by Glynn James
He grabbed the rabbit from the snare and walked back to his lean-to. Loner dropped it to the ground and snarled, running his hands through his straggly hair.
“I’ll do just fine on my own, you’ll see. I don’t need you or the clans.”
Loner looked up, and he could have sworn he saw branches moving on the other side of the trail. He stopped and listened, but heard nothing but the bubbling creek in the near distance.
“You are all fools, and you will pay with your lives. Nobody listens to me, nobody cares about my ideas.”
The sun felt stronger now on his face, and Loner had a sudden urge to go and hide in the shade. His cheeks burned, and he felt his heart slamming against his rib cage.
“I can’t hear you, motherfucker. Speak up.”
A crow cawed from high in the trees. Loner threw his poncho to the ground and then wiped the sweat from his face.
“Show yourself. Face me like a man.”
The forest held its silence.
Loner sat down in the dirt and shook his head. He looked at the rabbit but no longer had an appetite. He couldn’t keep doing this. He had freed himself from Briar and all the rest, and yet still they tortured him. It wasn’t fair, and he wouldn’t stand for it.
“Fine. I’ll come back. And when I do, I’m going to put a blade right through your fucking chest.”
Loner reached down and grabbed the rabbit, tossing it into his satchel. He stomped on the hot coals casting flaming dust into the morning air before reaching up and tearing the pine branches to the ground.
“I’m coming for you, Briar. I’m going to kill you.”
He ran for the trail, both hands full. Loner stepped from the woods and into the clearing at the edge of the trail, feeling the sun burning unmercifully on the top of his head. He turned, continuing down the path he had walked the night before.
“Stop and drop what you’re carrying.”
Loner spun around, his eyes darting back and forth from the tree line to the trail. He was tired of arguing with Briar. But these words rang in his ears. For a split second, he thought they might even be real.
“Drop your weapons or we will kill you right here.”
The bushes parted, and Loner watched as the first two scouts emerged from the wilderness. Cygoa. What could they possibly be doing this far south, miles from the breach? Although Loner could not be sure if Briar had been in his camp earlier this morning, he had no doubt that these warriors were real and that they would follow through on their threats.
“Okay,” he said, opening both hands and letting his weapons and satchel hit the ground. His stomach growled at the thought of the rabbit stew he would not be eating. “What do you want?”
Two more scouts appeared on his other side—both had arrows aimed at his chest.
“You don’t get to ask us questions. Take a step back from the satchel and we’ll promise to make your death a quick one.”
Loner’s throat tightened, and he felt beads of sweat rolling down the side of his face and into his beard. The Cygoa scouts surrounded him, and even if he had a weapon, they would strike him down before he could use it. His vengeance would have to wait until the next life—he didn’t think he would be able to take down Briar in this one. But something inside convinced him it was worth playing out the last option that he had. He raised his arms and shook his head before speaking again.
“I can get you the Elk.”
The scout behind Loner punched him in the back of the head. He fell forward, dropped to the ground, and tried shaking the stars from his vision.
“Liar.”
He used his left hand to keep from falling and raised his right hand, his finger pointing to the sky. “I am from Briar’s clan. He has aligned with the Elk. You can get to Jonah from Briar, and I can take you to him.”
One of the other scouts drove the toe of his boot into Loner’s ribs. The kick lifted him off the ground and the momentum spun him around. He landed on his back, gasping for air. The tip of a long dagger now bobbed between his eyes.
“I have a lot I can tell you. If you find out it’s not true, you can kill me. I can take you to Briar. I can get you Jonah.”
“Let’s take him to Greensboro and wait for Carlossa.”
Loner waited, hoping the other three scouts would agree with the one making the recommendation.
“He’s a piece of shit. We should kill him right now.”
“No. He can carry our supplies back to Greensboro. Then, if we need to, we can kill him there.”
He blinked and glanced at the faces of the Cygoa warriors standing above him, but the sun and the blow to the head blurred his vision. Loner thought that if they were going to kill him, they would have done so already. The Cygoa were not known for their verbal negotiations.
“Get up,” one of the scouts said, while two others grabbed Loner by the arms and dragged him to his feet. “You had a chance to die quickly. Whatever happens now is on you.”
Loner opened his mouth but decided against speaking. Carrying the gear to Greensboro with a broken nose would not be enjoyable. Briar first; that had been the plan since he left camp. He would have to wait to get his revenge on these sons of bitches.
Chapter 21
The bush cracked loudly as Jonah parted it and forced his way through and onto the blacktop. Behind him, a dozen other warriors rushed up the slope, also pushing their way through the undergrowth and out onto the road. Jonah glanced in both directions, trying to locate the source of the noise. A moment later, Ghafir was at his side, the man’s bow already nocked with an arrow, ready to shoot.
