The Retreat

"Take the low road, take the high, o'er the old way, by and by, to brave which one, to live or die? Take the low road, take the high." Folk tune, Unknown Author

Xord, The Iron Forest

Petra didn’t notice when her black horse stopped. She still clung to his back, feeling like she was still bolting forwards chaotically towards the unknown. She was shaking. 

Minutes turned to moments, and soon enough Petra felt something cold grasp her arm and yank her from the horse’s seat. She half-yelped as the person covered her mouth with his bare palm, and she fell unceremoniously on her a*s. Petra brought her hand up to try to pull the the hairy forearm from her mouth when the man’s gauntlet let go of her arm and smacked her behind her head.

“Shut up, or do you want to be killed?” The man’s hushed words were squeezed through a thick and raspy voice. “Now, if I let you go, promise not to scream. Alright?”

Petra nodded her head vigorously, and felt the hand fall away after a moment’s thought. She turned her head slowly.

“Eee-” The man’s hand clamped over her mouth as the young woman started to scream again. His red-white face crumpled up as he sighed, his one functioning eye closed as he shook his head. Burn marks stretched across his face, clearing a line where the black hair had been singed away on his right side of his scalp. The skin crinkled and sunk down around his nonexistent right eye, like it had rotted away. His throat was black and red.

“I told you not to-” The man’s hand fell away as he fell into a fit of coughing, with brilliantly red blood spattering onto the grey forest floor. “I told you not to scream. There’s still Leori in these woods, Petra.”

Petra couldn’t speak for a moment. “How do you know my name? Who the hell are you?” She finally burst out, more forcefully than she had imagined.

The man’s malformed face stretched into a look of genuine hurt. “Petra… its me.” His voice struggled to get through his maimed throat.

“I don’t know you.” Petra backed up, coming up against Raven’s flank. The horse snorted his indifference.

“Petra…” He looked into the white-haired girl’s eyes. He gulped. “Halvr.”

The young woman’s eyes widened. The maimed face finally took on all characteristics of her uncle- the short bush of black hair, the gentle brown eyes behind drooping eyelids, his jutting, square jaw. How could she have not seen it? Petra covered her own mouth this time, her breath coming in shudders that stung her eyes, but it was not until the man had wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close did she cry. The tears fell over his bad shoulder.

“Come, come my little flower.” His voice was broken, yet soft. “It’s nothing to cry about. Just a burn, is all.”

Petra couldn’t stop if she wanted to. Her chest shook violently as she remembered the raid at the village. They were burning, too.

“Halvr! Halvr, did you come this way? Say something will you?” A woman’s voice was accompanied by a familiarly loud stumbling. Through blurry eyes, Petra could only see the outline of the woman’s muddied dress as she staggered out of the underbrush. Her bun had deteriorated into a frizzy tangle of brown hair.  “Petra!” Roma kneeled down in front of Petra’s blurry vision, her thin hands cupped around the girl’s face. “Oh, my girl are you alright?”

Halvr slowly let Petra fall back to her knees. Her eyes found focus again as the last of the salty droplets fell. “Where…?” Petra trailed off, her focus caught by Halvr’s flame-licked face once more. She then remembered herself, and straightened up, rubbing her eyes on the back of her hand. “Where did you guys come from?” She asked as she stood. That was weak. She could hear Kotor’s admonition already. Wolf-kin were not weak.

“We had to flee from the south fire. The ambushers scared off our pack horse, but its easier to sneak out on a small steed like Raven regardless.” Halvr patted a bag on his side. “I’ve some provisions, and now that we have a mount we don’t have to carry our luggage. Hiro has it with him. Roma, go get him. We need to stay together.” Roma nodded, and sadly smiled at Petra one time before stumbling away again.

“Hiro?” Petra recalled the Gith boy. He was slightly older than her, of mixed race- half Urman, half wolf-kin. Petra did not know him well. He didn’t talk much, and rarely mustered the courage to speak to the sister of the Alpha. 

“Yes, he’s to come with us, by my nephew’s orders.” Halvr pushed aside some of Petra’s hair. “You’re bleeding.”

She was. Petra now noticed the sticky, dizzying-warm feeling along the back of her ear, and felt it drip onto her shoulder. “Oh.” She must have hit her head while riding.

