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The hawk continued to follow them and the owl took over at night. Aein, Finn, and Lars had long since abandoned trying to outwit the birds. No matter what side route they took, no matter how they tried to hide their steps, the birds always found them.
The length of time between when the raptors disappeared and when they arrived at first shortened as Aein, Finn, and Lars crossed into Lord Arnkell's land, and then lengthened as they made their way to the swamp.
"So do you think that means Lord Arnkell is tracking us?" mused Lars as the hawk appeared once more in the sky. Finn gave a deep throated growl.
"It follows logic," replied Aein, but she almost choked on the words. There was an insistent voice inside of her that said it was not the case at all.
Places for birds that large to land became sparse. The pine gave way to the bare branches of scrawny trees. The birds spent their time circling high overhead. Aein tried to shake the feeling they were being watched like a buzzard watches carrion.
Lars ran his long fingers through his wavy, auburn hair. Even though it was winter, his pale skin had freckled from all the time outdoors. "You would think Lord Arnkell would be grateful that we're trying to pick up the pieces he dropped."
"Perhaps that is why he has not yet attacked. Perhaps as long as we are headed towards the swamp, he will leave us alone."
"That would require him to actually feel gratitude," Lars pointed out. "And I have to say that in all my years living at the stronghold, that was never a quality I saw in him."
Aein couldn't argue.
"I wonder what he wants," mused Lars.
Aein thought back to the night that Lord Arnkell left her to be ripped apart by the wild wolves. If it had not been for Lars and Finn, she would have been dead. While he tied her to the tree, one of his men had eaten a berry from her bag. She wondered if Lord Arnkell had put the pieces together and figured out why one of his werewolves had gone sane.
Lars shifted in his saddle. "How much further do you think we have to go?"
"You tell me. You've been here more often. I was usually traveling this road on galloping horseback."
"We could gallop a bit," mentioned Lars.
The time on the road seemed both a luxury and a prison. She could not wait to get off of her horse day after day. But she knew what waited for them at the end, and that made every moment spent outside of the swamp a thing to be relished and enjoyed.
Finn was busy scouting ahead. From time to time, he would check in on them, his silvery scar stark against his black fur. But from his relaxed gait, it felt like there was nothing to worry about.
"Let's go," said Aein.
They clicked their heels and were off at a fast pace. The wind was in their face. The gloom of the prior days dissipated. There was nothing but the joy of the ride.
But that was when the trees disappeared. They pulled their horses to a walk and Aein chewed the inside of her lip. She knew they were close, she just did not realize how close. The land had given way to the marsh outside the swamp. The dirt road changed to the wooden piers built through the bog. Even fearless Finn stopped, as if the wolf had to summon his courage to keep going.
Aein squinted. The falcon was there watching them. As she urged her horse forward, the falcon took off in the opposite direction.
"It appears it saw what it needed to see," noted Aein.
"Not even a spy is getting paid enough to go into a swamp," commented Lars.
"I suppose they figure whatever we find in there, we deserve," replied Aein, trying to ignore the pounding in her chest. She looked over at Lars. He was so pale. "Are you ready?" she asked.
He nodded. "It is not going to get any easier." He reached behind and got his helmet from his bag, fixing it upon his head. "Would hate to have something drop out of the swamp and knock me out of my saddle..."
They proceeded in silence, the emptiness of their horses' hooves muffled on the wood of the road. As they approached the mangroves of the swamp, it was like the fog had been waiting for them the entire time. The old pains in Aein's body began to ache, like a rainstorm was rolling in. It was as if the fog knew where her weakness was and how to make her hurt.
Lars pulled his horse to a stop and slumped forward. Aein reached out to him, resting her hand upon his back.
"Are you all right?" she asked, gently.
He nodded, swallowing as if trying to fight down nausea. "It just struck me harder than I expected," he replied. There was a vulnerability to him, this big, strong man struggling to find the courage to go back into this place of nightmares.
Aein stroked his arm. "Take all the time you need."
The relief washed across his face when he understood she accepted this moment not as a sign of weakness, but as an appropriate reaction to their situation. He breathed deep.
