Blood in Snow: (The Riddle in Stone Series - Book Three)

Home > Other > Blood in Snow: (The Riddle in Stone Series - Book Three) > Page 7
Blood in Snow: (The Riddle in Stone Series - Book Three) Page 7

by Evert, Robert


  “Me too. And I only had a cart!”

  That’ll slow them down then.

  Still, they’ll be here in ten days. Two weeks at most …

  We can’t do much in ten days.

  No, but we can slow them down even further. Maybe …

  “Have an idea?” Abby asked hopefully. She sat nearby on a bench, sipping hot spiced cider. Much to Edmund’s annoyance, Merek stood behind her, massaging her shoulders with his muscular hands.

  Edmund again surveyed the crowd.

  They were a motley group. Some were former soldiers, experienced in battle. Others were farmers wanting their own land. Most, however, were unskilled laborers simply hoping not to starve.

  Edmund considered his options. He could field maybe a hundred warriors at most, and few of them had armor.

  A hundred versus a thousand.

  At the very least, we can buy time and make Lionel’s forces pay for coming here. Hit-and-run skirmishes, in and out of the forests. That might reduce their numbers.

  Buy time …

  Edmund inhaled deeply, smelling the anxious sweat of the townsfolk crowded together in the common room.

  “Okay,” he told them, “this is what we’re going to do …”

  PART TWO

  Chapter Nine

  Edmund and a score of Rood’s most battle-hardened men crouched behind some evergreens along the steep hills that pushed up against the River Bygwen. A mile downriver, a band of King Lionel’s scouts approached, horses stumbling up the rocky path that eventually led to Rood’s west gate. Between the hills to Edmund’s right, Pond, Abby, and Becky sat in a wagon, waiting for the signal.

  Hendrick tensed, bow at the ready.

  “Patience,” Edmund whispered to him.

  “What if this doesn’t work?” one of the guards asked.

  “It will,” Edmund replied, though he wasn’t sure he believed it himself. “Don’t underestimate Mr. Pond. But if it doesn’t work, you know what to do.” His own grip tightened around the hilt of his black-bladed short sword. “Hush. They’re getting closer.”

  He gestured to Pond.

  Down in the wagon, Pond snapped the reins. His team of horses pulled the wagon out from between the hills and along the riverbank.

  The wagon lurched onto the snow-and-leaf-covered path, headed southward, bumping over rocks toward the band of knights. Immediately the knights called them to a halt. Pond reined in his horses directly below Edmund and the guards of Rood hidden among the trees.

  “Who are you?” the lead knight shouted to Pond and Abby. “And whom do you serve?”

  “I’m … Mr. … Horgenswagle,” Pond called back.

  Hidden behind a bush, Edmund clapped his hand to his forehead and groaned.

  “And we serve King Lionel.” Then Pond added, “Or at least we serve him as much as a lowly traveling merchant and his beautiful wife can serve His Royal Highness.”

  Come on, Pond! Don’t blow this!

  “Splendid!” The lead knight checked his horse in front of their wagon. “Splendid, indeed!”

  Becky bared her teeth, growling, but stopped when Abby stroked her head.

  The other knights gathered around, but wedged between the steep forested slopes and the icy waters of the River Bygwen, they didn’t have much room to maneuver, especially if they tried to pass Pond’s wagon.

  “Well then, my good man,” the lead knight continued with a cautious eye on Becky. “You may indeed serve His Majesty if you would be so kind as to give us some information.”

  Stray snowflakes floated from the sky. The knights watched them with obvious apprehension.

  “My wife and I would be more than happy to help in any way we can,” Pond replied.

  Come on, Pond. Don’t be so stiff. Act like a traveling merchant!

  “Then tell us—where are we? Our maps of this region appear to be outdated. There’s supposed to be a road following this river.”

  “Where’re you trying to go?” Pond asked in forced puzzlement.

  “We are searching for the chief city in this region,” the lead knight replied. “It’s called Rood, I believe.”

  Pond laughed loudly.

  Pond! What are you doing? Act more naturally!

