A Skin of a Dragon (The Guild of Gatekeepers Book 1)

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A Skin of a Dragon (The Guild of Gatekeepers Book 1) Page 20

by Frances Jones


  The waning moon was just beginning to rise over the valley. Now past its full, it still offered enough light to betray an intruder sneaking around a roadside camp. I had to be quick. Skirting the edge of the camp, I moved round to the opposite end to get another view and benefit from the bit of light that still lingered from the remains of a camp fire that had been left to burn. The watch-men now had their backs to me, and I could see the platoon commander lying asleep just a few rows of men away. One of his hands was placed like a pillow under his head while the other held my pack close. I stood watching him for a few moments, afraid to move and fearful of rousing the entire camp. I had come this far, and there was no going back. Without further hesitation, I tore a strip of cloth from my cloak and tied it about my face, covering my mouth and nose, before tossing the vesana flagrant into the middle of the camp. It blazed for a moment before exploding and engulfing the soldiers in its vapour.

  'Gar, what devilry is this?' cried one of the watch-men, leaping to his feet. Curses and cries of dismay filled the air as the soldiers scrambled to reach their weapons and crashed blindly into one another as they fled, disoriented and afraid.

  My eyes streamed with tears as the vapour crept towards me, but I blinked them back and plunged into the fog of chaos towards the platoon commander. At the same moment a black shape flashed past me, sweeping down from above. The commander, woken by the commotion, let out a cry of pain as a hunting hawk soared out of the vapour, carrying my pack in its talons.

  All around me, soldiers ran wildly about, seized by the temporary madness of the vesana flagrants. My eyes stung, and I wheezed and retched as the vapour seeped through the cloth bound about my mouth and nose. The fog had completely obscured what little light the camp fires offered, but I could just make out the shape of the hawk against the muted moonlight, overcome by the noxious fumes and struggling to fly.

  'The Venatorian!' I breathed to myself. Had he been following us all along? And if so, where was Rupert?

  As I scrambled after the hawk, dodging the disoriented soldiers that came crashing towards me, a familiar cry filled the night sky. From out of the darkness, the Shadow Horse appeared galloping towards the camp, its mane ablaze with white flame. It leapt at the hawk, and catching it in its mouth, shook it with all its strength. The hawk let out a furious call and clawed and jabbed with its bill, but the horse held firm, flinging the bird about like a rag doll until it released the pack from its grip. At once, the horse dropped the hawk and snatched my pack in its mouth, but the hawk wasn't finished. It clawed and pecked and beat its wings as I drew the pistol from its holster and fired. Immediately, a volley of shots followed from around the camp. Several seconds seemed to pass before the hawk dropped lifeless to the ground, and from out of the smoke the Shadow Horse galloped away towards the hills. In its mouth, it carried my pack.

  Chapter 57

  Through the chaos, the sound of a bugle rang out clear and loud. The horse wheeled round then halted, turning its head towards the sound. Upon the hillside, Eliza stood with the Venatorian’s bugle to her lips, the very one she had taken when we left London in the autumn.

  Behind me, the noise in the camp was distant, momentarily forgotten as I watched Eliza move slowly towards the horse. The breeze moved softly through its mane, the moonlight shimmering upon it, but though the world moved around it, some enchantment seemed to have reached over the beast.

  It stood motionless, its proud head bowed, the wildness in its eyes somehow muted; no longer the fierce pursuer we must flee, nor yet the timid, uneasy companion of humans that domestic horses have become. It didn’t resist Eliza’s approach, nor recoil as she reached her hand towards it and took my pack from its mouth. It stood as though frozen in time upon the dark hillside. Slowly, she caressed its muzzle and whispered softly in its ears.

  ‘Sleep now. Return to your slumber. Your time has not yet come.’

  As she spoke, she reached for the dragonskin and, uncovering it, passed it gently across the horse’s eyes. At once, the horse sank to its knees and rolled onto its side. Even as I looked on, it seemed to vanish into the hillside, leaving nothing behind but a faint white outline in the earth where it had lain.

