Lesson 31: Your Best Defense Is a Good Offense

The following morning was somber, and at dawn, they set out again to follow the footsteps of their comrades. Grielle couldn't help nodding off against Benedikt's back, but it wasn't for long as their lumbering horse stumbled over the uneven terrain.

"Didn't sleep well?" he asked.

"One night in a proper bed and I'm suddenly incapable of sleeping on the ground." Grielle sighed, her head lolling on her shoulders. A violent wind whipped through the pass, cutting through her clothes. It nipped her skin with an icy chill. She shivered. "How far north are we?"

"Whitefox lets out to the Northeast of Stalvart, but this feels a little colder than home."

"I like it," Grielle smiled into Benedikt's shoulder and snuggled up closer to his back. "I like you."

Benedikt laughed. "Of course."

She hoped she would be able to love him as he loved her. Perhaps she did. But after falling for a man like Henrik she would need time to trust him...and herself.

The wind picked up as they moved deeper into the pass, and soon it whipped snowflakes at Grielle's raw face. By the time the sun dipped behind the jagged, snow-laden peaks of the Sturmback range, her legs ached both from the cold and from riding a packhorse without a saddle.

"This wind..." Talitha said breathlessly from the horse behind them. "It's most disconcerting."

"How?" Yorick replied, his voice nearly lost in the howl of the wind.

"I think it is meant to deter us. Don't you feel it? Close your eyes," Talitha commanded.

"All I feel is cold," Yorick snipped.

"And what else?"

"I can't decide if it's the horse or what, but I smell something foul."

"Focus on that," Talitha suggested over the wind.

"Whoa," Yorick exclaimed, causing Grielle to turn around. His body shook with a rippling shudder and his dark eyes were wide with terror.

"What is it?" Grielle eyed her brother with concern.

Yorick shook his head and pressed the heel of his hand to his brow. "The rotting smell on the air. I focused on the smell when my head grew cloudy and I felt... anger."

"That is wonderful, Yorick," Talitha said with a smile. "Well, it's not exactly wonderful that someone doesn't want us heading through the pass, but you just detected Withering Magic."

"Great," he replied sarcastically. "Somebody else wants us dead."

"I think they're hoping we'll turn around," Talitha said.

~

With dusk descending across the sky, they came to a halt. Grielle tightened her arms around Benedikt, not ready to leave his side yet for a sleeping roll on the cold ground.

"We haven't reached the far side of the ravine yet. I wonder if they found—" Grielle's head reeled as she wondered what had caused Reyn and Talitha to stop prematurely; they usually didn't make camp until dark.

Benedikt urged the horse forward, navigating to the front of the riding party where his father would be. The ravine curved to the left and opened to a wide valley below. The trail through Whitefox continued along the mountainside. It skirted the snow-covered valley and continued to the northeast.

The opening of the ravine and its majestic views of the range didn't shock Grielle. It was what stood deep in the valley that caught her by surprise. Surrounded by the jagged tops of pine groves, a stone castle stood in the shadow of a mountain's peak. A shiver snaked its way down her spine.

"Oh," she breathed. Her instincts pricked at her insides — the tiny voices in the back of her head that told her when to hold her ground, and when to run.

Her legs were practically itching to run.

Benedikt swung down from their mount and found his father standing at the cliffside. Grielle followed close behind.

King Sander's narrowed eyes watched the castle. Grielle turned to try to see what he did. She watched for signs of movement — signs of danger.

"Do you think our scouts might have ventured into the valley?" Benedikt asked his father.

King Sander ducked his chin with a beleaguered sigh. "I hope not."

"Do you know this place?" Grielle asked. She wasn't sure what it was, but the valley sent her skin crawling.

"The men call that the Fell Forest. In the days of King Oryn it was a stronghold of witches — and not the good kind. Witherwitches," King Sander said.

"They're gone now?" Benedikt asked hopefully.

"I thought so..." he replied, scrubbing his beard with a rough hand. "Oryn drove them into the far north where they have been banished since."

Grielle folded her arms to hold back a shudder. "What are your orders? We should probably make camp on the mountainside. No fires. As little noise as possible... we could send scouts into the valley before dawn."

A wry smile spread beneath King Sander's beard as he glanced between Grielle and Benedikt. "It sounds like I don't need to give orders. I trust you will notify everyone?"

Benedikt nodded and turned to spread the order through the ranks.

The warriors huddled up to the towering mountainside, eager to find any relief from the relentless wind. Grielle found the Liberators setting up their sleeping rolls together.

"Listen," she said, waving them over. "In that valley out there is something called the Fell Forest. We need to be as quiet as possible tonight while we camp here. Before dawn's light, we are sending scouts in to see if they can find signs of the men. If they can't find them, we continue on our course."

The others nodded solemnly.

"Whatever you need from us," Talitha offered in her low voice as she twisted her auburn hair into a knot on her head.

"Well, I didn't mean you. The king will send scouts—" Grielle began, but Reyn cut her off.

"This place is rich with Withering Magic. We need Yorick and Talitha...not more bumbling warriors crashing through the mountains," she growled. Reyn had been in a perpetual state of disagreement since they left Njord, and Grielle hesitated to argue.

"All right, but then I need the cohesive team I know we can be. We can't be bickering like this." Grielle cut Ludvig an apprehensive look. A heavy silence fell over the shivering band.

Ludvig stood up and crossed to meet her. She pressed her brows together as she noted the worried look in Ludvig's eyes. He pushed his windswept blonde hair off his face before he spoke. "We need to talk, then. Reyn, you can inform the king of our plans."

Grielle nodded with her shoulders pushed back. Ludvig left the others behind and she followed as he walked away from the camp.

"I heard the fight you had with Reyn," Grielle said once she was sure the others wouldn't overhear.

Ludvig groaned. "Yeah. She wants me to stay out of your personal business."

"Well, I don't want you staying out of my business if that means you sulking like a petulant child and avoiding me," Grielle retorted.

"You know my opinion on the matter," Ludvig replied gruffly.

"I know what you think. That I am in danger for wanting to be with him. That I am going to get hurt. The only thing I don't know is why." Grielle pulled her cloak closer as she spoke.

The mountains were much colder without the sun's rays to alleviate the chill of the endless wind. She could tell Ludvig was considering something with great care. His lips were pressed into a thin line. "It's who you are. Where you come from."

"My father?"

"Your mother."

Grielle's breath hitched. "Do you mean to tell me you know something about my mother that you've kept from me?"

Ludvig's gaze fell to his feet. "Yes," he sighed. "I suppose you are old enough to know. Your father trusted me with this, to share with you once I felt you were ready."

Grielle's heart was racing as she took in each of Ludvig's words with a deep hunger. She had assumed the identity of her mother had died with her father. Could her mother be alive? She had never let herself dare to hope as much until now. "Did you know her?" She heard the tremor in her voice.

"No, but I've heard the stories," Ludvig said, a smile flicking over his lips. "From what I can tell, she was the kindest woman our realm has ever seen. Beautiful too."

"Was?" Grielle felt a knot well in her throat. "She is really dead?"

Ludvig nodded. "Yes, but that isn't what I was hiding. It was who she was...a queen. The Queen of Dankert."

Grielle felt suddenly dizzied. "My father, the thief... and the Queen of Dankert..." Grielle stammered, her brain reeling with questions. "So that makes me—"

"A princess."