Dras hummed to himself for a moment. Oh, them. Yes, I’ve heard of the group you’re looking for. Not two hours ago, one of the brothers came to us looking for shelter. He spoke of trouble in the north, mostly in the northeast. He mentioned a big army man, someone important, said he was camped by the woods around Eaird’vae. He also said there was talk among the Broan Wildlings. ‘The smell was bad,’ he said. ‘Ancient and rancid, like the serpents of old.’ No one believed him, but he was sure the general was waiting for what has come from the east.
Dragons, Mott said. He was talking about the dragons, Dras.
I know he was, Mott.
You know about the dragons?
They flew into the Karan Valley a week ago. Wolves have been fleeing south for the past four days. If your friends are with this general, you will not find many to go after them. Wolves aren’t stupid like humans; we’ll keep out of the way while they fight their battles. Go south for the winter, so to speak.
Mott couldn’t help but growl. You know what is coming, and yet you run!
It is none of our concern; the humans will always have their battles.
The Kel’madden are not humans. Hide or not, they will hunt you down. As for the dragons, you’ll be their prey, living on their territory. They won’t leave you alone, not like the humans have.
The old wolf said nothing, just stared.
Do all the Wildlings feel this way? Do they all want to flee south and wait?
Dras stood and began to pace. Every now and then, he glanced questioningly in Mott’s direction. Mott wondered if he had hit a raw nerve; Dras’s otherwise calm demeanour had cracked; he looked worried.
“No,” Dras said. He actually said it. “No, we don’t all want to run.”
Relief filled Mott’s heart. He closed his eyes and thanked the gods for bringing him to Dras. The old Wildling might just be the answer to his prayers, not just a means of rescuing Elspeth and Gialyn – although that was first on his list – but also a force to fight the invaders. If Aleban had no luck with the locals, then maybe he could bring these Wildlings in on their side. It was a tall order and, right then, it seemed impossible, but it was more than he had an hour ago. And who knew – if Aleban convinced the Darkin, maybe all three clans would join together. No, now you’re just being greedy, Mott.
“In that case,” Mott said, “to hell with going home. Take me to your friends, those that want to fight.”
The old wolf grinned. And the dirty human laughed, but Mott didn’t care. If the Wildlings were looking for a fight, he knew exactly which way to point them.
CHAPTER 14
Fortune Favours
At least they’ve only tied us up, Elspeth thought.
She had expected worse, but as of yet the Salrian hadn’t hurt either her or Gialyn. She didn’t think that would last, though; not after they had found the scrolls Kirin’thar had given them.
She could tell them she was a courier and was just delivering the scroll to Ealdihain. But why would a courier travel through the Am’bieth Marsh? The southern route was safer – everybody knew that. If only the road to Am’ilean had been closer. There wouldn’t have been any Salrians down there.
No, they would not believe she was a courier. Besides, she was sure the scrolls mentioned her and Gialyn by name.
Why did I give them my real name? Fool! And how have they not found the scrolls? They’re right there, in the front pocket of Gialyn’s pack.
Waiting was the worst; waiting and not knowing what might happen to them. She could handle knowing her fate, at least she thought she could, but waiting…
Stubbornly, she pushed the thought away. What use was worrying? They might let them go, maybe. The general’s man seemed friendly enough – apart from the tying her up part. Perhaps their captors thought they were harmless, just two folks in the wrong place at the wrong time. Discovering the scrolls would change all that, though, and it was only a matter of time before that happened. No, she couldn’t ignore it; they had to do something.
It was dark in the tent and smelled of old clothes and newly sawn wood. Stacked crates full of dried food covered half the floor, the Salrians were prepared for a long stay. Elspeth didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. If they moved on, would they take her and Gialyn with them? And what if they stayed, then what? Would the Salrians let them go, knowing she could tell anyone exactly where they were?
“They’re not going to let us go,” she whispered.
“How do you know?”
Elspeth flinched at the sound of Gialyn’s voice. “You could have told me you were awake.”