Halvr’s gauntlet pulled open the tab on his bag as he retrieved a length of cloth and and a small bottle of liquor. He drained half the bottle onto the bandage, and offered the other half to Petra. She held it in her hand dumbly as her head was wrapped. Raven stepped a few feet forwards, foraging for more suitable grass.

“There was a spy.” Halvr spoke quietly, his raspy voice almost lost to the swishes of the trees. His tone was grave as his burns. “The Leori knew of our attack before we did. They struck first.”

Petra could do nothing but nod. She decided to sip the bottle now. 

“You must be careful, Petra.” Halvr’s good eye implored her. “The Gith are gone, and maybe other tribes as well. I’ve told one of the children to run and send word to the other tribes, but I do not know if he made it. I do not know who to trust anymore.”

Petra nodded again. Halvr coughed blood onto the ground as the rustling sound came back. Hiro emerged first, his brown chest and black pants a stark parallel to the silver-grey forest. His smoky-grey hair was cut short, like a child’s, falling curly to his shoulders. He was thin, and his iron gauntlet was spotted and old. Despite being more than six cycles older and a good hand taller than Petra, he seemed to shrink away before her. Roma followed. They were carrying leathern saddlebags in each hand. Hiro wordlessly drifted over to Raven and began to fix the saddle bags to him. The black Gith made nearly no noise, a shadow. Horses never spooked at him.

Roma walked over to the bleeding girl. “Come, Petra.” The woman said, helping pull Petra to her feet. “We must get out of the Ironwoods.” She turned towards Halvr. “We should make our way to Cobbleton and take the High Road north. We can find a healer for your wounds there.”

The old wolf spat as he stood. “Are you insane, Roma? They’re human…” He staggered, and Roma lunged forwards to steady him before he fell. “S**t…” He croaked.

“See? You won’t survive the hike.” Roma’s voice admonished the big man. She turned towards Petra. “Please. We all have to interact with humans eventually.”

Petra frowned, but eventually nodded. They both propped up Halvr on their both sides, and helped him mount Raven. Hiro had finished attaching the drooping saddlebags. They nodded, and began their walk through the grey woods.

The group trekked in silence for most of the time, Hiro and Petra leading the black horse. The woods echoed their silence. Halvr’s breathing whistled through his throat, every inhale exasperated. The walk took a terribly long time.

They felt the heat of the sun-lamp long before they saw the town.The grey Steelwoods began to diminish, and were replaced with green and yellow grasses. The silver underbrush of the Ironwoods melded into red and blue berry bushes. The sky began to change to an azure hue as the group left the last of the tall trees behind them. The green grass ahead almost immediately gave way to dirt path speckled with black rocks, and, downhill of the path, lay Cobbleton.

The sun-lamp that lit Cobbleton was a verdant star on a tall hill in the distance. Only the faint outline of the tower that held the lamp could be seen beneath it. The city itself lay below in a valley, a blob of large, stone cubes. A small stream ran from the Ironwoods down into the town. The town’s windows were dark, and the moon had almost fallen.

The path was loose and treacherous, but Hiro seemed to find his way perfectly. He took the lead, testing every path his toe before continuing their march downwards. Petra had to calm Raven twice as stones slid from underneath his hooves. Roma walked with her hand on Raven’s flank, steadying Halvr. The small town grew in size, until it was a great conglomeration of stone buildings and cobblestone pathways backlit by the sun-lamp in the distance. Wooden barricades surrounded the town. Their blackened stakes were pointing menacingly towards the Ironwoods. A human leaned on a pole outside of the village, leaning on a steel spear. His half helm had slipped over his eyes, and he was lightly snoring through a wheat-colored beard. The skin on his face had a strange, pink tinge to it.

Hiro stopped, and the whole group looked at the human like rabbits seeing a hawk circling above them. He was thin, but visibly strong. Boiled leather armor with iron studs wrapped around his chest and waist, and brigandine pads hung on his thighs. His spear was sharp, and it glinted in the sunlight. Petra had never seen a human weapon before. It was… disappointing. Humans supposedly made a great variety of unique and weird weaponry, but he was just using a sharpened stick. She had been hoping to at least see a sword.

