by AC Cobble
Shortly, he found Anne and the others just barely waking in a rough camp behind a tangle of fallen trees. The empath gave him a curt nod, and Cinda exclaimed, “Good, you made it!”
“I did, and now it’s best we’re away,” advised Rew. “There is a score of Duke Eeron’s men back in the village, and they’ll be waking soon. It won’t be hard for them to find us if they put any effort into it.”
“Do you think they’ll do that?” wondered Zaine. “Raif said they recognized him, but…”
Rew, looking over his shoulder the way they’d come, said, “Yes, they will search for us. They were headed to Falvar, but the man had a picture of Raif and Cinda on him. It’s not the city they want. Come on. A child could follow the trail you left last night.”
Standing in a clatter of rustling metal, Raif asked, “Do we run, or do we fight?”
Rew blinked at the boy. “Where did you get that?”
“Get what?” replied Raif.
“You’re wearing armor,” said Rew, gesturing at the boy. Raif wore articulated, steel pauldrons with an iron-studded brigandine underneath, gauntlets, and leather-covered greaves. Steel plates covered his thighs, but he wore no helmet. It was entirely ridiculous attire to be trooping stealthily through the forest while Duke Eeron’s soldiers chased them. “Where did you get armor?”
“I snatched it on our way out of the village,” said the boy, shifting the steel plates on his shoulders. “Left some coin behind to pay for it. Figured I might need the protection. It fits well enough, though I do regret sleeping in it.”
Rew rubbed his face, considered arguing with the young noble about it, but decided it’d take the boy half an hour to remove all of that steel, and they didn’t have time.
“We head due west and then we’ll curve south. We can stay within the forest until we get close to the Spine. Once we’re outside the city, we’ll find this thieves’ gate Zaine spoke of.”
“Won’t traveling through the forest delay us?” argued Cinda. “We don’t know how much time Father has until… until something bad happens.”
“If Alsayer wanted the baron dead, he would have killed him in Falvar,” stated Rew. “No, we’ll—What was that?” The ranger looked around and then gestured frantically. He whispered, “Move, move, but quiet.”
They started off quickly but not at all quietly.
Rew led them deeper into the forest with a creeping sense of dread crawling up his back. He’d heard something, and it hadn’t been an animal. Someone else was out there in the forest. Was it one of Duke Eeron’s scouts? If so, why weren’t they under attack? If a scout had found them and had gone back to get reinforcements, Rew thought he would have heard that. The bandits Rodger had warned him about? Vyar Grund? But the ranger commandant wouldn’t hesitate if he’d found them; he’d certainly attack. Who else could it be? What were they waiting on?
Behind him, the rest of their party came along, sounding like a peddler’s cart trundling over a rickety, iron bridge. Cinda’s robes kept snagging on branches and bushes; Raif banged against tree trucks like the clanging of pots. Rew was pretty sure Anne and Zaine were making their share of noise as well, but it was difficult to tell with the racket the other two caused. If someone was out there, they’d have no trouble hearing where the party was walking. Rew kept them moving, kept them going for half an hour, until he saw a small clearing and a little hillock. The hairs on his neck were standing up.
Someone was following them. A dozen people, more? It was difficult to tell. They kept behind the trees several hundred paces away, but Rew had no doubt they were out there. And whoever it was, they were skilled in the woods. Rew had the uncomfortable feeling that the only reason their hidden followers had not shown themselves was because the party was walking exactly where their pursuers wanted them to go. It wasn’t the Duke’s men, he decided, but he didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Bandits wouldn’t drive them deep into the forest just to question them.
“There,” he said, “get up on that hill and put your backs to each other.”
“What?” asked Raif.
“Get ready for a fight,” instructed Rew.
That shut the boy up, and the group assembled on the short, grassy hill.
“Fight what?” wondered Zaine, drawing an arrow and nocking it.
“Wait,” said Rew.
He could hear them now. Not just a few followers, but several. More than a dozen. They were still out of sight, but he sensed that the party was being encircled. He still had no idea who it might be.
