“We could go north,” Gialyn said.
Bre’ach shook his head. “No, they will be hunting boar, if anything. It’s noon; boars forage the grassland at dawn and dusk. They return to their sounders in the rocks during the heat of the day. I’d bet those three are coming back from the hunt, which means before long they will likely be heading north themselves.”
Bre’ach turned and settled himself down. Taking off his pack, he took his food wrap from the front pocket and sat cross-legged, leaning against the boulder. “It’s time for food, anyway. We might as well rest a while, wait for them to finish their hunt.”
Gialyn sat next to Bre’ach. The shade from the boulder was a welcome relief. There had not been a cloud in the sky for three days. The rocks, some as black as coal, reflected heat from the perpetual sun. Gialyn stretched his tired legs out in front of him, then closed his eyes and let the mild breeze wash over his face. For two copper, he could have slept right where he sat.
That would never do, Gialyn thought. For one thing, Bre’ach would never allow it. When did he take charge? For another, Gialyn knew well and good that Bre’ach’s constant diligence was more than just caution; he was hiding something. Whether it was danger of some sort, or simply that he didn’t want to argue the point with Elspeth, remained to be seen. But something was bothering the Salrian. Gialyn hoped it was just nerves. After all, Bre’ach, he knew – from the time the Salrian had kidnapped him, which somehow seemed an awful long time ago – was not much older than he was.
For now, though, Gialyn was happy for the hour’s rest. He made a meal of dried meat and cheese, and sat eating while surveying the land they had just crossed.
It was a strange looking place, the Karan lowlands; nothing like the Geddy. Gialyn had seen mountain terrain before – he lived eight miles south of the Monarcdair – but this land was different, older somehow. He didn’t know why, but it felt… evil… otherworldly.
To the left, the Karan Ridge cut a sharp swathe through the land. Its multi-hued edge, like jagged teeth, rose in a near vertical line. The ridge ran east as his eyes could see. Unlike the Speerlag, the Karan kept its height all the way along the seemingly endless miles. There was little wonder that they – what had Daric called them, the Kel’mad? – needed a map of the Tunnels of Aldregair. They would have a long march around the Karan without it. And if they did come this way, what would they have achieved? A three-week trek to the middle of nowhere. They would still have to march back east, all the way to Bailryn. As shortcuts went, the Aldregair Tunnels were king, no doubt there.
To the right, the lowlands swept past the thin line of grassland that ran parallel to the river. The east-west trail was up there; Gialyn could just about make out the unnatural straight line of the dirt road. But of what lay beyond, he had no idea. The heat had turned the horizon into a shimmering haze.
West was familiar. West was where they had come from. It was not a fond memory. What a cursed, treacherous land this was: slippery boulders, sharp crevices, non-existent trails, soldiers…
Gialyn sat up straight. “Soldiers!”
Bre’ach dropped his food and jumped to his feet, then immediately crouched back down. He scurried forward, almost on all fours, and stooped behind a wide tablet of particularly dark rock, with just the top of his head poking over the lip. “Where?” His harsh whisper sounded angry.
Elspeth froze. Eyes wide, with a forkful of food paused halfway to her mouth, she slowly turned her head, until she, too, had fixed her eyes on the western horizon. She looked terrified. Gialyn’s heart sank, both dread and anger welled up in his throat. What the bloody hell are we doing here? We should be home!
“Control yourselves, you two,” Bre’ach groaned. He sounded like a father telling off misbehaving children. “Where, Gialyn? Where did you see them? Come on, snap out of it.”
Gialyn gasped as his mind snapped back to reality. He had heard everything Bre’ach had asked, but it had floated over his head. “What? Uh… there… there, where the river flows around that peak.” Gialyn pointed to a large rock formation about a mile to the west. Armoured men – Salrian soldiers – made ten or twelve dark shapes, picking their way through the trail. “Are they tracking us? I thought you said they couldn’t track in the lowlands.”
“I didn’t say they couldn’t, I said it’s hard to track over rock. Get your things together, and hurry up about it.” Bre’ach was handing Gialyn his own plate, mug and food wraps faster than he could put them away. “You too, Elspeth. Elspeth!”
Elspeth squealed with surprise when Bre’ach nudged her shoulder. “Yes, yes, I heard you,” she said.
“Then why aren’t you moving? Come on, hurry.”
“Give her a second, Bre’ach. There’s no need to push her around.”
“Push her…?” Bre’ach shook his head. “I’m leaving in thirty seconds. If you’re not with me, you’re on your own.”
Elspeth seemed to come to her senses. “Now we have to go north, don’t we?”
“This is the Karan lowlands, Elspeth. North or South means going up. They will see us for sure. We will have to continue east. If I remember right, there’s a ford a few miles upriver.”
Elspeth nodded in consent and then blinked. “Won’t that be where those hunters are headed?”
“Maybe,” Bre’ach said. He sounded annoyed Elspeth remembered the hunters. “But better three poachers than a dozen soldiers.”
Elspeth could not argue with that, although Bre’ach looked as if he was expecting her to.
They packed up in silence. Bre’ach led the way east at a crouching run. Gialyn followed behind Elspeth.
* * *
“I’m telling you, Olg, someone’s following us!”
“Lud, you always think someone is following.” Olg poked the older man forward. The damn fool was forever seeing or hearing things that weren’t there. “Why can’t you be more like Fran? You never hear him complain.”