“I wasn’t, not until you started fidgeting and mumbling to yourself.” Gialyn inched himself around, so he was facing her. “What have you been thinking? Why won’t they let us go? We’re no danger to them.”
Elspeth tsked. “Don’t be a fool, Gialyn. Once they find the scrolls, we will stop being just a couple of outlanders wondering the marsh. We’ll become their enemy; they’ll want to know everything.”
Elspeth let out a long sigh. Become their enemy… Her own words came back to her. They had to free themselves. She tugged at her bindings. Damn the bloody Salrians; I can hardly move, never mind escape.
“Don’t worry, Elspeth. Mott escaped, he will bring help, I’m sure of it.”
Elspeth smiled. She had forgotten about Mott. The idea of staying put suddenly gained merit. It would be just her luck if the general broke camp in the morning; Mott’s rescue party, assuming he would bring one, wouldn’t know where to look. “You’re right, Gialyn. We just need to hold tight and wait. But we have to do something about the scrolls. Can you move at all?”
“A little, why? What do you want me to do?”
“See if you can kick your pack over to me.”
“What if they come back?”
“I don’t think they’re bothered about us, at least not for the moment. You saw the look on that Salrian’s face when we heard that strange flapping sound. He could not have run out of here faster if the tent was on fire.”
Gialyn stared into the darkness. Elspeth had a good Idea what he was thinking: what made that flapping noise?
“It couldn’t have been a dragon,” Elspeth said.
“How do we know? A month ago, I didn’t know there was such a thing as talking wolves.”
Elspeth managed a shrug. She didn’t want to think about dragons, especially if they were working with the Salrians. “The bag?” she asked.
“All right, I’ll try,” he said. “But keep your ears open.”
Gialyn wormed his way slowly across the floor, first scrunching his knees, then extending his shoulders. He hooked the back of his ankles around the strap, then inched his way back, the pack trailing behind.
“Stop!” Elspeth hissed.
The other strap had caught on the table leg. The crate above was inches from falling off.
Gialyn didn’t need telling. He released his hold, then swung his legs over the pack and tried to dislodge the strap from the table leg. It didn’t work. The crate toppled off the table.
Elspeth breathed a sigh of relief when Gialyn cushioned the falling crate with his feet. “Be more careful,” she whispered.
Gialyn winced as he pushed to crate to one side; catching it must have been painful. “I’m doing the best I can, Elspeth.”
“They will hear you if you make any noise,” Elspeth said, then immediately regretting she had.
“Really, I never would have—”
“All right,” Elspeth interrupted. “I’m sorry. I’m just scared.”
There, she said it; she admitted she was scared. He had best not take advantage.
“So am I,” Gialyn answered, his voice was calm and sympathetic.
Elspeth smiled. “Come on. It’s not much further. You almost had it.”
Gialyn had just resumed dragging his pack when Elspeth heard a noise like feet scraping along a dirt track. She shushed him up.
“What is it?” Gialyn asked.
“Calm down, Elspeth. I don’t think the noise is coming from the door.”
He was right; the scraping sound was coming from the back corner. Elspeth laughed quietly. “It’s probably a dog, or a goat.”
She was about to tell Gialyn to continue when the tasselled flap in the corner of the tent swung open and a young man, obviously a Salrian, crawled through the gap. It took a while for Elspeth to recognise who it was.
“What the—”
“Quiet, girl,” Bre’ach grunted. “Do you want to get out of here, or not?”
Elspeth twisted where she lay and stared at the Salrian. “Is this a trick, Bre’ach? Why would you help us?”
Bre’ach looked different; he was not dressed in his armour. He had on a dark shirt and rough linen trousers. He looked more like a poor farmer than a soldier. His bald head had tanned to a dark brown during his time south of An’aird. For the first time, Elspeth noticed his light grey eyes.
Bre’ach let out a long breath. “Well, I could waste time explaining, or we can escape. We only have a few minutes; they are nearly finished.”