  Only a short distance away, the vapour was beginning to clear, and the confused cries of the soldiers drew nearer as they searched for their scattered comrades. Eliza and I stood lost in our thoughts as we stared at the sleeping horse, now little more than a figure that appeared as though cut into the hillside.

  'We have to leave,' I said, glancing towards the road as the shouts of the soldiers grew closer. 'We haven't much time before the vapour's effects wear off.'

  We clambered into the saddles and at once set the horses to a gallop, giving the road a wide berth as the soldiers began to re-organise themselves. They would undoubtedly go in search of their mysterious assailant, and I had no desire to await a confrontation with them.

  ‘I fear the Shadow Horse was just one pursuer of many that we have to thwart,’ said Eliza as the land flashed swiftly by. ‘The hawk you shot was the Venatorian’s, to be sure, and that means he is close by.’

  Barely a quarter of a mile ahead, the bridge crossing the River Wey lay before us. The dark, swift-moving water shimmered where the light of the late moon glinted off its surface, and now and then the rustle of something scurrying about on the banks could be heard above the gentle swish of the water.

  'We should cross the river before the soldiers have chance to re-group,’ I said, but no sooner had I spoken the words than a bullet whistled over my head.

  I reined Ralph and wheeled round to see the Venatorian upon his mighty horse atop a low hill around which the road skirted. His musket was ready in his hand and he charged his horse towards us at full gallop.

  'Over the bridge! Quick!' I cried. The bridge was tantalisingly close, but the road and the surrounding land on the other side were wide and open, and impossible to hide from a pursuer within. There was nowhere to run and no option but to fight.

  'We can't out-ride the Venatorian! cried Eliza.

  'Take this and ride hard,' I replied, tossing her my pack. 'I'll catch up with you if I can. Go!'

  I struck Ruby on the rump and set her to a gallop before Eliza had chance to argue then reached for the flintlock and fired at the Venatorian. He rode on undeterred as the bullet fell to the ground spent. I ducked as he fired back in reply.

  The road to the rickety wooden bridge streaked out before me. Spurring Ralph forward, I followed Eliza with the pounding of the Venatorian's steed's hooves hammering close behind me. Another bullet grazed my neck, but I brushed the blood away and tried not to think of the pain as I flicked the reins, urging Ralph faster.

  The bridge was only a few strides away now. I glanced behind to see the Venatorian had slowed to reload his musket. I might yet make it. Just as Ralph's hooves touched the bridge, I drew the pouch of the flintlock's gunpowder from my pocket and tipped out its contents.

  The Venatorian was only yards behind me now and getting closer. As I reached the far side of the bridge, I halted and turned back to face him. He paused and urged his horse slowly onto the bridge with the confidence of a predator which has cornered its prey. Beneath us, the river, swollen by rain over recent days, flowed swift and deep. I pointed the flintlock at him and summoned what courage I could muster.

  'One step closer and 'twill be the last thing you do!' I cried.

  The Venatorian laughed. 'To think I would live to be threatened by the illiterate son of a fisherman!'

  He flicked the reins, and his horse took a step closer.

  'I warn you, I will do it!' I cried. The flintlock trembled in my hands as I spoke.

  'You haven't the mettle, boy!' he sneered. 'Give yourself up. 'Tis over now. You've nowhere left to run.' His finger rested upon the trigger of his musket, the tip whitening with the pressure bearing down upon it.

  'Never!' I cried as I pulled back the flintlock's trigger, adjusting my aim at the last moment towards the floor of the br
idge.

  The spark from the flint ignited the gunpowder instantly. Flames engulfed the little bridge as fragments of wood flew through the air with a deafening boom. The horse staggered backwards and reared up as the bridge disappeared beneath its feet, but the Venatorian was a skilled horseman. He held fast and steadied his steed, but the force of the explosion was greater than he imagined, and the saturated ground of the river bank was treacherous and loose. As his horse backed away from the edge, a great clump of earth dislodged from beneath its feet, sending it rearing up and its rider crashing into the torrent below.

