by Sam Ferguson
The pounding hooves came ever closer, but Jonathan kept his eyes on the tree. Once or twice he glanced at the camp, seeing that a couple of men had come out from around one of the large tents. He waved out to them and called for help, but he didn’t slow to see if they had heard him. He continued for the tree. The three men were in heavy armor. They wouldn’t be able to climb after him if he could just reach the elm.
As he got closer to the elm tree, Jonathan could hear the panting breath of the horses behind him over the thundering hooves. He glanced over his shoulder just enough to see the riders gaining on him. A large hand stretched out for his back.
Jonathan reacted on impulse rather than reason, stopping suddenly and ducking low to the ground. The closing fingers tugged at his hair, but couldn’t catch hold on the boy. The horsemen sped by and Jonathan was unharmed.
The riders both turned to the left, slowing their horses down enough to take another run at him.
Jonathan bolted forward, dashing in close to the riders. The closest rider, the archer with the now defunct bow, reached out with both his leg and arm trying to stop Jonathan, but the young boy cut out to the side. The other rider had a hard time maneuvering his horse around the first, and Jonathan was able to reach the tree. He launched upward, grabbing a branch and pulling himself up. He squirreled up the tree before either rider reached the base of the trunk.
When the men got to the tree, Jonathan fired a warning shot into the ground.
“Go away, or the next one goes into your head!” Jonathan shouted in a shaky voice. He looked over toward the camp and saw a group of several men rushing out toward him. If these were bandits, they would retreat as soon as they noticed the soldiers coming their way.
Jonathan nocked another arrow and pulled the string halfway, keeping watch on the two men below. One of them circled around the tree and grabbed at a low-hanging branch. Jonathan fired an arrow that stuck into the bough just half an inch away from the man’s hand.
“I don’t have to miss,” Jonathan said. “Go away!”
The two men looked off in the direction of the oncoming soldiers and said something between themselves that Jonathan couldn’t hear. Jonathan’s confidence left him though, for the two men did not leave. They moved a few yards away from the tree and then waited patiently.
The third man was now coming over the knoll on horseback, riding at a steady trot toward them as well. Jonathan looked back to the other soldiers and he felt a terrible fear grip his heart as he realized he had just assaulted real soldiers. His mind whirled for an escape plan, but no coherent plans came to him.
Soon he heard the galloping hooves of another man on horse. Jonathan looked down. The first thing he noticed was the flowing red cape billowing out behind the rider. The new arrival talked with the other three and then turned his horse to walk it to the tree. A golden brooch secured the cloak over a set of plate mail armor. The man held a gleaming helmet in his lap and his sword hung freely from his right hip. He looked up and waved at Jonathan.
“Hello to the tree,” the man called out. “I am Captain Burke, of the King’s army.” Jonathan froze as he looked down to Burke’s face. The man smiled back from behind his thick, brown beard and placed his hands atop the saddle horn. “I don’t suppose you would like to come down, would you?”
Jonathan shook his head and glanced to the first three men he had met. If they were all good soldiers, then why would they have treated him so meanly?
Captain Burke gestured to the nearby branch with the arrow in it. “My men say you tried to attack them, is that so?”
Jonathan shook his head again. “They came after me, I was only defending myself.” Jonathan looked down to the arrow shaft embedded in the elm bough. “I missed on purpose. I just wanted them to leave me alone.”
“He lies!” shouted the archer on horseback. “He fired right at me, he just missed, and that’s all.”
“He fired at me too,” the swordsman said. “I managed to block it with my sword, but he was aiming for my face.”
Jonathan shouted at the men angrily. “I hit exactly what I was aiming for. I cut your bowstring with one shot.” Jonathan then pointed to the swordsman. “If I wanted to hit your face, I would have.”
Captain Burke and several of the others gathering around started to laugh.
“It’s true,” Jonathan insisted. “I can prove it too!”
Captain Burke held his hand out to silence the others. “Why did you fire at them, to defend yourself you say?”
