Clop, clop, clop…
The relentless thud of hooves echoed across the frozen expanse of the Riverden River, its ice-glazed surface crunching under the weight of a hundred-strong caravan. A dozen draft horses strained against their harnesses, pulling ice sleds laden with goods, their breaths steaming in the frigid air. The wind carried a biting chill, slicing through cloaks and furs, as the group trudged forward, a mix of determination and weariness in their steps.
James and Martin, along with the commoners from Riverden City, plodded on foot, their boots sinking into the snow-dusted ice. The caravan had too few horses to spare, and the cargo—piles of trade goods and sacks of wheat for sustenance—demanded priority. The river's frozen surface stretched endlessly before them, a stark, white path flanked by barren trees cloaked in frost.
"Lord Martin, take a break on the sled," James said, glancing at the older man's unsteady gait. Martin's face was pale, his breath labored, and James worried the cold might claim him. "You don't want to collapse out here."
"No need," Martin protested, waving a trembling hand. "We're almost there. I can manage…" His voice was resolute, but his body betrayed him, swaying with each step. He had to see this trade with the beast-kin tribe through—Lucas's advance payment of wheat demanded nothing less. "If I falter, how will I introduce you to the tribe?"
James shook his head, undeterred. "If you collapse, you're no use to anyone." Without waiting for a reply, he gripped Martin's arm and guided him to a sled, easing him onto a pile of furs. "Sit."
"I'll rest for a bit, then you take a break, James," Martin said quickly, his pride stung but his gratitude evident.
"Don't worry about me. Young folks like me are built for this," James said with a dismissive wave, though his broad shoulders ached from the journey. Martin was their key to the beast-kin tribe—without his connections, they'd be lost. 'Can't let him wear out,' James thought, his practical mind overriding his own fatigue.
Martin settled onto the sled, his breath steadying as he looked at James with a curious glint in his cloudy eyes. "James, may I ask you something?"
"Go ahead," James said, raising an eyebrow. Days of traveling together had built a cautious respect between them. Martin, despite his frail appearance, had proven himself a capable city lord, and James was intrigued by what he might want to know.
A faint smile tugged at Martin's lips. "Does your city lord have a wife?"
James blinked, caught off guard. "Huh?" He'd braced for questions about trade or logistics, not this. Recovering, he scratched his head. "The Master doesn't have a wife yet."
His mind flickered to his sister, Nicole, a fleeting hope that she might catch Lucas's eye. But he quickly dismissed it—'Our family's status is too low for the Master.' The thought stung, though he kept his expression neutral.
"No wife?" Martin's eyes brightened, a spark of interest cutting through his fatigue. "What kind of woman does Lord Lucas fancy?"
James hesitated, his mind blank. Lucas was surrounded by striking women—Mina, Annie Freya—but he'd never spoken of preferences. "Honestly, I've got no idea," He admitted with a wry chuckle. Then it clicked: Martin had a daughter, Lady Camilla. 'Is he eyeing the Master for her?' The implications hit him like a gust of wind. If Camilla married Lucas, Riverden City could become an extension of Sedona's influence—a second city under Lucas's rule. 'Ambitious old man,' James thought, both impressed and wary.
"No matter if you can't say," Martin said, sensing James's reluctance and waving it off with a gentle smile.
"It's not that," James said, shaking his head. "I just don't know what the Master likes." He glanced at the sleds, eager to change the subject. "I'll check the cargo."
He moved along the line of sleds, his boots crunching as he inspected the ropes securing the goods. Sacks of wheat and crates of trade items jostled with each bump, but nothing had spilled. The wheat doubled as their food supply, a practical choice for the long trek. The cold bit at his fingers as he tightened a strap, his breath fogging in the air.
Another half-hour passed, the sun climbing to its midday peak. They'd been marching since dawn, six grueling hours on the ice. James's voice cut through the wind. "Halt! Rest and eat lunch!"
"Yes, sir!" The ten veteran soldiers in the group responded, their voices sharp despite the cold. They sprang into action, their survival skills honed from years in the field. A fire was kindled, its flames crackling as they fed it wood and began boiling wheat porridge, tossing in strips of dried meat for flavor.
"Finally, a break!" The Riverden City commoners cheered, spreading beast pelts on the ice to sit. Their eyes locked on the simmering pots, mouths watering as the rich aroma of meat porridge wafted through the air. Hunger gnawed at them, sharpened by the relentless cold.
Thirty minutes later, the porridge was ready. The commoners lined up orderly, a routine honed over three days since leaving Riverden City. Bowls were filled, steam rising as they clutched their portions, the warmth seeping into their chilled hands.
James approached Martin, holding two bowls of porridge. "Lord Martin, can we reach the beast-kin tribe before dark?" He asked, handing over a bowl.
"Absolutely," Martin said, taking the bowl with both hands, his confidence unwavering. "We'll be there before sunset."
"Good," James said, glancing at the horizon where dark clouds churned ominously. "Looks like a blizzard's coming. We need to beat it."
"Blizzard?" Martin's eyes widened as he followed James's gaze, his face paling. "Eat quickly, everyone! We need to reach the tribe before the storm hits!" In the open wilds, a blizzard could be deadly without shelter or survival know-how.
"Agreed," James said, his tone grim. He turned to the group. "Finish up and move! The storm's closing in!"
"Yes, sir!" The veterans barked.
"Blizzard?" A commoner gasped, panic sparking as they shoveled porridge into their mouths. "It's hot!" One cried, scooping snow into their bowl to cool it.
"Eat fast! I don't want to freeze to death!" Another urged, the group's urgency palpable. Lunch was devoured in record time, and the caravan surged forward, their pace quickening despite aching limbs.
By four in the afternoon, the sky had darkened to a foreboding gray, the wind howling as snowflakes swirled like daggers. The commoners shivered, their cloaks flapping, their faces half-buried in furs, only their eyes visible.
"Keep pushing! The tribe's close!" James roared, his voice battling the wind to rally the group.
"Yes, sir!" the veterans responded, their discipline unshaken.
The commoners, too exhausted to reply, trudged on, heads bowed against the storm. Two hours later, several collapsed, their bodies numb from the cold. They were hoisted onto the sleds, squeezed among the cargo, their faces pale but alive.
"How much farther?" James muttered, his voice muffled by his scarf. "We'll freeze if this keeps up."
"We're there—almost there!" Martin said, craning his neck, his voice tinged with desperation. "Just a bit more!"
James rolled his eyes. 'He's said that thirty times.' No sign of the tribe had appeared, only endless ice and snow.
"There! It's really there!" Martin shouted suddenly, pointing at a cluster of indistinct shapes in the distance—huts, barely visible through the blizzard.
"Really?" James squinted, his heart leaping as he made out the faint outlines of buildings. "Scout ahead!" He ordered the veterans.
"Yes, sir!" The soldiers gripped their swords and moved swiftly, vanishing into the snow. Ten minutes later, they returned, breathless but certain. "Sir, it's the beast-kin tribe."
"Prepare to approach," James said, his voice steady but firm. "Ready the crossbows." The weapons were their lifeline, a last resort if negotiations turned sour.
"Yes, sir!" The veterans moved to arm themselves, their movements precise despite the cold.
.
.
.
.
You can read advance chapters and view R-18 images of the characters on pat reon page.
pat reon.com/GreenBlue17
300 Power Stones for 1 extra chapter.
5 New reviews for 1 extra chapter.