Hellrien could see the stables across the street through the dusty window of the vault. She was sipping mulled wine from a large mug. She had black circles under her eyes and her face appeared strained. She kept touching up her weapons all the time.
Suddenly she heard horse’s hooves clip-clopping against the cobblestones. The Greenway Trading Company carts were arriving. There were two carts with their drivers and three company guards sitting in the back of each cart. All were armed. A few more company workers were walking behind the carts.
Hellrien finished her drink and ambled outside. Red sun was hanging low above the rooftops. It shone hazily through the morning mist.
The carts drove into the stables and their drivers and guards jumped off. Sharp commands rang out in the cool morning air. Four company workers walked into the vault and a minute later came out carrying heavy chests. Two men were required to carry each chest. They loaded the chests into the carts and returned to the vault to fetch more. The carts were closed and had no windows, only doors in the back. When the last chests had been loaded the six company guards climbed up to the back of the carts, and their mates outside handed them their weapons and kits.
That’s it then, Hellrien mused. She had reloaded the chamber of her pipe six times already this morning and her throat felt dry. She looked at the sun. It was almost time.
A tall, broad-shouldered man appeared next to Hellrien. It was Taraborn. They nodded at each other.
”Mornin’, Hellrien”, he said.
”Looks like everything’s about ready here”, Hellrien said, glancing at Tara. The mercenary was incredibly tall and fit-looking. His armor was old but well-kept. It looked like he was wearing a sturdy leather armor with some steel plate pieces over a chainmail and a tight-fitting helmet under a hood. The armor was sturdy but not too heavy. On his back he had an extraordinarily beautiful two-handed sword. His appearance and name denoted Gondorian origin, but Hellrien didn’t think the matter had even been brought up between them. ”How do you think we should go about this? I was thinking I would ride in front of the first cart.”
”I’ll ride at the rear then. Keeps both ends covered.”
Hellrien nodded. The drivers climbed on their seats. Doors were slammed shut.
”All aboard… we’re leaving!”
”Shall we mount up?” Tara asked.
”Alright… here we go. Let’s hope for an uneventful journey!”
”Oh, I don’t know”, Tara said dryly. ”I’m always up for a bit of fun.”
Hellrien looked as the mercenary mounted his horse. She started walking towards her own mount. Before mounting up she threw a glance over her shoulder. Some of Cole’s porters were waving at the carters. She could see nothing suspicious happening on the street.
Hellrien mounted up and steered her horse to the front of the caravan.
Hellrien’s thoughts were a jumbled mess and her head was full of questions. Her mind kept replaying the conversation she had had with Cole in the Prancing Pony. What was the merchant gotten himself involved with? What was in those chests? She had no answers, only questions.
The caravan rattled along the cobbled street through the West Gate and out of Bree. Dewy trees and ridges glimmered in the morning sun. Soon they crossed the Greenway and the bridge. Maybe an hour later they could see the remnants of some old fortification looming behind the trees to their left. Thin lines of clouds wandered westwards.
It seemed like it was going to be a beautiful day.
Memories of Cole kept surfacing Hellrien’s mind stubbornly. That night in the shop… Cole had loved her the only way she could understand and respond to. There was warmth in Cole, and Hellrien could savor the warmth and fond memories of nights like those, when there were no strings attached to them. Was that why she had agreed to carry on with the contract, even when she knew there was a lot Cole wasn’t telling her? Did she feel like she owed him something?
Hellrien lit her pipe. The Great East Road slithered endlessly through the verdant countryside. Carts kept swinging back and forth. The monotonous rattle of cartwheels penetrated her consciousness. Each slam brought her closer to something ominous and dangerous. She was sure of that. Ever since that night with Cole she had had this feeling. Something would happen on this journey. But what?
The ruins to their left made Hellrien nervous, and she kept touching up the hilt of her sword. That was the wall the brigands had been hiding behind the last time. Who knows what was happening on the other side?
Hellrien looked at the sun. It was late morning, almost noon. Soon they would stop for a break to rest the horses, eat something and check the situation.
Tall sedges waved in gentle breeze. Farther in the coppice some wild animals fled into the cover of the trees. The rattling of the caravan had scared them. Or maybe something else? Maybe a host of brigands behind that damned wall? Awaiting them with nocked arrows. Soon they would hear a sharp command, and then a rain of arrows would fall upon them… shouts of horses and men, clatter and crashing when the carts would fall and break apart, shrieks of agony and death… and then – silence… death… only quiet whirring of a cartwheel spinning in the air…
Hellrien stirred awake from her imaginings. The sun was shining, and the clouds kept going west… as did they. Tall oaks and ash trees passed by. Then the carter behind her shouted a signal, brakes screeches and the carts jerked and stopped.
Hellrien nodded at two of the guards. She knew they would remain guarding the caravan. She dismounted and craned her neck to see Tara in the rear end. Most of Cole’s employees seized the opportunity to stretch their legs. Hellrien made haste over to Tara.
”Everything alright in your end?” she asked.
”Everything’s good fer me. Yerself?”
”Yeah, nothing out of the ordinary. We can stop to have a bite and chat a bit.”
”Sounds good”, Tara nodded.
Hellrien walked over towards a big oak tree in the sedges, and Taraborn followed.
”There are bears in these woods, so watch out!” Hellrien warned before sitting down, leaning her back against the tree. Taraborn followed her example, pulling off his helmet with a content smile.
”Will do.”
Hellrien took her hat off and started rummaging through her bag to find something to eat.
”So, Tara”, she said for conversation’s sake, ”how long have you been with the Dawn?”
”Just under a year”, he said, giving a vague shrug. ”Yerself?”
”Less than that… half a year, maybe? Time flies so fast, and I’m no good at keeping track of it. How did you join, and why?”
”Well I do this sort o' work normally, it were easier doin' it as part o' a company than alone.”
Hellrien took a bite of bread and started chewing slowly and ponderously. ”Where are you from, originally?” she asked. She was pretty sure Tara was a Gondorian, but it was more difficult to guess which part.
”Minas Tirith, yerself?” he replied after swallowing down a bite of his own bread.
”Ah, Gondor! I was born there myself... in Pelargir. What brought you north, Tara?”
”Just travel. Looking for work and fun. Yerself?”
”My father sent me away when I was about... twelve, maybe? Somewhere around there. He was a noble, y'see, and I was born out of wedlock. A daughter of a servant.”
”Ah… noble folk, bunch of stuck up twats if ye ask me.”
”Amen to that”, Hellrien said bitterly. ”Why did you want to become a soldier?”
”Just wha' I could do. Father were a swordsmith, but I could never do it. Better with the swords than hammer.”
The workers and guards climbed on the wagons and the carters took their seats behind the horses. Hellrien climbed up to her feet.
”Breaks over, it seems. We need to get going. We should reach Adso’s camp by dark”, she said.
”Seems good”, Taraborn said, pulling his helmet on. They made their way back towards their horses. Soon the caravan was on it’s way again.
