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- #41
The Pass of Three Rigors
In the morning, the escort rides back the direction you came. As you climb, you can feel eyes on your back from the watchtower. When the wind is right, you also get the impression you can hear their laughter.
There does appear to be an actual path, though this doesn’t become evident until the valley runs out and you start climbing switchbacks: clearly, there isn’t enough traffic to leave a trail until it reaches the point where it no longer has a choice but to. As it is, the “trail†is little more than marginally more level ground on the rising slopes. Certainly, no one has used it recently enough to leave any impressions in the grass. The carts soon begin to lose the ability to make headway; additional horses are hitched to each one… apparently they weren’t only meant for riding, as they accept their new duties with aplomb.
Around midday, a turned corner abruptly reveals level ground. A gorge, not visible from below, cuts between shoulders of rock, and for a few hundred yards the going is pretty tight. On the far side, however, a plateau materializes, and the next hour is easy enough. Coarse grasses and a few small but attractive flowers spread over most of it, dotted here and there with scrubby bushes and the occasional low, sparse-leaved tree. The slopes around the plateau feature more of the same, though with considerably less grass and a fair amount of exposed rock. The dogs are allowed to run free in groups of four at a time, and prove that whatever else their value, they are capable of catching the odd rabbit, gopher or stoat. Only one refuses to return when whistled for. Sigrelyn enters one of the wagons, and emerges a moment later bearing an eagle that looks like it could take off with her still attached if it cared to. She removes its hood, says “Fetch,†and looses it. Two minutes later, the dog is returning at full tilt, dodging dive-bomb runs that can’t be too serious since it doesn’t see most of them until the eagle is past it and rising again. The eagle returns to the glove, and is rewarded with a gopher, which Sigrelyn claims she doesn’t care for the taste of anyway.
“I didn’t realize you could train eagles to the hunt,†someone says.
“I didn’t. I don’t use animals to hunt,†the baroness responds.
“Then why did—â€
“I trained it for military intelligence.â€
Which effectively ends that conversation.
Once the plateau runs out, the way begins rising and falling, albeit with generally gentler slopes than the main climb early in the day, and it grows narrows once more—only this time, it isn’t between two higher elevations, but rather running along the side of one or another, with some rather precipitous dropoffs on the opposite one. More than once this requires making near half-circles around a peak before reaching a saddleback, followed by circling in the other direction around the next rise. By late afternoon, most of the party has no idea which way they’re facing. The occasional tumbled boulder or slide of smaller stones forces temporary halts as they’re cleared away. There are more than enough hands to cope with the latter, while most of the former are dealt with through the expedient of turning Manimus loose on them.
Jade is glad she went shopping. It really does get a lot cooler in these mountains, she thinks. Though none of the others seems to particularly notice.
Finally the downward paths start showing a tendency to outnumber the upward ones, and to be longer as well. Which is a good thing, as they do not become any wider, and most are now in shadow, as evening approaches. The caravan is rounding another of the endless switchbacks when a loud thunk is heard from a stone ricocheting off one of the rearward wooden-walled wagons… the sixth, the one devoted to the taxidermists. It is immediately followed by a couple lighter impacts. The dogs start raising a clamor.
Sigrelyn, positioned midway along the caravan, scans the slope—as do several others. More stones can be heard pattering down from above. Rising in her stirrups, she shouts “Get the wagons around that corner! Move!†Then she points well upslope for the benefit of the others, perhaps eighty or a hundred yards… with the hand that is not freeing her bow from its case.
A handful of largish silhouettes can be seen in that direction: the number is difficult to make out, given distance, lighting and their moving about, but there are at least four, perhaps more. They are clad in furs, and are engaged in attempts to dislodge bits of regional geography—a couple of them shoving stones downward, at least one of them rocking a small, projecting and poorly-rooted tree. The terrain provides them with considerable cover against archery. Unfortunately, it also makes a charge against them problematic… though there does appear to be a slightly easier way up, angling back from the caravan’s tail end.
Sigrelyn’s first arrow skewers the now-rocking tree. She mutters something very unbaronesslike.…
•
Jade and Heverik are near the front of the caravan, and cannot work against its flow very well.
Sigrelyn is remaining at the corner of the switchback, exhorting the drivers to greater effort between shots.
Bouldergut, Silver, Omar, Reaver, Manimus—choose:
(1) Stay with the caravan.
(2) Try to climb the slope.
You may recount your harrowing scrabble up the steep rocky slope while dodging various bits of debris if you want. Do not start writing any fight scenes yet, however. We'll get to that part tomorrow, once everybody's had a chance to pick a direction.
