The pre-dawn chill cut through the trees as Olena’s steady hooves carried Henry, Theresa, and Mutt through the dark woods back toward the outskirts of Rovna.
Theresa sat before Henry on the saddle, her shoulders slouched against his chest in exhaustion, her hand gripping the pommel to steady herself.
Beside them, Mutt trotted silently through the brush, his head low and eyes sharp, guarding their flank.
Leaving the main road behind, Henry guided Olena into the narrow, overgrown gorge where he had hidden the scavengers’ horse cart hours earlier.
The two draft mares whinnied softly in recognition as Olena trotted into the hollow.
The cart remained untouched, still hidden beneath the wall of cut brush and evergreen branches Henry had draped over the frame.
Henry dismounted first, then reached up and gently helped Theresa down from the saddle.
Her legs wobbled the moment her boots hit the damp earth, and she leaned against Olena’s flank, shivering in the cold morning air.
“We’re safe here for now,” Henry said softly, leading her over to a dry patch of grass beneath a rock overhang.
“No one saw us come up the gorge.”
He unslung a thick wool blanket from Olena’s pack and wrapped it around Theresa’s shoulders.
Theresa sat on the ground ,Henry went to the back of the carriage to retrieved one of the round wax-sealed cheeses, a loaf of rye bread, and a leather canteen filled with fresh water.
Theresa took the canteen with trembling hands, taking small, desperate gulps before breaking off a piece of bread.
“I thought I was going to die back there, Henry,” she murmured, her voice cracking as she stared into the dim gray morning light.
“My uncle…
my brothers…
everyone in the village…”
“I know,” Henry said quietly, sitting beside her and letting Mutt rest his heavy chin across her knee.
Mutt let out a soft whine, nuzzling her hand until she gently stroked his ears.
“You don’t have to talk about it now.
Eat something and rest.”
While Theresa ate, Henry tended to Olena and the two draft mares, filling their nosebags with oats and checking their hooves.
He then inspected his own condition.
Aside from the bruising across his ribs from his earlier clash with the Cuman raider, he was largely unscathed.
He decided to organize their supplies for the long road ahead.
Between the scavengers’ loot, Martin’s strongbox, and his own preparations, they were remarkably well-provisioned:
Currency: 300 silver Prague groschen in his belt pouch, plus additional coin stored away.
Provisions: 3 sacks of milled rye and barley, 2 firkins of salted lard and pork, rounds of hard cheese, and fresh water.
Equipment & Raw Materials: 5 heavy crossbows, 2 hunting bows, quivers of piercing bolts, iron cooking pots, pewter flagons, lead strips, and 3 ingots of Styrian carbon steel.
Animals: Olena, two healthy draft mares, a sturdy two-wheeled farm cart, and Mutt.
“Where are we going?” Theresa asked after a long silence, wiping a smudge of soot from her cheek.
“We can’t go back to Skalitz.”
“No,” Henry replied, walking back to sit across from her.
“Skalitz is gone.
But Sir Radzig and the survivors made it to Rattay.
Lady Stephanie and Sir Robard are at Talmberg.”
He paused, weighing their options carefully in his mind.
Talmberg was closer—just a short ride up the northern road—and Sir Divish’s garrison offered immediate safety behind stone walls.
However, Talmberg was already overcrowded with refugees, and the castle remained under high military alert due to Sigismund’s forces lingering in the province.
Rattay lay further south beyond the river, but it was a walled regional seat with a proper city market, Sir Radzig’s remaining garrison, and an established apothecary.
More importantly, Theresa’s uncle, the miller Peshek, ran a homestead just outside the walls of Rattay.
“If we go to Talmberg, we can rest for a day,” Henry explained, looking toward the draft cart loaded with heavy supplies.
After which we can start the journey towards rattay I need to report to Ser Radzig.
Theresa looked down at Mutt, who was now resting peacefully at her feet, then looked up at Henry with a quiet, resolute nod.
“My Uncle Peshek will take us in at the Rattay mill.
It’s safe there.”
“Then Rattay it is,” Henry said.
“We’ll take the back roads toward Talmberg first rest their today and start our journey to rattay.”
