The Messenger: A Hailgalad Story

The night noises of the forest felt amplified in the dark woods. Frits was on edge as each step of their horses made a loud crunch with the dead leaves underfoot. The settlement had disappeared from view a while ago and each of the three riders had been silent since. Their mind's stewed with guilt as they thought of what happened to their woodsmen friends.

Were they left alive or had some horrible fate fallen onto them? Did the northfolk know where they were now or were they in the clear?

"We are lucky to have these horses," Eva said as she led the three riders. "I cannot see anything and would surly be stumbling through this forest. They, on the other hand, seem to know exactly where to step."

"But do they know the direction, and where they are going?" Jon asked. "What if we come out headed away from the capital. We could end up never making it to our king and queen."

"We have to trust the woodsmen," Frits said. "I have faith this path will lead us out of here and in the right direction."

"Wherever it leads, I think we will need rest for the time being," Eva said with a tired voice.

Frits did a quick check of his body and realized how tired he actually was. In order to keep moving, his mind had blocked out the toll this journey had taken on him so far. His eyes were heavy and his body ached terribly. Taunten was also dragging a bit as they walked through the woods.

"What do you propose?"

"We cannot just sleep in the woods," Jon protested. "They are not far behind. Those weerwolven will find us and that will be the end of it."

"Maybe they will," Eva shrugged. "But we need rest. More importantly, our horses need rest. We have to risk sleep. Once we have taken the time, we will be all the faster for it."

They moved on for a while longer, until they reached an empty glade. It was a serene breath of fresh air from the thick and chocked path. The bright moon shone down and gave a soft glow to the area. They could see that the ground had a good amount of fresh grass for the horses. Eva, Jon, and Frits dismounted and let them graze freely.

Frits scanned the forest uncomfortably. The serenity of the glade was comforting, but all around the dark forest stood in watchful silence. It felt as if a hundred eyes prayed upon them, waiting for their guards to be down. For Frits, the space far too open to be wholly comforting, but it would have to do.

After a moment of contemplating their makeshift camp, he said to the others, "Let us take their saddles off. It will give them more of a rest. Also, if anyone spots them, we can hope they see them as any old, wild horses."

The others obliged and they relieved their animals of their burdens. Taunten snorted and licked Frits. "Easy there, we have a long way to go," he said softly. "We are in this together."

"Over here," Jon whispered.

The other two joined him and saw a wide and shallow hole in the midst of gnarled roots. It was filled with leaves which made as soft a bed as one could hope for in a place like this.

"Will this do?" he asked with a shrug.

"Yes, I believe this will," Eva said with a sigh.

The three took off their packs and placed them in the heavy brush with the horse's saddles. Jon removed some dried meat from his pack and Frits took a few slices of his mother's heinbrood. They all munched on the meager meal thoughtfully as they crouched in the darkness.

The bread brought Frits some comfort as he thought of home. He never thought he would miss his bed that was too cramped in a room shared with his brothers, but he did miss it dearly. A heavily sigh came out of his lungs as he sat there in thought. The cold of the night was closing in now that they were no longer on the move. After a cheerless dinner, they all slumped down into the hole together.

When Frits laid still, his stress subsided slightly, but all his physical ailments started to bubble to the surface. His arm and shoulder burned from his injuries. His back hurt from crouching in the mill and riding for all those hours. He was horribly tired and freezing cold, but the hole quickly warmed up with the three laying in it.

"At least it's warm," he said with a sigh.

"Thank Areandel for that, and for our lives," Eva said.

She shuddered at the thought of the howling winds and driving snow at Frostwatch.

They laid in silence for a while, each not being able to fall asleep. The noises of the night were unsettling. Small creatures sounded like the quick footsteps of the enemy. Wind through the dead leaves on tree branches sounded like them slowly making their way towards the three laying, defenseless in the hole. The sounds were almost too overwhelming to Frits as a million thoughts of terrible things plagued his mind.

"Did we make a mistake in not telling Everand about those strange folk on the road?" Frits finally asked the others.

"Possibly," Eva responded. "Based on the timing of the attack, I am not sure what good it would have done. We told Greta not long after, and it was too late. Regardless, it is impossible to know what would have happened if we told them. What's done is done and now we must move forward."

Silence gripped the group once more as they laid there.

"Do you think we could have a song?" Frits asked to cut out the swirling thoughts.

He was not sure why a song came to mind, but he wished desperately for a break from this anxiety before he could sleep.

"Is that safe?" Jon said without moving. He was nestled in with a spare blanket from his horse.

"Is anything safe?" Eva responded. "To be honest, we were quite loud while we moved through the forest. If the northfolk were around and are as expert as the woodsmen suggested, then they would have spotted us by now. For the sake of our minds, I think we should risk a quiet song. Do you have one in mind, Frits?"

