On the afternoon of the tenth day, the snowline gradually receded, revealing patches of bare, dark brown earth among the mountain woods.
The long convoy finally stopped, its wheels thudding as they sank into the edges of the snow.
The heavy carriages pulled over beside the road at the foot of the mountain, one after another, more than fifty in all.
The massive escort force spread out to patrol the surrounding area.
The accompanying family members also climbed down to help with the work. This was their rare daily chance to leave the carriages.
Mary carefully stepped down from her carriage, carrying a small pot.
Snowmelt soaked the hem of her skirt, but she had no time to wipe it dry. Holding her three-year-old daughter, Innie, in one arm, she used her free hand to help the other women set up their cooking utensils on the snow.
"Have you heard? The Red Tide Fief is pretty cold too."
"I heard all the land over there was conquered in battle, and the houses were burned down..."
"But we haven't gone short of food this whole trip. There was even meat in yesterday's porridge."
"It's just... we keep heading south like this, with no end in sight."
Mary lowered her head and tore pieces from a dry flatbread to feed her child. Her hands paused briefly, but she said nothing.
She did not know where this road would ultimately lead, either.
All she knew was that a single word from Duke Edmund had sent the entire Broken Blade Knights and their families off with Louis.
In truth, she harbored a few small complaints, but she dared not voice them. To them, Duke Edmund was practically a god.
Still, honestly speaking, this migration was far more dignified than the exile she had originally