by Roger Taylor
‘Sorry about that,’ he said frankly. ‘But I didn’t want us to be caught in the open with them perhaps holding the high ground. We’ll rest a little while if you like, before we go on to the river.’
‘Is there any way we can watch the col as we travel?’ Hyrald asked.
‘No. Not now. Not unless you want to climb a tree every few minutes. I’m afraid that while they can’t see us, we can’t see them – whether they’re getting nearer, falling back, or even following us at all.’
‘We’ll press on to the river, then,’ Hyrald concluded. He turned to Thyrn. ‘You still want to go back to Arvenshelm? Forget about going north?’ he asked bluntly.
‘Yes,’ came an equally blunt reply.
An inquiring glance sought the views of Rhavvan and Adren.
‘Thyrn summarized it well enough,’ Adren said. ‘I can’t say I’m looking forward to it but, on the whole, I’d rather deal with trouble here than in some other country.’ Rhavvan just nodded.
Finally, Hyrald turned to Endryk. There was a grimness in their guide’s face that none of them had seen before as he replied. ‘I’m not Arvens, and I’ve little interest in the affairs of your country. But I’ve lived here a long time and lived the way I wanted to, and to that extent I’m in your debt. And it was an Arvenstaat man who helped me when I needed it most.’
‘I won’t argue debts with you, Endryk,’ Hyrald said. ‘We can’t begin to repay what we owe you.’
Endryk gently dismissed the acknowledgement. He spoke haltingly. ‘I’m not sure that I’m ready to go back home yet. I’ve no idea what will be there now. The war was over when I left, but the life I enjoyed – we all enjoyed – was destroyed. I lost some good friends. I don’t know what to do.’
It distressed Hyrald to see Endryk’s quietly assured manner racked thus, but he could say nothing. Abruptly, Endryk’s face cleared. He looked surprised. ‘Just speaking the words,’ he said, though more to himself than the others. ‘We slid into war because we each of us lived our “good” lives – turned away from petty injustice after petty injustice.’ He looked at Rhavvan. ‘Underestimated the effect of small actions – didn’t see the harm that was being done because it happened slowly, quietly, piece by piece. Until suddenly there was a monster devouring our society from within and there were no acceptable choices left.’ He closed his eyes. ‘All that’s needed for evil to prevail is for good men to do nothing, as they say. We all know that, don’t we? Well, not again, not here – not anywhere where I can see it happening.’ Opening his eyes he looked at the others one at a time. ‘To do nothing in the face of what’s happened to you will be a betrayal of far more than yourselves. You’re without acceptable choices now. I’ll come with you if I may. Help you find justice before injustice overwhelms everyone. Maybe then I can go home.’
The relief of the whole party was almost palpable, but Hyrald felt the need to press him. ‘You’re sure about this?’ he asked soberly. ‘This isn’t your problem and you’ve…’
‘Yes it is.’ Endryk cut across him. ‘It’s…’
He stopped suddenly and held up his hand.
Into the silence came the distant sound of a raucous voice shouting commands.
Chapter 13
Though it was not possible to hear what was being shouted, the harshness in the distant voice told Hyrald and the others about the nature of the men following them more vividly than any amount of speculation.
‘It doesn’t sound as if they’ve come to bring us good news,’ Adren said to Nordath, who nodded unhappily.
Endryk looked round quickly then dismounted and ran across to a tall tree, signalling Rhavvan to follow.
‘Help me,’ he said, pointing to the lowest branch. It was well above his head but with his foot supported in Rhavvan’s cupped hands he managed to swing up and catch it. The others stared after him as he began clambering upwards. They remained thus even when he had disappeared. More shouting drifted to them as they waited.
He was not gone for long. ‘Wardens, I think – uniformed anyway,’ he said as he dropped back down. His face was flushed. ‘I never did like climbing trees,’ he grumbled, wiping his hands irritably. ‘They’re mounted and riding fast. Too fast for this country, I’d judge. And I have to agree with Adren – they look more like a hunting party than a rescue team.’
‘How many of them are there?’ Hyrald asked fearfully.
