Hoxley planted her pugil on the ground and watched over them, listening to the sounds of the night. Night birds sang in their nests, and insects chirped their songs. Here and there, bats swooped against the outline of the moon as they collected the insects for their meals. No shadows broke the contrast of the lighter dirt on the main trail. No travelers. It was in these quiet hours that Hoxley reflected on everything that had happened in the past two days. Her fingers slipped beneath her waistband to produce the receipt with the prince’s handwriting on it. He’d accomplished a dirty trick by pulling her into his world. Why did it feel like she’d pulled a dirtier one by stealing back a small slip of paper? She’d never stolen anything in her life. Conflicting little voices of her conscience whispered in her ears.

  “ Said one.

  “

  Said the other. “

  

  “

  “

  Hoxley tucked the receipt back into her waistband. When the moon was high enough, she gently roused the prince for his watch.

  “It’s your turn.” She whispered as not to wake Morell. She helped him to his feet and the two stood in the darkness together. “Now, when the moon is over there,” She pointed to a place across the sky just above a break in the trees. “Wake Morell up for his watch and once he’s on his feet you can go back to sleep.”

  “But what if I see someone on the road?”

  “People on the road aren’t a problem. People coming up the hill are a big problem. But if you see those men from before, be sure to tell us when we wake.”

  “Okay. I’ll do that.” Hoxley then rounded Morell to a patch of soft looking grass and bedded herself down. It wasn’t cold now, but she’d need to buy a nice full blanket to keep her warm when autumn settled in. Content that prince was standing guard, she rested her pugil upon her shoulder and closed her eyes. Hours passed and she slept soundly, dreaming of running across a great plain alone under a cloudless spring sky. Her legs stretched long and fast, hooves pounding the ground and she ran across the hills free and without a care in the world. When the dream ended, she slowly awoke to the sounds of morning birds fluttering above in the trees. Her eyes opened just as the sound of a long horking snort launched its way out of Morell’s nose and throat. Confused as to why Morell should be sleeping when he had the last watch, Hoxley looked up to see the prince on his butt and snoring against a tree. The oaf had fallen asleep and left them unguarded!

  Hoxley quickly jumped to her hooves and stood over him, as angrier than she’d been in a long, long time. She considered yelling in his ear to awake but didn’t want to raise her voice in case other people were in the area. She wanted to clobber him for being careless. In the end, she settled for thumping the top of his skull with the end of her pugil. Not enough to wound, but definitely enough to get his attention.

  *THWACK*

  “Ow!” The prince wailed, coming out of his sleep fast enough to drop the sword between his legs and protect his now aching skull. “What? What’s going on?” he asked, his eyes darting around before shooting upwards to the faun standing over him. “What’s this? Did you just hit me?”

  “You’re lucky that’s all you got!” Hoxley fumed, giving him another thump to the head to drive the point home. “Road thieves or those men after you could have slit our throats in the night because you couldn’t stay awake!”

  “Stop! Stop hitting me!” the prince said.

  “What’s going on?” Morell said, rubbing his sleepy eyes. “Is it time for my watch?”

  “No, I’m afraid you got to sleep in, no thanks to this one!”

  “What?” The red-haired boy looked around. “He fell asleep?”

  “Of all the irresponsible things to do.” Hoxley hissed as she turned away, her tail twitching as she stomped.

  “I’m sorry.” Prince Damron said as he rubbed his head. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “Sorry wouldn’t unslit our throats.” Hoxley grumbled. “But it was my fault for leaving you alone without ensuring you were ready. You’ve never held watch before because you’ve never had to. I shouldn’t have left you alone until I was sure you were ready. She let out a long sigh and tucked her pugil away. “Whatever the case, it’s done now and there’s no sense in arguing. On the positive side, I suppose we’re all rested so we should keep a good pace and arrive in Spellvale before dark.” She extended her hand down to him. “Come on, we still have a way to go.” Prince Damron looked up at her with a suspicious look but when she nodded back with a smile and wiggled her fingers, he took her hand and pulled himself to his feet.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Morning turned into mid-morning. A fair and pleasant day unraveled for travelling as an eastern wind encouraged them along. It was a little more challenging to travel alongside the main road than upon it, but the added concealment kept the few travelers they spotted from seeing them. When the sun was high in the sky, the trio rested in a hidden grove where Morell shared more of his peppery yellow mushrooms. Their taste was more pleasant than the waxy white ones. Hoxley decided it was definitely preferable to nothing at all. Too soon the mushrooms were gone and they lounged listening to the trees. The two boys took off their boots and massaged their toes as the breeze swayed the shade of the limbs above their heads. A babbling brook nearby offered enough fresh water for each to get their fill. Hoxley and Morell filled their canteens.

  “Could you give me another lesson?” the prince asked.

  “Do you remember the first two lessons?”

  “If you can win by words, you’re the better fighter, and if the fight isn’t favorable, you can always retreat until it is.”

  “That’s exactly it. Alright.” She pushed herself up from the soft grass. “Lesson three it is. Let’s pretend I’m your adversary. Take out your sword and point it at me while holding it level to the ground.” He did so and she stepped away, removing her pugil from its strap. She stood and took up the same stance as him but the length of her pugil put her far out of range for an attack. “A sword is fine but having a longer weapon that allows you to attack and stay out of reach. A pike, spear, or a glaive, which is like a sword on the end of a stick is fine as well. Swap me weapons and you’ll see what I mean.” The two changed and repeated the stance. “See? Now you have the advantage. But this advantage only exists if your opponent is not an expert with their weapon.” Hoxley reached out and held the end of the pugil and pulled it close to where the blade was within deadly slicing distance. “See?”

  “So, there’s nothing I can do?”

  “You’ll need to get rid of your enemy’s advantage. Your sword is short so you have to get in close to use it. Take your sword again.” He did. “When I strike at you, you have two options; dodge the strike or parry. Either stops my blow but whichever you choose, your reaction must be quick before I can attack again. You can also use your environment. If I have to use my long weapon, I don’t want to be in an enclosed space because it limits my attacks. A wooded space like this would be ideal for you because these trees are close together and it would be difficult for me to attack.”

  “How do you know all of this?” the prince asked. “You could be a general of your own army.”

  “Again, I once traveled a long road with a wise soldier. I asked him lots of questions and listened to what he has to say. Everyone has something to teach. Take Morell for example,” She pointed to him.

  “Me?” he asked.

  “Him?” asked the prince

  “Yes, him. Morell has a great deal of knowledge in Mycology. Look at us now; because of his knowledge we don’t have empty stomachs. And while I’m sure it’s not a pleasant aspect, the power that leveled his home is not something to be ignored.” The red-haired boys face soured a little but behind the look was the encouragement that her words were true. Hoxley paused to look up at the sky. “The highest sun has passed. We should get going if we’re to make Spellvale by nightfall. Gather your things.”

  Onward they continued. Their luck held and few people were seen passing on the road; a wagon here, a few villagers on horseback there. As always, the number of travelers around Spellvale were few. The same stigma that tainted the prince’s view of witches wasn’t uncommon. Many who’d never encountered or spent time around the magic kind held this view. Hoxley once held it when she was far younger, but the assurances of those like her who delivered letters and parcels many times before eased her anxiousness. And when she’d visited their lands on her own, she found all the tall tales and rumors to be the opposite of what was to be experienced.