bring that up. Even if she had regrets, she was far too kind to ever admit them. Whether truth or lie, her answer would be the same, and so Martel's reason for asking would not be to know her answer, but to make himself feel better. To have her absolve him of his guilt.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked.
"I was just wondering – have you heard from your family lately? It's been awhile since you mentioned any letters."
"I have not received anything since we went to the outpost, but maybe some will be waiting for me back in Esmouth. I'm not sure if personal correspondence is delivered to the outpost or only missives from our superiors." She yawned as she spoke.
"Why don't I take first watch?" he suggested. "I'm too sore to be comfortable any time soon."
She laughed a little. "You poor thing. Wake me up when the moon is over that tree." She pointed to indicate her choice and lay down on the ground, pulling her cloak around her.
***
The forest continued to be quiet. At least in comparison to an army camp. The occasional rustle of leaves or flapping of wings did not seem like noise, but more like the music that might be heard in the background of an emotional scene in a theatre play, like the reunion of the hero and the heroine.
Martel looked at Eleanor's sleeping form. He should be keeping watch in every other direction, from where danger might actually appear, but he used his magical sense now and then instead, being a more reliable method of vigilance than his eyes. It told him of nothing but birds in branches and woodland creatures scurrying about.
Other than their brief trip into the wetlands collecting herbs, this was the first time they had been truly alone. A full day's journey between them and any other people. He imagined if, rather than an exception, this was every day. The two of them, travelling where they saw fit. No orders or commanders, no patrols or skirmishes, no cares or concerns other than which destination they might choose for their travels. With his skills in enchanting in alchemy, and all their magical powers between them, he did not imagine they would ever want for much.
He released his breath, letting his thoughts leave him as well. He had twenty years of service ahead of him while she had only five. Martel did not know what would happen, but he doubted her father would accept that she continued as protector, wasting her talents in the Tenth. A life awaited her in Morcaster, along with her family and a betrothal; all things that Martel had no part of. Days like today were rare, and they would not last, he knew that. All he could do was appreciate them when they happened.
***
As the moon reached its position above a certain tree, Martel reached out and gently shook Eleanor awake. "Hm? Oh, is it my turn?" she asked with a sleepy voice.
"It is. No sign of visitors other than an owl hunting for supper. Try not to look like a tasty mouse."
"I shall do my best, though you ask much of me."
Grunting in response, Martel carefully arranged himself on his side; despite any discomfort, he fell asleep soon after.
~
Martel's character sheet (no change).