Jonathan nodded. “That one took his sword out and was running toward me. The one with the bow nocked an arrow and was ready to shoot me. All I was doing was walking the road.”
Burke nodded. “And where exactly are you headed?”
“To the Murkle Quags,” Jonathan said proudly. The men erupted with laughter. Jonathan scanned their many faces and his anger burned within his heart. “I am going to the Murkle Quags!” Jonathan shouted, but his protest only drew more laughter.
After a few moments, Captain Burke wiped a tear from his eye and held his hands out to the side as he looked up at Jonathan. “And why, pray tell, is a boy like you going alone to the Murkle Quags?”
Jonathan grabbed his bow and dropped down, hopping from branch to branch until he vaulted to the ground beside Captain Burke. His eyes locked with Burke’s blue orbs and he puffed his chest out as he stood upright before the captain. “Because my brother is there, and I am going to find him.”
The laughter stopped. Captain Burke’s smile faded and he stared at Jonathan for a short while with searching eyes. Then, he pointed to Jonathan’s bow. “You say you cut my man’s string with a single shot. Can you prove it?”
“Why should I?” Jonathan asked defiantly.
Captain Burke glanced over his shoulder and thumbed at the three soldiers that had started the whole mess. “Because it will show whether you were being generous or not.”
Jonathan looked over to the archer and then nodded assuredly. “Put another bow at forty yards, and I will show you what I can do.”
“Have him hit a man’s sword too, while you’re at it,” the swordsman suggested as the three soldiers chuckled amongst themselves.
Jonathan pointed to the swordsman. “Hold your sword up and I will hit it as well.”
The swordsman stopped laughing. His face turned hard and he clenched his jaw.
“A good idea,” Burke said. “Bring me a bow.” One of the soldiers from the camp brought a long bow. Captain Burke pointed to the archer on horseback. “Have him hold it.” The officer then looked down to Jonathan. “Alright, kid, you have two shots. Make them count.”
The swordsman stood on foot again and held his sword up, but this time he also grabbed his shield and covered his chest, neck, and head with it. The others moved aside to give the boy some space. Jonathan whipped his bow around and in less than a second he fired the weapon. The arrow ricocheted off the sword an instant later, creating a ringing sound that kept all of the soldiers in attendance quiet. Next, the archer held his bow out to the side while two others moved in with large tower shields to protect both the archer and the horse.
“The shields aren’t necessary,” Jonathan said. “I won’t miss.” He nocked another arrow and pulled it back to the corner of his mouth. He let it loose a second later and the longbow snapped straight as the string was cut in half. A low murmur rippled through the gathered soldiers.
Captain Burke laughed and slapped his leg. “Everyone back to your tents. You three, back out on the road, but do be a bit nicer if you happen to find someone wandering the road alone from now on.”
The group of soldiers from the camp started laughing. The other three turned and went back out to the road, but not before each of them shot Jonathan a terribly menacing look that nearly froze his blood.
“Don’t let them bother you,” Burke said. “They’re a bit sore that a kid bested them, but they’ll get over it.”
Jonathan put his bow away and nodded.
“Now what is this business about the Quags?” Burke asked.
Jonathan shrugged. “My brother was sent out with the Ghosts of the Quags before Battlegrym fell. Everyone says he is dead, but I know he is alive. I have to find him.”
Burke’s face grew grim and he set his hands back on the saddle horn as he bent forward and shifted his position. “I’m sure you have heard it before, but once someone is assigned to the Ghosts of the Quags, they don’t come back.”
Jonathan nodded soberly. “Then my brother will be the first.”
Burke nodded. “Come, let me offer you a place to sleep for the night. You don’t want to travel after dark out here.”
“The trolls aren’t this far north,” Jonathan said quickly.
Burke shook his head. “Trolls no, but bandits are. That’s why we are here. We patrol the roads, making a triangle from Lehemet up to Haytham, then down to Rynder and back to Lehemat. That’s probably why my men were a bit over zealous when they stopped you.”