“It was coming from this direction,” Jonah huffed, out of breath. He looked along the road in both directions and then into the bushes. Nothing called out to him.
Ghafir nodded. The man stood still on the road, also looking in all directions. “Did you hear it yourself or are we just going on what the folk back there said?” he asked with a nod to the forest behind them. Three groups of people claimed to have heard where the call had come from, and Jonah had been quite a distance away when he had heard the cry.
Jonah shook his head as he chose the southern path of the road and started walking quickly, glancing in all directions as he moved. The other warriors spread out, looking along the line of trees along the other side of the road. “No, I heard it myself,” he said, “but only one shout. I had to follow directions to bring us here. Whatever was happening is still going on, but where the hell are they?”
Ghafir looked at the ground along the side of the road but shook his head; he also saw nothing, no signs of recent passage. “I suggest we split into three groups but stay close together. Spread out but be ready to converge quickly, should we—”
“Over here,” shouted one of the warriors. The man was at the back of the group, facing north, up the road. He ran forward a few paces and then stopped, crouching to check the ground. Jonah turned and pushed his way through the group, running over to where the warrior knelt. On the ground he could see a patch of fresh blood, and nearby, stuck in the ground, was the broken shaft of a spear. The head of the spear was buried in the soil.
He squinted and looked into the tree line beyond the markings. How the hell had he not spotted that? Even at twenty yards the shaft of the spear stuck out from the bushes and grass. It was clearly in view.
“Okay, hold that idea,” Ghafir said as he arrived next to Jonah. He pointed beyond the patch of blood to a tuft of dark, coarse fur that had snagged on one of the branches of a nearby bush. “We stick together from here, I think.”
“Damn it,” said Jonah, shaking his head. “Wolves again?” He stepped past the spear and examined the fur. Blood dripped down the branch it was attached to. Fresh blood.
“Looks like they went that way,” Ghafir said, pointing at a clearing not far away. The bushes and ground in between were disturbed; branches broken, leaves scattered to the floor, and the undergrowth was heavily trodden.
Jonah stood up and looked through the trees into
the thick vegetation beyond. “There could be any number of them out there.”
“Not so many, I think,” said Ghafir. “There’s not as much disturbance in the bushes. I’d say a few came this way and happened upon whoever was up here alone. Some poor unlucky fellow stupid enough to be this far from the camp and on their own.”
“Or desperate,” said Jonah. He held his axe out and started forward, slowly pushing his way through the bushes. The other warriors followed, some circling around the nearby trees. None of them looked very keen to go farther into the forest, but they didn’t need to go very far. Just ten yards through the grass they found the remains of the two dead people. Who they were or what clan they were from was impossible to identify; the wolves had not only killed them quickly but had made a rapid feast of them too. Bloodied weapons lay scattered around the small clearing, and Jonah hoped that whoever they had been had managed to get a few hits in before they were torn apart.
“Little we can do here,” said Ghafir. “Nature will take care of the rest. We should leave them to their peace.”
Jonah nodded, glad that someone else had suggested it. He had no stomach for clearing up the mess in the clearing.
They left, pushing back through the undergrowth and out onto the blacktop. “If the wolves are back, they will badger us from now on. Unless we do something, this will continue,” Jonah said.
Ghafir didn’t answer, but he nodded in what Jonah presumed was agreement.
Jonah sighed. “I told everyone that no clan should be left outside the perimeter, even if we have to keep making the camp bigger. For lone people to be wandering around out here is just foolish. There’s little point increasing the watches, and putting more warriors on guard, if there are camps outside the barrier.”
“It’s their choice, though,” said Ghafir. “Some do not like to be part of the greater camp.”
“Then we have to put the word out that we can’t protect them unless they are,” said Jonah. “This,” he pointed back to the clearing, “I can’t stop if they are foolish enough to make camp hundreds of yards outside the main circle and wander around the forest alone.”
They started walking back the camp on the hill, and Jonah was silent, deep in thought. The wolves were back, and they would attack whoever wandered from the main caravan. Maybe they would attack it, like they had the autumn before when the Elk had camped in the Mall during the early days of The Walk. Tomorrow they would pack up the camp and travel the last stretch toward Raleigh, and they would be in the ruins again. That would offer some shelter and protection, but not enough. The ruins hadn’t stopped the wolves before. But what could be done?
“We need to be rid of these wolves,” he said aloud, though not to anyone in particular. Ghafir, who walked beside him, still said nothing.
Jonah stopped and smiled. Ghafir frowned at him, looking as though he was considering taking a step back.
“I may have just had an idea,” said Jonah.
“I’m getting a feeling I may not like this idea,” Ghafir said, though he couldn’t resist smiling back.
“Your kin can play their pipes and calm animals,” said Jonah. “And they have even used it to confuse Cygoa.”