After a moment, Cinda whispered, “What are we waiting for?”
“Them,” said Rew. He drew his longsword and gestured at the cluster of cloaked men who were appearing from behind trees and surrounding them.
“W-Who…?” stammered Zaine.
“Draw your weapons,” hissed Rew.
She raised her bow. Raif unslung his greatsword from his back. Cinda raised her arms, and her hands began to crackle with pale blue light. Even Anne held her belt knife.
The men surrounding them were covered in dark cloaks and had hoods over their faces, but they all held bare swords and axes that left little question about their intentions. The men moved closer, creating a tight circle around the party. Rew studied them, searching for weaknesses in their line or some clue as to who they were. Subconsciously, he sized up their foes and decided which were most likely to fall back if he charged, but then, Rew grimaced. He couldn’t simply charge out and attack. If he did, he’d have a chance of breaking out of the circle and escaping into the thick woods, but Anne and the children would never make it.
There were no bows or crossbows facing them thankfully, but there were at least thirty of the cowled figures surrounding them. Too many, if they knew the use of their weapons.
“What do you want?” Rew called.
“Just the children,” said a woman, stepping to the front and pushing back her hood. Dappled sunlight sparkled on sharp steel that adorned the woman’s leather bracers. From the end of the bracers, gleaming claws rested on her wrists. Rew had seen the like in the south and knew with a twist, those claws would slide out and extend past her knuckles. The sides of the woman’s head were shaved, and the rest of her blonde hair was bound into a tail at the back of her head. On her bare scalp, he saw intricate, blue tattoos scrawled over her ears. He’d seen tattoos like that before as well, but not in the south, he didn’t think. He didn’t have time to consider it.
“Mistress Clae,” hissed Zaine.
The woman’s head tilted. “Yes, though few know that name. Who are you?”
“If you don’t know who we are,” muttered Rew, “why do you want the children?”
“I know those two,” said the woman, gesturing with her clawed wrist at Raif and Cinda. “I don’t care who the rest of you are.”
“Perhaps we should, Mistress,” mumbled a man near her.
The woman glanced at him.
“That’s the King’s Ranger, Mistress.”
“Is he?” said Mistress Clae, turning to study Rew. “What are you doing here, Ranger?”
“Everyone asks that,” complained Rew under his breath. Louder, he said, “I’m an agent of the king, and I’m allowed to leave the territory, you know. As an agent of the king, I ask that you step aside and stop interfering with my travel.”
“Allowed to leave your territory, certainly, but that doesn’t mean you’re allowed in my territory,” declared the woman with a wink, “and unfortunately, I’ve already fallen afoul of the king’s law. It pains me, but I don’t think the old chap is going to forgive me even if I do spare his appointed ranger. My target isn’t you, though, so give us the children and be on your way.”
“I can’t do that,” said Rew.
“There’s no reason for violence,” claimed the woman. She tapped her lips with one finger, putting her claws dangerously close to her nose. “I have no quarrel with the king or his ranger. What if I paid you for those two? We have gold, and if you tw
ist my arm, perhaps an enchanted artifact or two that one such as you might make use of.”
“These children are my responsibility,” said Rew, shaking his head. “If you mean to take them, you’ll have to kill me first.”
He felt Anne shifting at his back, and he wanted to turn and scowl at her, but the tattooed woman held his attention.
“Very well,” said Mistress Clae.
“You’ll have to do it quick, too,” said Rew, raising his voice to be sure all of Mistress Clae’s men could hear him. “Duke Eeron’s soldiers should be here soon enough.”
“What?” asked the woman, laughing at the claim. “That’s a ridiculous ploy, Ranger. Surely you can—“
“Mistress,” called another of the men.
She turned to the speaker, glaring at him.
“I hear horses,” claimed the man. “When I left Umdrac to report last night, I saw some of the duke’s soldiers enter the village…”
“Stay here!” shouted Rew to his companions. Then he charged off the knoll, headed directly for Mistress Clae.
