Caracara's Hunt 96 New Direction

"Are you going back then?" Sylvester asked with a look in the direction from which they had come.

Arawn also glanced back at the many trees and a lonely road pa.s.sing through them. He could go straight back now that Mutallu was safe and give a.s.sa.s.sination a second chance.

"Go if you want to get captured," Mutallu said without lifting his head from the blade. "The king would certainly be happy."

"What?"

Mutallu lifted the dagger before the sun and examined the way its light reflected on the blade. "Who do you think they are? Amateurs like you? Of course they can guess what you're thinking and prepare accordingly. And this time, you won't catch them unawares by retaining your mind for a little while."

'Retaining my mind…' Arawn winced at that thought. What if he did get forced into changing into a beast and lost control again? All his hopes would get smashed and he might really get caught. As inexperienced as he was, while human, he could avoid obvious traps, but it was not the same for the monster him.

"What do you suggest then?" he asked the kid.

"Let them wait and worry. They want you, so don't give them what they want. The longer they simmer in their uncertainty, the more likely it becomes that they'll make a mistake and give you an opening to get rid of them."

The idea of waiting grated against Arawn's wish for action and immediate freedom, but he could understand Mutallu's point of view. His reasoning had its upsides.

"Once he comes to Mairya, it'll be much easier to reach him anyway," Sylvester added while sitting down on the cart. "There won't be any stone castle, inexhaustible supplies, or reinforcements at his command."

"He's coming here?" Arawn asked with surprise evident in his voice.

Sylvester nodded. "He's declared war on Mairya, and his army will start marching in a week or so. The borders are wild now with people escaping to either side and robbers making a killing. Men are getting rich and losing it all in a span of hours."

"Where are we going then?"

"Away," Sylvester said with a shrug. "I worked for a Mairyan, so Ayersbert is not a good place for me right now. But I'm sure I won't stay unemployed for long."

That was obvious with his abilities, and Arawn nodded while stretching out once more. It was unbelievable how fast he had recovered.

A thought struck him at that moment, and he called to the ether. It jumped at him like a dog that had missed its owner. There was no resistance or reluctance.

As a beast, he couldn't see the ether at all. It might as well not have existed for him. He knew it wasn't just his imagination, but his eyes could not pick up on it. Only when the ether was materialized would it suddenly appear in his vision, blinding him with its cold white light.

Yet once he returned to being human, it was as if nothing had happened. The ether came to him without a problem and did as told.

"Would you mind if I came with you then?" he asked Sylvester.

"And why would you do that?"

"I want to learn to heal, and going with you is better than just hiding in some forest. I could also help you," Arawn said with conviction, but Sylvester only grimaced.

He sized Arawn up and down, then shook his head. "I've never needed an a.s.sistant."

A little taken aback, Arawn didn't know what to say straight away. While he thought about it, Mutallu took the conversation into his own hands. "We're coming with you either way. Whether you use him in the meantime is your personal choice."

"I can refuse," Sylvester said with annoyance on his face. "You're both wanted criminals that the Mairyan king would love to gift to Ayersbert wrapped in a pink bow."

Mutallu sheathed his dagger and gave Sylvester a deadpan look. "I'll slit your throat before you can betray us."

After saying that, he jumped off the back of the cart and began collecting his gear. Once done, he went to bring the horse around.

"Why does Corwal only a.s.sociate with weirdos like you two? I can't even have some peace of mind while running from a mad king." Sylvester sighed and brought both his legs onto the cart to make himself more comfortable. "Wake me up around noon. I'm exhausted."

With those words, he leaned against the side of the cart and closed his eyes. In moments, he was breathing in a steady rhythm of a person traversing a wonderful dream.

Arawn watched him for a moment, then decided to clear up the cart. He pushed the heavy iron cuffs to the side and brought out a blanket to cover Sylvester. It was morning still, and the wind wasn't kind.

"Why are you coming as well?" Arawn asked when Mutallu returned to the cart and called for the horse to start walking.

They were moving at a pace barely faster than a walk, but it couldn't be helped with how heavy the cart was. The horse was already surprisingly strong to pull everything by itself.

"I can't return to Crimson Treason with the king looking for me, and your friend's got a useful occupation. No one will look at me with him around."