Ghafir shook his head. “I did say before that my kin will not use the pipes in war, only in defense and a time of need.”
Jonah nodded. “I wasn’t meaning to put them against the Cygoa, Ghafir. I remember what you said. But maybe they would be willing to help us lay a trap for the wolves. They have, after all, been welcome in the camp for weeks now, and have lived off the generosity of the clans.”
Ghafir’s grin grew wider. “And the wolves are a threat to the children and the mothers, not just the warriors.”
Jonah laughed. “Exactly my thoughts.”
“And you have a plan?”
Jonah nodded. “Well, an idea. I will need to think on it, but in the meantime would you be able to speak to your folk and ask if they would be willing to help? They would be helping all the clans. They would, as you suggest, be protecting the children.”
“I can do that,” Ghafir said. “I am sure they will listen.”
“Good.” Jonah turned to the nearest warrior. “I need the word spreading that camps outside of the main perimeter cannot be protected. Whether they like it or not, anyone travelling with us must stay within the cart barrier. Tell any camp, small or large, that is set up outside the barrier.”
“Yes, Chief,” said the warrior.
“And be very descriptive about what you have witnessed today if they need any encouragement.”
The outer wall of the camp, built mostly from lined up carts and metal sheeting cut in the manner that Leta had designed, came into view. The camp was vast now, keeping more than a thousand folk inside the wall, and dozens of trails of smoke rose from within the barrier.
“And also spread the word that we leave first thing in the morning for Raleigh.“
Chapter 22
Loner felt the blisters beginning to pop on his feet. His eyes burned from the sweat that chilled his skin in the cold night air. They had been pushing him hard, relentlessly dragging him through the forest, tethered by a rope which now rubbed the skin on his wrists raw. A few hours ago, they had stopped for long enough to shove a piece of moldy, dried meat into his mouth, followed by a few ounces of some foul-tasting water. The scouts navigated without the help of moonlight. They ran through thickets and across fields as if guided by an inner compass. Loner was no stranger to the woods; he had spent most of his life hunting and trapping animals as far from the human settlements as he could get. He winced as another burning pain came from the bottom of his foot. Yes, he would most likely do the same. If they had been in his forest, he would be the one dragging them through it.
“I need to take off my boot,” he said.
The scouts ignored his comment and kept their pace, stepping over felled trees and under the low-hanging branches.
“Give me two minutes. I simply want to shift my stocking.”
One of the Cygoa scouts appeared on his left. The man leaned in, and Loner could smell onions and meat on his breath.
“We are not stopping,” he whispered into Loner’s ear before falling back with the rest.
Loner looked up, but the sky had been smothered by the thick trees. Occasionally, he caught a glimpse of a patch of sky with a single star flickering in it. He could not see enough to determine where they were or in which direction they were headed. The Cygoa scouts could not have been that clever. They had to have been following a path they’d trodden before.
One of the scouts coughed, and Loner heard a glob of phlegm hit the ground. This was one of the few noises the men had made during their march through the woods. It almost distracted him and kept him from hearing the other noises in the distance. Loner turned his nose up and caught a whiff of campfire smoke.
“Are we almost to camp?” He asked the question but did not expect a response.
“Yes. Your arrangements have already been made.”
The words came from behind, and Loner was sure it was the first time this scout had spoken since they found him. Maybe he had been in charge the entire time, leading through quiet example.
“One misstep or stumble, and we will sever your head from your neck.”
The pressure on his wrists lessened as the rope fell away. Loner massaged his left arm with his right hand, keeping his head focused in the direction they were walking, unwilling to risk turning around just yet.
As if commanded by the magic of a high priest, the trees fell away. The scouts who had been behind Loner passed him as they approached the camp checkpoint. Towering oaks bordered the field, as if the Cygoa had intentionally planted them to create a protective barrier. Two guards stood before a gate, and several fires glowed within the camp. Once Loner was sure there were no scouts behind him, he turned his head and glanced back in the direction they had come. He was unable to see a gap in the trees. Even if he could outrun them, he would have no idea where h
e was going—but they would.
“He needs to see Carlossa.”
The guard looked at the scout and then to Loner. The man spat and then chuckled before responding.
“He’ll have the army here at daybreak.”
The scout winked and then nodded at the guard. He turned to Loner. “In the meantime, we will keep you safe for your meeting tomorrow.”
Loner felt a nudge in the middle of his back that started him walking into the camp. Two of the scouts walked with him, one on each side. Both men carried battle axes. They escorted him toward a single-story structure in the middle of the field. The door was shut, but light flickered through the open windows. As they got closer, Loner saw chairs sitting around the table and a hammock fastened to one corner of the room. The guards made a sharp left and walked Loner around the outside of the building and farther into the field.