Quiet, but not silent. While the stars above twinkle down through the pale rolling clouds, I can hear the crickets, a night bird, and leaves rustling in the gentle summer breeze. They seem to say, “Shh, shh. Now is the time for rest”. I promise I will soon; I can hardly resist the lure of such a peaceful song, but first, dear reader, I want to tell you about our journey so far.
Our companions —Mrs. Hume, Alexander, and the baron— are already fast asleep, likely dreaming the same dream we have all been sharing for the past few weeks now, and Lorenz is waiting for me not far off as I share these words with you. Our journey has been a good one thus far. The horses, including sweet Hazel, have taken quite well to the Greenwood forest. More than I can say for Baron Rhodes, who entered the wood with what I think is best described as trepidation. He is usually such a bold and confident man, so I was taken aback when he hesitated and asked Lorenz and I to lead the way. This morning he was jumping at every rustle in every branch and bush, though I did my best to put him at ease, pointing out the bird or rabbit which had caused the sound. Mrs. Hume seemed quietly amused by all this, but even she in all her blunt honesty, did not say a word. We both know how intimidating the forest can be for those who have never experienced it, and I think she believes the wood will win him over in the end.
This day we passed the two stone giants following the river. Alexander was delighted by them both and was utterly in awe of the enormous lilies; he could not stop recalling similar things from the tales he had read and mentioned how perhaps he should write his own tale now that he had seen such wonders. Mrs. Hume whispered to Lorenz and me that she knew the forest would be full of magical sights, but seeing them now took her breath away. We rode on, leaving the second stone giant to stand watch over its pool, and the baron, I saw, remained cautious but quite clearly intrigued.
We decided to rest in a glade around sunset. It was such a warm evening we needed no fire, so instead we laid out our blankets and bundles and ate some of the hardy foods we had packed: dried fruits and cheeses, bread and nuts. Alexander told us a story, and Lorenz sang us a song, the one I find he so often hums to himself —one day I must remember to ask him what the words mean as it is in a language I do not understand. Even the baron offered to share a small bottle of wine he had brought with the rest of the company. He said he should mark the occasion, as the first baron to enter the forest in “who knows how many generations”. Mrs. Hume made a toast, to him, to the bravery of the company, to the forest itself, and to whatever lay ahead.
We shall likely find out tomorrow. Lorenz thinks we will arrive at the last point on our map by midday. I feel that my heart should be fluttering; we’ve waited all this time… but instead I am filled with such a strange sense of calm. So good night, dear reader. Tomorrow we reach our journey’s goal.