She shook her arms, and three claws extended from each of her bracers. Rew swung a wheeling slash at her face. The woman brought up her claws, deflecting the blow, and then attempted to strike at him with her other hand, as he’d anticipated. Rew stepped in and grabbed her wrist. He twisted it, spinning her until her back was to him. Then, he began dragging her back to the knoll, his longsword in front of her, poised to drag across her throat.
Her men had been rushing him but pulled up in skidding stops.
“Stay back!” warned Rew.
“Rew,” shouted Zaine from the knoll. “I hear the horses too!”
“Stay back!” cried Rew again, moving his longsword closer to Mistress Clae’s neck to slow her men who’d started advancing again. Calling over his shoulder, Rew said, “When Duke Eeron’s men come into the clearing, no matter what happens, stay on my heels.”
“Wait, the duke’s men really are in the forest?” snapped Mistress Clae, suddenly ceasing her struggles. “Why are—“
“There!” barked one of her thugs.
Crashing through the trees, a trio of mounted soldiers burst into view.
“Attack them!” demanded Mistress Clae.
Rew spun her around and drew back the fist holding his longsword, intending to smash her in the face and knock her out, but the woman allowed herself to tumble away, rolling clear of him. Mistress Clae’s men, thinking there were just three of the duke’s soldiers, rushed at the horsemen, swords and axes raised. The soldiers began shouting orders, wheeling their mounts and drawing their blades to slow the attacks. In seconds, more of the ochre-liveried men began appearing through the trees.
“Now we run,” said Rew to his companions.
He led the party down the short hill, smashing his shoulder into one of Mistress Clae’s thugs as he did, tossing the cloaked man back onto his bottom. The clearing exploded in chaos as more of Duke Eeron’s scouts burst into the open space and were engaged by Mistress Clae’s bandits. The two sides, stunned at the presence of the other, were soon fighting tooth and nail in a nasty, bloody brawl.
Mistress Clae started after Rew and the others, but a soldier on horseback came charging across her path, the man swinging a wild blow with his broadsword. She ducked, and while she was down, Rew and his party disappeared into the trees.
The fight had already spun out into the underbrush, and they almost immediately ran into a soldier and a bandit engaged in furious combat, both raining blows against the other, both their weapons fouled by the thick vegetation, neither one able to gain an advantage. Muttering an apology, Rew came in from the side, and with two quick thrusts, he killed them both.
“Hate to do that,” he said over his shoulder, “but we can’t have them telling which way we’re going.”
“Where are we going?” asked Cinda, glancing west where they’d been headed.
“Back to Umdrac, around the back of the place, and onto the water,” said Rew.
“What?” questioned Raif. “How are we going to reach Spinesend on the water?”
“Lad, you’re not getting to Spinesend on the road from Falvar or through these woods, either,” said Rew, looking around cautiously as he found the path Duke Eeron’s soldiers had taken through the forest. Following it, he hoped the crashing of the armored men and their mounts through the brush would leave a confusing enough trail that their party would be impossible to track. “On the highway, we ran into Vyar Grund, one of the most talented rangers in a generation. We’ve seen Duke Eeron’s soldiers, and Mistress Clae—whoever she is. All three groups were independently looking for us, and they all knew we’d be on this road. If we stay on the highway, they’re going to find us again.”
“B-But…” stammered Raif.
“There are too many of them,” said Rew, “and we’ve been lucky to survive as long as we have. In just three days on this road, you’ve been abducted, we’ve had to flee in the middle of the night, and if it wasn’t for two of our hunters running into each other unexpectedly, we’d be… King’s Sake, I don’t even know who Mistress Clae is or what she wanted with you!”
“She’s an affiliate of the Spinesend thieves’ guild,” offered Zaine, “but she’s not much of a thief. I guess you’d call her an assassin.”
“An assassin, see?” replied Rew. He cringed, glancing over his shoulder at the nobles. “An assassin from Spinesend, out here searching for you two?”
“Don’t look at us,” said Cinda. “I’ve never seen her before.”