He stood up, clearing away the cut branches from the cart and hitching the two draft mares to the wooden frame.
He placed Theresa comfortably on a bed of hay inside the cart alongside the grain sacks, securing the canvas tarp over the top to keep her out of sight.
Taking Olena’s reins and tying it to cart back guiding the draft mares with the other, Henry led the cart out of the hidden gorge and onto the quiet dirt track leading away from Rovna.
===================================================
The morning sun broke weakly through the heavy gray canopy of the Bohemian forest, casting pale shafts of light over the mud-rutted road.
The rhythmic creak of the cart’s iron-rimmed wheels and the soft thud of horse hooves were the only sounds accompanying Henry as he guided the two draft mares south toward the talmberg territory.
Theresa sat beside him in the cart, wrapped tightly against the chill.
Yesterday’s horrors had left her shaken, but the hollow look in her eyes was finally starting to clear.
Up ahead, Mutt trotted alongside the wooden wheels, his ears twitching at every rustle in the roadside brush.
Theresa sat near the front of the cart beside Henry, a warm wool blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
Her face was still pale, but the color was slowly returning to her cheeks.
“How are you feeling now, Theresa?” Henry asked, adjusting his grip on the leather reins.
“Better than yesterday, Henry,” Theresa said softly, looking over at him.
“And…
I really want to thank you for what you did.
You saved my life a second time.”
Henry let out a quiet, half-amused breath, staring ahead at the road.
“Well, for the first time…
I can’t exactly say I saved you.
Back then, I didn’t even know what I was doing.
I didn’t even realize it was you down there in the hamlet.
I just knew I had to do something, so the only thing I could think of was drawing their attention to me.”
“That was enough,” Theresa said firmly, her voice trembling slightly with memory.
“If you hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t be alive today.
It gave me the chance I needed to escape.
And yesterday…
you saved me once again.
I really want to thank you, Henry.
If I ever have the chance, I will repay you.”
“There’s no need, Theresa,” Henry replied gently.
“We’re both survivors of Skalitz.
We look out for each other.”
Theresa fell silent for a moment, watching the trees pass by.
“Is there anyone else still alive from Skalitz?
How did you survive out there for so long?”
“I saw what was left of the village on the road out,” Henry said, his voice dropping low.
“Not much to speak of—just smoke, dead horses, and men running for the hills.
There’s nothing left for anyone back there.”
Theresa shook her head in quiet disbelief.
“In times like these…
even good men turn bad.”
As they spoke, a low, rhythmic thudding echoed through the trees from the road ahead.
Mutt’s ears instantly perked up, his tail dropping as he let out a sharp, watchful huff.
Henry’s hand instinctively dropped to the pommel of his sword.
Theresa immediately reached behind her seat under the canvas tarp, her hand tightening around the grip of a heavy loaded crossbow.
Moments later, a six-man cavalry squad burst around the forested bend.
At their head rode a broad, burly figure clad in polished steel plate armor and a heavy mantle.
It was Sir Robard, Captain of the Talmberg garrison.
“Halt!” Robard shouted, reining in his heavy warhorse.
His hand rested on his sword hilt as the five armored men behind him fanned out across the narrow road, their spears and sidearms raised in a cautious, guarded line.
“Who goes there?
What is in that cart?”
Henry pulled the draft mares to a full stop.
Recognizing the captain, a profound wave of relief washed over him.
“Captain Robard!” Henry called out, easing his grip on his blade.
“It’s me—Henry!”
Robard nudged his warhorse forward, his brow furrowed as he scrutinized the young man at the reins.
As recognition dawned on him, his eyes widened in sheer astonishment.
“Henry?!
By the Mother of God…
you are alive!” Robard exclaimed.
“Lord Divish thought you were dead!
Lady Stephanie has been sick with worry!”
Robard’s keen eyes swept over Henry, taking in the dried blood splattered across his collar, the mud-stained gambeson, and the heavy chainmail.
Then his gaze drifted to Theresa sitting beside him, and finally to the massive haul of supplies packed into the cart frame behind them.
“What in God’s name have you been through, boy?” Robard asked, breathless.
“It’s a long story, Captain,” Henry said, his voice gravelly and exhausted.
