Bianca waited a heartbeat for the demon to kick, buck, something.
Horace took a few steps forward and back calmly. Between Tanis’ legs, he seemed positively well behaved.
Was Horace being just a regular horse for Tanis? Absurd. Honestly, kind of rude. What did he have that she didn’t? Besides feet that reached the stirrups.
He leaned over the side a little, holding out a hand to her. “You coming?”
Bianca said nothing, her heart twisting. Now was not the moment to be affronted at Horace’s clear favoritism. She took Tanis’ hand and scrambled up into the saddle with him.
The ride was fitful at best, and she found herself looking over her shoulder every few minutes at every little sound, seeing only the dark woods. Her troupe likely had no idea they were in any danger, if other orc scouts could move as quietly as Tanis had.
Every so often one of them aired a thought, the beginnings of a plan, but none got much further. There simply was nothing a few halfling actors with stage weapons could do against an attack.
Bianca was grateful when the daylight started filtering through the snowy trees, even if it felt like her head had become twice as heavy and she’d gotten no sleep at all. They slowed when they saw the low-burning campfires of her troupe and the circled caravans.
It was so quiet, and so still.
Tanis dismounted first, helping her down.
Bianca started towards the camp, when Tanis caught her arm. Her head whipped around to find him crouched behind a nearby fallen tree, pulling her down with him.
“We’re too late,” he whispered, and she followed his gaze.
They were there already– a handful of orcs, snow-laced and quiet as the dawn, making their way towards her camp, weapons on their hips and backs. They had paused just a little ways from it, still hidden from the caravans, talking quietly amongst themselves, pointing around the camp’s perimeter.
“What do we do, what do we do?” Bianca whispered frantically. Gnawing ankles was about to be back on the table.
She pulled out her little mushroom cutting knife, not sharp enough to fight with, the only weapon she had. Her hands shook as she clutched the blade before her.
Tanis remained silent, but Bianca looked up at the first thought that came to her head. “What if I kidnap you?”
Tanis stared back at her for a heartbeat they didn’t have.
“... I mean. I’m interested. And very flattered,” he started to murmur, looking a little confused, “But we need to focus on the matter at hand.”
Bianca shook her head. She didn’t have time for whatever social ritual kidnapping apparently was. “You’re Dhane’s son, would that be anything? Would that be enough to keep my troupe safe? If I hold a knife to your throat and tell him I’ll kill you if they follow us?”
She watched him try to figure out her question like a riddle, unhelpfully as the seconds ticked by, and the orc party crept closer to her camp. She could have screamed with frustration.
She couldn’t wait another second. It was this or nothing, now or never. Bianca leapt to her feet, throwing her arms around his neck, scrambling to hold on as he stood.
“STOP RIGHT THERE,” she yelled across the frozen forest.
A number of birds scattered from their nests.
“I didn’t agree to that plan–!” Tanis was hissing to her when he froze, standing up fully and facing the other orcs.
They stared at each other for many long seconds, assessing. She took them in, so much larger than anyone in her troupe andall their tusks and non-stage weapons in their grips. But they stared on at her, half bewildered, half startled.
“Go back to your camp. Or I’ll–, I mean, I’ll–” Bianca stammered, a sort of stage fright taking over. Perhaps she preferred working backstage to having this many eyes on her, actually.
One took a step forward.
“DON’T YOU DARE,” she bellowed, clutching a fistful of his cloak with one hand and the other her blunt little knife. She made a show of the knife before she held it just under his jaw.
There was the sound of her troupe’s caravans creaking, doors opening as her friends crept out of their beds to see what all the fuss was about.
She couldn’t look at them. This was so much more complicated than foraging had ever been. Not nearly enough planning had gone into this.
