CHAPTER 80: THE WEIGHT OF FAILURE (1)

First light crawled across the ridge, revealing what the darkness had mercifully hidden. Soren stared at the remnants of what had once been a proud hunting party, now reduced to hollow-eyed survivors clutching weapons they’d proven unable to use. The camp stirred with the reluctant movements of the defeated, men who had survived only to carry their shame home.

He pressed a hand against the shard beneath his shirt, its familiar coldness offering no comfort this morning. Valenna remained silent, as if waiting for something. Or perhaps judging him for his lies.

Across the makeshift camp, Lord Ashgard stood like a weathered statue, surveying his diminished command with steel-gray eyes that revealed nothing of his thoughts. His armor, practical and unadorned, bore new dents and scratches from the night’s carnage. Unlike the other nobles, he made no attempt to hide the evidence of their failure.

"We move," Ashgard said, the words falling like stones in the morning stillness. No rousing speech. No assurances of future victory. Just the bare necessity of continued survival.

Knights limped to their mounts, wincing as damaged bodies protested. Horses stood with heads hanging low, ribs visible beneath sweat-matted coats.

No one bothered to unfurl the house banners that had been so proudly displayed days before. They remained rolled and secured, their bright colors hidden as if in acknowledgment of their shame.

Soren helped the Ashgard knights secure Kaelor to a makeshift litter between two horses. The Swordmaster’s breathing came shallow but steady, his face pale beneath its network of old scars. Fever had broken sometime in the night, though whether that meant recovery or merely a different phase of dying, Soren couldn’t tell.

"The boy returns from the forest unharmed," Harrick’s voice carried deliberately across the camp. "While better men lie dead."

Soren kept his head down, focusing on tightening the straps that held Kaelor secure. The suspicion that had begun as whispers now flowed openly, following him like a shadow he couldn’t outrun.

"Form up," called an Ashgard captain, her voice cutting through the murmurs. "By houses. We move in five minutes."

The column that assembled bore little resemblance to the proud hunting party that had ridden out days before. Gaps showed where knights had fallen. Spaces between houses widened as survivors clustered with their own, eyeing former allies with newfound suspicion.

Soren found himself riding beside Kaelor’s litter, the Ashgard knights having silently assigned him this position, whether from kindness or to keep him under observation, he couldn’t tell. Either way, it placed him apart from the main column, which suited him perfectly.

They set out as the sun cleared the eastern hills, moving at the cautious pace of those who expect ambush at any moment. The forest path that had seemed so promising on their outward journey now felt like a green tunnel back to disgrace.

’They blame you for surviving,’ Valenna’s voice finally broke through, cold as morning frost. ’As if death were the only honorable outcome.’

Soren glanced at the knights ahead of him, their backs rigid with more than physical pain. ’Can you blame them? They lost friends. Brothers.’

’And you gained knowledge they’ll never possess,’ she replied. ’The difference between you grows with each breath you take.’

The column wound through dense woodland, hooves muffled by the carpet of fallen needles. Where they had once ridden with songs and boasts, now only the creak of leather and occasional cough broke the silence.

Banners that had snapped proudly in the breeze remained furled, their bright colors hidden like shameful secrets.

Near the front of the column, tensions simmered visibly. Trescan knights glared at their Dravien counterparts, blame passing between them without need for words. House Karvath’s survivors rode in tight formation, muttering among themselves about who had broken first, who had shown cowardice.

"Abandoned us," a Trescan knight hissed, loud enough to carry. "Left our flank exposed."

A Dravien captain’s head snapped around. "Your lord was already mounted and fleeing when mine fell."

"Enough." Ashgard didn’t raise his voice, yet the single word silenced both men instantly.

Behind them all rode Lord Lanther, his fine clothes torn and stained, his face a mask of grief hardened into something dangerous. He stared at the trail before him with unseeing eyes, occasionally muttering to himself.

"Vengeance," Soren caught the word as they rounded a bend. "Blood answers blood."

The shard pulsed cold against Soren’s chest. ’Grief makes men simple,’ Valenna observed. ’Reduces them to creatures of instinct. His son is dead, so someone must pay. The target matters less than the satisfaction.’

Soren watched the grief-maddened lord with a mixture of pity and wariness. Such men were unpredictable, and often looked for convenient scapegoats.

Midday came and went without a proper rest. They stopped only long enough to water the horses and check on the wounded before pressing onward. Ashgard set a pace that acknowledged their injuries without yielding to them, steady progress over comfort.

During one such brief stop, Kaelor stirred on his litter, his single eye opening slowly. The Swordmaster looked disoriented at first, gaze drifting across the canopy above before focusing on Soren.

"Water," he croaked, voice rough from disuse.

Soren knelt beside him, holding a waterskin to cracked lips. Kaelor drank sparingly, each swallow seeming to cost him effort.

"The others?" he asked when he’d finished.

"More than half made it," Soren replied, keeping his voice neutral. "Ashgard leads us back to Northaven."

Kaelor’s eye narrowed slightly. "You." He paused, gathering strength. "You went into the forest last night."

The statement hung between them, its implications clear. Soren felt his throat tighten, the lie he’d prepared suddenly sticking like a bone.

"What did you see?" Kaelor pressed, his voice weak but determined.

Soren hesitated, acutely aware of nearby knights who had paused in their tasks, heads tilting slightly toward the conversation.

"Nothing," he said finally. "Only shadows. I thought I heard something, but..." He let the sentence trail off with a shrug. "The woods play tricks after what we saw."

Kaelor studied him, his single eye revealing nothing.