The Thrice-Ninth Kingdom VII

Before noon of the 7th day, inside Stribor's Brugh

You wake up a few hours later. The Rusalki are still lying where they had fallen and it smells of sweat and blood and woodsmoke. The flautist has brought you porridge with winter berries. He has one arm around Sir Milos and gestures with the other at white fur coats and matching gloves that lay before the hearth. “A present from my master. He told me to inform you that your offer has been rejected and that you should leave as soon as possible.” He observes the sleeping Rusalki and smiles uneasily. ”He has ordered his servants to fill your mare's saddlebags with provisions and he considers his oath of hospitality to be fulfilled. He cannot vouch for your safety any more.“ He gets up and holds out his hands for the Fox Knight. “Make haste. They won't sleep forever.”

Sir Milos, the Fox Knight

Milos takes his hands and brings his forehead to Mariusz's. He says softly "Thank you for offering a warm embrace in this infernally cold place. Your artistry is truly sublime and I pray your bargain continues to serve you well." He places a firm kiss on his mouth and then releases him to turn to his friends "We have gained much here and escaped surprisingly unscathed. We should depart at once and not look back."

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Beyond the hall of the Rusalki, Perilake leans in to Sivka. "Does your king desire an audience with us, Sivka? Would it aid our joint cause or merely be distraction?" He glances at the alien horizon around them. "The Rusalki will hunt you and us soon, horse. They will sacrifice by force what they could not win by bargain." "Wherever we go, do you know where we might defend ourselves or where the Rusalki will not dare follow?"

Sivka

Referee

Sivka nickers softly. Her saddlebags are bulging and there is a bundle of dry wood on her back. “When the Rusalki smell blood they fear nothing, in their frenzy they will follow you into conflagration. On horse back they will outrun you, maybe the mountains will slow them down. To the north is a river that they can't cross but neither can we before we find the bridge. They won't dare defy the King but Castle Frost is far away.” She sniffs the air. Lazy snowflakes are slowly falling. “They are stirring in their sleep.”

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

Soon after departing the brugh, the knights pause in a snow-covered meadow. Perilake confers again with the mare in earnest tones, as the others look on with concern. The horse nuzzles his ear and the Gilded Knight looks back towards his friends and nods grimly.

Sir Milos, the Fox Knight

The company climbs a narrow path up into the mountains to the East. Milos turns and faces back toward where they have come, toward the dire threat of pursuit. He raises his left hand and looks through his fingers at the clouds that have been steadily dropping a soft snow on them. The ivory ring stirs and a distinct chill climbs up his arm. A harsh wind screams down the mountain pass, the clouds darken and roil angrily in response. As he turns to face his friends, a wild light plays in the Fox Knight’s eyes. “That should slow their progress and conceal any signs of our passage. For now.

Referee

Far in the east lighting illuminates the dark clouds, single strikes first and and long pauses between them, then more coming in quick succession and spreading over the sky like spiderwebs. Much later the low growl of thunder echoes between the mountains.

Ser Perilake, as you approach the mouth of the cave you see something moving under the surface of the frozen lake that is clear as glass and smooth as a mirror, a face looking down at you as if you were below it, a young man with long straight hair and wearing a tunic the colour of frosted haze and a lushly decorated chamber behind him, peacock feathers and velvet curtains. Although you can't hear the words you can read them on his lips: “Find me, papa!” He looks over his shoulder and the ice shatters and there is only dark water below.

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

His hand stretches out to the dark water, his mind whirling, before the fingers clench into a fist. Perilake steps to Sivka's side and begins unburdening the mare. "We will shelter here for the night, and if the storm does not cover our trail, we will fight them here too." He pulls the saddlebags of provisions on to his shoulder, passing the other to Zoltan. He looks into the mare's deep eyes. "Sivka, the Rusalki will certainly catch us on foot. But though you may be old, you are still swift, and you are wise." "This may be your chance to escape the Rusalki's blades, which hunger for you most of all. Whilst the storm rages, you might run to the King, free of our slow steps. If the Rusalki find a trail at all, they will find us - and our swords. I would not have any companion, beast or man, butchered for sport." Perilake rests a hand on the mare's muzzle. "And you may bring a message to your master; The Elf not only has my Son, he has made him a vessel for his ambitions against the Winter Court." "I will not serve anything other than those I love. But I swear I will take my son from Coredis, from Tizra, from any who would keep him from me. And I know this serves the King. Take this message to your master, and if he wishes to retain his throne, return to me - with steeds for my brothers all. And we will ride on Coredis."

