Chapter 2: Dark Journey
The next morning's sun shone brightly from the sky, illuminating the
grounds as servants loaded baggage on top of a huge, black coach. Ten
mounted cavalry men waited in formation, their red tunics ruffled
slightly by the sea-breeze. Prince Korvos and Racius stood idly by,
watching the slow progression of bags, suitcases, and other containers.
Princess Theguis busied herself making sure that all her bags were
properly placed.
"We're not moving there, your Royal Princess," barbed Racius to the
Princess as she shot back a momentary glare at him, before returning to
her work.
Wearing a towering stovepipe hat, perhaps in order to compensate for
his squat and frog-faced appearance, the coachman approached the duo.
"Good day lords, I am Cilea, your humble coachman," garbled Cilea
through a mouth of ruined teeth. "The road to Korath can be quite dark
and perilous, but never fear, I shall convey you safely through. Unless
the wolves are out, of course. Then I make no promises." He finished
with an ugly chortle that made the hair on the back of Racius' neck
stand up.
"We are at your capable hands," said Korvos pleasantly. "Although I'm
afraid that we may not be able to start today." He said the last a bit
louder, which prompted a "harrumph" from Princess Theguis. But it was
only a few minutes later that all the baggage was safely stored away.
"You never know what situations you'll run into," explained the
Princess. "Royalty must be ready for any occasion."
"So which outfit do you wear when attacked by wolves?" asked Racius
innocently as he helped Theguis aboard the coach.
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The group
started, with the coach leading the way for the cavalry. As the coach
traveled through the countryside, its occupants looked out to see the
model of a happy and prosperous land. Peasants tilled their farms,
children ran about, passing travelers exchanged warm words. But as the
coach crossed the border into Korath, the mood started changing
dramatically. The land became one of jagged peaks and valleys, an
overcast sky hiding much of the ruined land. A light rain started to
fall, accompanied by a howling wind that seemed to carry the lone
baying of a wolf.
Prince Korvos and the others were awakened from a nap as the coach
screeched to a halt. Korvos stepped outside and saw that a fallen tree
had blocked the road. "A momentary delay, if those strapping young men
can lend a hand in removing it," suggested Cilea.
"Of course. Guards, remove the tree," ordered Prince Korvos as he stood
outside. Although it had stopped raining, a cold wind still swept
through the area, and occasional lightning flashes starkly illuminated
their surroundings.
"Good day to you sirs," greeted a figure as he stepped out from behind
a tree not 15 feet in front of Prince Korvos. The raggedly dressed
ruffian had an air of menace about him. "I see you are traveling
through my road. You may not know, but there is a tax to be paid."
"And who might you be, sir?" asked the Prince while fingering his
sheathed rapier. Already he could tell that other figures lurked behind
various bits and pieces of cover. Perhaps a dozen on this side of the
road, certainly twice that number of common bandit would not stand a
chance against thirteen Alberothian cavalrymen.
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