He tentatively tried to move it and found he could lift it without any discomfort. Ellen had done a good job, as usual. “It feels good, though I need to try putting weight on it. Please have the wagon pull over.”
Sam tried to persuade him to wait, but he would not listen, so she spoke to Seth, who was driving. The wagon slowed to a stop and Brin climbed out. His leg held, but he almost ended up on the floor anyway as he went dizzy with the pain the movement caused in his head. “Can’t you do something?” Sam called out to Nosmas as she caught the collapsing elf.
“I did tell you he would have a headache when he awoke,” the wizard informed her unsympathetically.
“This is almost worse than having the knife in my leg,” Brin hissed at him.
“Let this be a lesson to you, my friend,” Nosmas told him. “Next time Ellen tells you to drink something, obey her.”
Brin bared his teeth at him and growled. Ellen rode up and handed over a flask. “Try this,” she suggested, “then get back in the cart. It will not help much, but it will take the edge off until we stop and I can brew a proper pain killer.” Brin removed the stopper with his teeth, dropping it into his hand before taking a gulp. He immediately spat it out.
“That is disgusting,” he complained. “I would rather live with the pain.”
“Well I wouldn’t,” Sam snapped at him. “I don’t care what it tastes like. Just drink it and then get back into the wagon.” Brin knew better than to argue and took another mouthful, swallowing it before it hit his taste buds. That did not help. He could not supress a shudder as the desire to vomit surged through him. Somehow he managed to overcome it and climbed back into the wagon. Sam was sitting down, so he lay with his head in her lap and she began to gently caress his head. It did not reduce the pain, but felt good and he fell asleep once more with a smile on his face.
When they stopped again a short time later to rest the horses, Sam gently shook him awake. He opened his eyes and instantly regretted doing so. The pain was even worse than before. It did not take Ellen long to create a concoction that would help and Brin gulped it down the moment it was handed to him. It was fast acting and by the time Tor ordered them to start moving again, Brin was feeling well enough to ride his horse.
They continued travelling until the first rays of light could be seen on the horizon. Hawk acted as lookout from above, constantly checking the way ahead was clear and no sign of ambush could be found, but this had to stop once daylight appeared. Tor decided to stop early, so they set up camp as soon as a suitable place could be found. For once, they did not stop close to trees, preferring to be out in the open where there was little chance of anyone being able to sneak up on them.
Brin’s headache had returned, but he kept this to himself, not wishing to appear weak. It was only the fact that he winced slightly whenever anyone spoke too loud that gave him away. Sam noticed and ordered him to try to sleep instead of taking the first watch.
It was approaching midday when it was time for Sam and Brin to take over from Patrick and Ellen, but Brin had slept fitfully, so Patrick decided to wake Nosmas and Quartilla instead. A couple of hours later, everyone was woken by Grimmel screaming out in agony. He was sitting on the ground, rocking backwards and forwards, his hand over one of his ears. The men, who had all been sleeping with their weapons beside them, armed themselves and looked around for an enemy, fearing they were under attack, but none could be seen.
Ellen ran to the Dwarf’s side and forced his hand away from his face. Blood was trickling out of his ear and down into his beard, but no wound could be seen.
“What happened?” she asked him.
“I do not know,” he gasped. “All I can tell you is that I was suddenly awoken by a sharp pain in my ear as though someone was pushing a red hot poker through it.” He looked at her, his face filled with panic. “I cannot hear properly any more. I am half deaf.”
Ellen ran some basic tests and ascertained that he was, indeed, completely deaf in one ear, though the other appeared to be unaffected. The bleeding soon stopped and the pain reduced a little. She still had some of the potion she had given to Brin, so she retrieved it from the wagon and suggested Grimmel finish it. Unlike Brin, he did as he was told and drank it down.
Once he was sleeping peacefully once more, Grimmel was placed in the wagon and covered with a cloak.
“What do you think it is?” Tor asked. “Could this be the work of the assassin?”
“I do not think so,” she replied. “I have my suspicions, but do not want to say anything to anyone in case I am wrong.”
“Is it that bad?” Tor asked in a light tone of voice, smirking at her.
“It could be.” The smile dropped from his face when he realised she was serious.
Nizari, too, had heard Grimmel’s scream. He had been following them as close as he had dared, riding while they slept and sleeping while they rode, and always keeping an eye out for the vampire who seemed to constantly be watching for him during the hours of darkness. Numerous times he thought he had been spotted, but so far he had been lucky. He avoided the open road as much as possible and made sure his quarry never got too far ahead of him.
He knew where they were headed, but had yet to devise a new plan for getting rid of them, so he was content to follow, at least for now. He was not sure why Tor was going to visit his brother, but was confident that was their intended destination. Now that the Prince knew what he looked like, perhaps he was planning on getting the King to put a price on his head. If this was his intention, Nizari knew he would have to get rid of him before he made it to the castle walls.