“They thought I was a bandit?” Jonathan asked incredulously.
Burke grinned from the right side of his mouth. “Well, with aim like yours, I suppose you could make a mean highwayman if the Quags don’t kill you first.” Burke offered his hand to Jonathan. “Come on, I’ll take you back to camp.”
Jonathan took the proffered hand and leapt atop the chestnut horse. They rode back to camp, arriving ahead of the others walking back. There were three rows of six tents stretching out in front of one large canvas tent. Smaller fires dotted the ground as some of the soldiers began cooking their supper. Captain Burke and Jonathan dismounted in front of the large tent and a young man of maybe twenty came out to take the horse away.
Burke gestured to the open flap and Jonathan went inside. It was a spacious room, with a small wooden table set up in the center, and a map atop it. There was no bed, just a roll of furs with a blanket and pillow on the pile. A large leather bag sat next to the bed.
“It isn’t much, but it will keep the wind off your back,” Burke said. “Have you a blanket?”
Jonathan shook his head. “I have an over cloak in my field pack. That is enough.”
Burke shook his head and went to his bed. He pulled a large black fur out from the pile and shook it out. Dust and bits of fur flew off and the map on the table rustled, then Burke set the fur down a few feet away from his bed. He then went back and pulled a doeskin from the pile and set it atop the black fur.
“Thank you,” Jonathan offered when he understood that Burke was making a bed for him.
“So, how will you get into the quags?” Burke asked. “Surely you know that the king has ordered a wall be built to keep the swamps out.”
Jonathan nodded and moved to the map on the table. “I was going to go to Fort Sym.”
“Why?” Burke pressed.
“To see if someone there could tell me where Jason went.”
“Jason?”
Jonathan nodded. “Jason Haymaker,” Jonathan replied. “He’s my older brother.”
Burke chuckled to himself. “I should have known from the way you used your bow,” he said. “I met Jason.”
“You did?” Jonathan asked as his eyes shot wide and his voice rose in pitch with excitement.
“Oh yes, you don’t forget a man like that!” Burke shook his head and moved over to stand on the opposite side of the map. “Never met a Haymaker anyone could forget, actually.” Burke caught Jonathan’s questioning look. “I know of your grandfather, and while I never met your father, I heard good things about him as well. I imagine Jason is no different.” Burke paused and smiled as he reflected on it. “I tried to recruit him myself, you see. I needed a scout at the time, and he was more than the perfect candidate.” Burke shrugged and leaned on the table. “I guess that’s what Captain Ziegler thought as well,” he added. “He was always headed straight to the Ghosts of the Quags. There was no two ways about it. Though, if he had his choice, I bet he would have gone anyway.”
“He would have,” Jonathan confirmed.
“Sounds like adventure runs in your blood, boy.” Burke shook a finger at Jonathan and then pointed to Battlegrym on the map. “I don’t know that I should tell you this, but if you can make it to Battlegrym, you just might be able to figure out where he went.” Burke sighed then and shook his head as he pushed away from the table. “My conscience is going to make me remind you that he is most probably dead, though. If you go after him, you would be lucky to see so much as his body before your own death. Why not go home?”
“No, he is out there. I have to find him.”
“If you are bent on fighting, stay with me. There are bandits enough on the roads that you might see some action.”
Jonathan shook his head. “I’m not fighting for the king,” he said flatly. “I am fighting for my brother.”
Burke frowned and turned toward his bed. He walked over and set his helmet atop the pile and unclasped his red cloak. “Well, perhaps we could help each other,” Burke suggested. “You could scout ahead for me, and in return I will let you accompany us to Rynder.”
“I can move faster alone,” Jonathan pointed out. “I can provide well enough for myself.”
Burke spun on his heels and shook his head. “No, I think you misunderstand. I am not so much offering the arrangement as I am ordering it. If you reject the idea, then I will have your three friends take you home.”