  “Rood!” Pond said with even more theatrical laughter. “Why, you are horribly lost!”

  At this, an irritated Abby quickly took over.

  “I’m so sorry, my lord.” She curtsied slightly to the knights. “What my husband is trying to say is we believe you are following the wrong river.”

  “The wrong river?” the lead knight repeated in dismay. His company complained and muttered, breath puffing in the cold air. “Is this not the River Bygwen?”

  Pond opened his mouth, but Abby shushed him.

  “No, my lord. You’re a bit off your mark, I’m afraid.”

  Grumbling intensified.

  “That would explain why there isn’t a road here,” one of the knights said to their leader. “Least ways, one that isn’t overgrown with trees.”

  “Damn our lack of preparations!” another knight said, fists clenched. Then, noticing Abby’s discomfort, he bowed in his saddle. “Pardon me, my lady. We’ve been riding without proper maps or guidance for several weeks now, and my frustration got the better of my judgment. Please forgive my language.”

  “Your frustration is understandable, my lords,” Abby replied. “There aren’t many roads this far north. It is quite easy to get lost amongst these hills and lakes.”

  “And this blasted snow doesn’t help either.” A third knight swatted at the falling flakes as if they were flies. “We can’t tell if we’re following a road or a deer path!”

  “I dare say, we’ll see a good deal more if we don’t resolve this business quickly,” a fourth said. “I hear it gets as high as a man’s head in these parts.”

  The lead knight lifted a hand, gesturing for his comrades to calm themselves.

  “Fair lady.” His horse pawed at the snow covering the rocks. “Could you or your husband please help us correct our error? Where is this Rood? Have you been there?”

  “Yes, my lord. My husband and I left there five days ago.”

  The knight’s murmurs turned more agreeable.

  “Five days,” the lead knight said, delighted. “Well, that is good tidings, indeed! We’d feared we were lost well beyond that. So, if you are able, please tell us: how do we reach the city?”

  “Of course, my lord,” Abby said. “If you take the path we were following, it’ll lead you right there.”

  The knights fidgeted.

  “Forgive me, my lady,” the lead knight said. “But we can’t see any paths under these leaves and snow. Perhaps you can tell us some landmarks by which we may steer?”

  “Oh!” Abby said with an embarrassed giggle. “Yes. Yes, of course. I’m terribly sorry. How stupid of me.”

  “Not at all.” The knight smiled.

  “Yes, well, if you turn right here …” Abby pointed to the gap between the hills from which Pond had driven the wagon. “And you go straight eastward …”

  The knights peered in that direction. Edmund and the guards ducked behind the brush.

  “… you’ll eventually come to the River Bygwen. If you follow it north toward the mountains, you’ll reach the city. At the river, you’ll see signs. The road to Rood is well marked.”

  One of the knights clasped his hands together, then raised them to the grey sky. “At last! I thought we’d never find the accursed place.”

  “Please, my lady,” the lead knight continued. “I have one more question, if you don’t mind.”

  “I’m only happy to help.”

  “Very good. Now, we have a rather large party coming up from the south—fifty wagons in all.”

  “Fifty wagons!” Abby gasped.

  Up the slope, Edmund cursed to himself.

  Fifty wagons! They’re more prepared for winter
than we are.

  So much for your asinine plan.

  “Yes, my lady,” the lead knight said, “and we require a large enough area to bivouac them.”

  “Well, if you go east about a day’s ride”—Abby pointed eastward—“you’ll come to a meadow along a large lake. The meadow is rolling but flat enough for wagons, and the surrounding hills will shield you from the northern winds.”

  “You know what bivouac means?” one knight said, surprised.

  Abby stammered, giggled again, and looked nervously at Pond.

  “She reads!” Pond blurted out.

  The knights seemed even more impressed.

  “A traveling merchant with a wife who can read?”

  “And what does she read that includes military terminology?” the knight behind their leader said suspiciously.

  Uh-oh!

  Abby’s forced laugh was much too long. “Oh, he’s just joking. Why would a woman need to read?”

  At this, the knights laughed as well.

