of the snowball war she'd been through the previous night.
Hopefully Rusga is doing better, she thought as she quietly prepared her equipment and wolfed down the cold eggs and sausage.
In the next room, Rusga didn't have long to get ready either. Kunya had already been over to inform the warriors of their imminent departure and the catfolk awoke rather roughly. Not content to wait for someone, the pair worked together to ensure they could leave on time. Algan sorted through Rusga's belongings and packed them for the day, finishing by preparing a plate for him, and Riun did the waking by picking the catfolk up by the ankles and hanging him upside down for a minute. When he didn't wake, Riun then shook him by the feet until his eyes opened.
“Oh god what's happening?!” Rusga cried as he was suddenly shaken to his senses. “Put me down!” He clawed ineffectively at whatever was holding him only to realize a minute later that it was one of his companions.
“Good, you're awake. Get ready. Algan packed your things.” the tribesman said, pointing to a corner of the room and setting Rusga down on the chair roughly. Not being fully coherent, Rusga landed half on the chair and half on the floor.
“Urgh… did you need to be so rough? I'm delicate and grumpy and hungry.” He was displeased until he spotted the tray of breakfast on the table nearby. “Did you two save that for me?” The pair nodded and snickered.
“Took you long enough. Your bag is ready so all you have to do is eat and we can go. The caravan that's paying us to tag along is leaving soon so don't take forever,” Algan said, resting against the far wall and watching the door expectantly. As if on cue, the three from the next room entered and stood near the doorway.
“We are ready now,” Kunya said, observing the interior. Rusga had just finished and was grooming the fur around his mouth for crumbs. “It seems that you are as well, good. Let us be off.” The six left the inn together, Kunya depositing a gold coin on the service counter along the way, and hustled outside. The snow forts from the previous night were still there and the two animalfolk eyed each other before looking away in a hurry. The market district was some ways away and the walk there took about two minutes up a straight street.
The caravan employed both elves and humans because of the connection between the nations. The wagons, some two meters tall and beautifully weathered from countless treks through the sun, were made of cedar wood and still held onto a hint of their fragrance. There were no fewer than a half dozen of them lined up in the marketplace, a few still being loaded with crates of goods and supplies for the journey. One of them, a human wearing a full suit of plate mail, noticed the group approaching.
“Hail! What is your business with the Silver Flyer?” he said, holding a hand out to stop them.
“The Silver Flyer?” Kunya asked, mildly puzzled.
“That’s the name of this caravan. We are the fastest march in the kingdom and the most reliable purveyor of trade between the nations of Darminia, the human lands, and Lorethwyn, the elven stronghold. I am its chief officer, Darwin Farstride.”
“Ah, then you are who we are seeking.” She opened a scroll case, pulling a sheet of parchment from within and presenting it to the human. “One of my party sought employment with a Mr. Farstride and brought me this slip as proof of contract.” The sheet bore a sigil of an eagle in silver ink that matched a similar, if faded, emblem on the sides of the wagons. Additionally were signatures, those of Mr. Farstride and of Kunya, near the bottom. In the middle were explained the terms of employment with the caravan: that the employed party would guard the trade goods from potential raiders, that the term of employment would last from the time the caravan left Taft until its arrival in Deswern – the elven town – that food and drink would be rationed and provided along the way, and that payment would be provided at the end of the travel. The wizard passed off the contract to Mr. Farstride and waited. A nod confirmed the deal.
“Very well, Kunya. This contract is binding and in effect from this moment forward until arrival in Deswern. If you’ve any supplies you need to gather do so now; the loading of our goods will take only a few more minutes. Make haste.” The man turned about and rejoined his caravan, directing where to place goods.
None of the group felt unprepared, though Kida did take a few minutes to examine her handiwork from the night before. It held up fairly well thanks to the cold air and lack of wind, and was mostly intact save where it appeared that some children had used it for their own wintry battles. She smirked, glad that someone else had made use of it. Algan, Riun, and Rusga sharpened their blades and examined them for imperfections or damage, waving Kunya over when a pockmark or dent in the edge was spotted so that the wizard could repair it. She did so willingly as she was bored and felt it a good exercise while waiting for the last of the cargo to be loaded. Mr. Farstride marched over after not more than five minutes, waving the party to stand.
“We’re ready to leave now,” he stated, moving past them toward the front of the line. “Move out! Let’s make some good time today!” he added in a projected voice as reins snapped and horses began to move the wagons toward the town gates. The sun was high in the eastern sky and the air crisp, a perfect start to the day for the Silver Flyer.
The cobblestone road made for a relatively smooth ride since the kingdom’s maintenance crews were paid well to keep them level. The steady hoofbeats against the stones made Kida and Xron drowsy since they were unaccustomed to travel by horse. Algan and Riun, not comfortable with sitting for such an extended period, regularly walked alongside the wagons and sat down on them every hour or so. Rusga felt more at home in the brush surrounding the road and stayed in the shrubs and undergrowth some distance away. Midday approached swiftly and some five kilometers away from the town, well out of its sight, the wagons circled around each other and came to a halt.
“Ready the lunch! You six, keep an eye out while it’s prepared. We don’t want any unwelcome guests coming after us,” Farstride barked. His underlings, mostly human, moved about the encampment and fetched supplies to fix the meal. The remainder, elves, climbed atop the wagons to keep a lookout. Kida joined Rusga in the nearby woods and the pair climbed a tall tree to watch from there. The aroma of fire-roasted meats and fresh vegetables coaxed them from their perch however, and they were soon close to the cook and waiting for the meal to come. Fortunately, Xron also favored a tree to keep the sun from his sensitive eyes, and kept watch in their place.
“Do you see anything up there?” Kunya asked from the base of the dark elf’s post. “I doubt we will have any trouble this close to town but you never know.”
“No. It’s also better here than on the ground. Less sunlight,” he replied tersely. Clearly he wasn’t the sociable type of elf, and he continued to keep himself completely covered to conceal his identity. While the humans might not care, the elves certainly would object due to their blood feud. Kunya got the hint and moved back toward the camp.
“What’s up with him?” Algan questioned as he sharpened a couple of daggers with a whetstone. The grinding of metal was a somewhat pleasant sound to the wizard as she’d never used blades beyond the simplest of training as a girl.
“I am not certain. Perhaps the elves bother him, since he is what he is,” Kunya replied in a whisper. “Dark elves do not usually get along with surface elves, and the two races are at best suspicious of each other. There also seems to be more shade under the cover of the pine branches than there is down here and sunlight bothers him.”
“Tch. Maybe he should open up to us,” the warrior retorted, waiting for his meal. “There's no reason for him to be suspicious or distrustful.”
“It is difficult to understand his position since we are human. Dark elves are usually evil by nature and for him to have overcome that and escaped his former homeland deep in the earth has probably made him cynical at best. Give him time and I am sure he will come to like us.”
“I'll go talk to him!” Kida said excitedly, listening from behind the two humans with wide ears. They turned to face Kida, almost as if to ask how long the kitsu had been there. “He seems lonely a lot of the time, you know? Maybe he's waiting for someone to come to him