“Who are nearly finished? What are you talking about?”
“Gods, girl, we don’t have time for this. Are you coming or not, because I’ll gladly leave without you.”
“My name is Elspeth, not girl,” she said, turning her back so Bre’ach could cut her bindings.
Elspeth thanked Bre’ach. Then gathered her pack, waterskins, and bedroll.
But it was a weapon she was looking for. When Bre’ach had cut Gialyn’s bindings, she pulled one of the knives from her thigh sheath and pointed it at Bre’ach’s neck. “Get down on the ground. Gialyn, tie him up.”
“You fool, girl. You’ll never get out of here without my help.”
“I’ll take my chances, thank you. Gialyn, quickly!”
“No,” Gialyn said. “He’s right; we need him.”
“What!? What are you talking about? it’s his fault we’re in this mess.”
“It’s not his fault, Elspeth. It’s that general’s fault. He wants to get out of here, too. I don’t know why, nor do I care, but three is better than two, and it’s his country. Do you know which way to go?”
Gialyn stood with arms folded, staring at her. “You want to trust him, after all he has done? Gods, he betrayed his own father.”
Gialyn continued to stare. Bre’ach was kneeling on the floor, glancing between them, probably wondering who was going to win their argument.
“I’m not—”
“We need him, Elspeth. We have no food, other than what’s in these boxes – and whatever it is, it smells like dog food. And where do we go? They blindfolded us, remember. We could run off in the wrong direction.”
Elspeth pushed the dagger back into her sheath. “All right, but it’s on your head if he gets us killed…”
Bre’ach got to his feet, and Gialyn picked up his belongings.
Elspeth continued her search.
“What are you looking for?” Gialyn asked.
“Papers. Anything that can prove—”
“This is one of the quartermaster’s tents,” Bre’ach said. “You’ll find no papers here, unless you count blank parchment. Come on, we don’t have time for this.”
Elspeth watched as Bre’ach got to his knees and crawled through the hole in the corner of the tent. “Fine, but you’re not in charge, Bre’ach. I am.”
Bre’ach poked his head back through the hole. “You’ll be in charge of your own funeral if you don’t get your backside out here soon, girl.”
Elspeth thought she heard Gialyn holding back a laugh. Wonderful, two pig-headed men. Maybe I’d be better off staying here.
Once outside, Bre’ach led them north around the back of the long tent. The camp was quiet; nobody was moving about. Faint whispers were all she could hear of the Salrian’s chatter. Something was going on; Elspeth could all but taste the tension in the air. There were no guards, at least not that she could see. They had started in the middle of the Salrian camp, and yet they had managed to skulk into the woods without having to stop.
Bre’ach waved them down. Up ahead, a lone guard stood at his post.
“Now what?” Elspeth asked.
“Wait,” Bre’ach answered.
“Wait for what? Is he off duty soon?”
Bre’ach just shook his head.
The lone guard collapsed in a heap. Elspeth watched as someone dragged the unconscious man into the shadows. So, Bre’ach has a helper.
The unknown Salrian waved them forward.
Elspeth didn’t like it – more Salrians for her to contend with – but she followed as Bre’ach hurried forward.
She waited as the two Salrians put their heads together, whispering. She tried to edge nearer. They saw her move, and Bre’ach waved her back. What do they expect me to do? Follow blindly?
Bre’ach shook hands with the other Salrian. He was an older man, Elspeth could see that much, and like Bre’ach, was dressed in farm clothes. The older man nodded to her and Gialyn, before striding off to the north.
“Where is he going?”
“You know, if I had a crown for every question you asked…” Bre’ach looked annoyed, but he managed a quiet laugh. “He and the others are heading for Barath, they’re going to try and warn the council. It won’t help us, but hopefully they’ll deal with the general.”
Gialyn gave Elspeth an I-told-you-so look. “You see, they are on our side.”
Elspeth ignored him. “What next, Bre’ach? Any more friends?”
