"I remember Velund," said the Phantom thoughtfully, taking the reins of the horse nearest him. "Liked him about as much as I enjoy freezing sleet down the back of my tunic."

He eyed the horses themselves, then the sack of coins in his hand. "Normally, I would really consider pilfering horses to be a tad beyond the bounds of acceptability...but as it was Velund...and as they'll now live a marvelous life full of murderous elves and riding to their doom..." grinning, he offered Kjan a congratulatory hand to shake. "Nicely done, I say. That is, assuming you got away without having your likenesses neatly captured for public display on convenient Wanted posters?"


Eledhe made to take the reins of a horse, then narrowly avoided losing a few fingers when it lunged to snap at thin air. "Bloody animal," she muttered, eying it warily. This promised to be interesting. Even with them on horseback, she'd be unsurprised if, in the middle of some conveniently moonless night, they all woke up with daggers planted in vital areas courtesy of elves who'd lost patience.

The prospect made her hurry to skirt the horse's teeth and mount it.

_________________

Kjan seemed to hesitate slightly. "Right. About that. We should probably get going soon. The soldiers won't be far behind." He paused momentarily, just long enough to make everyone adequately concerned, then broke into a grin. "Give me a little credit, hmm? I told you we'd get in and out without any trouble, and we did."

Still smirking, Kjan mounted his horse before it could make any plans to the contrary. "You know," he remarked conversationally as he waited for the others. "It's a rather good thing that you don't put me in charge very often. Given my significantly higher success rate, I might just start to get ideas after too long."

The Phantom's snort of derision was descriptive as to his frame of mind regarding that comment. "Be my guest," he retorted, with an expansive gesture. "With 'rebel leader' come the posts 'most often captured', 'most likely to be hanged if caught' and 'responsible for things like money and lack of it'."

He wheeled his mount around and, with a glance back to ensure everyone was mounted and ready, nudged the horse into a brisk trot. "Right. Let's give these elves a run for their money."

-----

When they'd set off, the sun was already dipping behind the mountains, and by the time the moon was luminous overhead, they'd made excellent time. The Phantom made especially sure to ride through whatever water they passed, and though he suspected that Elvish trackers could bypass such precautions with ease, the effort certainly couldn't hurt. He found, too, that as night set on, the slightest sounds in the underbrush could make him turn sharply to look for the source. He had as little desire as any for their party to be overtaken.

And perhaps concern for who he knew to be their target played into it a little, too.

In any case, a few hours after midnight was the first time he had to jerk himself awake from a doze in the saddle. The Phantom shifted position, scanning their surroundings to distract himself from the desire to sleep. From what he could tell, most of their mounts were still going strong, and as long as they did, he intended to keep going.

The horse beneath him snorted softly, as if to echo his sentiments. The Phantom found himself smiling grimly. The elves would not find them an easy target.

_________________

They rode hard through the night without stopping. By the time the sun started to peek over the mountains, both the horses and their riders were thoroughly exhausted. They followed the road for a short distance more, at a slower pace, until they came to a suitable spot for stopping. Camp was set up in a small clearing that was relatively close to the road, but completely hidden by trees, and the horses were tied up near a patch of long grass where they could graze. It wasn't ideal to stop at all, but better at least during the day, when they could actually see what was attacking them.

Food was taken out and passed around, though everyone seemed more interested in sleep than eating. Kjan sat down next to the Phantom and chewed thoughtfully for a minute before speaking. "How many more days - or nights, rather - of riding are you anticipating?" he asked quietly. "Horses are faster than on foot, but they're more easily tracked, too. And given that Tomith seems as fresh as ever, even after all that, I doubt our new friends are going to be taking half as many breaks. Horses might not be enough, if we have much further to go."

The Phantom looked as though he had already been contemplating this, because it was a moment before he replied, frowning slightly. "Aye. It'll be a close thing. I had rather hoped that they might be waylaid, coming over the mountains, what with the dwarves and all..." he trailed off. It was an unlikely possibility. The elves and dwarves were stiff with each other, not quite enemies but not quite friendly either, therefore the dwarves would have no reason to even acknowledge the presence of the elves.

He gave Kjan a thin smile. "Don't think I'll be sleeping much today. I'll watch first."

Eying the road, almost invisible through the thick trees, and then the rising sun, he got to his feet. "We're off again at nightfall or before, you lot - should sleep while you can."