Finn sat at the entrance to the swamp, waiting for them. Lars looked up and spotted the wolf. He shouted, "Show off!"
Finn gave a bark, and then bent down as if getting ready to play.
"Can't let myself be shown up by some dog," muttered Lars, pulling himself together. "Let's go in."
He clicked his heels against the side of his horse, who had picked up on the mood. It shied and tried to dance away, but Lars gripped with his legs tightly and steered it back. The horse reared up, trying to unseat him, but Lars pressed on.
"Go ahead!" said Lars to Aein. "Maybe it'll follow if it sees everyone else is going in."
Aein rode her horse towards the entrance, leading the pack horse behind. It didn't seem to help. Lars's horse was still bucking, but then suddenly, it bolted.
Blinded by panic, the horse must have thought the bog around them was firm soil. It ran off the road and the mud swallowed the animal up to its belly. Lars leaped off to try and remove some of the weight, sinking in to his thighs. He grabbed the horse's reins and tugged its head back towards the road. Even though death was at their door, the horse bucked and struggled, preferring to disappear beneath the surface of the bog rather than face whatever was in the swamp.
Aein's heart was in her throat watching Lars fight this struggling animal. She spurred her horse towards them, hoping she would get there in time. She leaped off of the back of her steed and ripped through her saddlebags looking for the rope to throw to them. Her hands shook as she opened the ties. She told herself that Lars did not survive everything he had endured just to die because of some terrified horse. She told herself that she would get him out. But the animal would not be calmed.
Time morphed - to stretch into forever while seeming like it sped up. She was sure years had passed and there was no way they could still be alive. It had only been moments, though. She grabbed the rope, tied it around her saddle, and threw the end to Lars. He grabbed it and looped it around his horse's head. If they could just get the animal going in the right direction, it would be all right, she kept telling herself.
It was then Finn took matters into his own hands. He ran out on the boardwalk and then, with a mighty leap, he jumped into the bog. Aein stifled back a cry as she saw the wolf's body sink, but he struggled on, coming up behind the horse to herd the animal towards safety. Horses and werewolves usually were neutral with one another. The wild werewolves only hunted human flesh and the horses seemed to have figured it out. But not this time.
Step by fearful step, Finn drove Lars’s horse back towards the road, nipping at his hindquarters. Aein drove her own horse forward, keeping the rope taut so Lars's mount knew which direction to go. The sound of the wolf snarling and barking, the screams and pants of the horse, the sound of Lars shouting at the animal to keep it fighting - Aein knew they would color her nightmares. Finally, half dragging the animal out of the bog, the horse was on the road. Its ears were pressed against the back of its head and its eyes were white with terror.
"Shhhh! Shhhh! Shhhh!" Aein whispered, trying to calm it.
Though its breath was heaving in its sides and exhaustion should have quieted it, it snapped and bit and kicked whenever she tried to get near it. She needed the rope and it was not cooperating.
Lars was sinking fast into the mud. Every step was making it worse. The weight of his armor was dragging him down. Finn leapt and paddled to his side, but they were both in terrible danger. Aein ran back to her saddle, throwing everything on the ground and rooting through the mess for something which might work. She grabbed her bow, laid down on the road, and reached it out to Lars, using it as an extension of her arm. He struggled and fought, half walking, half swimming, until the tips of his fingers reached the tip of the wood. The mud was up to his chest. Aein pulled with all her might. Lars wrapped his arm around Finn's torso and hauled him along. Aein cried out from the exertion, trying to keep focused on getting her friends to safety and not getting trampled by Lars's fool horse. Finally, Lars's fingertips touched the road.
Aein leaned out and wrapped her hands around Lars's wrists, ready to haul him out, but instead, he shouted at Finn. "Climb up my back!"
She could almost see the wheels in Finn's mind spin, wanting to protest against getting out first, but the wolf relented. Using Lars's back as a ladder, the wolf scrambled his way to safety.