Frits nestled in further after a gust of wind blew over the opening of the hole. He thought of a song that would be fitting of the moment. Messengers of the Crown and Riders in the Fields of Grass, but each of them felt too joyous for this place. The world felt bleak and cold. Danger was all about them. Fear was the main feeling swirling in his mind. There were no great songs that came to mind for them, so he just began to sing the first thing that came in his head.

Come with me to the little old inn,

Where people come to meet their kin.

They come from far and wide,

To be together side by side.

I'd like for you to come with me,

So we can lessen our misery.

We'll speak of days long passed,

And times we wished would last.

Ride with me to the little old inn,

Where strangers meet and all will win.

We'll waste away the day,

For it is cold and grey.

Come sit with me here by the fire,

Here we have all we require.

The hard days work is done,

We can rest here and have some fun.

Break out the games break out the ale,

Take off that armor shirt of mail.

Savor these moments make them last,

For life it travels far too fast.

Come with me to the little old inn,

Where you can't help but to crack a grin.

We'll waste away the day,

For it is cold and grey.

Frits finished his short verse that floated softly from his lips into the air. It hung there for a moment before fading away into the darkness. It was what he could remember from a song his father would sing when they had company and would be playing games of dice and cards.

He was the oldest of his siblings and would watch him with complete love and envy. His father's deep booming voice that filled a room. His jokes and songs that would light up any face. He was the man Frits wanted to live up to every day of his life. Everyday he felt that he fell short.

A tear fell from his face as he thought of his father. It had been a few years, but the pain still came in waves from time to time. He turned left to see his two companions were fast asleep.

I am not sure if that is a compliment to my song making, but I will take it as one, he thought.

Before long, the young man's tiredness finally started to take over his body as he drifted off and faded into an uneasy sleep.

***

Frits woke up to a shuffling of feet. His eyes grew wide and his pulse quickened, but he was able to keep his wits about him and stayed low in the hole. He went to nudge Eva, who was by his side, but his arm felt nothing. He looked over to see Jon and Eva were gone. He was alone.

Panic rushed into his heart and made him lightheaded as he scrambled and tried to lift his head out of the hole. The landscape revealed two northfolk soldiers looking around for a sign of their prey.

"Where are these rats?" a bruiting voice bellowed. "Making us run across all these forests. What's so special about these riders anyway?"

"The chief said they are important," another with a high voice sneered. "If they get back to their stinking capital before we do, it will be a lot harder to snuff them all out. They'll fortify their defenses and lock up their doors. It won't save them, but it would mean a lot more of us would have to perish in the assault."

Frits tried to shift so he could make a run for it, but it moved the dirt and a few small rocks fell into the hole. He laid low and held his breath, but it was over. They heard him.

The two stopped and quietly looked at one another. The one with the high voice gave a snide smile and they stared at the hole. All was silent for a moment that seemed to last a lifetime.

One of them suddenly yelled, "There, get 'em!"

Frits got up to run, but an arrow was loosed right to him that found its mark.

"No!" Frits shouted as he shot up from a deep sleep.

A hand grabbed at him and he flinched.

"Hey Frits, it's me," Eva said in a soothing voice.

"Where are they?" he asked as he shuffled around violently.

"Who? We are alone. It is okay. Everything is alright. We are safe for now," she said in as comforting a tone as she could muster.

Frits took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. As he came to his senses, he realized that he had been asleep. He peered out of the hole and saw only the horses standing in place, fast asleep.

"Sorry about that," Frits said, a little embarrassed of the nightmare.

"No need," Eva said as she gave him a pat on the shoulder. "I had one a bit earlier and was already up. This one, on the other hand, will sleep through anything."

Frits looked over to see Jon bundled up, fast asleep with his back to them.

Drums rolled in the distance as Frits laid back down and said, "I did not hear those earlier. Have they been going for a while?"

"Yes, since I woke up anyway," Eva replied. "They are coming from the East, so it might be the northfolk along the Northwood."

There was the most faint bit of light flowing into the forest. Birds were flying to and from the tree they laid under. Frits watched them with such envy. They were without a care and could fly straight to the capital from here. He and his companions were still a long way from home.

The young man laid there quiet and still as he tried to savor this moment of peace. He wished he could freeze all time and just stay in the hole as he listened to the soft, morning sounds of the forest. The hole that in any other circumstance would be an undesirable place to rest, but here, it was a safe and nestled home that Frits did not want to leave. He knew, however, that they needed to go.

Finally, Frits took in a large inhale and sighed out, "Is it our time to get moving?"

"I suppose so," Eva sighed as well as she nudged Jon.

"No!" Jon jolted up from his sleep.

After shuffling around in a frantic fright, he quickly realized that he was fine, and laid back down in a heave.

"Sorry," Eva said as she patted Jon's shoulder. "It is time for us to get moving."

Eva led the group as she crawled out of the hole with caution. She was lighter than the others and therefore was the least likely to make noise as she got up.

When she saw no one was there, she called back, "Clear."