  Chapter 58

  'Tom!' cried Eliza from some way off.

  I stared down in bewilderment at the dark, swift-moving water. There was no sign of the Venatorian. His horse stood on the opposite bank, snorting and scraping at the ground with its hooves, but there wasn't a sound above the ordinary night-time noises of a river, and not a ripple left to indicate where its master had entered the water.

  'Tom!' Eliza called again.

  Reluctantly, I tore my gaze away from the river and followed the sound of Eliza's voice to a dell a short distance from the road. There she waited with Ruby.

  'What happened? Where is the Venatorian? Did you see Rupert?' she asked anxiously.

  'No, there was no sign of Rupert. We ought to keep moving; those soldiers won't be far, and there is no telling what has become of the Venatorian. There is some devilry afoot, to be sure. He disappeared as soon as he entered the water. I fear we have not seen the last of him.'

  'Then we had better prey we reach London before he finds us,' replied Eliza. 'He is a fearsome enemy. It will only be a matter of time before he tracks us. I'm dreadfully afraid for Rupert.'

  'And I,' I said. 'I fear he may have been handed over to others in order for the Venatorian to return to track us.'

  Eliza's face sank, and the moonlight illuminated the look of horror upon it. 'Do you think he is still alive?' she whispered, hardly daring to vocalise the new fear which now gripped her.

  'He is more use to Devere alive than dead until we are caught,' I replied. 'That is some comfort.'

  Eliza nodded, but her unease was evident.

  'Come, let's lead the horses for a bit,' I said. 'The ground here is too marshy for riding, and we ought not tarry in one place too long.'

  'Wait! Your neck,' gasped Eliza, noticing the scratch that the Venatorian's bullet had dealt me as I led the way.

  ''Tis just a scratch,' I replied, brushing my fingers against the wound, but I winced as I did so, and my neck throbbed at my touch.

  'Scratch or not, it needs tending to before we move on,' replied Eliza. 'I daren't light a fire to boil water, but let me dress it at least until it can be cleaned as it should be.'

  Reluctantly I agreed, sensing that objecting would only delay us further. At last, with my wound bound and midnight passing, we set off once more, walking in file as we led the horses. We walked in silence for two more hours while the moonlight provided us with light enough to see. There was no sign of pursuit, yet we dared not risk the road, keeping instead to the country of the Wey valley.

  The moon had disappeared, and the land and sky were black and featureless in the lonely hours before dawn. Too weary to walk any further, we stopped at an abandoned shepherd's cot to rest for the remainder of the night, taking turns to keep watch.

  Just before dawn we were off again, passing like shadows through the grey, lifeless world around us. All day we rode, glancing furtively over our shoulders and to the sky above. It seemed too much to hope that the Venatorian would cease his pursuit. I had no doubt that he wasn’t drowned in the river but rather had retreated to prepare for another assault once he had us somewhere we could not flee.

  'That is the last of our food,' said Eliza as we ate our mid-day meal.

  'We shall have to forage what we can from now,' I replied, ‘or else we must tighten our belts and ride hard to London.'

  'I hope George replies soon,' replied Eliza. 'I have not felt so alone and fearful since we left London.'

  By sundown, we stood upon the banks of the river Thames and looked across to the town of Richmond. Beyond, the dark tangle of streets and alleyways that made up the outer slums of London could just be seen.

  'We should wait till morning to cross into London,' I said. 'We'll look less conspicuous travelling by day.'

  Eliza agreed, and we headed for the cover of a cluster of trees to make our camp for the night. Mercifully, the snow had held off and the wind was milder.

  As we climbed the bank at the roadside, the sun made a brief appearance before setting white in the pallid sky. A little way ahead, the clip of horse hoofs sounded from around a bend in the road. Before we had chance to disappear into the shadow of the trees, a figure on a chestnut-coloured horse rode into view. He wore a large cocked hat that was pulled down over his face and a black cape and riding boots. My thoughts turned instantly to the Venatorian.

  'Stop!' the rider commanded as he approached us and drew a pistol from his cape. The voice sounded too soft to be a man's. 'Stand and deliver.'