“This is Theresa, the miller’s daughter from Skalitz.
She’s a survivor.”
Theresa gave a small, respectful nod from her seat.
“God be with you, Captain.”
Henry’s expression hardened, his voice deepening as he looked Robard in the eye.
“I went back to Skalitz, Captain…
to bury my parents.
On the way, I ran into a pack of scavengers looting in Rovna.
I ambushed them and took care of them.
Then I pushed on to Skalitz because there were bandits occupying the lower town.
I slipped past them and buried my mother and father under the linden tree.”
He paused, glancing back at Theresa.
“When I was leaving through the back gate, I heard Theresa screaming.
Cuman raiders had her cornered at the mill.
I eliminated them and got her out.
The road back wasn’t safe, but we were still able to recover these goods from Rovna and Skalitz along the way.”
Robard and his soldiers exchanged looks of absolute shock.
The men-at-arms stared at Henry as if looking at a ghost—or a seasoned warrior returned from the abyss.
Robard let out a long, incredulous laugh, shaking his helmeted head.
“Well…
I always knew you had brains, lad, but who could have guessed that a single day of war would turn a blacksmith’s boy into a bloody soldier?”
Henry didn’t answer right away.
He just stared ahead at the rutted dirt, his jaw tight, carrying a quiet exhaustion that Robard recognized all too well.
“Captain,” Henry added quietly, “besides the crows and wild dogs, scattered bands of deserters are still roaming the valley, along with Cuman stragglers.”
Robard studied Henry’s face.
Seeing the quiet, unbroken resolve in the young man’s eyes, the veteran captain asked no more questions.
“Lord Divish has been deeply concerned for your safety,” Robard said, his tone softening with genuine respect.
“Come back to Talmberg with us.
You both need proper food, rest, and care.”
Robard turned to two of his mounted guards.
“You two—fall in behind the cart and help him lead the horses.
Lighten his reins.
We escort them back to the castle!”
With Captain Robard’s armored squad guarding their front and rear, the terrifying uncertainty of the road vanished.
Escorted by the banners of Talmberg, Henry, Theresa, and Mutt made the rest of the journey in complete safety, riding under the shadow of heavy iron and friendly steel.
With Captain Robard leading the way and two armored guards watching their rear, Henry and Theresa no longer had to worry about the dangers of the open road.
The presence of Talmberg steel allowed Henry to relax his grip on his weapon as the cart rolled smoothly toward the castle walls.
“Captain Robard,” Henry called out, breaking the quiet clatter of hooves.
“When I was planning my ambush on the scavengers back in Rovna, I overheard their leader talking.
He mentioned that there’s a man trying to unite the local bandits, Cuman deserters, and scavengers under one banner.”
Robard’s expression darkened instantly.
He reined his warhorse closer to the side of Henry’s cart, his brow furrowed in concentration.
“A man gathering all of them together?” Robard mused aloud, his voice grave.
“If that’s true, it means King Sigismund may have pulled his main army back, but he left a venomous stake in our heart to keep the lords divided and defensive.
Did you hear where their main camp is?”
“No, Captain,” Henry lied smoothly.
“All I heard was that their base lies hidden deep within the northern woods.”
Pribyslavitz.
The name sat on the tip of Henry’s tongue, but he forced himself to swallow it.
Explaining how a blacksmith’s boy knew the name of an abandoned village hidden miles deep in the northern brush would only bring questions he couldn’t answer.
For one, he couldn’t be certain if his actions had already altered the timeline or if the bandits had set up secondary camps elsewhere in the forest.
More importantly, he had no plausible way to explain how a simple blacksmith’s son could possibly know the layout of a hidden fortress deep in enemy territory without raising suspicions.
Robard nodded slowly, taking in the warning.
“This is critical intelligence, Henry.
Thank you for telling me.
I’ll need to double our patrols along the northern tree line immediately.”
After exchanging a few more words about the road conditions, the group maintained a steady, vigilant pace until the high stone towers of Talmberg Castle loomed over the valley ahead.
Crossing the drawbridge under the safety of Captain Robard’s escort, the heavy iron portcullis slammed down behind them, signaling that they had finally reached a place of refuge.