The Thief's Tale (Part 2)

By the time Neve had securely dressed Oliver's wounds and Ludger had readied the cart and their horses, the sky was pitch black. The campsite was illuminated by torchlight, which cast long shadows over everyone's faces.

Oliver gingerly raised his arm, beckoning Neve over to him where he lay in the cart, surrounded by his belongings. Neve took a seat beside him. The wooden cart creaked underneath the added weight.

"Be careful," Oliver said, his voice barely a whisper. "I know he's a child, but don't hesitate to kill him if your life is threatened."

Neve glanced at the boy, who was struggling to detach his rucksack from one of the bandits' mules. "I think I'll manage."

"The real danger is Hell's Gate," Oliver continued solemnly. "You'll be surrounded by enemies. And not just the ones on the other side of the border."

At this, Neve could only nod. There was nothing for her to say. Navigating Hell's Gate without the help of an ally would be her biggest challenge yet.

Oliver patted Neve's knee gently. "Just watch your back and be careful about who you decide to trust."

"I shall," Neve agreed. Then she stood, glancing up at Ludger who was situated on the rider's seat. "Well, I won't keep you any longer. Be safe, Sir Oliver."

"I'll join you at Hell's Gate once I have recovered," the knight promised.

"I will be waiting." Neve addressed Ludger next. "Ludger, be off now!"

"Yes, My Lady," Ludger replied. He pulled the horse's reins taut. "Walk on!"

The cart spurred into motion, jerking ahead on uneven wheels. Neve winced, wondering how the knight would fare on the bumpy journey back to Ironhold.

Neve and the young bandit watched as the cart disappeared into the dark night. A few moments passed before she turned to face the boy.

"How well can you ride a horse?" she asked, realizing the question was a little belated.

"Quite well," the boy replied hesitantly.

"Then, let's not linger," Neve said. "We will continue on our journey."

"What–now?" the boy squawked, trailing after Neve as she walked over to her warhorse.

"Yes, now," Neve responded. She looked over her shoulder and smiled coldly. "I won't let you escape."

–––

Neve and the young bandit rode through the pitch black darkness in silence. Their path was lit by their torches, which they each carried with one hand. It made riding more challenging, but the boy seemed to be managing with Oliver's stallion.

Below her, Neve's magnificent stallion was steadfast and strong. Yule was a small comfort in what was otherwise a disastrous journey.

Her injured shoulder burned, but the pain was tolerable. She hadn't bothered to dress it, as the wound had stopped bleeding on its own. The searing pain was a reminder of how they had failed.

They had severely underestimated the potential dangers they would encounter. The highway between Bluhera and Asteria, which served as a trade route between the two nations, was seldom used before the war began. After the war, its usage ceased almost entirely.

Their thoughtlessness had almost cost Oliver his life.

The adrenaline aroused by the conflict and Oliver's injury had long disappeared from her body, leaving behind only bone-deep exhaustion. But her mind had not settled–it was a tumultuous mess of fear, guilt, and anger.

'I just killed five men,' was the thought that had echoed inside Neve's mind throughout the entirety of the night.

Neve had gone from practice matches with Oliver to slaughtering five adversaries with her sword and her magic. She had never even killed an animal before, much less a person.

'If I didn't kill them, they would have killed us instead,' she reasoned with herself. 'And they were criminals.'

Neve tightened her grip on Yule's reins. Still, they were people, just like her, and Neve now had their blood on her hands forever.

To distract herself, Neve turned to the boy riding beside her. His face looked especially gaunt under the light of his torch. It was no surprise, as the boy and his bandit companions had depleted their food supply en route. Luckily, the young bandit had adamantly insisted on eating before they had departed.

"What's your name?" Neve asked, breaking the silence. "Where are you from?"

The boy jumped a little, turning to look at her. It was as if he was surprised Neve would deign to converse with him.

"I'm Reed, uh, My Lady," the bandit responded, fumbling through the formalities. He had received a stern lecture from Ludger before they separated. "I was born in Kirh, but I've been working in Bluhera for the past few years."

Kirh was a small country nestled between the south of Asteria and Bluhera. Before the war, it was a modest but culturally-rich nation. Now, it was a satellite state of Bluhera.

"I am Neve Rosentine," Neve offered in return. "Have you heard of my family before?"

Reed scrunched his nose, thinking hard. "It sounds familiar. You're obviously a noble, so I'm guessing you're from a high-ranking family." He paused, tacking on a clumsy, "My Lady."

"Yes, I am part of the ducal House Rosentine," Neve confirmed.

"D-Duke!" Reed spluttered.

"It's not as great as one would think," Neve said with a small, wry smile. "Aren't you curious about why I'm headed to Hell's Gate?"

"Well, I thought it was strange since you're a woman. But I did see you defeat five men single-handedly, so I don't know what to think," the boy answered, glancing at Neve warily through the corner of his eye.

"I was engaged to the Crown Prince, but our engagement was annulled recently. The Royal Family decided to sentence me to death," she explained. "In an indirect manner, mind you. I was stationed at Hell's Gate as a man-at-arms."

A heavy stretch of silence followed Neve's words. She looked over at Reed, wondering why he had not spoken. The boy's mouth was hanging open as he stared at Neve openly.

"You'll catch flies," Neve teased.

Reed shut his mouth hastily, searching for something to say. "I don't–just...wow."

"Indeed," she agreed. "It's quite a tale. And my magic...well, for now, it's a secret. I'd appreciate it if you kept it to yourself."

The boy paused, contemplating. Eventually, Reed spoke a simple, "Okay." Neve didn't trust him for a second, but she would determine how to handle him later.

They rode without speaking for a few minutes, giving Reed the opportunity to contemplate everything he had just learned. Absentmindedly, Neve wondered if he would have rather died with his comrades, instead of prolonging his misery with her at Hell's Gate.

"You must have an interesting story, too," Neve remarked. "Not everyone has a stolen Imperial Army crest hidden in their pocket."

"I mean, I guess I do," Reed conceded. "It's a long one, though."

"We have ample time."

The boy inhaled deeply–and tiredly, sounding older than he was. "Well…"