Amon, Camilla, and Alexandra passed through the yellow-green grove of old alders.
The trees, with their gnarled and sturdy trunks, spread their branches wide above the road. The knight walked ahead, followed by the mercenary and the priestess, who kept a distance of about ten steps behind.
As they passed through the shady dimness cut by sharp sunbeams, Amon casually picked a jagged leaf, thoughtfully turned it in his hands, then crushed it and threw it away.
The knight remained silent as usual, and Alexandra began to worry. She hadn't expected the mention of his difficult childhood to upset her companion so much. Camilla also seemed out of place.
"He's angry with us," the priestess remarked. "This is sad..."
"Yes," Alexandra agreed, sorrowfully. "And it's all my fault. Stupid, stupid me! Why did I even bring up the patrol?"
"Does Amon care about those people?" Camilla asked, batting her eyelashes innocently. "Did he not want to scare them?"
"He didn't," Alexandra replied. "In a way. But it's not about them! We all had horrible pasts. Maybe something really bad came back to him, and it's all my fault... Sigh."
Alexandra lowered her head sadly. The priestess gently embraced her around the waist, and the girl didn't pull away—there was no temptation in the touch, only support.
"You need to talk to him," Camilla declared firmly. "If you're the one at fault, you should apologize."
"I should," the mercenary agreed. "But how?"
Alexandra bit her lip and fell silent for a moment, then, gesturing with her free hand, handed the reins to the priestess and quickened her pace.
She caught up with Amon, then pulled ahead a little and looked into his face. The knight slightly turned his head toward her and asked gruffly,
"Any problems with Camilla?"
"No," Alexandra answered, looking away. "We still have a long way to go, so I thought I'd make some conversation..."
"When will we start learning to ride?" Amon interrupted her.
The mercenary faltered and hesitated.
"There's not much space here," she finally said, gesturing around.
"Beginners need more room."
The grove ended, and arable land stretched on either side, lined by dry irrigation ditches. To avoid wasting water, it was opened early in the morning and evening. A little further, small orchards appeared, hiding peasant houses in their fragrant embrace. Beyond that, a dull strip of gray-yellow desert lay still.
"You know better," Amon said, turning away.
Alexandra barely resisted the urge to spit in frustration, but quickly realized that the knight might misunderstand such a rough gesture. She sighed deeply.
"Listen," she began, feeling guilty. "I'm really sorry for what I said. Honestly, I swear! I didn't mean to upset you... And I didn't want to make you lie either. Please... forgive me, okay?"
Amon slowed his pace and gave her a thoughtful look with his gray eyes.
"Don't worry about it, Alexandra," he said, using her name for the first time during the journey. "You don't have to apologize."
"Not apologize?" His response confused her. She thought Amon would say something harsh about the forced lie.
"You think I acted against my will?"
"Well, yes," Alexandra confirmed naively.
"That's not the case."
"Then what's going on? I don't understand."
"It's not a big deal," Amon said with a strange intonation. "What's much worse is that I don't fully understand it myself."
Alexandra had the feeling that the knight wanted to say something more, but he didn't add anything else. She fell into deep thought. Only now did she realize just how reserved her companion was.
No, Amon could talk. He had no trouble finding common ground with anyone. But aside from the story of the war with the evil empire and the battle on the ship, the knight hadn't shared anything personal with her.
And apparently, he wasn't planning to. Alexandra could only guess what was going on inside her companion's soul.
"You remembered your childhood, got nervous, and now the curse is haunting you?" the girl timidly suggested, just to break the silence.
"A curse," Amon said with a faint smirk. "Seems like a nasty thing. But in reality, it's quite convenient. You can use it to explain anything. Let's call it a curse."
With that phrase, the knight completely baffled Alexandra. The mercenary huffed in frustration, trying to understand the hidden meaning behind Amon's strange words. But just then, there was a pitiful squeal and some commotion from behind. Amon looked back, shook his head, and then said to Alexandra,
"The priestess needs your help. Hurry before she hurts herself."
Alexandra quickly glanced at Camilla and gasped. The priestess was hanging face down between two horses. With her right hand, she was holding the reins of a bay horse, and with her left, those of a black one.
The horses were snorting angrily, stamping their hooves, and were clearly about to bolt. Around the priestess's legs, the rope of the stubborn donkey was tightly wound, pulling her back, and so Camilla was lifted into the air, nearly parallel to the ground.
Camilla kicked her legs, weakly squeaking in fear, but couldn't free herself. In that moment, she looked like a fly caught in a spider's web, only instead of sticky threads, there were leather straps. Despite this, the priestess managed to maintain a certain dignified composure, as though proclaiming to the world,
"For the Fallen Goddess's sake, I'll endure worse!"
Alexandra rushed to the stranded priestess, and when she reached her, she immediately tried to take the reins from her.
"Let go, I'll support you," the mercenary said. "Just let go!"
"Nooww," Camilla squealed in panic, gripping the reins tighter. "I'll fall and hurt myself!"
Alexandra tried to loosen the girl's fingers, first with one hand, then with both, but Camilla didn't yield.
"Uuuuu!" the monster-girl cried out. First softly, then louder and louder, like a kettle on the boil.
The priestess jerked, but her legs only became more tangled in the donkey's rope. The long-eared animal immediately let out a desperate roar and began pulling back with doubled strength.
"Let go!"
"Uuuuu!"
"I said, let go!"
"Uuuuu! Uuuuu!"
The horses snorted. Alexandra could clearly feel that the horses could no longer bear the pain, and something bad was about to happen. But at that moment, Amon sprang forward.