The morning sun hadn't yet risen, but Simon and John were already in the stable saddling their horses. Tightening the belt, Simon noticed he was running out of water.
"We should visit a market on the way," commented John, tying down his saddlebag. "Oh, and stop by Linivka."
"Linivka?"
"We should get Ron to join us. You know he is the best for long journeys."
"If you manage to convince him, I will personally complete one request of your asking. If you fail, you owe me a request."
John smirked, as if he found the challenge amusing.
"Deal."
By the time the sun finally crested the horizon, the pair had left the village far behind. Simon aimed to reach the port by tomorrow at noon to catch a ship, but at the pace they were going it was going to take them a day more.
"Admire the scenery, friend. Why are you in such a hurry? Nobody is chasing you."
Simon wanted to disagree—but he couldn't. Life was meant to be taken more slowly now that he had the time. Glancing around, the world really was a wonder of its own. The shimmering reflection of the sun on the crystal-clear water of the river looked like shattered glass, and the songs of the morning birds filled the air like threads of music woven into the morning breeze.
John dropped his reins, trusting the horse to follow the road on its own, and took out his flute. Matching the tune of the chirping larks, he played softly, the notes rolling like water over stone. Colors deepened, sounds sharpened, and for a moment the road felt less like a path forward and more like a place to simply exist.
"Where did you learn to play?"
"My mentor taught me. Remember the old guy from the forty-second battalion? The one who was always carving something? Just asked him if he could carve me a flute and ended up learning to play it from him as well."
He remembered his old friend well. He had taught him how to use a knife well, and how to take care of himself in the wild. He was also the official mentor of Ron, which is why having John as a second mentee, albeit temporary, was surprising.
"Quite the journey we will have. Perhaps interesting enough to get Will hop on the wagon?"
"The man is married now. He won't be going anywhere."
Simon almost fell off his horse after hearing the statement. Will? Married?! The dude was as silent as a grave.
"And here we are, still single. Thank the Lord for his mercy," replied John.
The burst of laughter from the bard comforted Simon. Truth was spoken there. If his father were still alive, he would have forced him to get married, make an heir, and continue the business. But now, he could just leave it to his brother and set off into the world.
"So? Any stories? You were discharged two years before me, so surely, you've done something interesting."
"Not as much as I wanted, sadly. Half my free time was spent mapping out the western forests for the count, and the other was spent learning instruments. Oh, but I can tell you about the parties at the count's castle. Those were amazing!"
The two friends exchanged stories of what the past years of their life had fostered before reaching a small creek. Their horses were getting tired from half a day of hard riding, and a break would go a long way.
Splashing water on his face, Simon could feel the tiredness washing away. The horses also knelt to drink.
"Looks like we won't be reaching Linivka before nightfall after all."
Simon had dreaded the verdict for a while now. He noticed the dark clouds some time ago but was hoping that they wouldn't reach them. But traveling in the autumn downpour was not an option, so finding some proper shelter was the priority.
"Let's follow the creek to a cave. We can rest there. Take the horses—I'll check ahead."
John took the reins and started to pack up everything, and Simon ran upstream. Sure enough, there were some caves near the water source. The ceiling was tall enough for the horses and the entrance wasn't too big, so the wind wouldn't blow out their fire.
Quickly he started stacking firewood at the back. The rain would soak everything outside, so they would need a dry supply inside. By the time he was finishing, John had arrived with the horses.
"Place them to the left and help me light the fire."
"Still struggling with the flint? And here I thought you were a talented man."
Simon glared at John. It was a running joke that he struggled to light fires, mainly because after a few minutes he would give up or break the flint. John relished his small victory as he quickly lit some kindling and started placing thicker branches around to grow the flame.
Soon enough, the golden glow grew, scattering rays of bright light around the cave. John took out some dough and wrapped it, placing it near the flame. Meanwhile, Simon skinned and cleaned a rabbit in the creek.
"Please tell me you put yeast into that dough."
"And why would I do that?"
He couldn't bother explaining the differences to John and continued trying to season the rabbit.
"Some rich men we are. No yeast in the bread and only salt for the rabbit," Simon teasingly commented.
The soft drizzle of rain brought him inside as the sky darkened with a worrying speed.
"You sure this will let up by tomorrow?"
Simon's question was met with a 'mhm' as John continued trying to get the bread to bake properly. As much as they were great swordsmen, cooking wasn't a great virtue of these people.
The scent of roasting meat mingled with warm dough as the fire crackled softly between them. Outside, the rain pressed close, but it never crossed the threshold. Within the cave, wrapped in light and quiet, the two men sat near the fire, and took out some cards.
"So, what are we betting?"
The question weighed on Simon's mind. Betting favors was too cheap, but betting equipment could end badly. But seeing the caked dirt on their boots, he had an idea.
"The loser cleans the other's clothes?"
"That's too boring. How about… the loser gives up their cloak for the night to the winner?"
Sleeping with no cloak would be hard, but that's what made it fun as well.
"Fair enough."
The rain poured harder, and somewhere along the flooding creek, a certain man's pride went with it.
END OF CHAPTER 4