Arawn nodded as if he understood and they rode in silence after that. He knew that doctors were highly valued, but weren't they looked down upon because they weren't fighters? Why would then Mutallu's presence not catch attention? He was not only a foreigner, but also a highly skilled combat mage.

They didn't stop to eat lunch nor dinner, and by the evening, they caught up to the rest of the mansion's servants. The runaways were extremely weary of Mutallu who had been traveling with a beast, so they were forced to make camp away from others.

It didn't bother the boy though, and Arawn realized that he didn't want to go over either. As he sat staring at the fire once the sun set, all he wanted was to go to sleep and not bother with any niceties. It was too much effort to go out of his way to befriend someone.

So despite the many looks aimed at him, he simply prepared his blanket and rolled into it to sleep. Yet before he could enter the dreamland, he heard whispering in the trees nearby.

Someone had called Sylvester away from the camp and was trying to reason with him. "... shouldn't go there. I know that kid helped us, but he's dangerous. Did you see how he wielded that knife? Despite his injuries, he killed three soldiers by himself! That's abnormal!"

"Orwin, it's fine. I know those kids. They're children of a friend of mine and would never hurt me," Sylvester said in a calm and pleasant voice. There was not a hint of the annoyance he had showed to Mutallu earlier in the day.

"But Doctor Otshoa! It's weird how they appeared right when you needed their help, isn't it? We're all worried about your safety. Please, won't you reconsider going with us?" the man pleaded.

Sylvester sighed and put his hand on the man's shoulder. "Orwin, do you remember what happened when I just came to work for the Katalans?" The man reluctantly nodded, and Sylvester smiled at him. "Then trust me once more. I knew what I was doing back then, and I do so now."

He chuckled lightly. "If not, I grant you permission to come haunt me next life."

Orwin barked out a laugh with a shake of his head. "I'd rather not, so I hope you're right. If something goes wrong, you can look for us in the South Wind Manor."

"I'll keep that in mind. You be careful as well. There's no telling what King Bretan will come up with in desperation."

"He'll look for someone to sacrifice, I'm sure of that," Orwin said with disgust and spit on the side. "We'll warn the manor and have it enter lockdown to keep everyone safe. But the gates will always remain open for you."

"I know. Thanks. Now go to sleep. A long journey awaits you tomorrow."

The two separated then, and Sylvester brought his things next to where Arawn slept. All he had was a medicinal box and a small bag with his blanket and a change of clothes.

While he prepared to go to sleep, Arawn raised himself on his hands and motioned with his head to where Sylvester had spoken with the older man. "Your friend?"

"He thinks so," Sylvester said while disturbing the embers of the fire so they released a wave of heat at him.

"But not you?"

Sylvester glanced at him with a strange expression. He looked both tired and resolute, which was an unusual combination for him. "Can you be friends with someone who knows nothing about you?"

It was a question Arawn pondered till he fell asleep. The next morning, he woke up with the sun on his face and feeling ready to face anything the day had to offer. He rolled out of his blanket and packed it up before taking his change of clothes and locating a nearby river.

Its stream was pretty strong and water ice cold, but Arawn braved it for the sake of cleanliness. He was covered in dried up blood and dirt like some street urchin, and that wasn't a good look if he wanted to meet anyone.

By the time he scrubbed himself clean and washed his clothes, his companions had woken up as well. Sylvester gave him a dark look and yawned wide. There were dark circles around his eyes as if he hadn't rested much.

Mutallu pulled out dried jerky from his pack when one of the women from the mansion approached them with a small pot of soup. It was quite thin, but Arawn would have taken anything warm at that moment. The dip in the freezing river had left him cold to the bones.

His obvious joy surprised the woman, but she soon smiled back at him and poured him a full bowl. He thanked her profusely and dug into his meal with gusto. While Mutallu was only getting his portion, Arawn placed the bowl down and closed his eyes in satisfaction. It had been exactly what he needed to make his morning perfect.

"You've got a good appet.i.te." The woman laughed while picking up the bowl, Arawn thanked her again for the meal.

When she went away, he packed up his stuff and put it into the cart before doing a few stretches to exercise his newly grown muscles. They were still a little sore, but already better than the day before. Soon, he would be able to forget that anything had even happened.

Once the whole group set out, they soon reached a crossroads. There were three roads leading in different directions, and everyone else from the mansion picked the middle one.

"Left," Sylvester said when they got close to the fork. "We're going to Lord Bernard. It's his lucky day to hire me."