‘About ten.’
‘Ten?’ Hyrald echoed in disbelief.
‘That I could see,’ Endryk confirmed. ‘The view wasn’t ideal and they were milling about our camp site.’
‘How would they know we’ve come this way?’ Rhavvan asked.
‘Maybe they met Oudrence and he told them. He knew we were going to go west,’ Nordath offered.
‘More likely it was the same way as those who found you on the shore,’ Endryk said. ‘I told you, you must have left a trail across the country like a haycart – I’m sure you could’ve followed it in their position.’
Rhavvan was more injured than indignant at this reminder of their wild northward dash. ‘But we’ve been careful since we left your cottage.’
‘True. But, as I said, people are out of place here. Our passage makes a disturbance that’s virtually impossible to disguise.’
‘It’s irrelevant anyway,’ Hyrald said, ending the debate. ‘They might just have worked it out for themselves that the only way we could go was west.’ He swore under his breath and put his hand to his head. ‘The point is, they’re here. We can’t risk meeting them until we know for sure whether they’re friend or enemy, though how we’re going to find that out I don’t know. It seems to me the only alternatives we have are to hide or outrun them.’ He looked at Endryk. ‘I know it’s a long time since you’ve been here, but you still know this country better than any of us. Have you any suggestions?’
‘We’ll have to do a little of both,’ Endryk replied. ‘Just hiding a group this size around here is problematical to say the least, and if we run for it, that’ll tell them exactly where we are. Also we’ve no idea about the condition of their horses. I can only imagine that to be riding the way they are, they’ve got reserve mounts somewhere. They could be very fresh.’
‘And with a larger party behind them,’ Rhavvan added.
‘Quite possibly.’
‘I’d like to see who it is,’ Rhavvan said menacingly.
‘So would we all,’ Hyrald agreed. ‘But we can’t afford the luxury of getting close to them. What do you mean we’ll have to do a little of both?’ he asked Endryk.
‘We’ll keep on towards the river, find a good place to change direction, then leave signs to keep them heading north while we turn west and move slowly and quietly.’
Hyrald looked doubtful. The faint shouting reached them again.
‘Do it,’ he said.
Endryk spoke softly. ‘You know now how sound can travel out here so make sure all your tackle is well muffled,’ he said. ‘And no talking unless it’s essential – and I mean essential. And then confine yourselves to whispers. Keep strict single file. Keep your eyes and ears wide open – particularly your ears. I know it’s not easy, but stay as relaxed as you can. Rhavvan, you listen well – take the rearguard.’
Rich forest scents pervaded the procession as it moved silently through the trees. Dancing sunlight dappled over and around them, endlessly shifting and changing, and the air was filled with birdsong and the gentle discourse of the leaves as they swayed to the touch of a scarcely felt breeze. To less troubled minds, the scene would have been idyllic, but the riders were prey and could know no tranquillity until they were free from the fear of their predator.
Thyrn, in his new secret role as protector of his protector and conspirator with Endryk, seemed to be the most at ease, though perhaps more by virtue of his youth than any deeper wisdom. The three Wardens were noticeably on edge. It was against their nature and training to retreat from threat and they were filled with too many questions. Further, having
instincts that were tuned to the sights, scents and dangers of the city, everything about this place served to distract and disturb them so that the heightened awareness that circumstances had given them served not to clarify but to add only fretful confusion. Rhavvan, whose hearing had saved him more than once in Arvenshelm’s darker places, found the constant noise particularly troubling and he kept stopping, his head cocked on one side and his eyes half closed as he sought amid it for sounds of pursuit. Nals came and went to needs of his own, frequently bolting off into the undergrowth.
After a while Endryk halted them. He dismounted and gently moved some hanging branches to one side. He studied the area beyond them then pointed. ‘Wait over there,’ he said. ‘I’ll lay a trail towards the river. I won’t be long.’ Nor was he, though to the waiting group his absence seemed much longer than it was. It made Hyrald, in particular, feel acutely aware of his inadequacy as their leader in their present position and he was openly relieved when Endryk returned. He then spent some time carefully removing all signs of their change of direction, finally adjusting the hanging branches. Rhavvan watched him with an expression that gradually changed from impatience to grudging respect. Then Endryk was silently directing them to move off again.
