Rowan Crimsonmane's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

Rowan let the trappers fill his mind, but he could not chase them yet. His hall stood full and warm behind him. Two dozen creatures depended on him. Before he rode out, he had to know they were safe. He turned from the door and walked back inside. He moved through the great green hall room by room. The space stunned him again. It was huge, far bigger than the muddy clearing he had left behind. Separate rooms opened on both sides, each quiet and dry. He passed the medical center he had built near the center, its shelves stocked with jars, clean cloth, and cures. He had room now. He had everything. For the first time, that felt like a burden. A full pantry drew hungry men. Rowan knelt in the medical center and took stock. He needed to leave his creatures able to tend themselves while he was gone. The unicorn foal had healed, but its old wound still ached in the cold. He pulled a soft bundle of herbs from a shelf. Lavender, witch hazel, and chamomile were tied together with twine. He crushed a few blossoms and breathed the calm scent. Then he set the bundle in the foal's room, where the small ones gathered. He worked fast. He filled water troughs. He barred the low fox door from the inside. He showed the drakefly the high window latch it could reach with a nudge. He wanted the hall sealed but not a trap. If the trappers came here, the creatures had to hide, not be caught in a locked cage of his own making. Then he faced the real choice. He could stay and guard the hall. Or he could ride into the woods and stop the trappers before they ever reached his door. Guarding meant waiting while they emptied the forest around him. Riding meant leaving his creatures alone. Rowan looked at the foal resting beside the herb bundle. He looked at the fox kit curled by the hearth. The hall could shelter them. It had walls and rooms and supplies. It did not need him standing in the doorway. The forest did. He made his choice. He would not defend the building. He would defend everything the trappers might catch before they arrived. He pulled his cloak tight and took a spear from the wall. "Stay quiet," he told the small ones. "Stay hidden. I will come back." Rowan stepped outside and drew the great doors shut behind him. The full hall was no longer his problem. It was his fortress, stocked and sealed. His problem now waited in the deep woods, on wagons, behind bars. He turned toward the tree line and began to run.