Moss Gate

by Alex Linwood

  The younger guard stepped in between the two, heading off the confrontation. “We are also patrolling for bandits. The route has simply been arranged to go in the direction you need to go.”

  Lady Harper nodded graciously at this and said nothing further.

  The younger guard gave Lady Harper and Portia a bow, which elicited a disgusted snort from the surly one. “I never gave you my name before. I am Lieutenant Jassock. Please ask me directly if there’s anything you need.” He addressed Lady Harper, but his eyes kept looking to his surly guard companion, letting him know the words were for him as well. It was a warning to keep the peace.

  Keeping eye contact, he walked over to the surly guard and clapped him on the back and then turned to Lady Harper and Portia. “My pleasant companion here is Zeck.” His eyes laughed as he introduced the unhappy guard, who growled under his breath. Portia hoped she would not have to ride near the glowering man. “But enough pleasantries, we must be off.”

  At his command, his guardsmen moved quickly. Portia took the reins of the horse that were handed to her while Lady Harper and the guards mounted their own rides. The group followed Lieutenant Jassock out of the square to the northeast and towards the road leading to Rocabarra.

  Portia enjoyed the morning ride. The town was quiet as most folks were still asleep in their beds. The birds were just beginning to wake and made pleasant songs in the nearby trees. Lady Harper handed her a sandwich of cheese and bread. The bread was chewy but tasted good, the cheese of a good quality. She must’ve purchased these items the night before, for even the bread smith was not awake yet.

  They passed through a wide expansive plain, tall grasses waving in the morning breeze. The air smelled of freshly turned earth. Spring was fast upon the kingdom, and the farmers were making use of the time to prepare for spring planting. In the distance, she spied at least one farmer out with his oxen. Up to the right, she could see the dark mass that was a forest, and beyond that there were smudges on the horizon that Portia thought might be mountains. The plains were reassuring in the lack of cover they provided for any would-be ambushers, even if they provided no cover for the traveling group themselves. Portia wished the grass was just a bit shorter but consoled herself that no horse could be hidden even so. And bandits on foot were much less formidable than any bandits mounted on horseback.

  The guards themselves were silent. Portia could not tell if it was through discipline or boredom, or concentration on the surrounding land.

  As the day wore on and the sun rose, the rhythmic steps of the horse rocked Portia into a light daze. She was not quite asleep but had difficulty maintaining her alertness. She hoped the guards were more used to this sort of journey and were paying better attention. Portia knew it was the wrong attitude, but no matter how hard she tried, her eyelids kept drooping down. Somehow she managed to stay awake enough to not fall off her horse.

  By the time the sun reached noon they were close to the forest on the right side of the road. Anxiety gripped Portia’s stomach as she looked towards the dark mass of trees. She hoped they were not stopping there for lunch, not after the events of two days prior when they had been attacked at such a place.

  As if reading her mind, Lieutenant Jassock motioned for the group to tighten up and to stay on the far side of the road, away from the forest. They were not taking the risk of stopping there. Portia breathed a small sigh of relief, but she could not stop herself from continually looking to the right to try to see into the trees, to see if there were any men or horses within.

  But eventually even the fear of the forest receded as hours wore on. The trees were not as close anymore and were soon left behind. Without the distraction of constantly looking into the woods, Portia’s awareness shifted to her growling stomach and the way her back and legs ached. She shifted uncomfortably in her saddle, unused to riding horseback, much less for such a long time. Perhaps they would stop somewhere tonight where she could take a long hot bath.

  Lady Harper drew her horse alongside Portia’s, offering her a small twig. Portia looked at it curiously but didn’t take it. Lady Harper waved the stick towards her, urging her to accept it. “Chew on it. It will make you feel better. Then you’ll stop wiggling around and making the guards behind you giggle.” Lady Harper’s eyes danced as she spoke.

  Portia turned around to see three guards suddenly looking away and scanning the horizon from edge to edge. They looked anywhere but at her. Portia quickly turned around again, her back stiff with embarrassment, face flaming all the way to her ears. They had been laughing at her. She grabbed the stick from Lady Harper and bit down on it hard, chewing it as fast as she could.