  “No, my lord.” She fanned her face, though it was cold enough for thin layers of ice to form on the river. “I simply guessed what you meant. Given what you’d been saying about wagons and such, I merely thought you’d need some place to stop and camp. The valley to the east should suit you. But I’m no expert on such matters, of course.”

  Many of the knights seemed to ponder this, though two surveyed the hills as if danger might be near.

  “That should do wonderfully.” The lead knight bowed to Abby. “Fair lady, thank you very much for your assistance in this matter.” He pulled a small pouch from his pocket and drew closer to the wagon, hand outstretched. “Please accept this as a humble offering of thanks for your guid—”

  Becky leapt up and snarled.

  The knight froze.

  The others drew their weapons.

  “Becky!” Abby admonished, stroking the dog’s large head. “Becky, be good! These men are lords! They won’t hurt us.”

  Becky sat but continued to snarl quietly at the lead knight. More than one in the company had drawn a bow.

  Abby quickly took the pouch.

  “Thank you kindly, my lord!”

  “Actually, my lady”—he backed his horse away from the wagon—“I’m a mere knight doing the bidding of His Highness, King Lionel. You may call me Sir James.”

  He bowed again.

  Then, eyeing Becky, he said, “That’s a fine animal you have there. She could bring down a horse if she had the mind.”

  Abby giggled, not really knowing what to say.

  “What kind of beast is she?” asked Sir James.

  “She’s a … a …” Pond stammered, “a grey wolf!”

  “A grey wolf?” Sir James repeated doubtfully. “I have never seen a wolf that large.”

  “We bought her as a puppy years ago,” Pond explained. “She’s a fierce and loyal guard dog!” He tried to laugh.

  “I’m sure she is,” Sir James said. “You’re fortunate to have such a beast. If you breed her, her offspring would bring a high price in Eryn Mas. Indeed, I would pay handsomely for any males of her line.”

  “Hear that, sweetie?” Pond said to Abby, voice high and strained. “I told you we’ll be wealthy some day!”

  Sir James inspected Becky from a distance for a moment longer, then turned to his company.

  “Thomas, you and Arthur go east and find this valley. Prepare it for our arrival. We’ll need firewood in the plenty. Nights in these lands are cold, and the cooks will need fires for their tasks. We’ll also need corrals for the horses. We will return south and inform His Majesty.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Two knights began edging past Pond’s wagon, weapons in hand in case Becky lunged. Sir James bowed again at Pond and Abby. “Thank you again for your assistance. I will tell His Majesty of your loyalty, Mr. Horgenswagle.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Pond said. “May we go?”

  “Yes. Yes, of course. Please.” The rest of the knights made a lane for the wagon to pass through. “By all means. We will be heading the same way; however, we cannot tarry. Please forgive us for not offering you company on your journey.”

  “Thank you, sirs!” Pond cracked the reins. The horses began to pull the wagon southward. “Pleasure meeting you! Good luck with—”

  Abby shushed him. “Thank you, sirs! And thank you very much for the coins.”

  “My pleasure.” Sir James watched them bump along the overgrown path … then something seemed to occur to him.

  “Half a moment,” he called.

  Pond reined the horses to a stop.

  “Why are you headed south this way if the road from Rood is five days to the east?”

  Oh no!

  Next to Edmund, Hendrick drew back his bowstring.

  “Why didn’t you head south along the River Bygwen?” Sir James asked, puzzled.

  Pond and Abby exchanged anxious glances.

  “Because …” Abby began, panic in her face.

  “Because,” Pond said, “I’d … I’d like to move up here. We’re looking for a plot of land.” He gave an embarrassed shrug. “We’re hoping to make a fortune raising sheep!”

  “Sheep?” Sir James scanned the forested hills. Several times he glanced right past the bush behind which Edmund knelt.

  Stay calm. Stay … calm.

  “I suppose they would do better here than cattle,” Sir James said after a moment. “Although I cannot promise anything, I’ll request that His Highness grant you a parcel of land to help repay you for your assistance.”

