From a distance, it appeared as if the carriage was going to plummet over the edge of a steep rise. There was no sign of it slowing as it approached a tight bend. The driver glanced behind him and snapped at the reins, shouting a command that sent the two lead horses into a smooth turn.
It was a risky move that made the two outer wheels of the carriage lose traction and spin over the edge of the climb. The carriage rocked wildly for an instant but then righted itself as the horses pulled forward and forced the wheels back onto solid ground.
Moments later, two riders thundered into view brandishing weapons and shouting fiercely. With only moonlight to guide them, they did not react as quickly as the carriage driver and one saw his plight too late. Both man and beast plummeted down towards the dark spires of trees and rocks below where both forms were swallowed by darkness and silence.
The second rider tried to halt his mount too sharply as it skidded in fright. He wrestled to stay in control but he lost his balance as the horse reared up on hind legs and tilted him over the edge to join his comrade below. His mount danced on the spot for a while before retreating with a fearful snort.
Allowing himself a small smile, the driver of the carriage eased back and slowed the horses down. He gave a guilty look back realizing the last few miles had been fraught and the occupant he was transporting was likely cowering in fear. A few arrows protruded from the heavy wooden doors but none had penetrated very far. This was a royal battle carriage and very few weapons could breach its solid design.
Still, he decided they should get to the destination as quickly as possible to reach some level of safety. They had left the city of Trilisus with an armed guard of twelve and now it was just the carriage driver and his traveller left. Such were the perils of travelling through Darkhaven and the Jagged Woods.
There were bandits and thieves everywhere in the region. It had not been long before they were set upon and had been stalked for two days. The last of the chasing bandits were now dead, the driver lost count of how many the guardsmen had slain but there would always be more.
Darkhaven was a shameful blemish to the lands of Southvale. A network of corruption and shady dealings plagued the area. A black market thrived, criminal masterminds using it as a base to run their empires. Anything from slavery to stolen goods were legal in Darkhaven, no single authority ruled there. It had once been a place to send men and women with no worth to society. Sadly, those wretches had somehow formed their own institution which was now a thriving den of illicit trade.
Thankfully their target was not the city of Darkhaven but a small garrison to the north west of it. Some cities still exiled their worst criminals to Darkhaven where public execution was becoming less frequent in light of more civilised methods. Some thought it was a poor deterrent for repeat offenders but others considered it just as good as a death sentence. Life expectancy within Darkhaven was not high unless you served in the upper echelons of the black market. Why fill the dungeons in their own city when they could be transferred elsewhere with an almost guaranteed death sentence?
Darkhaven was a natural prison, it sat centralized on an almost circular spit of land with only one heavily guarded narrow stretch of road leading to it. The circumference was sheer rock face which was heavily battered by the fierce ocean making escape by ship almost impossible. A number of garrisons surrounded the island to prevent any escape attempts. The soldiers were often disgraced misfits and mutineers from various militia units across the lands that were given the choice of guarding Darkhaven or joining it.
One such garrison loomed before them as the carriage crested a rise and a flat piece of land. The jagged woods were well named dues to the rocky ground and black elm trees whose branches could cut a man to pieces. The carriage driver breathed a small sigh of relief as he guided the horses and vehicle into the wide open gate. No guards greeted them and none walked the parapets of the small courtyard.
That was hardly surprising though, this was not a normal garrison. It was a place for the sick. Not necessarily of the body but of the mind. Some considered the inmates insane, possessed or cursed and they were sent to the dungeons below this garrison for healers and surgeons to study and cure. Few ever left this place though, even if they were cured, travelling back through the Jagged Woods could be fatal.
Numerous bandits and thieves lay in wait for unwary stragglers and a large group had been particularly troublesome recently. The path to this particular garrison had been relatively safe but a number of outposts had been overrun leaving the prison garrison essentially shut off. And thus, healers and surgeons had stopped coming and this place had become little more than a prison within a prison.
The driver was not on a mission to retake the garrison nor to clear the area of bandits although it seemed he had achieved both of those goals. Instead, his instructions had been to get his passenger to this place by royal decree no less. He stopped the horses and hurriedly removed his dust coated hat and lowered the scarf around his nose and mouth. There was a small hand crossbow by his side which he deftly loaded and then leapt to the ground.
His face was flushed and clean shaven, no more than thirty winters old. A cloth headband kept long black hair out of his keen dark eyes. The driver glances around high and low, looking for signs of movement around the garrison. There were several places that could conceal a hidden bowman. He did not stray from the carriage, instead he launched a crossbow bolt into a thick area of shadows and quickly reloaded.