  Eliza and I froze, for a moment too shocked to think of fleeing. The rider halted before us with the pistol trained upon my head. In the gathering gloom it was difficult to see their face, but I felt sure that the rider was, in fact, a woman.

  'We have nothing of any value,' I said, finally finding my voice. 'Here, this is all.'

  I handed the rider our two packs which contained the very last crumbs of our food and the empty water skins. She snatched them from my hand and glanced inside before handing them back.

  'The gun,' she barked, gesturing to the flintlock that hung at my side.

  I handed it over without question, hoping that it might satisfy the rogue and we could carry on our way, but she showed no sign of letting us pass.

  'Now empty your pockets,' she demanded.

  My heart sank. I had stowed the dragonskin in the pocket of my jerkin after our adventures with the platoon of soldiers, and there it was presently hidden. Eliza turned out her pockets obediently, but I hesitated.

  'And you,' said the rider, looking at me.

  Reluctantly, I turned out the pockets of my breeches. The rider nodded, satisfied that they were empty. I held my breath, hoping that in the failing light she wouldn't notice the bulge in my jerkin.

  'And your jerkin,' she barked.

  I hesitated and stared down the barrel of the pistol. In a split second, I wondered whether the rider would really shoot if I refused and whether she would be satisfied with my explanation that the dragonskin was of no great importance if I obliged.

  'Now!' she demanded.

  I felt my pulse quicken. There was nothing else for it. This time Rupert wouldn't be there to save us at the last moment. Slowly, I drew the dragonskin from my pocket and handed it to the rider, wrapped in the rags of my old cloak. The rider unfolded them carefully with one hand. In her other hand, she still held the pistol to my head.

  'Ah, the dragonskin,' she said softly, holding it up to the light to examine it. A silvery light seemed to glow through its surface, though the moon had not yet risen and everything else around us was shrouded in darkness.

  Chapter 59

  'Here, you had better keep it hidden,' she said, reaching down from her horse and returning the dragonskin to me.

  I couldn't quite believe what I was hearing. I stood rooted to the spot, my hands hanging limply at my sides for a few moments before I realised Eliza was looking at me with an imploring expression on her face. Taking the dragonskin back from the rider, I returned it to my pocket.

  'I had to be sure I had found the right people,' the rider continued. 'George knows some cunning folk, and whoever it is that he has got himself mixed up with, I wouldn't put it beyond them to try to deceive me.'

  Returning the pistol to its holster, she turned her horse back the way she had come.

  'Hurry up,' she said sharply, looking back at us over her shoulder. 'We haven't got all night! This road i
s a notorious haunt for highway robbers, so unless you hope to meet one much less sympathetic than me, I suggest you get back on your horses and follow me.'

  'Pardon me,' said Eliza, 'but who are you?'

  'And pardon me,' said the rider, 'but I have already told you that we haven't got all night!'

  In a moment, she whipped the pistol out of its holster and fired at the ground just before Eliza's feet. Eliza let out a yelp and leapt out of the way. Ralph and Ruby whinnied and moved to bolt, but the rider had grabbed their reins and held them steady before they had chance to run. She flashed Eliza a severe look and flung the reins to us.

  'Now, unless you wish to feel the bullet of a highwayman's pistol between your eyes, I advise you to get back on your horses and follow me. There will be time for talk when we get to where we are going.'

  We did as we were instructed without another word and rode side by side behind the rider, following the road as it wound its way through Richmond and on towards the black forms of the city. Neither of us dared to ask where we were going or how much further it would be, though the suspense turned out to be short lived.

  On the outskirts of Richmond, the rider stopped at a churchyard and dismounted. She thrust open the gates, gesturing for us to ride through. The gates clanged shut behind her, and she ordered us to dismount.

  'Follow me,' she said, leading us through the tombs and tumbled headstones to a corner of the churchyard that had been overtaken by a mass of strangling ivy. She parted it like a curtain, revealing a metal grille set into what appeared to be the side of a long-forgotten tomb.

 

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