And then Aein pulled with all her might. Lars already outweighed her, but with the armor and the weight of the muck, she feared she might go into the bog with him. She managed to get him to the road. He rested his elbows on the wooden slats. Lars swung one leg up, his toe catching the side, but couldn't hold it and fell again. He was exhausted and had to pause to gather his strength, but the mud would not let him. Finn paced back and forth, searching for some way to help.
Aein leaned down and wrapped her arms under Lars's armpits. He clung to her neck like a frightened child. She wriggled herself into a sitting position and leaned back, using all of Lars’s weight to fall backwards. He came out of the muck with a squelching sound. They lay there for several moments, too exhausted to move. Finn came over and desperately began licking both their faces.
"I'm okay! I'm okay," protested Lars, pushing him away. "Just give me a minute." Finn stepped back, shifting back and forth on his haunches as if ready to leap upon them again the moment they recovered.
Lars rolled off of Aein and fell beside her, his head resting on her arm as they caught their breath.
"Thanks," he said, opening up his eyes just long enough to look at her. He tapped his palm on his heart. "I thought I was done for."
Aein rolled over and hugged him tight. Her body was still shaking from terror. She thought she had lost him and in those moments it had felt like the whole world was going to end. She never wanted to let go of him ever again. "You're welcome," she whispered.
The moment was broken as Finn began to whine and bark. Aein turned her head to see what was disturbing him. "It's that damned bird again," she grunted.
"Maybe we should play dead," said Lars. "I feel like I could play dead very well right now."
Finn continued barking, the insistence in his voice becoming clearer.
Lars rolled onto his side, pausing for a moment on his hands and knees before pushing himself up to a standing position. He held out his hand to Aein. "Duty calls."
Aein struggled to her feet. She was encrusted in a layer of filthy brown. Finn and Lars were in even worse shape, covered from head to foot in muck.
Lars turned and rested a hand on Finn's shoulder. "Thank you," he said.
The wolf gave a whine.
Lars walked to his terrified horse and was able to unwind the rope from around its neck. "Idiot animal. Don't you know we execute soldiers who desert?" He removed a shirt from his bedroll and tied it over the animal's eyes like a mask. Immediately, it calmed down. He gave it an understanding slap on its shoulders. "Don't worry, my friend. I feel the same way. No one goes willingly into the swamp if they know what is in there."
As if to punctuate his words, a biting wind blew down the planks of the road. Aein tried to tell herself it was just because the temperature was cooler beneath the trees, but she couldn't shake the sense that something watched in the shadows. She shivered.
As they walked into the swamp, the fog was still present, but it did not wrap around them like it had in the past. Aein wondered what had distracted it. To generate fear seemed to be its only reason for existence.
Moss dripped from bare branches like spider webs. A layer of bright green algae covered the water, rippling sluggishly as it lapped the roots of the trees. They walked on and soon came to the clearing with the bush. Aein peered in. Though the bush was still there, there was no sign of anyone from the Haidra kingdom.
"Where is the guard?" she murmured to Lars.
He shook his head, as mystified as her. Finn crept beside them. The fur on his back was raised, but not aimed at anything in particular.
They continued on for hours. Aein stifled the urge to call out to see if anyone was there. She didn't want to attract unwanted attention. The tension was so thick, it made her want to run and hide like a mouse. Neither Lars nor Finn made a sound. Even their horses seemed to step lightly.
The road led to the campground where she and Lars had spent the first night, the night when he first transformed into a wolf and killed the guard. He had been trapped here the rest of the time, slowly going insane.
But while the fog had kept back from them during their journey, this time it blocked their way completely, cutting off the road like a curtain. Lars pulled his horse to a stop. He tugged at the neck of his armor as if the metal was cutting off his breath. Aein reached over and gripped his hand, asking silently if he was able to go on. Finn waited as Lars wrestled his feelings under control. Finally, he nodded and all three of them stepped into the mist.
At first it was just white and grey. Then came the sounds. The snuffling, breathing sounds. Then the noise of angry jaws snapping and biting. It was just a trick of the fog, she told herself.
"That was me..." Lars's voice cracked.
And then they were through. The campground sat before them, the wooden road gone as the land rose above the marshy waterline.
"They're dead," whispered Aein in horror. "They are all dead."