by Cheryl Dyson
******
Toryn looked up from the tracks he studied.
“Odd. Another rider joined them here… and then they all turned and headed for that mountain. I thought Ruby was south—which is the direction they traveled, until now. They’ve turned northwest.”
“Suspicious,” Redwing agreed. “We follow?”
Toryn nodded. After following the meandering path with Toryn periodically dismounting to study the tracks, he stated, “The new fellow left them. He went south.”
“How can you tell?”
“Different tracks,” Alyn replied for Toryn, who nodded
“Perhaps he brought a message from Ruby,” he suggested.
“We may be nearing our mark. Let’s keep our eyes open,” Redwing warned. They moved out, staying near the faint trail left by Sellaris and the others. It was still overcast and once again dusk fell early. It was not long before Toryn had to dismount to find the trail. He cursed loudly when a gust of wind blew dirt into his eyes. The trees were thick and provided much of a barrier, but occasionally the wind found an unblocked path and rushed in.
“I’ll lose the track for good before long.”
“Want some help?” Alyn questioned in a teasing tone.
“If you don’t mind,” Toryn replied seriously, much to her obvious amazement. She slid off Fireling and hurried to help him.
Between the two of them, they kept the trail for another half hour before losing it permanently in the darkness. They stopped, but Redwing urged Darkling ahead with a cryptic, “I’ll be right back.”
Toryn and the girls were used to his foibles and only waited patiently for him to return. They heard the unhurried clopping of Darkling’s hoof beats before they saw him.
“I know where they are,” Redwing said. “Let’s go.” To Toryn he sent, //I caught Lavan’s mind; we should be able to find them.//
They followed Redwing's lead until he called a sudden halt.
“Don’t make a sound!” he whispered. A small entourage passed them by, consisting of one mounted man and six men afoot. It was too dark to see them clearly, but Toryn detected the metallic clinking of armor. The party passed close enough that a single cough from anyone would have betrayed them.
“Looks like more people are joining the party,” Redwing said after the men had gone. “I think we should travel on foot from here. It will be quieter.” They dismounted and went on, following Redwing blindly. Toryn snagged a fist in Redwing’s cloak and Shevyn did the same. Alyn stumbled behind them, likely too proud to seek guidance.
Before long, Toryn caught the light of a campfire blinking through distant trees; they moved onward more slowly and cautiously.
//Toryn. There’s a guard,// Redwing sent and gave him a mental map of the man’s location. Toryn nodded and slipped off into the undergrowth. He pinpointed the guard’s location without difficulty and took him down with a silent approach and a quick blow to the back of the head.
Redwing and the others hurried forward.
“Are there any more sentries?” Toryn asked as he bound and gagged the unconscious man with a length of spare leather from his pouch. Redwing shook his head.
“Then they are careless, whoever they are.”
Toryn and the others crept through the underbrush until they had a fair vantage of the small clearing and fire. On the other side stood a wagon, atop which sat two men dressed in Ven-Kerrick black and grey. The sight caused Toryn to pound Redwing’s arm excitedly. Sellaris and the others must have been following one of those damned Ven-Kerrick wagons! The driver must have left the highway long ago in favor of a more direct route to this site, for neither he nor Alyn had spotted wagon tracks on the way.
A large bush blocked much of Toryn’s view, so he moved around it, wary of where he set his feet before he put them down. This close, a snapping twig could give them away. Once around the offending shrub, he could clearly see Sellaris, Lavan, and Garyn. Lavan and Garyn crouched at the fire while Sellaris spoke to a man with blondish hair and beard. He was dressed in dark armor and a long cloak. Beside him stood a dark-haired man in the colors of Ven-Kerrick. Toryn strained to hear what they were saying.
“...do you want here, Keev?” Sellaris asked. She was as beautiful and haughty as Toryn remembered. He glanced at Redwing, who watched her avidly.
“This is my principality, young woman,” said the bearded man. “Who are you to question me?”
Toryn remembered the name, then. Keev, one of the Silveran princes.
“Reed sent me to deliver the artifact,” she said.
“The Voor are coming for it,” Prince Keev snapped.
“I am to escort them,” Sellaris stated with finality. “To see that there is no treachery from them, or from you.”
“Reed does not trust me?”
“Reed does not trust anyone and the Dark Master trusts nothing at all,” she replied.
Keev backed down visibly at that and looked around nervously. “At least let me see the thing,” he snapped. “Is that permitted?”
Sellaris shrugged and nodded before jerking her head in the direction of the wagon. The man in the livery of Ven-Kerrick went to the conveyance and took a small chest from the two men guarding it. He carried it toward the fire and set it down.