_________________

Kjan looked to be on the verge of arguing, but a traitorous yawn escaped and ended the debate before it started. He glanced around at the others, who were already beginning to pull out bedrolls and turn in for the day, and sighed inwardly.

"Fine," he said, shrugging resignedly. "But wake me up the moment you start to feel even remotely tired." He started to pull out his own bedroll, only to pause halfway through and turn back around. "Revision: Wake me up in two hours, whether you think you're feeling remotely tired or not. You need rest, even if it's just lying on your back and looking at the pretty clouds for a few hours."

"I am not tired. I will watch with him," Tomith interjected smoothly, a ghost of a smile playing at his otherwise impassive features. "You will be awoken before he exceeds his limit."

Kjan smirked tiredly and finished rolling out the thin mat. With a final glance at the Phantom, he lay down, wrapped himself in his cloak, and was asleep within seconds.

Silvryn, who had been listening to the exchange, waited a few minutes before propping herself up on her elbows. "You will rest eventually, won't you?" she said quietly, more of a statement than a true inquiry. "It would not do for the entire company to escape capture, only to have the fearless leader collapse from exhaustion."

The Phantom turned halfway to look at her, from where he'd been sitting smoking contemplatively with the last of his pilfered pipeweed. "Sleep is one of those things I tend to consider a bit secondary to more important matters," he replied thoughtfully. "But aye. Eventually."

Paradoxically, as the sun crept up past the horizon, there was very little movement in the impromptu camp. The Phantom remained on watch for two or three hours, into midmorning, until Tomith resolutely tapped him on the shoulder and indicated his empty bedroll with a raised eyebrow. Human and elf exchanged looks, and the Phantom could have sworn he saw the ghost of a grin. He gave a somewhat overdramatized sigh, and went to give this 'sleep' idea an attempt. Not without a wry glance at the sleeping Silvryn, it must be said.

It was quite incongruous, he reflected, to be lying here as the sun ascended overhead, incorrectly identifying every snort of the nearby horses as a sign that murderous elves were concealed in the underbrush. In fact, wasn't it a little incongruous to be lying here at all?

Muttering, he rolled over. There were plenty of others to chide him about not sleeping, and therefore no need to do it himself. Indeed, the list of topics on which he could otherwise occupy himself was lengthening at an alarming rate - they ranged from Elves, both the ones on his side and the ones (unfortunately) with no such allegiance, the Heartshard and the dwarf's somewhat nonsensical opinion on the subject, to the irritating abundance of stones where he really would have liked there to be smooth ground.

Perhaps this was the reason he didn't often sleep, the Phantom found himself thinking. Too many bloody topics to ponder.

And with this thought, he lapsed quite peacefully into unconsciousness.

_________________

The remainder of the day passed rather uneventfully. Each member of the party had a turn at keeping watch, but the only remotely exciting occurence was one of the horses distressing over an apparently delicious plant that was just out of its reach. Kjan had quickly (and cautiously) resolved this matter, and there was no further excitement afterward.

Kjan slept soundly when not on watch duty, waking up a little more than an hour before sunset. After lying on his back and staring at the sky for several minutes, he sat up and started to rummage through his sack for his pipe. He didn't tend to smoke so soon after waking, but it was something to do while he waited.

Sitting down on one of the many rocks that decorated their camp, Kjan nodded a silent greeting to Tomith, who had apparently taken it upon himself to watch in Silvryn's stead. It was remarkably peaceful, for once. The sky was cloudless and blue, with just the slightest hint of other hues beginning to tint the western horizon. No one was bickering or making death threats or grumbling about every possible thing that could go wrong.

It was almost disconcerting, given their penchant for attracting all sorts of misfortune. Indeed, Kjan found himself repeatedly glancing around warily, half-expecting some manner of fell thing to accost them at any moment. It simply wasn't right.

"So, you are Phantom Grey's confidant?"

Kjan looked up in surprise, taking a moment to register that it was Tomith who had spoken. He nodded slowly. "Something like that," he said at length, removing the stem of the pipe from his mouth. "Mostly I'm just the one who deals with anything that the Phantom can't be bothered to handle himself." He paused, then wryly added, "Which includes, on occasion, making sure that he doesn't get himself killed. He's rather fond of virtual suicide."

"He is a talented leader," Tomith observed. "We are endebted to him - to all of you - for your promised aid. It will be a difficult fight."