Roma walked up ahead of the group. “Mm-hmm.” She cleared her throat. The man kept on snoring. “Mm-hmm!” A little louder. 

The man shook his head, the little helmet wiggling on his head as he slowly leaned off of the pole. “Wha? I ain’t asleep.” He said while lifting his helmet up.

His eyes were glazed with sleep as he looked over Roma. “Who’re you?” He blinked a few times, squinting at the strange woman in the ruined dress. “You a traveler? Better be careful. There’s Wolves in these woods…” His eyes slowly pried open as he realized the people behind the strange woman. “Aw, s**t! Oi! We got Wolves at the gate!” He shouted back towards the village.

Roma stepped forwards. “No, wait-”

“Stay back!” The man jabbed his spear at her direction, and the woman yelped as she fell back. Petra was by her side. “You stay back! Oi!” Some lights were ignited inside the stone houses. The village began to awake.

“We won’t harm you!” Roma flinched as the spearman brought the weapon’s steel tip closer.

“Can’t you hear?” He growled. “Get back on that there horse. Leave us be.”

Roma stood again. “We need your help!” She said, more forcefully. She threw her arm back towards the group. “Look at us!”

Hiro was steadying Halvr as he clung to Raven, and Petra’s head wrappings was red and damp. He hesitated. Three older men came jogging from their houses, carrying spades and scythes. “Eric, what is this?” A grizzled man in a black smock asked. He ran his eyes over the wolf-kin group.

“Listen, we need your help.” Roma pleaded to the man. “Our friend is injured. If he does not get medical attention, he will die.”

The man in the black smock glared at them with harsh, grey eyes. He thought for a moment. “Eric, Chris, take their claws.” He finally said. “Jora, check their bags.”

Eric walked up to Petra and held his hand out expectantly. Petra gritted her teeth, then unhinged the clasp near her elbow, letting the black gauntlet fall into the bearded man’s hand. Hiro handed over his dull claw wordlessly, and helped remove Halvr’s. A stout man with a large stomach used his scythe like a cane as he walked over to the saddlebags. He stretched up onto his toes to sift through them, taking a small, glinting object to bring back to the grizzled man. “Found this in their clothes, Grislav. Skyormen craftsmanship.” He held up an iron ring. “Might be its stolen.”

“Let me see that.” Grislav took the ring from the man’s hand and brought it up to his eye. His face lit up with recognition as he brought the ring to his left eye. He stared at Roma. “You… you are the Wolf-King’s ambassador? You bear his crest.”

Roma looked surprised, but just for a moment. Petra was about to speak when Roma stepped forwards. “Yes.” The woman said. “I am Petra, sister of Alpha Kotor and ward of the Gith.” She pointed towards Halvr and Hiro. “These are my escorts, my friend Hiro and my uncle Halvr. She,” Roma looked towards Petra and thought for a moment. “She is… my handmaid. Yes, that’s what she is.” Roma smiled as the man stared hard at the ring again.

“I’d thought the Alpha’s sister was younger.” He said suspiciously. “I remember a Gith trader coming through a while ago. They spoke of Petra as still young, and keen to wield a gauntlet.”

Roma didn’t miss a beat. “The date of my birth is often misspoken due to a recording error. Kotor fixed it in writing, but those in the further tribes never got word.” She smiled through her painted face. “And my handmaid here would often run to the other tribes as my emissary, so they’d confuse our names. Now, may we please see your healer?”

Grislav squinted at Petra, but stepped aside. “Jora, Eric, take ‘em to the doc. Chris and I’ll keep watch.”

“Thank you, sir.” Roma gave a proper curtsey before helping Hiro lead the horse inside.

Petra was about to follow when the man grabbed her shoulder. “You.” He glared at her with one eye. “I don’t know who you or your little princess there are, but you aren’t welcome here. We’ll patch you up, and then you’re on your way. Understand?”

Petra looked at the man’s eyes, and slowly nodded.

“Good.” He pulled his hand away. “Now go see to that head of yours. Looks like you had a nasty trip.”

Author's Note

Once again, comment or criticize. I'm trying to get this world more fleshed out.