While a member of the guild, his work as an assassin had taken him to many places, the current location included. He had travelled this road many times and tried to remember what lay ahead. He closed his eyes, picturing the terrain in his mind. He imagined himself riding along the road, jumping forward in great leaps where there was nothing of significance. He was still a good distance from the boarder, but he knew that he would have to make an attempt to kill Tor and his friends soon.
It would not be long before they reached the grasslands, which offered little cover in which to hide and was full of grazing cattle. A large river flowed through the pastures. He did know the name, but had temporarily forgotten it. It was not important, so he did not dwell on it. The river was fast flowing and could only be crossed at the bridges, which were far from where his quarry would meet it if they continued to follow the road. They would have to follow the river either north or south if they wished to reach a bridge, taking them a long way off their intended route, and he had no way of knowing which direction they would choose.
His mind drifted back to the cattle and an idea began to form. The cattle were large and furry and had vicious horns, which they knew how to use. Though usually docile, they were easily frightened and stampedes were not uncommon. If Nizari could do something to make a small number start to run, the entire herd would soon join in. If he timed it right he would have his quarry trapped between the fleeing cattle and the river. Tor and his companions would either drown or be trampled. He knew he would not kill them all like this, but he hoped that there would be serious injuries at least and maybe some of them would die. Smiling to himself, Nizari opened his eyes and went to his horse. All he needed to do now was find a way to scare the animals enough to make them stampede, then wait until his victims were in the right position.
Before they settled down to try to get some more sleep, Ellen took River aside. “I know you are very angry with Grimmel right now, but do you still love him?”
“Of course,” the water sprite replied. “Why do you ask?”
“I need you to do something, but I cannot tell you why.”
“Go on,” River said. She trusted the witch and knew she would not be speaking to her without good reason.
“I need you to watch Grimmel closely whenever he is asleep. You cannot take your eyes off him for one moment. His life may depend on it.” River nodded. Ellen was s
caring her, but she knew better than to ask questions. “Sleep whenever he is awake; he will be in no danger then. Do not tell the others what you are doing,” Ellen instructed.
“What am I watching out for?” River asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“If my suspicions are correct, you will know when you see it. Hopefully I am wrong and there will be no need to keep him under observation after a few days. Now go and get into the back of the wagon.”
River did as instructed and placed herself beside Grimmel, just behind Hawk’s coffin. A few hours later, Grimmel awoke once more. His head still hurt, but it had turned into a dull ache rather than intense pain so he declined Ellen’s offer of delaying their departure for a while so she could concoct another potion. As soon as he moved forward onto the seat, positioning himself next to Seth, River took his place in the back of the wagon and tried to get to sleep.
“What is wrong with her?” Grimmel asked Seth, pointing over his shoulder at the sprite.
“I have no idea,” Seth told him. “But I do not think she has slept much. Maybe you should ask Ellen.”
The lady in question was within earshot, so he called to her. She smiled at him when he asked the question. “I have told her that you might have something serious wrong with you so she should keep an eye on you whenever you are asleep.” The dwarf eyed her suspiciously. “It will give her something to worry about other than how much you have hurt her.”
Grimmel was not sure whether to thank her or be insulted, so he did not comment. He could still hear nothing through one of his ears, so he wiggled his finger in it, but this had no effect. “Is there something wrong with me?” he eventually asked.
“Of course not,” Ellen said lightly, then rode ahead so he could not question her further. Patrick had been close enough to hear the exchange and rode after her. He knew her well enough to know when she was lying.
“What is wrong with him?” he asked her once he knew nobody could overhear.
“I may be wrong, so I do not want to talk about it,” she informed him. Patrick knew she would not tell him more until she was sure, so he did not press her.
Brin rode up. His head was still uncomfortable, but he was well enough to be on horseback so he had refused to ride in the wagon. “Can you smell that?” he asked, sniffing the air.
Ellen and Patrick both mimicked him. “I cannot smell anything,” Ellen told him and Patrick agreed with her, so Brin rode back to Seth and asked the same question.
“Smoke,” the young man said and he called Tor over. “Anything to worry about?” Seth asked the Prince once he confirmed that he could also smell the smoke.
“I am not sure,” he admitted. “I do not think there are any dwellings close by and the weather is too warm for a fire to be lit.”
Brin had his head cocked to one side as though listening to something. “We may have a big problem,” he said. “I can hear something approaching, fast.”
“Someone on horseback?” the Prince enquired.
Brin shook his head. “It could be hoof beats, but there is definitely a lot more than one.”
The colour drained from Tor’s face as he realised what it was that the elf could hear. “Stampede,” he shouted out. “Everyone ride as fast as you can.” He yelled at his horse to gallop and was soon at the front of the line, leading the way.
“What is the problem?” Brin asked Seth. “Surely they will just go around us.” Seth shook his head. “Just how many animals are we talking about?” Brin continued.
Seth looked as worried as Tor when he answered.
“Thousands.”
Chapter 12
The assassin smiled as he watched his foes galloping away. While they had been sleeping, he had been preparing fuel for a fire, spreading it out over a large area. When he judged the time right, he lit it and watched it quickly spread. It had worked better than expected. The grass was dry and also caught light, terrifying the cattle and driving them towards Tor and his friends.
