Chapter 91
The rainfall shows no signs of letting up. Nevertheless, Maeve continued to walk forward without pausing. Then, she stopped for a moment.
When she pulled the map from her bosom, Prince Declan leaned in closer to ensure the paper did not get wet. Her long curly hair, damp with moisture, brushed against the crook of his neck and jaw, feeling a bit prickly yet ticklish.
Using the Prince as a human umbrella, Maeve finished checking the map without giving him a single glance. Midway, she jerked her head up to scan the surroundings. She tried to recall the direction of the constellations she had last seen the previous night while simultaneously attempting to sense the direction of the wind.
Notably, the compass essential for this journey had been lost when Craig was driven away. Who could have known he was hiding such a precious object so tightly in his pocket? After that, they had relied on Fionechta to gauge their direction, and now that even he was gone, it was Maeve’s responsibility.
In the absence of a tool like a compass, the easiest way to determine direction is to rely on the constellations and the wind. However, as the autumn rainy season arrived earlier than usual, even that had become difficult.
Maeve surveyed the area. It was a forest, but a somewhat bizarre one. This was because the ancient trees that formed the heart of the forest had all been cut down.
Furthermore, the ground was gouged out in places as if even the roots had been torn away. Whoever did this was truly a madman—unless they had planned to slaughter the forest entirely.
Suddenly, the monster of Eloa, the doe that acted as if it owned the place, came to mind. This was better than that situation, but this was too extreme.
For want of anything better, she turned her head to find a remaining tree stump. Soon, a stump with its growth rings exposed greeted her. The side where the rings are narrower is North, and the wider side is South. It is a method many travelers distrust due to numerous variables, but for now, they had no choice but to rely on such things.
“It should be this way.”
“Yes.”
“Probably.”
“Have confidence, Maeve.”
Maeve was now accustomed to the Prince acting positively as naturally as he breathed. At one time, she had found this trait particularly displeasing, but since she had been saved by that groundless brightness before, she remained silent.
The two soon moved toward a bridge leading to the region called Eckel. Fortunately, the direction Maeve inferred was correct. And then, they discovered a suspension bridge dangling helplessly, severed between the two cliffs.
“It’s broken,” Prince Declan said into her ear without malice. Maeve rubbed her right ear—the one in question—and nodded.
Naturally, below was a precipice. Falling meant instant death.
Maeve examined what remained of the bridge’s wreckage. It was a bridge made using rope and old wooden planks. Since one couldn’t have expected durability from it in the first place, it wasn’t very surprising.
“We won’t be able to take the shortcut.”
“It can’t be helped, then.”
After staying overnight in the old warehouse, the weather cleared up mockingly the next morning.
Since they already knew they could no longer go in the direction they originally intended, they had to visit a place they had intended to avoid as a second-best option.
That is to say, it was the place Harold had warned them about in advance. The place he told them to avoid as much as possible by taking a detour.
“So, what was it that Harold said?”
“That there is a village where people are desperate to strip outsiders of everything they have. He also said to be careful because the people are exceptionally rough.”
“Ah, that much is fine.”
Before long, the two, leading the horse and the donkey, reached a spot not far from the village entrance.
From this distance, the village appeared quite ordinary at a glance. Wooden houses that looked as if they had been built not long ago were lined up here and there, and people who seemed ordinary to anyone could be seen coming and going on the road.
Maeve looked back at the Prince when he responded with that groundless positivity again. Prince Declan looked at her as if his feelings were slightly hurt, and then said with a most serious face:
“Maeve. Look at us.”
“Pardon?”
“We look like beggars to anyone.”
As if to emphasize his point, he pointed his finger at her from head to toe, and then pointed at himself from head to toe again.
Certainly, they were in a somewhat shabby state. They had walked through the pouring rain the day before, and it had been a long time since they had found a body of water suitable for bathing.
“Look. We look like we have nothing. We are beggars to anyone.”
“Beggars traveling with a horse and a donkey.”
“How about we rub some mud on these guys too?”
“Let’s just tie them up here and go.”
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