Through Narrow Passages by GrayOverload, on Flickr
The day was a crispy spring morning, with the flowers blooming a multitude of colors all around them, and the trees breathing new lives in green spattered limbs. The sky was a yawning blue, and the sun beamed down to illuminate the packed earth path tracing it’s way through the forest.
A trumpet rang out from the lips of Walter, who posed the horn at an angle by craning his neck. His steed trotted at a similar pace to the other horses, black as midnight. The procession clattered and clanged their way on the road before them, growing narrow beneath the shade of tall thin pine trees.
The party also included Martin, sitting atop a black destrier of his own. A short sword dangled at the side of the saddle, but it was merely for show. Behind him trailed a large host of Wyvern soldiers, with no banner in sight. This was not a war convoy, but merely an armed escort.
At the head of the armored host were a spectacle of marching golden banners streaming in the breeze, and atop a red clothed mare sat Cordelia, her cloak ruffling gently in the wind. Her hair was tied up regally, very much in contrast to her hair earlier, which laid itself long across her red dress. She clutched a banner on a lance of her own, and smiled grandly. A long sword was attached to the saddle, but Cordelia knew she wouldn’t be able to effectively use the blade in battle.
Cordelia sat further upright in the saddle, breathing in the fresh air of the northern forest. While generally similar, the forests this far north had thinner, taller trees. Forests and wooded grasslands in the Middle Continent were specked in thick, broad trees with dense oak.
She could almost envision her host boarding the massive ships, and finally raising the black banner of the Wyvern Kingdom in a declaration of war against her usurper brother, but the White Apothecary had been adamant against her war-waging wishes when she finally declared herself Empress Of The Lion Empire.
I wonder how he is, that wise old man. Cordelia pondered. The apothecary, Robert, Archibald, and the rest of the escort had taken a different pathway to gain additional support to the traveling party. It would do well to properly intimidate Thomas when the company arrived in Gotharc to claim the throne.
Flowers bloomed all around them and wavered in the wind. The path grew tighter and tighter around them, almost as if the forest wished to choke them. Cordelia grew tense just as easily as she had been prideful, realizing that it would take a decent amount of time to funnel the massive host she had assembled through the forest.
The more time I squander, the more time Thomas has to prepare himself. Cordelia mused. The apothecary’s plan to amicably take the throne only works if I arrive closely with the owl sent carrying the message. Too late, and Thomas may attempt to lop my head off before I can produce the document.
The wind whistled quietly as Walter blew through the golden horn once more, alerting the entire wilderness around them of their presence. The shifting and rattling of swords and chainmail rattled out softly with each step, and the party continued on.
This is the fourteenth chapter of my story A Lion In The Wyvern's Nest, the rest of which can be read here. Additional photos can be seen on Brickshelf. C&C welcome, as always.
I love the forest feel! And, as usual, sweet story! Cant' wait till she meets Thomas! 