“Rew is right,” said Anne, her calm voice cutting through the babbling protests of the younglings. “If we continue on the road, we won’t survive the journey. If we don’t survive, your father has no chance. The… what’d you say, Rew, the water? It’s our only hope.”
Rew offered her a curt nod.
“If we can find a suitable vessel,” argued Cinda. “All I saw were river barges. They could catch up to us swimming if we’re in one of those.”
“Barges and the ketch those boatmen hailed you from,” remarked Rew. “Those two looked thirsty enough, so I think there’s a good chance they and their boat are still in Umdrac.”
“Ah,” said Zaine, a grin spreading on her face. “I’m liking the way you think, Ranger.”
“Let’s quiet down,” he told them. “I don’t know how long those two groups will be tangled up behind us, but let’s not make it any easier for them. We can all agree it’s best we get as far away as we can as quickly as we can, right?”
No one disagreed with that, and so wordlessly, they moved through the forest, Rew pushing them along the path the duke’s soldiers had taken, hoping no one was talented enough to follow their trail.
They hiked at a relentless pace for two hours, taking advantage of the path smashed through the forest by Duke Eeron’s scouts and their mounts. When they reached the edge of the wood, Rew called a halt, and the younglings and Anne breathed heavily behind him. He peered between the final branches and tree trunks, over the road, across the grass, at the village of Umdrac.
Without the soldiers, it appeared peaceful, sleepy, as if the events the day before hadn’t happened. Rew tapped his fingers against a tree, thinking.
“We could turn down the road,” suggested Raif. “Those soldiers, if they survive the encounter with the bandits, may be hours behind us. The way between here and Spinesend could be wide open.”
“We don’t know what other watching eyes will be out there waiting,” retorted Rew. “Besides, even if there’s no one else, horsemen will have little difficulty catching us on the highway. It’s days to Spinesend, remember?”
“Could we fight them?” questioned the nobleman.
“I’d rather avoid that,” said Rew. “Fighting men like that isn’t the same as narjags or ayres.”
“They’re bigger, aye, and have armor and better mounts,” said Raif. “I know they will have some skill, but between all of us, if the bandits thinned them out…”
“I meant that killing a man is different than killing a Dark Kind,” said Rew. “It’s not something you want on your conscience.”
“You killed that soldier and bandit when we were escaping,” argued Zaine, “and the thieves when you rescued me. And, ah, the other time you rescued us, too.”
Rew nodded. “I killed them, aye, but I didn’t enjoy it. If we can avoid a fatal encounter with Duke Eeron’s soldiers, we will. Unless anyone has any more objections, we’re going to pass through Umdrac, find the boat Cinda and Zaine’s suitors arrived on, and escape on the water.”
“Suitors?” asked Raif.
“The river flows to Yarrow,” interjected Cinda. “I don’t like it. This entire journey has been about leaving that place. Baron Worgon won’t welcome us back with open arms. Our father is not there, and—“
Rew held up a hand.
“What?” asked Cinda, frowning at him.
“Quiet,” he responded.
“Thunder?” asked Cinda after a moment.
“Marching,” said Raif, his face pale in the afternoon light. He swallowed, the apple in his throat bobbing like a man on a noose. “That’s the sound of men marching. An army of them.”
Rew nodded, peering down the road toward Spinesend.
“They must be headed to Falvar,” said Raif. “We have to go back. We have to warn Commander Broyce and help protect the city.”
“You lost half your soldiers in the scuffle with Alsayer and the Dark Kind,” reminded Rew. “You don’t have the men in Falvar to stand against Duke Eeron if he’s coming in force.”
“We have to do something!” retorted Raif.
“If they’re marching to Falvar, it’s because they’re coming for you and your sister,” said Rew. “The best thing you can do for your people is to not be there when Duke Eeron’s men arrive. Commander Broyce is no fool. If your liege demands to see you, and you’re not there, he’ll show them around and then send them on their way. Broyce will avoid a fight, but he can’t if you’re standing atop the walls.”