The Dark Trail

The torchlight wavered as the guide stumbled. “sorry,” he mumbled. ‘Must’ve stepped into a hole”. She knew that he hadn’t stumbled, regardless of the roughness of the trail. She rather attributed it to his liberal use of the wineskin. Ahead of the, inky black darkness spread into the distance, prohibiting one from seeing past the glare of the torch. The narrow dirt trail they followed led down a shallow hill for about a mile, then around the edges of the dense wet-forest, which had been hacked back to allow travelers an easy passage. Tendrils reached out through the dark as if to grab the unwary and drag them away into the murk. She shivered and quickened her step. Closer to the guide, she peered ahead. Nothing could be seen. “how much further?” she asked. “’bout a mile’” You said that half an hour ago,” she accused. “we’ll get there when we get there.” Was his laconic reply. She bit back a retort, and made sure that the handle to her dagger was in easy access. Casting frequent glances behind, they made their way along the forests edge to where the smell of salt and fish was strong in her nostrils. “Almost there”. Sure enough, around the next bend, there was the sea. Bathed in the light of the moon, the sandy beach spread an open 20 yards in front of them. She knew where the boat was. Digging in her leather-bound pouch, she found a silver piece. “Thank you, I know my way from here”. He took the piece, examined it in the torchlight, and smiled. “Thankee, kind lady”. A quick head bob later, he vanished into the darkness.