Don't Underestimate Our Sneakiness {Henry}

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So the whole car thing had been a little awkward. As in Astrid was pretty sure they'd almost died. A few times. But she felt like it had been a success overall, as they were now within a short walk of the enemy camp. Well, short for two athletic people who were determined to act as scouts. Astrid really didn't want the vehicle (she thought it was called a "jeep" but that just sounded silly) to be spotted under any conditions. So she'd pulled it to the side, running over a tree in the process. It was a smallish tree, and the "jeep" had looked fine. They'd dusted themselves off, and were now trumping toward the camp.

"Remember, we're scouts," she said unnecessarily, glancing over her shoulder. She'd really only managed to get Henry to come along, though she'd received some orders and such from various other peoples. Something told her that if she reported directly to one of the several gods that had taken a direct interest in her, people would listen. Plus, Henry was supposed to be a prince. Or something like it.

The Viking let out a deep breath, reaching up to adjust her pack. It was light, as she didn't expect this to take long. What was less light was the shirt of chainmail that she'd draped over her regular shirt, not to mention the studded leather skirt, the thick boots, and the portable armory she carried. You could see a large axe slung over her back, a handful of smaller ones on her side, what appeared to be a short sword on the side opposite the axes, and a knife tucked into a boot. Astrid would have brought the mace if she thought she could manage.

They reached the crest of a hill, and Astrid stopped. The wind caught a few loose strands of blonde hair, and she reached up, pulling them aside and squinting in the distance. The camp was there, and they were going to... spy on them. For information.

No, this didn't feel insane in the slightest.

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To say Henry was rattled would be putting it lightly. He kept casting sidelong glances at Astrid, wondering if she had been trying to kill them. She'd insisted she could drive the car down, that they didn't need anyone else, but that had been a straightforward lie. Well, he knew better for next time. And somehow they were still alive, so there was that at least.

He was following Astrid, who despite carrying enough metal to create bullets to last an army of 1,000 for a month was pulling ahead. On the other hand, Henry was wearing a fancy vest he'd managed to get from home--enchanted to withstand arrowshots from up to 500 feet--and carrying only his knives and lockpicks, the only weapons he felt comfortable with. It wasn't so much that he was tired, just a little less anxious to see what was really on the other side of this ridge. If it was an army, what were they really supposed to do?

"Yes, thank you Astrid," he hissed back. "Now if we could shut up so we don't give anything away?" He rolled his eyes. Vikings and their spy skills. A joke if he'd ever heard one.

She'd been so insistent about finding a real prince, but Henry had eventually convinced her that he himself would do just fine. No point involving anyone else in this. It was bad enough that they'd be sharing glory with one another. He was busy contemplating the sort of attention he would receive for his part in revealing such valuable information when Astrid stopped and he almost ran into her.

"Are we there?" he whispered, dropping to the ground and trying to pull her with him. "Don't be seen!"

He glanced around, looking for scouts. It was insane to think they'd ever get in...ever get even close...maybe that was the point of the bad driving. A sign from God that they should turn back.

"Astrid," he said quietly, "remind me again how we're supposed to get close enough to get any information. Are we planning on evading scouts, killing them, posing as them, getting captured by them in order to get close to a military base and then attempting to escape..." He was good with plans but not decisions. Let the headstrong one deal with that.

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"Do you ever do anything besides complain?" hissed Astrid through clenched teeth, shooting Henry a withering glance. He'd volunteered for this, more or less. Astrid had gone along with his insistence that he would be prince enough, especially as it seemed like Arthur had enough things to worry about without Astrid pestering him about this too. Besides, you didn't want scouting parties to be big; everyone knew that.

She'd paused, and then nearly sighed as Henry started pulling her down. He was way too jumpy. Some caution was a good thing, but if you started at every noise, you were just as likely to get yourself killed.

"We're nearly there," she said back, waving, "that was the point of getting out of the jeep, remember?"

She sighed, getting down anyway. Not because Henry had pulled her, mind, but because getting down was the smart thing for her to be doing about now. Astrid settled into a crouch and peered into the distance, her eyes narrowing. Somehow, she hadn't thought of grabbing binoculars till right about now. She was going to blame that on not having the things back home, if anyone bothered to ask.

