Adventure of Elianor Vale 2

Elianor enters the Duchess's garden as the report finishes its passage through the household. Beneath clipped yew trees, Maurice Headsman stands guard while servants crowd anxiously against the stone walls.

The Duchess, an elderly woman with a narrow, composed face, silver hair braided beneath a dark green veil, weighs him from her carved stone seat.

Before Maurice can answer, the garden gate bangs open. A young adult man in a mud-dark riding cloak staggers through, pale beneath road dust, one sleeve marked with black ash.

The garden falls silent. Maurice lowers his chin, while the rider steadies himself against the gate and watches the Duchess for judgment.

The Duchess rises, her dark green veil stirring in the smoky wind. She gestures sharply toward the servants gathered by the wall.

Servants scatter through the passages. Beyond the garden, a bell begins to toll for the mustering, and Maurice turns toward the sound with grim purpose.

The Duchess studies Elianor beneath the tolling bell. Her gaze lingers on the fresh silver brand at Elianor’s throat before returning to her face.

A servant hurries back through the garden arch, breathless, and points toward the east court. Hooves strike stone beyond the walls as the mustering gathers force.

The Duchess turns to Maurice and thrusts a ring of gate keys into his broad hand. From the east court, a woman’s voice calls for provisions and a fresh mount.

Elianor crosses into the east court, seizes a ashwood spear from the weapons rack, and falls in behind Maurice as he strides toward the waiting horses.

Her quick hand catches the sound of a loose saddle strap before anyone else notices. She knots it tight, and the nearest mount stands ready instead of being abandoned.

Celia Graves steps from the arched passage, a middle-aged woman in a weathered black riding coat, gray-streaked hair bound close, and a death-marked blade at her hip.

The east gate groans open. Smoke stains the distant sky, while servants lead out the horses and the mustering bell gives way to the hard rhythm of departure.

Elianor reaches the mounting yard as Maurice swings into his saddle, but the horse meant for her is already gone, led away with the supply train.

She takes the east road on foot beside the departing horses. Hooves quickly outpace her, and smoke blurs the burning villages beyond the ford.

Maurice reins in hard. Celia halts ahead of him, while the road divides around a collapsed watchtower and a weed-choked canal.

The horses wait beneath the smoke, Maurice holding the reins of his mount while the overgrown canal path opens beside the broken tower.

Elianor takes the canal path, placing each step on firm stones beneath the weeds. The broken watchtower falls behind as the horses follow carefully along the raised bank.

The path narrows between black water and thorn-choked embankment, but Elianor’s balance carries her cleanly through. Smoke hangs lower here, bitter over the reeds.

Celia dismounts and crouches beside the mud. The impressions lead beneath a leaning stone bridge, then climb toward the ford beyond the canal.

The canal path opens onto the ford’s eastern approach. Across the shallow water, burned wagons stand crooked against the gray sky, and fresh tracks vanish among them.

Celia studies the churned mud beneath the burned wagons, tracing heel marks, dragging feet, and the deep furrows left by something heavy being hauled west.

She points to a narrow line of boot prints crossing the corpses’ trail. The living scouts kept to the eastern bank, marking the ford before the dead arrived.

Celia rises and gathers her reins. Beneath the wreckage, a black opening waits in the reed bank, its passage concealed from anyone watching the road.

Elianor enters the concealed sluice, boots sinking among slick stones as shallow water threads around her ankles. The cramped passage smells of wet earth and old smoke.

Near the center, one stone rolls beneath her foot. She catches the wall, but loose masonry gives way, and she drops hard to one knee in the cold channel.

Water surges through the loosened stones, clouding the sluice and blocking the narrow route ahead with fresh rubble. Elianor remains on the eastern side, soaked to the knee.

Elianor backs from the collapsed sluice and studies the ford through the reeds. Beyond the burned wagons, a line of half-submerged stepping stones follows the old millrace toward the western bank.

She moves along the eastern bank, testing each stone with the ashwood spear before shifting her weight. At the final gap, she braces against a wagon axle and reaches the far side.

The current twists her ankle as she crosses, scraping her shin against submerged masonry. She catches herself, leaving a bright smear on the wet stone, but reaches the western bank.

Celia climbs onto the western bank and examines the mud beyond the wreckage. Fresh boot prints angle toward a stand of burned alder, while the concealed ford lies behind them.

Warn the Duchess of the Baron's hidden crossing