Kjan merely smirked and took another draw out of the pipe. "As I said, virtual suicide."

The Phantom, yawning, extricated himself from the clutches of his bedroll just as dusk was setting in. "Homicidal half-elf," he muttered groggily, which earned an expressive look from Eledhe that he luckily didn't notice.

He squinted at the horizon, and swiveled to raise an eyebrow at Kjan and Tomith. "Nothing?"

The elf gave what amounted to a shrug, and raised an eyebrow. "You lack an elvish dagger in your back, do you not?"

"That's a succinct way of putting it," muttered the Phantom, haphazardly fastening the clasp on his cloak with one hand and rifling through his pack for some of their dried meat with the other. "Right, time to go!" he declaimed to the varied still-slumbering party members.

In the subsequent sluggish attempt at a flurry of activity, Eledhe eyed their fearless leader from her position. She hadn't slept much, being disinclined to do so while there was the possibility of waking to meet a pair of amber eyes, and not especially requiring the rest. However, she felt strongly that unless they moved faster, they were practically inviting their pursuers to catch up and dispose, at their leisure, of who they wished.

She had a feeling that Silvryn and possibly the Phantom would be the only ones who escaped an unpleasant trip to the underworld, in that eventuality. Eledhe considered.

Getting to her feet, she hefted her pack and tucked the throwing star she'd been playing with into her pouch, taking a few unobtrusive steps in the princess' direction. Silvryn, too, had reason to desire that they avoid Raen's elves at all costs. As the elvish heir straightened from getting her own pack, Eledhe met her eyes.

"We need to move faster," she said bluntly, keeping her expression carefully blank. A glance toward the Phantom, and she turned back, keenly observing Silvryn's expression. Eledhe shifted position. "You were there," she continued. "You've seen him. You know what he's capable of."

The barest suggestion of a shrug. "We need to move faster."

_________________

Kjan chewed thoughtfully on a piece of meat as he watched Eledhe from a safe distance. "Do you think Eledhe's feeling alright?" he asked abruptly. Off the Phantom's look, he quickly added, "Not that she especially deserves to, of course, after her latest bit of double-crossing. I just meant that she seems a bit off. I've only heard her swear once in the past three days, I ran into her yesterday without receiving so much as a homicidal glare, and now she's actually talking to Lady Silvryn? Next thing you know, Dante'll be commenting on what a glorious day it is for a hike."


Silvryn, for her part, merely met the mercenary's gaze evenly. "I have seen," she agreed slowly. "And I would not wish to see again, but I fear that we are already moving as quickly as practical. Outpacing our pursuers serves little purpose if we all collapse upon reaching our destination. How long do you think it will take them to catch up, Tomith?"

The elf seemed to consider before replying. "Given our current speed, and accounting for the need to stop for rest...a day. Perhaps two, if we make better time this night. Raen's followers include many of our most skilled trackers. They will find us - that much is certain."

Eledhe shifted position almost imperceptibly, which would have been a sign of uneasiness in anyone but the mercenary. "In which case we point our weapons in the right direction and hope for the best, I suppose," she returned, deadpan. All three were silent for a minute, two elves and a half-elf contemplating what their fellow racial members might see fit to inflict on them, should they catch up, and then Eledhe turned, shrugging her pack up over both shoulders. "Right. Hope that works for you," she muttered under her breath, and went to grapple with her horse until it stood still long enough for her to mount.

The Phantom watched her go, looking vaguely wary of this new subdued Eledhe, and after a moment of contemplating it, got to his feet. "Perhaps..." he started, looking after her, and then shook his head. "Right. If Dante starts gushing about the lovely scenery, I'll accept that we've finally all gone insane."

And with that (though it was arguable that he was already insane), he too went to his horse.

_________________

There had been a boot in Dante's side, and he hadn't had a chance to grab the leg which belonged to it. Whether by mistake or just for a bit of intentional extra torment to his already aching limbs, the boot had left a small mark in his side, and the small mark in his side had left a very big mark in his ego.

Stumbling to his feet, he mumbled a few things about horses, elves, and boots.

"Can't we just stay here and die in a nice little place of peace?" he complained loudly, making a few vain attempts to mount the beast that had left him half blue on their previous ride. Good heavens, but it had been a long time since he'd rode a horse like that. "Do we really have to postpone the inevitable with miserable trompings?"

He finally heaved himself up on the beast, and stifled a groan as the certain sitting down place that made contact with the horse ached like no tomorrow.