"We're going to evade most of them," she said, her voice confident. "If anyone asks, it's obvious that we're just a couple of clueless teenagers who got too close," she looked to him, her eyes hard. "I'd rather not kill anyone unless I had to, so try not to do anything too stupid."

And she was off, taking off at a near run despite being bent over double, her knees practically touching her chest with each movement.

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"Sure. Eat, sleep. Take a dump. All sorts of things." He was being slightly bitter. But really, what did she expect? Sometimes he felt like the only person here who ever thought things through. At least the only one in this group. And if that made him a bit of a whiner? So be it.

"I thought the point of getting out of the jeep was to make sure that we would still be alive when we reached the camp," he grumbled. "Nearly there means we need to start being cautious instead of just walking around begging for attention."

Squinting into the distance, Henry put his hand over his eyes and reached into a back pocket to pull out a piece of glass that he often kept with him. He'd won it off a guy in the old world and it had come in useful, both as a looking glass and a reminder to not cheat guys taller than you unless you're sure you can take them. Holding it to his eye, he looked over the hills. "Want to take a look?" he asked, holding it in two fingers as he handed it to Astrid, still looking off into the distance. "Not exactly a pretty sight."

He gaped open-mouthed as Astrid outlined her plan, then started to run after her, awkwardly as he tried to stay low but only managing to bob up and down in a strange dance. "No, no, that's not okay, it's never going to work! Who in their right mind would believe that you are just a clueless teenager wandering around when you are dressed in chainmail and carrying a battle-ax the size of a dragon's head?!" All this was in a loud whisper, but it was still too loud. He clapped a hand over his own mouth and froze, terrified that someone would have heard him.

There was a rustling in some of the bushes nearby, and Henry let his eyes slowly slide over to that area. He was sure it was a soldier, sure someone was about to shoot him, sure everything was about to go terribly wrong. And he hadn't even had time to plan out who would get his collection of magazines yet, not to mention saying goodbye to Lottie...

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Astrid mostly ignored Henry and everything he had to say. She did take the glass as it was offered, taking a peek for a few moments before she started moving. The Viking was surprisingly quiet, her armor and weapons barely making any noise while she moved. This was something she'd trained for, something she knew she could do. Each footfall was carefully planned, quiet, silent and catlike. She felt the thrill rising inside her, nearly causing goosepimples to rise on her flesh.

Then Henry talked. Again. Astrid sighed in frustration, turning to give him a hard look. "They know that there's plenty of students around here that are trained warriors and stuff. Plus it's obvious that we'd be hunting or something," she didn't want to clarify, nor think too deeply about what "something" could be, "and that's assuming we get caught, which we won't, because we're going to be quiet and sneaky."

Astrid looked as though she wouldn't mind punching Henry. Technically she always did, but now she looked even more like she wouldn't mind hitting him. As she turned, she added a coda to her little speech: "This isn't the size of a dragon's head; trust me, I've seen those. It would be a small dragon that's only as big as my axe."

She took a few more steps before hearing the same noise that caught Henry's attention. Astrid's entire body stiffened, going bowstring tight. A hand drifted toward her axe, and she thought about her nearly flippant words earlier. She didn't want to kill anyone, and she really wasn't sure she could, despite all her bravado. Vikings of Berk were too busy killing dragons to think much about killing other humans.

"It's probably just Arrow," she whispered, her eyes flicking to Henry, "so relax. even if it's not, we can probably take him."

Probably.

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Henry rolled his eyes. What in the world would they be hunting that would require as much gear as she was carrying? Especially in this area. It wasn't as though there were boars or wolves or bears or lions this close to the school. He caught the point, though, about being quiet and sneaky. As annoyed as he was with her inability to blend in, she was annoyed with him. Good. At least it was mutual.

He sighed as the hyperbole about the ax went right past Astrid. "It was a metaphor," he said in a low growl. He wasn't bothered by her glare anymore, heightened as it was. Much as Astrid always threatened to punch him, it rarely happened. Anymore. Mostly. And he could take a few punches, even from a mail-clad hand.

