It took three more days of riding to reach Tira-Lian.
Three days of nothing but endless fields of golden wheat and a distant horizon that almost seemed to be taunting them.
Eirian was quiet, lost in her thoughts when she wasn't buried in the book she'd brought. Everyone else fell quiet in response and the added safety concern as they moved further and further away from the Camelia and any chance of help weighed down on them.
In the grand scheme of the actual amount of space the borderlands took up, they weren't going that far. Tira-Lian had lasted as long as it had because it had been one of the closest outposts to the Camelia and could be reinforced in a day or two depending on how quickly the forces were ready to move.
But there were plenty of stories of entire military units being wiped out in brutally efficient sneak attacks while they travelled through the borderlands.
The strength of the tribes lay in their speed and maneuverability, and their skill in mounted archery was devastating when they managed to surprise and surround anything. It was the same method they used for hunting the large populations of deer and sheep that inhabited the prairie, and it had served them well for hundreds of years.
The tribes would never win a pitched battle, and they hadn't aside from a few expectations that were attributed to failures of leadership on the Camelia's side more than anything else. The tribes were too disorganized, too volatile to form a standing army. Their allegiances shifted with the winds, blood debts and slights of honor shifting the alliances almost day to day. They had no experience in formations, drilling, or fighting as a cohesive unit, so the Camelia always won in a pitched battle.
More than a few tribes had died out completely since the conflict over the borderlands had started. Losing the entirely of their adult male populations left the remaining women, elderly, and children defenseless and they either died out or were forcefully absorbed into neighboring tribes. Wounds and inter-tribe conflicts festered often, and promising leaders were often cut down in their prime.
If the tribes ever managed to set aside all their differences and blood oaths and actually organized themselves even the Crimson Army wouldn't be able to win due to the sheer numbers, the tribes would have if they all came together.
The former First Eye had been skilled at playing the tribes against one another and Yuze had managed to turn them against one another more than once, but it was an unreliable method of dealing with them. Despite experienced agents like Fox and Snake the Camelia had few eyes inside the tribes. Due to the unique beliefs, dress, and tongue of each tribe it was almost impossible to find an agent who could infiltrate more than one or two successfully. Members of the tribe were so close knit and inter-related that they almost always knew every other member,
Even the way they walked and carried themselves was drastically different from the way members of the Camelia did. It had taken Yuze months to figure out how to carry himself so members of a tribe couldn't spot he was a foreigner from a mile away and he still had to practice before he went out on missions.
The one advantage the Camelia had was their painstakingly gathered knowledge of the tribe's routes. Over a thousand years of migrating through different parts of the borderlands and they tended to follow the same patterns over and over. Certain areas could only be planted and harvested for so many years before they needed to be left to fallow.
It made the tribes easy to track on a seasonal scale, while their numbers and nomadic tendencies made it a real challenge on a day-to-day basis.
Their way of life had kept them alive for so long for a reason.
The first glimpse of the outpost came a sunset on the third day. Dark shapes against the horizon that stood out among the wheat. It was almost like a mirage as they made their way closer.
Fox led them to the waterhole for the night, since no one but Eirian was comfortable spending the night in the ruins. Darkness fell before she could get a good look at them, they were still a good half-hour's ride away, but she could kind of make out the wall and the towers.
What was left of them anyway.
The ghost stories started as they were seated around the fire eating a hearty stew Marian had added potatoes and vegetables to with more heavy bread and cheese that Chenzhou had made a face at.
Eirian had stolen his share in retaliation.
"Have you ever heard of the Crane and the Ribbon?" Patrick, Finn's friend, grinned in a way that promised mayhem. Eirian had been accused of having a similar grin.
"Not while we're eating." Marian said immediately.
Eirian raised an eyebrow. What the hell happened in that story?
Patrick frowned. "Then how about the Lady and the Soldier?"
Marian still didn't look pleased, but she went back to eating.
"The Lady and the Soldier?" Lord Zhao asked, looking confused.
"Go on then." Chenzhou sighed.
Patrick beamed, hastily shoving the lsat of his food in his mouth and swallowing so quickly that Eirian was amazed he didn't choke.
The burn on the back of her shoulders had settled into a dull throb, there was definitely a mark there now. She was dying to know what it was, but she was determined to wait until she returned to the Camelia.
"It was before the age of Warfare. Back in the Age of Exploration when the rock was still being discovered, and not all the lands knew about one another." Patrick's hand flew through the air as he talked, nearly knocking Emmy and Finn's plates out of their hands on either side of him. "She was the daughter of wealthy merchant. He was the youngest son of a noble family that joined the army. They met in a village called Tira-Lian."
~ tbc