In the morning, the escort rides back the direction you came. As you climb, you can feel eyes on your back from the watchtower. When the wind is right, you also get the impression you can hear their laughter.
There does appear to be an actual path, though this doesn’t become evident until the valley runs out and you start climbing switchbacks: clearly, there isn’t enough traffic to leave a trail until it reaches the point where it no longer has a choice but to. As it is, the “trail†is little more than marginally more level ground on the rising slopes. Certainly, no one has used it recently enough to leave any impressions in the grass. The carts soon begin to lose the ability to make headway; additional horses are hitched to each one… apparently they weren’t only meant for riding, as they accept their new duties with aplomb.
Around midday, a turned corner abruptly reveals level ground. A gorge, not visible from below, cuts between shoulders of rock, and for a few hundred yards the going is pretty tight. On the far side, however, a plateau materializes, and the next hour is easy enough. Coarse grasses and a few small but attractive flowers spread over most of it, dotted here and there with scrubby bushes and the occasional low, sparse-leaved tree. The slopes around the plateau feature more of the same, though with considerably less grass and a fair amount of exposed rock. The dogs are allowed to run free in groups of four at a time, and prove that whatever else their value, they are capable of catching the odd rabbit, gopher or stoat. Only one refuses to return when whistled for. Sigrelyn enters one of the wagons, and emerges a moment later bearing an eagle that looks like it could take off with her still attached if it cared to. She removes its hood, says “Fetch,†and looses it. Two minutes later, the dog is returning at full tilt, dodging dive-bomb runs that can’t be too serious since it doesn’t see most of them until the eagle is past it and rising again. The eagle returns to the glove, and is rewarded with a gopher, which Sigrelyn claims she doesn’t care for the taste of anyway.
“I didn’t realize you could train eagles to the hunt,†someone says.
“I didn’t. I don’t use animals to hunt,†the baroness responds.
“Then why did—â€
“I trained it for military intelligence.â€
Which effectively ends that conversation.
Once the plateau runs out, the way begins rising and falling, albeit with generally gentler slopes than the main climb early in the day, and it grows narrows once more—only this time, it isn’t between two higher elevations, but rather running along the side of one or another, with some rather precipitous dropoffs on the opposite one. More than once this requires making near half-circles around a peak before reaching a saddleback, followed by circling in the other direction around the next rise. By late afternoon, most of the party has no idea which way they’re facing. The occasional tumbled boulder or slide of smaller stones forces temporary halts as they’re cleared away. There are more than enough hands to cope with the latter, while most of the former are dealt with through the expedient of turning Manimus loose on them.
Jade is glad she went shopping. It really does get a lot cooler in these mountains, she thinks. Though none of the others seems to particularly notice.
Finally the downward paths start showing a tendency to outnumber the upward ones, and to be longer as well. Which is a good thing, as they do not become any wider, and most are now in shadow, as evening approaches. The caravan is rounding another of the endless switchbacks when a loud thunk is heard from a stone ricocheting off one of the rearward wooden-walled wagons… the sixth, the one devoted to the taxidermists. It is immediately followed by a couple lighter impacts. The dogs start raising a clamor.
Sigrelyn, positioned midway along the caravan, scans the slope—as do several others. More stones can be heard pattering down from above. Rising in her stirrups, she shouts “Get the wagons around that corner! Move!†Then she points well upslope for the benefit of the others, perhaps eighty or a hundred yards… with the hand that is not freeing her bow from its case.
A handful of largish silhouettes can be seen in that direction: the number is difficult to make out, given distance, lighting and their moving about, but there are at least four, perhaps more. They are clad in furs, and are engaged in attempts to dislodge bits of regional geography—a couple of them shoving stones downward, at least one of them rocking a small, projecting and poorly-rooted tree. The terrain provides them with considerable cover against archery. Unfortunately, it also makes a charge against them problematic… though there does appear to be a slightly easier way up, angling back from the caravan’s tail end.
Sigrelyn’s first arrow skewers the now-rocking tree. She mutters something very unbaronesslike.…
•
Jade and Heverik are near the front of the caravan, and cannot work against its flow very well.
Sigrelyn is remaining at the corner of the switchback, exhorting the drivers to greater effort between shots.
Bouldergut, Silver, Omar, Reaver, Manimus—choose:
(1) Stay with the caravan.
(2) Try to climb the slope.
You may recount your harrowing scrabble up the steep rocky slope while dodging various bits of debris if you want. Do not start writing any fight scenes yet, however. We'll get to that part tomorrow, once everybody's had a chance to pick a direction.
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