The second day of travel brought them deeper into the eastern forest. The trees here were different older, thicker, their branches twisted in ways that suggested something unnatural had shaped their growth over time.
Marcus pulled his horse to a stop, his hand raised in a silent signal.
Liz reined in beside him, her expression questioning.
"What is it?" Her voice barely above a whisper.
Marcus closed his eyes, extending his Soul Reading outward. The ability had been growing stronger lately. He’d noticed it first during the goblin nest fight the way he could predict attacks before they came. But it was more than that now. The skill was evolving beyond simple combat application.
Recently, he’d discovered he could detect emotional residue from people traces of their presence that lingered in the air like invisible fingerprints. He could use it to sense people without seeing them, reading their locations through the emotions they left behind.
"Something ahead." Marcus’s eyes opened, pupils sharp with concentration. "Multiple signatures. Human. Moving in formation."
"Bandits again?" Liz’s hand moved closer to her weapon.
"No." Marcus shook his head slowly. "Disciplined. Military. And..." He paused, pushing the Soul Reading further. "Prisoners. Four of them. Bound. Afraid."
Through the trees, maybe two hundred feet ahead, he could sense them clearly now. Ten total signatures. Six radiating the cold, controlled aggression of trained soldiers. Four radiating pure terror mixed with exhaustion and pain.
"Let’s take a look." Marcus dismounted, tying his horse to a low branch. "Quietly."
They moved through the forest on foot, keeping low, using the thick tree trunks for cover. The sound of wheels on dirt reached them first. Then voices, speaking in clipped military tones.
Marcus crouched behind a massive oak, Liz beside him, and peered through the undergrowth.
"A convoy".
Six soldiers in dark armor escorted a covered cart pulled by two horses. The armor wasn’t standard military issue it had that particular wrongness Marcus had started associating with corruption. Tainted. Enhanced by dark magic that made his skin crawl just looking at it.
"Ashfang soldiers." Liz’s voice was tight with recognition and hatred.
Marcus glanced at her. "You know them?"
"Everyone in the border regions knows them." Liz’s jaw clenched. "They’re Duskhollow’s personal military force. The ones who..." She stopped, the memory of Ashveil clearly surfacing. "The ones who destroy villages."
Marcus studied the soldiers more carefully. They moved in tight formation two leading the cart, two flanking, two bringing up the rear. Professional. Experienced. These weren’t conscripts or thugs playing soldier.
His Soul Reading picked up their emotional signatures more clearly now. Cold determination. No hesitation. No doubt. Men who’d done terrible things so many times they’d stopped feeling anything about it.
"The cart." Marcus nodded toward the covered wagon. "Four signatures inside. Bound and gagged based on the fear residue."
He pushed his Soul Reading deeper, focusing on the prisoners. The emotional imprints were stronger here fresher. Terror from being captured. Pain from rough handling. But underneath that, something else.
One signature felt different. Calmer despite the fear. Analytical. The kind of person who stayed focused even in crisis.
Another signature was familiar somehow. Not someone Marcus knew personally, but...
"Wait." Marcus’s eyes narrowed. "I think one of them is a woman. And the others..." He concentrated harder, reading the emotional patterns. "Three men. They feel... coordinated. Like they know each other well."
Liz looked at him sharply. "Is Corvin there?"
"I don’t know." Marcus frowned, pushing his Soul Reading harder but hitting its limits. "I can’t entirely tell a person’s identity. Just their emotional signatures. Four people total one woman, three men. That’s all I can read."
"So we intercept." Liz’s hand moved to her weapon, ready.
"Not yet." Marcus grabbed her arm gently. "Six trained soldiers. We need to be smart about this."
They watched the convoy continue down the road, counting the rhythm of the guards’ patrol pattern.
The two rear guards swept their eyes across the forest every thirty seconds. The flanking guards stayed focused on the road ahead. The lead guards talked quietly to each other, slightly less alert.
Marcus’s Soul Reading tracked their emotional states. The rear guards were tense, expecting trouble. The flanking guards were bored but disciplined. The lead guards were confident, almost arrogant.
"They’re expecting resistance from behind," Marcus said quietly. "Not from the front or sides."
"How can you tell?" Liz asked.
"The rear guards. Their fear signature is pointed backward, toward where they came from. Whatever they’re worried about, it’s following them, not waiting ahead."
Liz processed this. "So we hit them from the front?"
"Or the sides." Marcus studied the terrain. The road here was narrow, trees pressing close on both sides. "If we can funnel them, force them to fight in close quarters where their numbers don’t matter as much..."
The convoy was pulling away, disappearing around a bend.
"We need to move." Liz started to stand.
"Wait." Marcus extended his Soul Reading one more time, scanning for any other signatures in the area. The last thing they needed was to ambush the convoy and get ambushed themselves.
Nothing. Just the convoy, the prisoners, and empty forest.
"Clear." Marcus stood, brushing dirt from his knees.
"Let’s circle ahead, find a good ambush point."
They moved quickly through the forest, parallel to the road but staying out of sight. Marcus’s mind was already working through the tactical problem.
"The soldiers." Marcus glanced at Liz. "What’s their strength tier?"
Liz studied them carefully from their hidden position she had before hand studied abit about aShfang natives. "In Duskhollow’s ranks, these are probably Tier 2. Maybe Tier 3 according to their badge markings."
"So how strong are they?" Marcus’s eyes narrowed. "I’m sure we’ll need to find out."
The odds were manageable. But this wasn’t a goblin nest. These were trained soldiers with military discipline and corrupted armor.
"There." Marcus pointed to a section of road where a fallen tree created a natural chokepoint. "They’ll have to slow down for that. Maybe even stop to move it."
"And we hit them then." Liz nodded, understanding the plan immediately.
They positioned themselves on opposite sides of the road. Marcus behind a thick oak with good sight lines to the chokepoint. Liz in a dense thicket where she could strike from concealment.
The sound of wheels and boots approached. Marcus slowed his breathing, hand ready to materialize Dagon. His Soul Reading stayed active, tracking the convoy’s emotional signatures as they drew closer.