  “Oh!” Abby laughed. “That’s not necessary!”

  “But it is, my lady. Without you, our entire army would be bumbling around these hills, unaware that we were in the wrong location.”

  One of the three remaining knights looked up into the trees where Edmund and the guards crouched, hidden. Suddenly he pointed up at them.

  Hendrick nearly stood up and loosed his arrow, but Edmund clutched his shoulder.

  “Sir!” The knight gasped. “Look at the size of that stag!”

  On a high ridge behind Edmund, a red deer the size of a horse pushed through the underbrush and trees crowning the hill, the spread of its antlers as wide as a man’s outstretched arms. The four knights watched it.

  “Yes.” Sir James smiled. “This truly is a wondrous place. Perhaps when all of this is over, we can request leave to hunt in these hills. There’s rumor of bears here twice as large as any we have to the south. Some are completely white.”

  “Perhaps His Majesty will appoint us to garrison this region,” one of the knights said.

  “Perhaps.”

  For many uncomfortable minutes, Edmund held his breath while the knights stared just past him and his men, watching the deer meander along the hill’s crest until it disappeared from view.

  “Very well,” Sir James said. “Let us return to our task. Mr. and Mrs. Horgenswagle, it’s been a pleasure!”

  With that, the knights heel-tapped their horses and began cantering southward along the river.

  Chapter Ten

  “All right!” Edmund yelled, trying to end the quarrel between Abby and Pond. “Let’s not discuss it anymore! It went well enough. Hopefully the King will steer eastward toward the R-River Celerin. That should buy us a week or so, maybe more.”

  He rubbed at his temples.

  “Here.” Vin plopped a stein in front of him. “This will help. Trust me.” He patted Edmund’s back.

  Edmund took the stein filled with a hot spiced wine garnished with raisins and nuts. It smelled like cinnamon. He took a sip.

  Oh! Incredible.

  “Good, eh?” Vin said. “What did I tell you? It’ll make you forget the cold, if you know what I’m saying.” He winked. “I’ll have enough for everybody in a few days.”

  Edmund nodded, took several more drinks, and reluctantly placed the stein on the table around which he, Pond, Abby, Hen
drick, Bain, and a few others sat. He looked at them each in turn. Apprehension colored their faces, but Edmund could sense they weren’t ready to give in yet. Rood and their freedom were too precious.

  “So what now, sir?” Hendrick asked.

  “Well,” Edmund sighed, “my initial plan was to stall, t-t-to, to keep, to keep avoiding conflict or a siege until winter set in.”

  “I thought winter had set in,” Bain said.

  Edmund took another drink and shook his aching head. Everybody around the table wore whatever thick woolen coats they’d managed to find. He still wore a light cloak.

  “This is autumn. Winter won’t officially begin for another month. Around that time, it’ll get colder—much colder. There’ll be several feet of snow on the ground before long. I was hoping to use that against the King’s army.”

  “How long,” Hendrick asked, “before it gets really miserable?”

  Edmund gazed out The Buxom Barmaid’s window. The sky was a clear blue, but the town square was empty; most of the townsfolk were indoors. He feared the noise from their working might attract attention. Besides, many of the settlers weren’t used to temperatures that could freeze water. They all huddled in the various barracks, trying to keep warm, which was difficult since they didn’t have heavy clothing and Edmund wouldn’t allow them to have a fire.

  It’s not going to snow for days.

  Yes, but it’s getting colder.

  Not cold enough.

  “I don’t know,” he said eventually.

  “Why not attack their supplies?” Abby asked, still furious with Pond.

  Everybody stared into their mugs.

  “I mean”—she glanced around the table—“if we get to those wagons, they’ll have to withdraw south to get more supplies, right? By then, the weather will play to our advantage.”

  “The wagons will be guarded,” Pond said.

  “Of course they will!” Abby sneered at him. “Did you think they’d just leave them lying about?” She turned back to everyone else. “Still, if we can get to their supplies, they’ll have to go home, right? Or at least go somewhere to get more. That’s at least a month’s ride away.”

 

‹ Prev