Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Abird flying high above would never know this mountain was anything special.
A person riding past its cracks and crevasses could miss its secrets entirely.
The people in the nearby towns told tales of children being snatched into the depths and trysting lovers, never to be seen again.
The rest of the passersby were either uninterested, unimpressed, or just plain scared of the dark.
Of course, many a foolhardy man had entered and lost his way, but no fantastical thing lurked like the rumors said.
The only thing these caves had to offer was muck and dirt.
The passages were known by some of the rougher mercenaries of the area.
Alex, always on the lookout for shortcuts and hiding spots, had heard enough whispers in taverns to take her chances and explore the caves herself.
She found them to be a benign, albeit smelly, way to skirt the distance around the mountain range.
There were many parts inside that even opened into glorious caverns, giving light and air and making the spaces much more welcoming and accessible than they appeared to those who had not the spine to explore its depths.
And now, Alex was leading Philippe and his men into the depths of this secret territory.
They had set out at dawn and taken the two-hour ride to the first, most well-known entrance.
Franc and Auguste, along with a handful of Ponce guards, had been stationed at the mouth.
The party had then traveled along the north side of the mountain, where the grounds had changed from grassy meadows into rocky slate.
There, they found the other known entrance and left more guards.
From that point, the remaining members had continued around the mountain, across a deep canyon filled with thistle bush, over a rocky plateau, and back down to the sparsely forested base of the mountain, where they would find the last entrance, the one they hoped would give them an advantage.
Their goal was to either flush the marauders out or trap them inside, at which point they would use whatever methods needed in order to extract their secrets.
The wind picked up and Alex adjusted her shawl around her head.
This area of the mountain was difficult to read.
Hundreds of cracks, clefts, and wormholes in the jutting rock falsely promised to lead them into the bowels of the mountain, but Alex knew where to find the only one that truly would.
Had she not followed a little trail of water on a whim one time from inside the caves, she would never have found the hidden entrance.
Philippe was right behind her. She felt his impatience to get inside, but she knew he was holding back so as not to rush her.
Alex scanned the rock as they narrowed in on a small clearing.
A stream had cut a path in the rock long ago but had died many spring times before.
Alex dismounted her horse, picked through the dirt, and felt along the rock wall.
She followed a large crack running horizontally with her hands until it dipped into a crevasse.
There she kicked away debris which disguised a triangle-shaped divide that opened to the dirt.
There were trees rooted around it and into the dark rock which led up the mountain.
“Here,” she said.
“This is it?” asked Henri. “This is nothing more than a crack in the rock.”
Alex reached forward and pulled back a knotted thick of branches, revealing more of the opening. Light penetrated the dark space. “This is intentional,” she said. “Someone has tried to obstruct and hide the entrance. I would bet this is their main entry point.”
“Ridiculous,” said Henri. “How could you possibly tell one of these holes from another?” He turned to Maurice and lowered his voice, “It probably doesn’t go in more than ten feet.”
Maurice raised his brows in agreement and Alex noticed a few other nods throughout the group.
“Ah, Henri, have I not earned your trust yet?” Alex jested, putting her hand on her hip.
Philippe alone seemed uninterested in Henri’s comment. He pulled a few more tangles of root away and stood before the entrance. “And this leads us to the central cavern?”
Alex appreciated his trust in her. “It will come to a large cavern which collects water from several different springs and streams,” she said, indicating the direction with her hands.
“It then splits and heads towards the two outlets. There are several offshoots, but the water marks are easy enough to follow.” She rested her hands on her hips.
“This entry will lead us to the main cavern, where ten, fifteen men could comfortably sleep. The path from the back entrance is deeper and more dangerous, but that comes to the cavern as well.” She toed a dead branch, and it rolled aside.
“The main entrance connects too, but it is twisty and slower to travel.”
The men stood staring at the little gaping hole. Alex could feel their reluctance about entering it.
“Well,” said Philippe. “Let’s hope we can ambush them in the cavern and be on our way back to Chevalerie tomorrow.”
Alex watched as the men hesitated and kicked at the dirt, obviously not so thrilled about this leg of the journey.
“Torches,” instructed Alex.
They took a moment to strike a fire and light several torches. Philippe dipped into the cave ahead of them.
“What will we find in there, Alex?” asked Maurice. “Animals, I mean.”
“Bats,” she said. “They’ll get in your hair. And tuck your stockings nice and tight. I traveled with a man once who wore loose trousers and a snake scooted up and bit him in a very disturbing place.”
She laughed to herself as the men hustled to check their stockings. It wasn’t really true, but that’s what they get for doubting her.
Philippe popped out of the cave, eager for movement. “Let’s go.”
Her eyes, sharp like a fox’s, led them into the dark.
Alex was confident, knowledgeable, and fierce in leading this group.
In moments like this when everyone depended on her, Alex really enjoyed being a guide.
She had a vast understanding of the countryside and of ways to avoid trouble.
Plus, she was always eager for the chance to share her skills with people who needed help.
But most of the time, the people who hired her just wanted her to stay mute and point in the correct direction, making her little more useful than a compass.
Turns out, the direction she had chosen for her life was not particularly exciting and certainly less than fulfilling.
Over the years, she had met some good men and cultivated a few working relationships.
But she was never free of worry, and she always had to be ready to protect herself.
That meant she rarely found moments just to enjoy the people around her, which she had found herself doing with this crew.
Alex often grieved for a different life.
She remembered her time in Chevalerie very fondly, and though she felt guilty admitting it, every wish about her future ended up back there.
Alex knew she had no right to go back. She had let her emotions run out of control when she was there, and there was no way she could ever make amends for bringing dishonor to the family that had cared for her.
But maybe—she still held out hope—if she did well on this journey.
If she brought Philippe and the men to the rebels.
If she aided in their chase and capture.
Perhaps then, enough of her penance would be paid so that she could eke out a home for herself in Chevalerie once more.
Maybe rent a room at a little farmhouse outside the city, and put poppies on her own sunny windowsill?
The desire filled her dreams, day and night.
She clung to that hope, which prodded her to do her best. With that in mind, she moved forward, with her crew behind her, into the dark.
With a few coughs and shudders, the group took their first tentative steps inside the cave.
The ground was wet, and each step sank into the dirt with a pop.
The first ten feet were the most disturbing, the ceiling only a few inches above Alex’s head while the others had to crouch to fit.
The musty smell of rotting vegetation was thick in their noses, and their eyes were reluctant to give up the light of day.
But soon the passageway opened at least ten feet high, allowing them to wave their torches around freely.
The cave constricted and grew like a snake digesting a meal, but even the narrowest parts could fit the men side by side.
Water seeped through the cracks in the walls.
In the spring, melting snow would create a stream that would thrash about through the caves, but at the moment it was no more than a trickle.
Alex led them, her eyes scanning every detail.
The ground spoke of travel, with no distinguishable footprints but plenty of slips and ridges that wouldn’t form naturally.
The trail was faint, but it was there. Every ominous fork in the road tested her expertise, and she held her breath until she could confirm the trail again.
As they moved further, the markings began to speak of panic.
Clumsy boot prints, broken rock, every blemish told its own story, and Alex began to piece it all together the further they travelled.
She bent to observe a sharp edge of broken rock and made a quick decision about which way to continue.
Meanwhile, Philippe’s presence behind her was as thick as the stone around them.
It could have unnerved her, but in fact, it made her feel secure.
They were a good team, she thought. A strong team.
And though she could never be many things to him, she was happy to know she had this opportunity to be his guide.