No body staggered from the shadows with an arrow in his chest. It was a simple flushing tactic to make anybody hiding suddenly reveal themselves. The driver crouched close to the carriage as he scanned the entire garrison, launching another two bolts into areas which revealed no hidden forms.
Satisfied that no ambush was waiting for them, the driver jogged to the gates and shouldered each of the double doors closed before barring them. Two burning wall torches burned brightly at the far side of the garrison, either side of a large oaken door reinforced with iron studs. He had no idea if the bandits or militia still held the dungeons but they were about to find out.
He rolled some empty barrels into the centre of the courtyard, placing them strategically so if any bandits came out of the door they would not have a straight run at him. It also provided some cover if an archer popped up from somewhere and decided to try and use him as a target.
Taking one last glance around the garrison, the driver turned and jogged back towards the carriage. He rapped on the passenger door with his knuckles and waited a few moments before speaking softly.
'Miss? We have arrived,' battle carriages did not open from the outside to add additional security to those within. The lock clicked and the heavy side door opened a crack.
The driver slid his fingers into the partition and pulled the door open further. Inside was sparsely furnished with only two wooden benches and a number of leather straps dangling from the ceiling like withered snakes. These things were not made for comfort but for war and the straps were used by soldiers to steady themselves while standing so they could surge from the carriage at a moment's notice.
No soldiers awaiting inside though, just a young woman sitting on one the benches with a closed book resting on her knees. She wore simple travel garments but there was something about her which resonated calm and peace. She removed a pair of half rim spectacles and folded them carefully to look at the driver with large soulful brown eyes.
'Milady?' He offered, relieved to see she appeared unhurt and unfazed by their trek.
'I am so sorry,' she said quietly and bowed her head slightly. Simple words but said with so much compassion and regret that it brought a lump to the driver's throat.
'I...erm...Sorry?' He stammered in response.
'For the loss of your comrades,' she explained in that honey smooth tone. 'Did you know them well?'
The driver looked around a little alarmed, he did not expect this line of questioning on the cusp of an important mission. 'Oh, no. I can't say I did know them that well. The life of a soldier I guess.'
The young woman nodded and blinked her eyes in agreement. 'They were very brave. They must love their prince very much.'
The driver bowed his head curtly and raised a fist to his heart in a military salute. 'The prince must return milady.'
Prince Herrod was heir to the throne of Trilisus until a terrible sickness had befallen him. It had begun with just simple transgressions like mood swings and forgetfulness but then his behaviour had become ever more erratic and violent. When he had arrived at a state occasion in just his undergarments and smeared in his own excrement then the king and queen had taken drastic action.
They had sent him to Darkhaven asylum and transported the best medicine men and women to him. His treatment was kept secret from prying eyes and public speculation. Time had passed and the Prince was getting no better. Even the royal family were finding their requests denied due to the danger of travelling to Darkhaven. The King and Queen had only two other daughters who had both married into other royal families and they were both too old to sire another child.
With recent tensions in the area rising, the king had called upon the bounty hunters guild who had recommended the young woman sitting in the carriage. The small unit charged with her protection had met her only briefly on the night they had left Trilisus. There had been rumblings all evening among the guards about how one so young could hope to stand a chance. However, the mission had been sanctioned by royal decree and they were all sworn to do their duty. This young healer may be the Prince's last chance.
Still it was hard to believe she could succeed where so many others had failed. She carried no weapons, just a large canvas sack at her feet which she carefully tucked her book back into. The driver realized he was staring at her as she stood and busied herself unpacking some items from her bag. She had her back to him and he couldn't help but admire her long braid trailing down her back and a very attractive rear.
When she laid a neatly folded white robe on the bench, the driver took it as his queue to turn his gaze elsewhere while she changed. He left the door partially open a crack and stood guard outside the door, his crossbow ready and eyes focused on the dungeon door.
'Driver?' The young bounty hunter called softly from within the carriage.
He quickly pulled the door open and nearly collapsed with embarrassment. The young woman was standing there completely naked, her robes draped over one arm. Her breasts were large with brown nipples, her waist tapered and belly flat with a neat line of hair between her legs. His face went beetroot red as he stared, frozen in place. She did not seem to take offence though as she shook out her robes, making her breasts jiggle and shake.
'What is your name?' She asked politely, bending forward slightly as she stepped into her robes.
The driver wanted to mutter all sorts of apologies but instead he could only manage the command she had given him. 'Dray, m-m-milady.'
