The next morning the group awoke and set off. They were getting very close to the large river that struck through a mountain range that served as the border between Selva and Viskogorny.
After riding for the morning they heard a sound of racing hooves behind them.
"Protect the Queen!" The General shouted and they drew their guns, Bastian also raising his.
They'd taught him the basics of the fire lances over the past weeks.
Their horses circled around Hydrangea, whose face was controlled.
The galloping sound became louder and they soon made out a figure approaching from around the bend.
"Stay your aim." The General ordered.
Bastian glanced at Hydrangea and saw that she was watching him. He nodded a reassurance to her and refocused on the incoming rider.
"Wait a minute… that's one of our boys!" Sir Vladlen exclaimed and he lowered his gun.
Sir Hristofar lowered his as well, but Bastian and the two others kept theirs raised.
When the rider finally arrived within hearing distance they could hear him shouting, "General Ivan! General Ivan! The capital has been taken!"
Bastian's mouth dropped open, 'Domkorolei has been taken? The Tzar…'
The boy stopped just a few meters from where they stood, Bastian and the General lowered their weapons, Sir Nikanor did not.
"Speak boy." The General, his voice booming but his eyes not hiding the fear.
"But seven days ago the Emissaries stormed Domkorolei and took the city."
Sir Hristofar and Sir Vladlen gasped, the General told the boy to go on. Bastian felt relief, contrasted by fear. If he hadn't taken Hydrangea with him, she could possibly be dead, or worse…
As the boy relayed facts of hostages and deaths, Bastian met Hydrangea's eyes. She held his solemnly. He nodded, glad that they agreed on the matter.
"Gentlemen." He said once the boy had finished and the soldiers had begun planning how they would escape the country and send help to their Tzar and Tsarina. Who were still alive. "Go and help Domkorolei. Hydrangea and I can go from here."
"Sovereign, we couldn't do that. It was our Tzar's orders-"
"And your Tzar is now in danger. I would not like for his life to be lost because I could not get to the border on my own. Now go."
The men glanced at each other uncertainly. "We will go. Give all the food and extra clothing to the Sovereign and his Queen."
Bastian made no objection and Hydrangea thanked them stoically.
When they'd finished, they ran off down the road.
They were both silent as they watched the figures retreat.
He turned and looked to Hydrangea, her eyes were rather distant as she watched them.
"What are you thinking, Hydrangea?" He asked as he urged the horse to go nearer her.
Her eyes became hard, but sad, "That they'll die." She whispered into the gentle, cold wind.
He sighed deeply, it was true. If the Emissaries had gained enough power to overtake Domkorolei, then those four men would be nothing more than gnats to a boot. But maybe, just maybe… they would win.
They didn't sleep that night and instead rode. The entire time Hydrangea's face was cold and removed. He wished she would reveal what her fears were, what her hidden thoughts were.
It didn't feel like they were stuck or back at the beginning, but he just wished that their relationship was further along.
They were lucky to have come across no beasts, but Selva was the beasts' den. The entire jungle territory was a living, breathing mass of monsters.
Coming to the crest of a grassy hill they observed the Prepiatastave River that divided the two countries. Beyond, Bastian could see the mountains rising up from the forests.
They descended the slope and arrived in a small town. Small fields of crops were set up surrounding the few huts. Bastian caught a whiff of piziet, the Selvans popular narcotic.
Sliding off of Gravel he led the horse—Hydrangea following close behind—to the small dock along the river.
He nodded to the village folk that stepped out from their houses to see the travellers. They wore an odd mix of Selvan clothes with Viskogornian fashion.
"Good day to you, sir!" He said in Viskogornian boisterously to the ferryman, with as charming a smile he could contrive.
The stout man nodded, "And to you."
"Could you perhaps grant me and my wife passage over the Prepiatastave?" He loved calling Hydrangea his wife.
"It'll cost ya." The ferryman said, standing from his seat on a crate. He pulled out a roll that Bastian recognized as piziet ready to smoke.
Bastian clicked his tongue. He didn't have currency, did he? He looked back at Hydrangea and saw that she was thinking the same. Damn. Why hadn't they asked the Tzar for currency? Of course, with hindsight appeared a rather petty request. The soldiers were probably to grant them free passage over the stretch of half-frozen river.
He sighed, "Well, I'm afraid that we have no currency. But, if you'd-"
"I'll take the horse." The man said, lighting his piziet with a bit of fire from a brazier. His bearded face was shaded by a broad hat, despite the fact that the sky was dismal. Bastian pressed his lips together; it would most likely rain, or snow.
Bastian blinked. The horse? Hydrangea immediately slid off her horse and… began unpacking things.
Bastian rushed over to her, "Hydrangea, what are you doing?"
She huffed and looked up at him, "I don't mind giving Peony away. We're closer to Gravel, and he's stronger and faster. We need to get to Selva." She stated firmly.
He shook his head and smiled. He wrapped his arms around her and craned his head so he could see her face, "Or maybe you want to be closer to me." He muttered softly into her neck.
She blushed and he could see the gleam in her eyes. She glanced at him with some hesitancy, but he could also see a question. She was asking if he was alright with it.
He gave her a squeeze, "I would love to be closer to you at all hours."
She smiled and he pecked her cheek.
"Hurry up, I haven't got all day." The ferryman called, already halfway through his piziet.
Bastian nodded and called that they were nearly finished.
Having removed all of the necessities from Peony's packs they handed the mare over to the ferryman, but not before Hydrangea gave her a kiss goodbye. Bastian loved her small loving acts. A conceited part of him wished she would show him that kind of love, but he pushed it away.
She was moving at her own pace.
Carrying a pack on his shoulders he led Gravel onto the ferry—Hydrangea mounted on the horse—and the small boat began to push off from Viskogorny.
Into a new and dangerous world.