Liam glanced at the road ahead of him. It didn't look right. Where were they heading? This seemed very odd, indeed. The trees were becoming a pale, ghostly color. He could almost feel the sunlight through them; see the outlines of other trees. He halted the company and motioned his woodsman forward. His woodsman looked pale. What did he know that the rest of them didn't? The men had fallen into light disarray again, bunching together in familiar groups that they used for fighting. "Sire? My Lord, what do you need?"
His eyes leveled at Junio. "Where are we? What direction are we headed, and if you do not know that, what does this place seem to be to you? Woodsman, I assume you know your lore. " He was disturbed by what was around them, in ways he could hardly describe.
The woodsman wasn't in much of a better position. "My Lord, it seems we are still heading in the direction that we should be. However, I feel that... I feel that we may be passing into their realm. The sprites seem to have led us into a dead place, someplace that the life has been sucked out of, by whatever force lives here. See, this seems to be the best explanation for... this." He held out a leaf that he had plucked from a tree, and when h rubbed it between his fingers, it turned to grey and began disintegrating into ash.
The Prince's lips tightened. "And why did you not see fit to notify me of this earlier?"
"My lord, I-" He was cut off as the Prince ordered his men to take him, tying him up and one escorting him to the back of the group. The Prince turned to his men, their murmurings and whisperings of fear reaching his ear and growing louder by the moment as they saw what happened. "Men! Fall in and parade! I know how many men we started out with, I wish to know how many we have now! Know your fighting brother! War groups pair together in line!" His orders were obeyed. There was a flurry as men lined up together in the groups they would fight in on the battlefield, feeling the safety in each other’s presence. However, not all of them were complete. Shouts went up as several soldiers were found to be missing. His eyes scanned the rows of four, picking out which ones were incomplete. One was left with only two men, while four others were missing one. Five men out of eighty-four. It wasn't a bad count, but it wasn't a comforting one, either. Two horsemen had also disappeared into the woods. Those were worse losses, but ones that they could deal with.
The names that were brought back revealed that four of the men had been suspected to run regardless- and Liam suspected they would not be seen again in this world- while the others were good soldiers. Two had been brought from the healing camp; the others had been the soldiers he had brought with to save the camp. His head bowed for a moment, and a quick prayer was sent up to the heavens on their accounts.
There was nothing else to do but go forward with the more extreme measures. "Rope out!" he bellowed, turning towards the men. This was an unusual order, but sometimes an effective one where people were likely to disappear. This would both cut down on the runaways and those who would be taken otherwise. Most of the time. The ones who were newer to the force, that had not heard it given in their lives, hesitantly brought out their short pieces of it that were necessary on the battlefield for traps and tricks to escape the enemy. Those who were older began to tie their lengths onto their belts, securing them tightly. Liam did not do so, nor did the rest of the cavalry- their maneuverability would be impeded if they were to do such a thing. However, the older soldiers proceeded to whisper instructions to their companions and the warriors that did not know what they were doing, and within minutes, squadrons had been tied together for their own safety. It was harder to run off when the fumbling to untie the things would attract so much attention, and taking four men was harder than one, if the beasties decided that they wanted more snacks.
It was somewhat awkward and embarrassing for the men who were in this, but at the same time Liam could see some relief on their faces. The safety that this gave- or at least the illusion of it- was something that would hearten them when worse things came. Liam wasn't even going to say 'if', at this point, it was 'when'. He turned to the front, and set off, as the whole squadron had been stopped while this had occurred. It was not something to do lightly, since even the foot soldiers would be impeded by such a maneuver, but it was the best he had at this moment. The leaves of the trees rustled around them, sending little drifts of ash over them, and sounding as dead as normal ones in the autumn. The dead sound, as mummified whispers of ancestors, sent shivers up the spines of the most hardened. This was not a place to trespass in. This was not a place to stay. Their paces quickened. There was a bend in the path ahead, and beyond it... the leaders of the soldiers' march called out in startled voices to each other. Their own mounts halted, and some began to panic and buck, throwing their riders.
Chaos began to reign, almost as badly as the sudden downpour that beset the large group. Cries were made at the greenish liquid that splattered on clothes and got in eyes. It was unpleasant, with a vague stinging sensation to accompany the mess that it was making. Liam had to call out loudly for his orders to be heard, to keep the men from panicking and bolting as the horses were tempted to do. Did, as he watched one dash off into the grey wilderness, rider less. As it was, two groups had fallen into the muddying ground, some of their members attempting to flee the strange and horrendous rain. Liam shuddered beneath it. They had to find shelter. "Into the trees! Into hollows! Be in sight of all others, do not go out of sight of everyone, and never untie your ropes! It will mean your death!"
Some of the squads happily obeyed dashing under the trees and some overgrowth that made some dry places to hide away and watch the others take cover. Liam was surrounded by his men and led to one. They stood surrounding him trying to ensure that he would not be overtaken by the miserable downpour that was covering everything in slime. That was what it felt like- pond scum, moss from the rocks... He rubbed it between his fingers and sniffed it, examining the texture and the scent. He was afraid to taste it, though. As it was the skin that it touched- virtually all of him that was uncovered, and even some of it that it has soaked into- was tingling unpleasantly, like a tickle that had gone on for too long or a brush that was too hard. He shuddered lightly and wiped his hand. When he looked at where it had been on him, his skin was slightly paler than it should have been, and wrinkled to boot. What on earth was this stuff?
Some cried were going out among the men, some who had gotten it in their eyes, or had dared to taste it and were finding it terribly disagreeable with their insides. He wanted to help, but as it was, it was safer to remain beneath the slight cover that the trees gave. From his vantage point, there were five squadrons visible. Liam gave more orders for the numbers to be counted off. Within minutes he had a count back- all were present and accounted for, minus one horse, which was no small relief given the circumstances. Now all that was left to do was wait for the rain to end. The ones who were injured by it would have to wait until then- he wasn't going to risk their healer in this, not when they didn't know what it was or what it would do.
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