Frozen after hearing the sound, Henry waited to see what would emerge from the bushes. Meanwhile he tried to train his expression to look as innocent as possible. His right hand slid slowly into his pocket, which was sliced through at the bottom to allow access to the throwing knife strapped to his leg. He desperately hoped not to need it.

From behind one of the trees stepped a spotted deer, munching on a small twig of leaves. It stared at Henry, who looked like the one caught in the headlights. He felt a flush of embarrassment on the back of his neck and chose to ignore Astrid, who he suspected would be trying to hide a laugh. Instead he stepped toward the deer, holding out a hand. He felt a little ridiculous, trying to treat it like a dog, but the deer just stood there, finishing its swallow of leaves and then reaching out to place its nose on the back of Henry's hand.

"Is it just me," Henry said quietly to Astrid, "or are the animals here way more tame than they should be?" He almost expected a grizzly to amble down and wish for a pot of honey.

"What's our next step?" he said, still standing completely still as the deer licked and subsequently tried to eat his hand. He yanked his hand away and turned around to face Astrid. The deer started eating the back of his shirt. "And what sort of approach do you want to--cut it out!" He spun around, pulling his shirt away from the deer, who stared up at him with woeful eyes until he relented and offered it one of his handkerchiefs to nibble on. "Any brilliant plans?"

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"Whatever a metaphor is," muttered Astrid. She vaguely recalled hearing something about it during class, something in literature or poetry or something. Whatever it was, it wasn't something that the Viking was altogether concerned with. She was much, much more concerned with their mission: more accurately, with creeping forward and succeeding in what they'd showed up here to do.

She really had expected her stalker squirrel to come out of the foiliage. That it happened to be a different animal only made the girl fight back a giggle. "Really? I hadn't noticed," she drawled, not at all thinking of her squirrel companion yet again. She turned her gaze away from Henry and the deer: a difficult task, to be sure, and looked out into the distance.

"I told you: it's simple. We sneak up near the base, figure out their numbers, maybe take one or two of them out, and then get out of there. Stop making it more difficult than it needs to be," said Astrid. She looked over at Henry for a few seconds, half-smiling, confidence beaming from every inch of her. Then, she bent low and began moving with a surprisingly high amount of stealth for someone who was covered head to toe in weapons and gear.

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Henry could feel Astrid trying not to laugh next to him. He appreciated her efforts, but it was still incredibly annoying. Not to mention the fact that the deer was eating his favorite handkerchief. This was not turning out quite the way he'd imagined it.

"I don't think it's going to be--" he started to say, but Astrid was already bounding off. He wondered how much of that confidence was real and how much was just bravado. Nah, she was probably Viking enough to believe it all. They seemed to have a lot of faith, mostly blind faith. Maybe they could get together with some of his more religious aunts and have a convention.

"Are you sure this is even the right way?" he asked her, not at all sure of her sense of direction. In his experience girls didn't have the internal compass that guys did. He pulled the map out of his back pocket, just a simple one detailing the forest and a few service roads, but at least it gave him an idea. He looked at the mountains in the distance to his right and turned in that direction. "I think we need to go this way," he said. "The better, er, hunting grounds are this way." He shoved the map back in his pocket and continued on.

When he reached the next ridge, he knelt down to peer over the edge into the valley between the hills. The deer had managed to follow him all this way, and it appeared to have bonded with him or some such ridiculous thing, because it now came up and attempted to eat his hair. He batted it away absently and pulled out his spy glass.

"Is that...smoke?" he whispered, looking off into the distance and passing the glass over. "We might be close."

That was when there was a loud sound off to the duo's right. Henry whirled to face it, knife already in hand. He wasn't sure whether to hope for another animal companion or not.

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Was Astrid sure? Of course not. Was she going to admit it? Of course not, especially to Henry. She blatantly ignored him, continuing on as though she'd discovered the right direction. It wasn't as though she were wandering off into the woods at random: she'd put some thought into this and was using her tracking abilities. At the same time, her eagerness, her enthusiasm, was driving her a lot more than her head or her skill. Which was why she actually stopped when Henry said he noticed something, turning to look over at him, her face curling in a strange mixture of irritation and appreciation.