  Lady Harper burst into laughter. “It’s not so bad. Every one of us can remember when we first learned to ride.”

  Portia wanted to believe her, but she was still mortified. She couldn’t bring herself to speak.

  The screech of metal on metal pulled Portia to alertness immediately. There was something in the grass to their right. Something or someone between them and the forest, which was now behind them and to the right.

  Lieutenant Jassock turned his horse quickly and looked around. He scanned the grasses and surrounding area then waved the group to ride down the left side of the road, away from where the noise had come. The land dropped lower there, and they were more protected from whatever was on the far side of the road. Portia hoped there was nothing on the side as well.

  “Stay here,” Jassock commanded to Lady Harper and Portia. Lady Harper did not look pleased but nodded in assent. He rounded up his men to form a loose semicircle and move them towards the noise in the grass on the far side of the road.

  Portia didn’t think this was a great idea. The guardsmen were noisy. They couldn’t help it with all the gear on their horses. She thought it would be better to sneak up on whoever was there. Who or whatever was in the grass had lost the element of surprise so there was no reason for their group to not claim it back. Not drawing attention to yourself was one of the key rules she had learned as a thief. And Lieutenant Jassock and his men were too loud to do anything but draw attention.

  She slid off her horse and handed the reins to Lady Harper who raised her brows. Portia held up one finger to her mouth, hoping Lady Harper would cooperate and be quiet. Lady Harper did one better and slipped from her own horse, indicating she wanted to follow Portia. Portia nodded. Lady Harper took the reins of the two horses and set them under a large rock in the grass at their feet. Portia hoped this would be enough to keep the horses from wandering.

  Portia pointed to the far side of the road. The two of them crouched low and ran through the grass to the edge of the road, peering over to the far side. The guardsmen were walking their horses through the tall grasses looking for something, but nothing else was visible. Portia’s ears pricked at the sound of metal on metal once again. It was the same sound as before but quieter. It was not from the guardsmen or their horses. It was off to the side of the guardsmen semicircle. They would miss it.

  Portia ran across the road, carefully placing her feet so as to not drag them and make noise. Lady Harper followed her so silently that Portia would not have known she was with her if she had not seen the elf running with her own eyes. Portia wished she could be that stealthy. It put any of the thieves she had known to shame.

  They made it to the far side and crouched in the tall grass. They were now on the same side of the road as the guardsmen and whoever was hiding in the grasses. Running quickly, Portia pulled out her long knife and headed directly towards the sound. She stopped about twenty feet from where she estimated she had last heard it. She breathed through her mouth, the sound of air through her nostrils sounding far too loud in her ears. She held as still as she could and listened, her ears and hands tingling as she strained to hear any more noises.

  There it was again, but softly. Whoever it was couldn’t seem to sit still. It sounded like two people shifting on their feet. The metal must have been something on them, some weapon or armor or so
mething similar. Portia turned to Lady Harper and held up two fingers. Lady Harper nodded back, then motioned forward. Portia nodded in agreement with the command to attack, then mouthed the words one, two, three. On three, both she and Lady Harper rushed forward.

  What they found were two men—skinny beyond belief—crouched in the grasses. They did indeed have swords but dropped them in fright when Lady Harper and Portia appeared with their weapons drawn. Just to be safe, Portia sent a river of ice towards each man, attaching them to the grasses growing around them. She had been thinking about how to fight off an attack during their journey and had decided fire was a bad idea. It would create too much smoke and could alert possible bandits around them of their presence, something she did not want to do. Especially since the last time they drew the attention of someone it had cost them most of their party. So, for this journey, at least as far as the men would know, her only power was that of ice and cryomancy. She would follow the instructions she was given to not reveal herself as a Jack.

  The men squeaked as the ice encased them and came up to their waists. Portia sent a band of ice around their mouths to quiet them, carefully avoiding their nostrils. She didn’t want to kill them.