Frits was the next to move. His arm and shoulder were almost immobile from the injuries he endured. He winced as he shifted and crawled out of the hole. He stood up and examined his arm through the tears in his cloth sleeve. His arm was still an unnatural blue, but the stinging pain had lessened. He stretched it out and it seemed manageable to gut it out for the day.

Jon was in worse shape than Frits as he tried to climb out of the hole. Frits and Eva helped to pull him out as he grunted in pain. When he came onto level ground, he had his hands on his knees.

"I have seen better mornings," he sighed and stretched.

"Better to see a morning at all," Eva replied.

She grabbed a saddle and put it on her horse. Fritz and Jon both needed help putting their saddles on, which slowed the preparations.

Once they were ready to go, they spied their path. It continued through the thick forest as far as they could see.

"I suppose difficult should be our friend," Frits said. "It is the path they would least expect."

They all mounted their horses and started off at a steady pace. Jon was the first to speak again as they filed onto the path.

"I do not suppose anyone has any food on them. The food they gave me at Frostwatch spilled out of my bag when I was thrown from my horse. That meat from last night was the last of it."

Frits grabbed the heinbrood from his pouch. “Here you go,” Frits tossed a chunk on the bread his mother gave him. “Have some more of the heinbrood from my mother."

"You are a lifesaver," Jon said. Eva took some as well and they munched on the crunchy bread as they rode.

It was not long until the sun was beating down onto the forest. The path they took had less mature trees than usual. It was filled with brambles of thorny bushes which provided less cover than the tree-lined Northwood Road.

"It feels good to have the warm sun on us again," Jon said as he smiled and looked up at the sparse canopy.

Their spirits were lifted from the hearty food in their bellies and the sun that continued to shine. They also saw no sign of the northfolk and the drums could no longer be heard. With this good mood on their hearts, they sang together in a low, but joyous tune as they moved at a quick pace.

Riders in the Fields of Grass,

Lend me here your shining brass.

As we ride in the shining light,

With our armor glinting bright.

Come ride with me to glory,

Help me write our story.

Onward for the king,

His rule fair as the angels sing.

Onward for the Queen,

Her rule shines with the greatest sheen.

For Hailgalad we ride for thee,

May your reign forever be.

Riders in the Fields of Grass,

Come and form the joyful mass.

Sing with me while the morning lasts,

Trumpeters join in with merry blasts.

Come ride with me to glory,

Help me write our story.

The song Riders in the Fields of Grass had a number of additions verses. Since they were messengers of the crown, they continued with their division's rendition.

Messengers with armor bright,

Come now ride both day and night.

For we carry our monarch's word,

Be quick and swift just like a bird.

Come ride with me to glory,

Help me write our story.

The trail steadily lowered as they moved on. The large trees returned and their path again was dark with little trickles of sun filtering through the canopy. The darkness gave an ominous feel and the horses became unsteady.

"What is going on with them?" Jon asked, looking from side to side on the path.

"I am not sure," said Eva, who led the group. "Just stay sharp and keep your eyes open."

They soon realized the problem with this path. Before long, they came before the Frostfall River. Its icy waters ran through the way forward with a quick current. The only way forward was a long, rickety, and rotting bridge made of ropes and planks.

"Well, this is a problem," Frits said as he came alongside his companions.

"I would not cross that bridge even if we did not have any horses," Eva said doubtfully. "It is probably older than our grandfathers."

"And has not been maintained since then," Frits added ruefully.

"Can we ford the river? Surely our horses can make it," Jon put in with a eagerness to continue south.

Eva shook her head, "Maybe a few league south, but not here. The river runs too quick and too deep for our horses. We would have a better chance facing that force on the road."

"Maybe that is what we should do," Frits said with a shrug.

They both looked at him as if he lost his mind.

"That is suicide," Jon shorted.

"Of course," Frits chuckled. "But we may have passed them already. I cannot hear the drums anymore. The Northwood should be somewhere on our left.

Frits examined the river's edge to their left thoughtfully as he continued, "The bank of the river looks passable for us to make it down that way. If we make it to the bridge, we can cross and recede back to this trail."

"I vote we go right," Jon said as he shook his head. "It is less risky. Maybe we can find something that way."

"We have to cross the river at some point and for all we know the forest just becomes more dense that way," Frits countered. "At least we know there is a path to our left."

"Eva?" Jon turned to her. "You have more experience than either of us. What do you think?"

"I am not sure what my experience would help here, but I would vote left," she said, still seeming a bit unsure as she looked either way. "It is the most sure bet."

"It seems like an awful risk," Jon gave one final argument.

"We need to take risks to get back to the capital in time," Eva countered "We need to show up alive, but if we take too long, all this would be for nothing. The sacrifice the people at Frostwatch made to allow our escape, the woodsmen confrontation. They are counting on us to see our end through."

"Alright," Jon shrugged. "Let's get to it."

The three fell in line behind Frits, who led them on the muddy trail East, alongside the cold waters of the Frostfall.