At the speed they were travelling, it would not take them long to reach the river and realise they were trapped. The positioning was perfect as northwards it twisted around, making them head back towards the stampeding animals if they chose to follow the river’s course. They did not realise it yet, but fires had also been lit to the south and another giant herd was running towards them, cutting off their escape.
He remounted his horse and rode after the fleeing animals, wanting to witness the carnage. The fire was already dying down, so he was not worried about being caught in an inferno.
The wagon was slowing them down. He had expected them to abandon it, but then he remembered that the vampire was still in his coffin and they would not leave him behind to be trampled to death. The distance between the wagon and the riders was growing until, unexpectedly, the assassin saw one of the horses turn around and ride back. The water sprite jumped from the back of the wagon and was caught by the rider. ‘Obviously concerned for her own safety,’ Nizari thought to himself.
It was Brin who had ridden back, having heard River call out. “We are approaching a river,” she whispered into his ear once she was safely seated behind him. “I can smell it. Get me there as fast as you can.” He did not waste time asking why, instead he encouraged his horse to increase speed and soon they had overtaken Tor.
They reached the riverbank ahead of the others and River slid off the horse before it had completely stopped. She sat down next to the water and started to sing. Brin stared in amazement as the water stopped flowing, as though an invisible damn had been erected in the blink of an eye. The water was held back on one side of the imaginary barrier and flowed freely on the other, leaving a damp but passable riverbed behind.
Brin did not need to be told what to do. Glancing behind to make sure Sam was close by, he urged his horse into what used to be a river. By the time he reached the other side, others had arrived and were following him. His horse struggled up the bank and he dismounted as soon as he was clear, urging those who followed to make haste.
Everyone was across by the time the wagon arrived, except for Tor, who would wait until the wagon was safely on the other side before forcing River to cross with him. She was still singing and would continue to do so until they were all safe. The horse pulling the wagon could hear the approaching cattle and did not hesitate in descending down the bank. It went at such great speed that Seth was worried that they would tip over, but somehow the wagon stayed upright. It was not until they reached the other bank that Seth realised that the horse was cleverer than he was. It knew they would need speed in order to climb the far bank and they managed it on the first attempt.
As soon as the wagon was safely on dry ground, Tor took River’s hand and pulled her onto his horse. They soon re-joined their friends and River stopped singing. Instantly the invisible barrier broke and the water began to flow once more.
From their position of safety, everyone watched the approaching cattle. The forerunners skidded to a halt when they saw the water and those following turned to head north or south. One failed to stop in time, fell into the river and was swept away.
The onlookers remained where they were, witnessing hundreds and hundreds of animals running towards them then changing course when they reached the water’s edge. Nosmas was the first to notice those approaching from the south and swore loudly.
“We would have been dead if we had been caught in the middle of that,” he said as they watched the mayhem on the other side of the river.
“I think that was the idea,” Patrick remarked dryly.
“You saved all of our lives,” Grimmel told River and hugged her tightly. She momentarily hugged him back before pushing him away.
“I guess that makes us even,” she informed him.
Tor turned his attention to the other side of the river. The cattle were beginning to disperse, heading north, and he could just make out a lone figure riding forwards. “I think our assassin is approaching,” he said.
All eyes turned t
o where he was looking as the figure emerged through the dust caused by the fleeing cattle. “He does not seem happy,” Seth observed.
The man continued to approach until he was directly opposite; the only thing separating them was the fast flowing river.
“How?” he called out. He had not witnessed what River had done so was completely baffled as to how they were now on the opposite bank.
“We have our talents,” Tor called back.
“Unlike you,” Patrick shouted out, unable to resist goading his enemy.
“My apologies for not managing to kill you yet,” Nizari shouted back to him. “I am used to individual assassinations, not mass murder. It looks like I need to find new tactics or split you up and dispose of you all one at a time.”
“Good luck with that,” Ellen said and threw a fire ball at him. It did no more than make him lean out of its way, but it made her feel better.
Tor gave the order to move out and they all turned their backs on the assassin. “I will get you all eventually,” he yelled after them, but nobody bothered to look back.
As he watched them disappear from sight, Nizari pondered his situation. It would take him many days to reach one of the bridges then double back once he was on the other side of the river bank, so continuing to follow his targets was no longer an option. However, he knew where they were headed, so finding them again would not be difficult. Splitting them up would be harder though. Whistling to himself, he ordered his horse to turn north and he rode off at a fast pace.
Just before the sun set, Tor called for a halt. Hawk would be awakening at any moment and he wanted to give him full details of what had happened. Seth announced he was hungry. They had not had breakfast when they first awoke, deciding to travel for a while first, then the flight across the river had taken all thought of food from their minds. Fire wood was gathered and Seth set about cooking a quick meal. He informed Tor that their supplies were beginning to run low and the Prince promised to reprovision at the next opportunity.
The Assassin Page 13