  Running around the edges of the small clearing the men were in, she didn’t see any other people. There were only bent grasses where the men had walked.

  A wave of exhaustion overcame Portia. Running that much magic at once took a lot out of her. She sank to one knee, feeling slightly ill.

  Another loud sound came from about fifty feet away. Lady Harper jumped up to look around but stayed where she was when she saw two guardsmen in the vicinity. Portia was vaguely aware of a struggle in the distance but blackness was encroaching on her vision and she felt weak and about to faint.

  Minutes later, Lieutenant Jassock rode into the small clearing with a third skinny man flung across his saddle. His normally laughing eyes were enraged. “What are you doing here? You were told to stay. Ordered to stay.”

  Lady Harper rose to her full height, which barely reached the stirrups of the horse. “And yet here we are, having found our quarry before you did.”

  “And nearly dying for it,” Lieutenant Jassock spit out. He dumped the unconscious man at their feet and then threw down a quiver of arrows and a long bow. “It was a trap. Luckily we kept it from springing shut.”

  Lady Harper was uncharacteristically quiet at that. Portia sat back. The blackness in her vision was receding, but she was not well enough yet to stand.

  Several of the other guardsmen rode up. One of them offered a canteen of water to Portia and she took it and drank deeply, gratefully. The water tasted good. It was cool in her stomach. She held the canteen up to her forehead to allow the coolness to settle on her face.

  Zeck rode up leading Lady Harper and Portia’s horses. “We’re all clear. I rescued these before we ended up carrying these two idiots the whole way to the border.”

  Normally, Lieutenant Jassock would have said something to curb Zeck’s rudeness but this time he merely pursed his lips and nodded. Portia felt bad at that. She did not want to lose their champion. Having an entire escort of hostile guardsmen was not an appealing prospect.

  Lieutenant Jassock dismounted and kicked the weapons away from the two men on the ground. Portia realized with shock that what she thought were swords were not nearly so formidable—one was a carved wooden replicate, which would have been useless against a real blade, and the other was a rusty piece of metal so riddled with corrosion and holes it did not look like it could withstand a single blow. These men were in no position to offer battle. What could they be doing there?

  Jassock walked up to the men and noticed the ice over their mouths. He turned with a questioning look to Lady Harper and Portia. Lady Harper shrugged and pointed to Portia. Taking a rock, Lieutenant Jassock chipped the ice and pulled it away from the skin, leaving it red and sore around the men’s mouths. He held his hand to one man’s face, warming it, while another guardsman did the same to the other man. The men were shivering under the weak spring sun. The captured men looked down and refused to meet the eyes of anyone in the party.

  The unconscious man groaned and rolled his head a bit on the ground, coming to. Lady Harper went to his side and checked his body. “This one is all right, with perhaps a sprained ankle. It is hard to tell. It’s not broken, but it is swelling quickly.” Zeck grunted at this. He didn’t care how injured the man was.

  Lieutenant Jassock sat back on the ground and faced the two men. Portia did not think it was a coincidence he chose to do that instead of standing above them, his weapon at their necks. He was good enough with people to get on their level. “What are you doing here? No good, I am guessing.”

  The bolder of the two men encased in ice flicked his eyes up to Lieutenant Jassock and spit out in a belligerent tone, “We weren’t bothering you. No reason to be attacking us so.”

  “Did you show such restraint only because there were so many of us?” Lieutenant Jassock asked. “That is hardly the basis for a good relationship. Or were you merely the bait so someone else could attack us?” Jassock nodded at the third man sprawled on the ground.

  The belligerent man looked away, his jaw flexing. “You dunno know us. We’re good people. It’s not our fault.”

  Portia looked at the men closely. Neither one looked like they’d had a full meal for months; their jaws were sharp lines against their skinny necks. Their clothes hung off them, making them look like scarecrows and not adult men.

