The carriage rolled slowly north, the crunch of its wheels over the gravel road gradually growing monotonous and lulling. Yavi watched the scenery sliding past outside with some boredom-tiny snowflakes drifted in the wind, a few solitary birches occasionally flashed past in the distance, and the sky farther north was a cold gray-blue.
Claire's head bobbed until it finally slumped onto Mel's shoulder. At first, Mel struggled to stay awake, but the warm blankets inside the carriage and its gentle rocking made the drowsiness hard to resist. Her eyelids struggled open several times, then slowly drooped again. At last, she gave up resisting and leaned against Claire, her breathing gradually growing steady and deep.
Despite the peace inside the carriage, his Witcher Senses remained active, constantly alert to every movement around them, wary of unknown dangers that might appear at any moment. He had always had a feeling that this journey would not go too smoothly. Turning to glance at the sleeping Mel, he had to keep her safe, at least...
The last glow of sunset was gradually swallowed by the horizon, and the sky took on a dull purplish gray. Caravan leader Hawk's rough voice rang out from the front: "Everyone, halt! We'll camp here tonight!"
The caravan members immediately sprang into action, deftly unloading goods and pitching tents. The horses were led aside to be fed, wooden blocks secured the wheels, and several burly men dragged over dry firewood. Soon, a roaring campfire blazed in the center of camp. Its dancing light drove back the gathering dusk, illuminating faces that were tired but relaxed.
The cook was a stubble-faced middle-aged man. He briskly set up an iron frame and placed a huge iron pot over the flames. The water soon boiled, and he tipped in chunks of cut meat, root vegetables, and a handful of spices. A rich aroma rose with the steam and soon spread throughout the camp, setting quite a few stomachs rumbling.
Yavi gently nudged Mel's shoulder and said quietly, "Wake up. Time to eat."
Mel frowned and opened her eyes groggily, seemingly not quite awake yet. Claire rubbed her eyes and yawned.
Yavi stood and stretched his somewhat stiff body, though his gaze kept sweeping their surroundings warily. The bustle of camp could not conceal the silence of the wilderness, and danger often lurked beneath that silence.
"Come on. If we don't get in line, all the good food will be gone." He deliberately kept his tone light, but his Witcher Senses continued probing their surroundings.
They walked toward the crowd beside the campfire, where the line was already long. Caravan guards, drivers, and students held wooden bowls, talking quietly as they waited for their food, with rough laughter breaking out from time to time. The night wind swept through the treetops with a soft rustling, while farther away in the darkness, something seemed to be silently watching this patch of firelight.
The three returned to the carriage with steaming wooden bowls and sat in a circle to eat in the dim yellow glow of the oil lamp hanging beside the covered wagon. Yavi took several pieces of smoked jerky and some bread from his pack and shared them with the two women. "A little extra," he said briefly. "The caravan's stew tastes decent, but it leaves something to be desired when it comes to filling you up."
Claire eagerly bit into her broth-soaked bread, her eyes narrowing blissfully. "Delicious! After traveling all day, anything would taste good!"
Mel took small sips of her stew, her gaze passing over the little groups scattered around camp. "I saw a few people I know," she answered Yavi's earlier question. "Anna from the logistics department, and a few lower-year members of our faction. I said a quick hello to them all." She paused. "As for those annoying people... I haven't seen them yet."
Yavi nodded, tore off a piece of jerky, and chewed slowly. His gaze passed beyond Claire's cheerful eating and settled on the shadows at the edge of camp. Several caravan guards patrolled with weapons at their sides. Farther away, the bushes swayed gently in the night wind, making faint rustling sounds.
"Get some rest early once you're done eating," he said suddenly. "We've still got traveling to do tomorrow."
Claire mumbled a reply through a mouthful of food. Mel, however, keenly picked up on the implication in Yavi's words. She followed his gaze into the darkness, but saw only darkness.
After finishing their meal, the three took their wooden bowls to the water barrels at the edge of camp and washed them clean. The cold water bit to the bone. Claire grimaced as she shook the droplets off her hands, while Mel quietly dried the rim of her bowl with a cloth. The night wind grew colder, and the noise in camp gradually subsided, leaving only a few guards on night watch talking quietly beside the fire.
Back at the carriage, Yavi carefully checked the ropes securing the covered wagon, then lowered the canvas tightly on all sides, leaving only the oil lamp hanging overhead to cast its faint yellow glow. The carriage immediately became a small, enclosed, private space, shutting out the cold and darkness outside.
Claire yawned, wrapped her blanket tightly around herself, and curled up in a corner. "We'll reach Gray Rock Town tomorrow, right? I hear their mead is really famous..." Her voice grew softer and softer, her eyelids already drooping.
Mel leaned against the other side, thoughtfully running her fingers over a notebook she carried with her. "I hope the rest of the journey goes smoothly," she said quietly, her gaze flicking toward Yavi.
Yavi leaned beside the carriage door, a half-drawn silver sword within reach. "Sleep easy," he said briefly. "I'm here."
Mel hesitated, then merely nodded and blew out the oil lamp. Darkness instantly enveloped the carriage, leaving only their steady breathing and the occasional distant cry of an owl.
As the night deepened, the camp fell completely silent. The fire dwindled to dark red embers, the guards on night watch dozed with their weapons in their arms, and even the horses stood with lowered heads, resting. Yavi's Witcher Senses remained alert, but the whole night passed without any unusual activity beyond the wind and the rustling leaves.
In the faint light of dawn, the camp gradually awoke. Only then did Yavi relax his taut nerves a little. It seemed the night really had passed peacefully-on the surface, at least.
The caravan members emerged from their tents yawning and briskly packed their belongings. The clatter of iron pots, the impatient neighing of horses, and caravan leader Hawk's rough shouts mingled, breaking the silence of the wilderness.
The caravan was highly efficient. In less than two hours, the tents had been packed away, the goods reloaded, and the horses harnessed. Astride his chestnut horse, Hawk waved his whip and shouted, "Attention, everyone! Prepare to move out!"
With its wheels rolling over grass still wet with morning dew, the caravan set off again. The road north grew steadily rougher, the trees on either side becoming sparser, giving way to exposed gray rocks. Yavi held out a hand. A snowflake settled lightly in his palm and turned into a cold drop of water in an instant. As he gazed at this familiar snow of the Northern Kingdoms, the corners of his mouth unconsciously lifted in an almost imperceptible smile.