Their uneasy journey continued. At their head, though he gave no further orders, Endryk’s presence continued to forbid all sound, and cautioned them against the distracting lure of the sunlit calm of the woods despite the absence of any sign of pursuit. Even Nals was quieter now, spending most of the time loping soberly alongside Endryk.
Eventually they came to a break in the trees. Endryk halted some way from the edge. ‘Stay in single file,’ he whispered. Ahead of them was an expanse of open ground filled with tall ferns. It sloped downwards to the right. Beyond it lay more trees. They were darker and less inviting than those they were presently sheltering under, but still more welcome than the ground they would have to pass over. Endryk dismounted and moved forward a little way. The river could be seen at the bottom of the slope.
He was frowning when he returned. Everyone leaned forward as he spoke, very softly. ‘We’ve no choice but to cross this and to cross it slowly. There’s no saying what the ground’s like under these ferns, but there’ll certainly be streams and wet rocks. We can’t risk hurting the horses by hurrying. We also can’t do anything about the tracks we’ll leave. We’ll just have to hope the false trail was good enough and that they don’t come this way.’
As they emerged into the clearing, each of them in turn looked upwards at the bright blue sky and the still passing army of white clouds. After the comforting shelter of the trees, they felt very exposed. For Rhavvan, the troublesome noise of the trees was replaced by the equally troublesome noise of the distant river.
It needed no sensitive hearing however, to hear the cry that rang out when they were about halfway across. It tore through their studied silence, jolting them with its harshness. Thyrn let out a brief cry. Rhavvan swore. A group of riders was moving along the river bank. One of them was pointing and, after the briefest of pauses, they were drawing swords and urging their horses up the slope.
Rhavvan’s lip curled. ‘Well, that’s clear enough, drawing on us, like the others. Without even a word of challenge.’
Then his eyes blazed and his hand went to his own sword. However, even as he did so, the reality of his position came to him: there were at least seven riders in the charging group. He released his sword and began to urge his horse forward towards shelter. The others were doing the same but Endryk held out a restraining hand. ‘No! Keep walking, slowly!’ he said powerfully. ‘Let them charge uphill and take their chance in this terrain. We’re nearly across. We can run when the horses can see where they’re going.’
As he spoke, one of the advancing horses went down, throwing its rider. Some of the others stopped to help their comrade but three of them continued their headlong dash.
Still observing Endryk’s injunction to walk quietly Rhavvan took his long staff and held it discreetly on the far side of his horse. He nearly collided with Hyrald, who had stopped suddenly.
‘Carry on,’ Hyrald said urgently, motioning him to move past.
‘But…’
‘Don’t argue. Go! I’ll be with you in a moment.’
As soon as Rhavvan had passed him, Hyrald stood in his stirrups and pointed at the approaching riders.
‘You there, halt!’ he bellowed. ‘What the devil do you think you’re playing at?’
The command and the rebuke were forceful enough to make two of the riders falter. The third, however, continued. Very leisurely, and indicating extreme irritation, Hyrald turned his horse as though to descend to meet them. ‘Are you deaf, you oaf?’ he bellowed again. ‘I said, halt!’ The third rider, realizing suddenly that he was alone now, faltered in his turn. Hyrald pressed his advantage. ‘You’ve got a man down! You know your duty – what kind of Wardens are you? Go and see if he’s all right. Then all of you get back up here. I’ll need to hear a damned good explanation of your disgraceful conduct if you’re not to end up on charges.’ He turned his horse away again and with a final, ‘Now! Move!’ that actually made the lone rider swing his horse about, he resumed his easy walk across the clearing. Rhavvan had stopped at the edge of the trees and was turning to meet him. Hyrald discreetly urged him back.
‘I can’t believe you did that,’ the big man said when Hyrald reached him.
‘I’ve been wanting to do it since this began,’ Hyrald snarled. ‘At least we know we’re not dealing with the brightest. Let’s move, it’s only gained us seconds.’