  “Okay, let’s go off that assumption: you’re good men. Then what are you doing out here where there are no houses, no farms, no way to live? The only thing you could have been doing was preying on people on the road. Unfortunately for you, this group was too large. Help me understand how you are good people.” Lieutenant Jassock pulled a blade of grass and stuck it in his teeth, chewing as he stared at the two men. He waited patiently for their answer. Everyone watched and said nothing.

  Silence held for a few minutes, punctuated only by the sound of the wind through the grass and the few noises of insects calling. The belligerent man finally looked up again at Lieutenant Jassock. He pulled himself up as much as he could while still encased in the ice. It was melting around him, and he would soon be sitting in a puddle. Nevertheless, he tried to show some pride. “I’m a farmer. I had a large farm and a family and helpers. I had twenty-three cattle. Then them came along… and destroyed it.” He spat to the ground next to him. He lifted his chin defiantly. “Did any of you come to help, eh? No. You fancy guardsmen let my farm be destroyed and my family gone. And whoever is left is starving. You call me a bad man? You all ’tis evil as they are.”

  Lieutenant Jassock did not say anything to this. He continued to chew the grass, waiting for any further words to come. When none came, he finally spoke again. “That does not sound good. Who destroyed your farm?”

  The belligerent man did not look at Lieutenant Jassock. He refused to look at any of the guards. His jaw worked.

  “I can’t protect you if you don’t tell me,” Lieutenant Jassock said, leaning in to emphasize his point.

  Lady Harper walked and stood in front of the belligerent man so he could see her. His eyes flickered to her face nervously. “Did by chance any of those attackers have a tattoo or a brand of a diamond on their forearms?”

  The eyes of both captive men opened wider. The one who had not spoken before whispered, “anti-magickers” as he struggled in a panic against the ice still around his legs.

  “Answer the lady,” Lieutenant Jassock said firmly.

  “Dunno know what you’re talking about,” the belligerent man said as he glared at the other captive, an edge of hysteria in his voice.

  The other man finally managed to free his legs and scrambled to his feet, shakily trying to run. One of the guardsmen grabbed him and easily restrained him. The man’s eyes were wide, the white showing as he looked around. His fear was palpable.

  Lady Harper turned to address Lieutenant
Jassock. “They know of the men that attacked us, but I fear we will get no answers while they are in this state. If these attackers are destroying farms, perhaps that explains the rise in bandits around here. Survival is a powerful motivator.”

  Lieutenant Jassock nodded thoughtfully at this. He rose, indicating for his men to take the captives. Two of the men had to help the man with the sprained ankle. “We’ll ride with these three as guests. When we have some distance from here we can eat and decide what to do next.”

  At the mention of food, the captives calmed down a little and did not struggle nearly so hard.

  To Portia’s relief, she was recovered from her efforts with the magic and did not need any assistance getting on her horse.

  The captives had no horses of their own so had to share with the guardsmen in the convoy. Portia was glad Jassock didn’t make them walk since they looked so thin already. They put an hour’s distance between them and the fight location then stopped for a break. Jassock handed each one of the captives a generous hunk of bread and cheese, as well as a piece of fruit. The men tore into the food, wolfing it down. One of them nearly choked on the dry bread, and a guardsman had to come up behind him and clap him on the back, shoving a canteen in his hands to drink from and ease the bread down.

  Portia chewed her own lunch, unable to draw her eyes away from the starving men. She felt bad for them. She knew the pain of not having enough to eat and how it would make you do things you never thought you would. These men were desperate. Perhaps they were not bad after all, just hungry and terrified.

  After they had all finished their meal, Lady Harper approached the man with the sprained ankle. She touched it gently with a few fingers and he jumped, biting back a yelp of pain. She began quietly singing a tune, thumping her hand on the ground in a complex rhythm. Portia’s neck tingled as she felt the magic flowing from Lady Harper to the man. Portia imagined she could see the magic curing his ankle, reducing the swelling before her eyes. The tension in the man’s face eased. His brow, before furrowed tightly, relaxed, and his eyes drooped into sleepy exhaustion.