“You can’t do that,” Jonathan said. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I could put you in the stockades in Rynder, or I could haul you to Lehemat. Assaulting the king’s men is a crime.”
“But I didn’t, you know I didn’t!”
Burke shrugged. “It would be very easy for me to claim otherwise.”
“But you saw that I missed them on purpose. I showed you.”
“If you want your freedom, then you must earn it. Scout for me until we arrive in Rynder. Then, you will be free to leave.”
“What is in this for you?” Jonathan asked. “Surely you already have scouts.”
Burke dropped his cloak onto his bedroll and marched over to Jonathan. He bent low and poked a strong finger in Jonathan’s chest. “I like you. You have a wild spirit in you, but I am afraid it will get you killed. If you scout for me, then it gives me time to talk you out of this foolish death wish of yours. No one survives the Murkle Quags.”
“But you just said that if I can make it to Battlegrym, I might be able to find my brother!” Jonathan backed up, rubbing the sore spot on his chest.
Burke nodded. “And so you might, but I also said you would find your own death. Give me three days to change your mind. If we make it to Rynder and you still want to go, then I will let you go. But, if you refuse my deal, or if you try to escape early, I will hunt you down and bring you to the stockades.”
Jonathan stood stunned. What could he do but say yes? Burke extended his right hand. Jonathan took it and the two shook.
“Good,” Burke said as he stood back upright. “Do you have any food?”
Jonathan nodded and pointed to his field pack. “I have a couple loaves of bread in my pack,” he said. Burke moved to the field pack and rifled through it despite Jonathan trying to squirm away in protest.
“We all pool our resources together,” Burke said as he took the bread. He broke off a third of one loaf and handed it to Jonathan. “You want to see what war is like, here you go.” Burke then exited the tent, called out a couple of names, and gave the rest of the bread away. He reentered the tent and pointed to the furs he had given Jonathan. “Eat and then go to sleep. You will go out with the first shift of scouts. They leave before dawn.”
Jonathan stared angrily at Burke, but the large man didn’t seem to notice. He moved toward his bedroll and removed his armor, revealing padded leather armor underneath, which he also removed. After he was wearing normal clothes he left the tent, making sure to untie and close the flap behind him.
The inside of the tent went dark and Jonathan moved
to sit upon the furs Burke had given him. As he ate his bread, he could hear Burke ordering others to stand guard around the tent and ensure that Jonathan didn’t leave. Heavy footsteps stomped into place. Jonathan counted five men. Two in the back of the tent, one on either side, and one near the flap.
Now he was cursing himself for traveling south. Being found by Pa would have been much easier to deal with than this. Now he was a prisoner, jailed by the very soldiers he had wanted so badly to enlist with. His mind went back to that day when he and Pa were tied up and put into the barn. It seemed it was becoming a common theme with soldiers. Jonathan would have to keep that in mind before he dealt with any more of them after this was over.
He finished his bread and then laid down, thinking of how he could possibly escape. No plan he thought of seemed like it would realistically work. Unless he were to steal a horse, they could always outrun him. Even if he had a horse, he wasn’t really that good with them. They had a plough horse back home, but Jonathan had never actually ridden a horse more than two or three times. Using one to escape from veteran patrolmen would be foolish. His best bet was to finish the scouting duty that Burke wanted.
Even if it slowed him down, it wouldn’t dissuade him from finding Jason. If Burke decided to break their deal when they arrived in Rynder, then Jonathan could escape there, where there would be more places to hide and a thicker forest he could disappear in.
Chapter 7
A heavy, broad-toed boot kicked Jonathan in the back long before he was ready to wake up. His eyes slowly peeled open, but he couldn’t see for the darkness all around him. Another kick of the boot and Jonathan squirmed out of his bedroll.
“Get up,” a voice growled in the darkness.
It wasn’t Burke, Jonathan knew that much. Burke’s voice was much lower, and nowhere near as nasal as the man kicking and ordering him around now. Jonathan jumped up to his feet. The man in the tent pulled on his arm and yanked him outside.