"Are they on the map? Because I missed that," she said, nodding toward the map. She guessed that Henry was looking for places that would make sensible encampments, because he folded it up and took off in another direction. Astrid sighed, but followed him. While she'd mostly brought Henry along to add weight to her claims, it was stupid not to follow his suggestions and utilize his skill too, even if that skill seemed to mostly amount to having a deer follow you and reading a map.

"It's smoke," said Astrid, her eyes narrowing. If it was one thing the Viking had experience seeing at any distance, it was smoke. She took a few steps closer, determined to get within range, when she too heard the noise. She whirled upon it, her hand falling to her belt, an axe leaping up into her hand before she could even think twice about it.

This time, it was not a woodland creature that stumbled from the grove, but instead what appeared to be a soldier of some kind. A young soldier, likely on guard duty or a patrol. He also seemed just as surprised to see them as Astrid was to see him...

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The young solider stumbled across the two trespassers and immediately drew his weapon, looking at the two of them. He looked scared, not at all like the fearsome army that had been depicted in the newspaper. His eyes shifted nervously between the girl with many weapons and the boy beside her. Moving the sword between the two he said, “Who are you?! What are you doing here?!”

Holding the sword in two hands now he decided that the girl was clearly the more dangerous and moved it towards her, “put down your weapons. NOW!”

Glancing quickly over his shoulder he continued, “Do it! Or I’ll call for them, the camp is but a few meters away and they will all come running. Put down your weapons and identify yourselves!”

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"No, they're not on the map, but we know they're more this way. And over here is where the forest thins out some. That's where you could put an army." It was logic. Where would you put an entire army in the middle of these trees?

When the soldier found them, all Henry saw was the flashing sword in his hand. And it was sharp, not like those training swords he'd used. Suddenly Henry wished for a sword himself, even if he couldn't use it. He froze in the sight of that weapon, taking an extra minute to process what the soldier was saying. He couldn't even come up with an excuse as to why they were there.

When the soldier said to drop their weapons, Henry made like he was putting his knife on the ground but instead palmed it, hoping the man wouldn't notice. That was when he saw the sword tip shaking and looked behind the helmet to see the frightened eyes underneath. It gave Henry just enough hope to pull himself back together, and as he stood he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I already put down my knife," he said, regaining some of his former bravado. "But why are you going to hurt us? It's not like we've done anything." Walking around with weapons was definitely not a crime. "Besides, I don't think your camp is really that close. We saw smoke off over there." He jerked his head in a different direction. "I think you're just bluffing."

He turned to Astrid, losing sight of the soldier for a moment. "You hear that? I think he's bluffing. I think he's alone out here, and totally unable to help himself." And saying that he began walking toward the young soldier, arms stiff at his sides to hide the knife in his palm.

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"It took me half an hour to put all these on," growled Astrid, eying the incoming soldier like she wanted to eat him. Henry had already put away his knife, and he was attempting something akin to diplomacy, which was probably for the best. That was what princes were good for, in general. Strange though; Astrid thought that Henry had insisted that he wasn't good at anything that princes were supposed to be good at.

"I think I could kill him in about three good axe strokes," said Astrid, her voice taking on that cocky edge. Her fingers were hovering near her weapons. She'd never actually taken a human life before, nor was she relishing the opportunity. You'd never know that from the smile though. "He doesn't look nearly as tough as a dragon."

She paused for a few moments, the smile actually growing on her face. Astrid could almost feel the bubbling heat of anger boiling just within her, waiting to be called to the surface at the slightest inclination.

"How do you know we're not here to join your little army?" she asked, taking advantage of what she hoped was his fear. "Don't we look like capable people to you?"

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The young mans eyes flitted between the two in front of him, listening to their words, growing more and more nervous with each passing second. He lowered his weapon a little, frightened that the two incomers may attack him. “You…you are from the portal town?” he asked still with a tight grip on the weapon but no longer pointing at the two, “you wish…to join us…?”

“Don’t be so stupid boy,” said a booming voice from behind the tree.