"And," he whined, not for lack of a better thing to whine about, but because at the moment it was hard to even think straight, "Ash ate the last of the dried fruit."

_________________
<center>
"The piano is able to communicate the subtlest universal truths by means of wood, metal and vibrating air."

"I did not!" Ash protested at Dante's last comment, trying to get his horse to stand still at the same time. "Well, I might have eaten some fruit, but I know I saw Kjan and Jate eating it last night. Besides-"

He paused, finally getting a moment to mount, wincing as his sore legs protested. The horse whinnied and danced about until Ash had settled gingerly into the saddle.

"Besides, there wasn't that much left. I was just trying to lighten the packs. The less the horses have to carry, the faster they can move, you know." He smiled winningly, but it seemed the older man still wasn't happy about the fruit situation.

"Well," Ash faltered under Dante's glare, then kicked his heels against his horse's flanks, spurring it to a walk. "Are we on our way, then?"

"Oh sure, blame the new guy," Jate said with a smile at Ash. "And I thought you were finally starting to like me. Cheer up Dante. The up side to being murdered by elves is that it won't matter who at the fruit."

He walked slightly stiffly over to his horse. Naturally, the one left for him was the stubborn underworld-possessed one that caused trouble back in town. Jate was sure he could see an evil gleam in the bay's eye. And he was positive that horse had found every hole, pebble, rock, and puddle on their path as well. Eye to eye with the bay, Jate wrinkled his nose and turned down his mouth. "Now listen here....horse. I know your game. Don't let me catch you at it again today. You're my responsibility, so I get you food. You'd best watch yourself. And I think you need a name." He smiled. "Raba. The wild stallion of King Turrinya."

Mounting gingerly, Jate turned Raba to follow the others.

_________________
going on a journey through my old claims

The Phantom yawned jaw-crackingly as they coaxed the reluctant horses back out onto the trail, and spurred the horse beneath him into a brisk trot. It complied, thankfully, as he was decidedly not in a mood to boot a stubborn horse into movement. He found himself calculating how far they could move that day, and for reference (and possibly, though nobody would have caught him admitting it, reassurance) fished out his map and balanced it on the saddle horn.

He was perusing it with a great deal of frowning and squinting as he calculated things like distances and detours and convenient places to camp within riding distance, and was so immersed that he didn't notice when his gelding surreptitiously angled beneath the nearest tree with low, overhanging branches.

The Phantom's absentmindedness didn't extend to ignoring a mouthful of prickly leaves. He made protests in the form of spluttering noises, grabbing for the reins, and made an ignominious exit with spiny unnamed things in his hair.

"Lovely," he grumbled, leaning over both sides to hunt for the map and spitting leaves. No parchment to be found.

There was a suspicious crunching noise from in front and he yelped, grabbing for the gelding's head, and rescued a damp map that was a little the worse for wear. He was almost sure that the stifled snort of mirth behind him was Eledhe, too.

For the rest of the day the Phantom made a point of watching where he was going.

_________________

The Phantom was not the only one eager to cover as much ground as possible, and consequently it was several hours after sunrise when the party finally came to a halt. The trees were beginning to thin a bit, as they were in the foothills once more, but they were at last able to find a dense enough area with a clearing that would suffice as a camp. There was little conversation as everyone quickly ate, established who would be watching when, and then promptly fell asleep (excluding the one who was doing the watching).

The rest of the day passed smoothly, punctuated only by the changing of the watch and the occasional wildlife sound off in the woods. All slept more or less soundly, but lightly. Being pursued by murderous elves could do that to a person. Less than an hour before dark, however, that all abruptly changed.

"Get up," Tomith hissed urgently, kicking awake any unfortunate souls (such as Kjan) who happened to be rather preoccupied with sleeping at the moment. "Draw your weapons and do not allow yourselves to be separated. They are approaching."

"Your senses are dulled by the company you keep," a faintly accented female voice said from behind them. Seven more elves stepped into the clearing, seeming to grow from the shadows themselves. "We are already here."

Commander Aderit took a few steps forward, appraising the small band of rebels. "Phantom Grey," she acknowledged dryly, and not without a hint of condecension. "Give us the princess now, and we will make your passing brief and relatively painless. Fail to comply, and we may be slightly more inventive." The elves drew their blades as one, steel ominously reflecting the red sunset. "Your choice."