Referee

The mare flicks her ears back and forth while you speak, listening with her eyes closed. She bows her head in submission or resignation and snorts softly:

 “Vesper will lead them, her head a raven's and wielding a sceptre, warning everyone in their way to flee. Stribor will follow, his head a wolf's and with eyes of glowing ember. And then comes a warband of wild Fae on their steeds and bloodhounds between them.” 

When she opens her eyes there is a fire you haven't seen before and she shakes her mane proudly. “One cannot outrun a storm nor the Wild Hunt” she whinnies and it sound like laughter”... but there are still those in the Realm who serve the King. Your message will be delivered.” Sivka lightly touches your face with her nostrils and turns around and is swallowed by the darkness. You hear her hooves thumping the ground for a little longer until it is drowned out by the sound of thunder.

A Cave in the Mountains

Sir Heldris the Dove Knight

Deep within the cave, the knights start a feeble fire to avoid unwanted attention from outside. The Pigeon Knight has cooked a simple meal, and as Heldris helps him serve the food, he finds himself moving slowly and silently, the ladle not making any noise. “I hope Sivka will make it to her king,” he says quietly, “From the little I’ve gathered, this seems to be a land of wolves; they have no love for one another and will stab each other in the back at the first opportunity.” The Dove Knight stares into the pale fire, “let’s hope their love for war be their doom. Otherwise our swords will have the honour.”

He hands a bowl to the Fox Knight, “What did you see back there in their dark tunnels?” He sighs, “My head started spinning and my stomach clenched, when I realised where you had lost yourself, it was as if the hall were upside down and we were all drowning...” The Dove Knight stares back into the feeble embers, and you can hear his tone soften "you should be more careful..."

Sir Milos, the Fox Knight

The company lays out their furs and settles down for the first watch. "Old ghosts and lingering wounds. The Fae revel in meaningless cruelty at times. I'm sorry I needed rescuing yet again. I will be more careful, I promise." He reaches out and squeezes his comrades hand.

Milos sidles up next to Anastaz and asks tentatively "Were your dreams disturbed by any unwanted visitor last night, my friend?"

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz turns to the Fox Knight. "I..." a flicker of confusion crosses his face. "I couldn't say. I don't remember."  

Sir Milos, the Fox Knight

Milos' brow furrows in concern. "The thief may be going about his business undetected. We must find a way of curtailing his liberties. This arrangement cannot persist unchanged or your losses will become unbearable... I will not see you diminished in this way." His eyes moisten and he turns away slightly.

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

The Salt Knight places a hand on his companion's shoulder. "I have borne more than you know. Let us focus on finding the boy. Then we can revisit our deal."

Sir Milos, the Fox Knight

Milos nods tightly and meets his friend's gaze with tenderness. "Very well. But promise me you will not bear this burden alone and in silence."

Sir Anastaz, The Salt Knight

Anastaz sighs. "That vow may be the hardest of them all." He stares into the fire, but you suspect you can make out the faintest trace of a smile.

Ser Perilake, The Gilded Knight

In low words, Perilake tells the others of the youth he saw in the ice. The youth who he knows as his son, years older than the boy who had barely begun to grow up in their midst. Beyond the strange horror of this lost time, there is still pride and hope in Perilakes voice that Avert rebels... that he remembers. A strange and sad smile glimmers in the firelight.

A dream

Anastaz, you're back in the Brugh, dancing with the Rusalki to the tune of a single harp. You are separated from your partner and you see her simple white dress disappearing between the dancers and your fingers almost touch again but when you reach out to her she always seems one step away. You shrug off other hands and follow her through the rondel and you don't want to see who is playing the harp and when you are finally united she leans in for a kiss and whispers. “I had hoped we could have more time together.” and her lips are soft and warm and a thin line of blood trickles out of the corner of her mouth as she smiles. You are whisked away from her and and you see her simple white dress disappearing between the dancers and your fingers almost touch again and the dance will never end.

You wake up with aching muscles and Adler sits next to you, much too close, watching with their half smile and you startle and then you wake up and Zoltan hold you in his arms and whispers words of comfort. “Shhh … it was only a dream ...”