A large man emerged and as he did so did five others from their own respective darkness of the forest. All the men were large, with dark armour and capes. They wore no helmets, allowing their dark matted hair to hang free. The man that had spoken also sported a large black beard with a menacing grin within it as he approached the young solider and the two in front of him. If the boy had been nervous before, now all the colour drained from his face.

The men all drew their weapons, pointing it at the two before them. “Spies most likely, lookin’ to do a bit of scouting. Do you know what we do with spies in Wayron?”

The men chuckled and snickered as the large man left a heavy hand drop on the boys shoulder. The boy almost buckled underneath the weight. He pointed to Astrid and said, “Especially pretty little blonde ones like you girly. Take a guess.”

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Henry continued approaching. It looked like the soldier was wavering. "She probably could, you know," he said, nodding with his head toward Astrid. "She's pretty good with that axe." The guy looked like a kid, really, from up close. And he sounded like one, too.

He was about to ask how the guy guessed they were from Trenale--though really it was a fair guess, since that was the nearest town and why else would they be here--and was wondering if he should play along with trying to join up when the others all joined. So much for not being near reinforcements.

He froze in his tracks, his eyes drifting between all the soldiers. Who was this leader and why was the other soldier so scared of him? It was enough to keep him silent for a time, and he prayed Astrid would do the same and not draw attention to herself.

"We're not spies," he said slowly, hoping that it would be enough to distract the conversation for a time. But when the conversation turned threatening, Henry stiffened. He couldn't let Astrid get hurt, and he couldn't justify to himself why that wasn't an option. Something about chivalry, being a leader, being a prince...but it wasn't a reason that flitted through his mind. Just a definite knowledge that nothing was going to happen to his friend and an action to take.

"Astrid, run," he said through gritted teeth, staring at the soldiers. Then he screamed "Run!" and threw the knife concealed in his palm at the nearest burly soldier. He leaped forward and pulled out another knife, trying to make as big a distraction as possible and silently praying that Astrid would not fight, as he knew was in her nature. "Go get help," he shouted toward her, looking briefly in her direction with pleading eyes, hoping to somehow signal that he knew this wouldn't end well for either of them, especially if she joined in the fight.

He attempted to get to the young soldier, hoping to disarm him. That one still looked the most vulnerable, and if Henry could manage to get his hands on the sword it would be enough to have a longer range weapon that he could probably hold out for another couple minutes. He dodged past one of the larger men, hoping he would actually be able to reach the young soldier and buy the extra time before he was killed or captured.

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It looked like they had the poor kid right where they wanted him. Henry was even getting into it, starting to look a good deal more imposing than Astrid had originally thought him capable of. She grunted in appreciation, sliding her axe fully out of its holster.

Which put her in a brilliant position for when the other men worked their way into their midst. Astrid raised her weapon, her mouth twisting into a feral smile. Six. Six wasn't good. Four they could have handled without a problem: Astrid knew she could take two easily, especially if they underestimated her, which they would likely do the first time. Six though, six was two too many. They couldn't take on three apiece; they were warriors, warriors in training, not gods.

But oh, was Astrid tempted. Even moreso when the big one looked at her like she was a piece of meat. She bristled, muscles tightening, her weapons rattling against each other like so many quills on a porcupine.

Then Henry pushed her and screamed. Astrid actually stumbled back, staring in disbelief. She had almost a foot in height on Henry. She'd seen him dolled up and taking out her roommate (and maybe friend) out for a carriage ride. Hell, she'd intimidated him. So what was he doing?

"You picked now to be a hero? Are you insane?" growled Astrid. She slid her hands up her weapon, eying them. She wanted to attack, could feel that urge. Yet.... yet Henry had a point. She was the captain of the track team: she had the stride, she knew the land. She could escape; circle back, get Henry later. It was the smart thing to do.

Astrid even took a step back. It felt cowardly. But... the woods. She had the blessing of Artemis, training from the goddess. Loki was a trickster, and she'd earned his attention. She fought with wolves, with dragons. She could totally lose them in the woods.

So Astrid bolted, making for the woods as though her feet were on fire.