Again, she regretted her words. He was helping, and like it or not, they needed him. But what was he up to?
“Follow me,” is all Bre’ach said.
He led them along the outer ring of the camp, over the stream, and up a steep bank. They pushed through a tangled thicket, then stopped at the goat pen.
“Why are we stopping here? South is that way,” Elspeth said, pointing over her right shoulder.
“We’re not going south; the country is too open. We are going east. But first we need to put them off our trail.” Bre’ach handed a small bundle to Gialyn. “There’s one each,” Bre’ach told him. “Put them on and give me your cloak.”
“I don’t have a cloak,” Gialyn answered.
“An old shirt, then. Something that smells like you. You, too, Elspeth.”
“Why are y—”
“Damn it, girl, do you have to question everything?” Bre’ach growled.
“I wouldn’t have to—” Abruptly Elspeth realised she was shouting. “I wouldn’t have to if you would tell us what is going on,” she whispered.
Bre’ach’s shoulders sank. “I’m tying your clothes onto one of the goats and letting it out into the valley. It won’t run far, but they will have to track it through the trees. The trees, Elspeth; the dragon won’t be able to follow.”
“The… dragon?” So, it was a dragon they had heard.
A sudden urge to move faster came over her. She grabbed one of the small bundles from Gialyn, then immediately held it at arms lengths. “Why have the dragons come here?” she asked. “This stinks! What is it?”
“It’s a cloak covered in goat doings. And I don’t know why the dragon is here. Now hurry up. Put it on and give me a piece of your clothing that hasn’t been washed.”
Elspeth thought for a moment. Lanay had washed all of her clothes. All she could spare that smelled of her was her undershirt. She dropped her pack and bow and ducked behind a tree.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m not stripping in front of you, Salrian. I won’t be a minute.”
She heard Bre’ach chuckle to himself. And then Gialyn joined in. Yes, maybe she should stay; take her chances with the general.
Bre’ach took her undershirt, and Gialyn’s black shirt and tied them to the collar of the largest of six goats. H
e led the animal to the edge of the trees and smacked its rear. Elspeth watched as the goat ran down the bank. It stopped halfway.
Bre’ach picked up a stone. “Go on, you stupid…” He threw the rock, and the goat continued into the woods.
“Hopefully, it will go right through and cross the stream. The wood is thicker there; they’ll be hours tracking it.”
Bre’ach turned back to Gialyn. “Come on, put your cloak on, we need to be off. It is dawn in four hours, I want to be the other side of Eaird’vae before the sun comes up.”
“How far is that?” Gialyn asked.
“Not, far, twelve miles. A steady march should do it.”
“A steady march?” Gialyn grumbled. “In the dark? Through a forest?”
“Why don’t we go west?” Elspeth asked. “We need to go home. We have to deli… We have to go home.”
Elspeth cursed herself. She nearly gave it away, nearly told him about the scrolls. What’s wrong with me? First I give them my real name, and now…
“They are patrolling the northern pass. Or hadn’t you noticed? The only way back east is through Arandor, and that’s weeks away. We have no supplies. And very soon, every Salrian for fifty miles is going to be looking in that direction. It’s east or north.”
Damn if the fool wasn’t right. “East,” she said, begrudgingly.
“I’m glad you agree, Elspeth. Come on, follow me.”
Bre’ach turned east and began to march. Elspeth followed Gialyn, trailing in single file. It was dark; the moon was almost new. Maybe she wouldn’t have managed on her own. But she was still angry with Gialyn for coming down on the Salrian’s side. She couldn’t trust Bre’ach. However, it did seem that he wanted to get away as much as she did. Still, in another three days, maybe four, they’ll be clear of An’aird Barath, and could continue on their own.
“How are we crossing the border?” she asked.
“Through the Karan Valley and out along Barais’coi. We are going to Bailryn,” Bre’ach answered
Elspeth stopped. “That’s three weeks. I thought you said—”
“We’ll follow the river. I can fish.”
“Fish…? You sound like… Never mind.”
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