It took them a little while to catch up with Endryk and the others who were already riding as fast as the ground and their ability would allow. It was soon apparent that it was the latter that was the greatest problem. The three Wardens were not particularly good riders and Nordath and Thyrn, riding on one horse, were severely handicapped. Endryk assessed the situation with a single backward glance. Slowing down, but without stopping, he moved alongside Nordath and Thyrn and with a combination of encouragement and cajoling managed to transfer the older man to his own horse. Then he swung over to sit behind Thyrn and with a cry to Nordath of, ‘Just hang on,’ he took both sets of reins and spurred his horse to a fast canter.
Though Endryk did not seem to be suffering, it was a difficult, bone-jarring ride for the rest of them. Hyrald managed to pull alongside him. ‘We can’t go on for long like this,’ he gasped. ‘Nordath can’t take much more and Thyrn doesn’t look…’
He stopped. Endryk’s expression was frightening.
The sound of their pursuers could now be clearly heard, harsh and triumphant.
‘The intention of these people is murderous?’ Endryk asked starkly.
Hyrald’s reply was pained. ‘They look like Wardens but they’ve drawn on us without any form of challenge like those on the shore. It’s not done. The Death Cry’s still in place. Yes, they’re murderous.’
‘Bad odds, Warden,’ Endryk said. ‘But no choice.’ He shouted to the others. ‘We’re going to have to stand. On my command, dismount and prepare to deal with whoever comes first.’
‘Dismount?’ Hyrald exclaimed.
‘Horses are no advantage in this space. Especially for you. Do as I say.’
Even as he was speaking he was reaching round Thyrn and drawing the youth’s knife from his belt. He pushed it into his startled hand. ‘Keep this out of sight but if anyone gets too close and you can’t run, lunge.’ He thrust Thyrn’s hand out by way of demonstration. ‘To whatever part of them’s nearest – throat, face, anything. Don’t look into their eyes, you’ll hesitate and get yourself killed. Keep stabbing until you’re safe.’
Thyrn stiffened. ‘I can’t do that.’
‘You can, you will! You’ll have no choice if it happens. And you must protect your uncle as well as yourself. When we stop, help him down, and keep the horses together.’ He tightened his grip to emphasize the urgency of his words. ‘This is a bad lesson for you, Ca
ddoran, but learn it well and learn it quickly. You’re here through no fault of your own and you’re entitled to survive. Do you understand? You’re entitled to survive! Where we are now, everything is that simple.’
Endryk’s tone allowed no debate as he pushed the knife back into Thyrn’s belt.
Hyrald glanced quickly over his shoulder. Their pursuers were in sight.
Endryk was shouting. ‘Now!’
As he swung off his horse, Endryk took Thyrn with him, thrust both sets of reins into his shaking hands and pushed him towards his uncle with a final command, ‘Your uncle and the horses.’
Thyrn was vaguely aware of catching Nordath as he slid from Endryk’s horse and shouting, ‘Get the horses,’ at him. Then everything was confusion and terror – a mosaic of sounds and images that moved at once with desperate slowness and violent, jerking, speed.
There was Nals, blurred and leaping, teeth fearsome.
And Endryk, eyes both frightening and frightened, drawing his bow.
It creaked deafeningly…
Bending the fabric of everything around it…
And the echoing, echoing, wind-rush of a flying arrow…
It struck the horse of the leading pursuer. Hooves flailed and a high-pitched scream filled Thyrn’s mind as the animal reared, white-eyed, unseating its rider and bringing down another.
Swords and staves were rising and falling…
The scream of the horse became a wavering background to a tangled cacophony of fury and terror.
A second arrow struck a rider…
Something twisted deep in Thyrn, a re-shaping, a re-ordering. The sound of the arrow’s flight swelled to overtop everything else. It stretched giddily backwards from its fateful strike to the very creaking of the bow.
Wrong…
Wrong way…
But it was the way it was.
It was the sound of a black sword falling through the darkness between…
Falling?
No…
Yes…
But from when to when?