“That’s because Fran is as deaf as a rock. I’m telling you, there’s someone there.”
Olg sighed. Not for the first time, he wondered why he had brought the old fool along. “Even if there is, they are probably just poachers, like us. Soldiers never come this far south.”
“Well, that’s no bloody better. We’ve been tracking these boar for five hours; I’m not sharing them.”
Olg slowly shook his head. It seemed he was constantly having the same conversation with the man. “Don’t you worry; they’ll not be stealing anything from us. Those boar are ours.”
“Oh, so you admit you hear it, too.”
“I didn’t say… Just stop talking and get a move on. Nobody will be catching anything if you don’t shut up.”
The old fool gave Olg a sullen look as he lurched along the track. Wife’s brother or not, he would not be coming again. This time Olg would tell her straight; Lud was an idiot, and to hell with her talk about family this and family that. His guts tightened at the thought of Ethal’s cackling voice berating him. It was not the first time he had told her of Lud’s incompetence, nor was it the first time he had promised himself never to bring him again. Who am I kidding? The bloody woman has me by my short hairs. With a resigned sigh, he followed the old fool down to the ford.
Lud stopped again. He held up his hand, then crouched down.
“Now what?” Olg asked.
“I told you, I told you. Look, there.”
Olg followed Lud’s pointed finger and gasped at the sight of a young woman sitting beneath a dead tree. “What the bloody hell? What’s she doing here?”
The girl was Surabhan. Slim, pretty, with long brown hair; she was quite beautiful. Her dark eyes stared towards the river. Olg thought she might be lost, but then she seemed so at ease, casual, as though she felt at home. That couldn’t be right. There must be others with her.
“I don’t know,” Fran said, “but she’s a looker, and no mistake.” Seemed he could hear well enough when he wanted to.
“Well, go on then.” Lud
urged Olg forward.
Olg walked cautiously up to the girl. He glanced around for her companions. Nobody else was there; could she really be alone?
Lud and Fran moved up next to him.
Lud was glaring at her like a wolf eyeing a lamb. “If she’s a light skirt, she’s a pretty one. I call first go,” he said.
“First go! What are you talking about?” Olg said. He clipped the old man around the back of the head. “You’re a married man, Lud. And even if you weren’t, she’s but a girl.”
“Who’s going to know? Besides, she’s a Surabhan. You can never tell with Surabhan; she might be twenty.”
“And why does that matter? You’re still a dog for thinking such a thing. Honestly, why would you even consider—”
“Oh, and you didn’t, the first time you—”
The girl interrupted, “Come now, boys, there’s no need to argue. I don’t mind who goes first.” She smiled at him while tugging down the collar of her shirt to show the top of her pale breast. She curled her finger and gestured them forward.
Olg gaped at her. Was she one of those women from the travellers’ fair? She seemed a bit young for it. “Are you lost?” he asking, taking a careful step forward…
And that’s when he felt the knife at his throat.
* * *
Gialyn smiled, as Elspeth sighed with relief. “I’m never doing anything that again, Bre’ach. Next time, you can be the… decoy.”
“I doubt they would have stopped for me.” Bre’ach had a wide grin on his face. “You did very well, Elspeth.”
“I still can’t believe you would suggest such a thing. Disgusting!”
“It worked didn’t it?”
“What are you smiling at, Gialyn Re’adh?” Elspeth said. “If you ever tell anyone of this…”
Gialyn bit his lip to stop himself grinning. He bowed low at Elspeth’s accusatory finger pointing. “I won’t tell. But he’s right, you did do well, anyone would think you had pract—”
“Who are you?” One of the poachers interrupted. “You’re not soldiers or hunters. What are you doing here?”
“You first,” Bre’ach replied, pushing his knife so it made a small pit in the poacher’s neck.
“I’m Olg. This is Lud and Fran. We are just innocent hunters. We are no trouble to you. Why did you attack us?”
“‘No trouble!’ We heard what you were planning on doing to our friend,” Bre’ach told him. “And you’re no hunter. I’d bet ten gold you’re poaching; this is Barony land, and you’re no gamekeeper. Elspeth, throw me the rope.”
Elspeth reached down behind the rock she was sitting on and picked up the rope Bre’ach had left with her.
“Now just a minute,” Olg whined in protest, “We… Lud thought she was a light skirt; we wouldn’t have forced her. You can’t go leaving us tied up; we will starve.”
Elspeth pulled the rope back from Bre’ach’s grasp. “You didn’t say anything about letting them starve.”
“After what they said, you’re worried if they go hungry for a few hours? Someone will find them, eventually.”
“They didn’t all suggest it,” Elspeth said, pointing at the old man. “It was just him. The tall one was scolding him for saying it.”
“Then what do you propose we do, Elspeth? Stand here arguing until Alaf’kan’s men catch up with us? We have ten minutes, if not less.”
“Alaf’kan!” Olg yelped. “The general’s men are coming here!?”
“Yes, Alaf’kan’s men, but they won’t be—”
Bre’ach stood open mouth as Olg and the other poachers picked up their packs. They started to walk south toward the ford, oblivious to the threat of Bre’ach’s knife.
“What the…?”
“Well… come on. Don’t just stand there,” Olg said.
Gialyn’s jaw dropped. He turned to Elspeth and Bre’ach.
Olg, the tallest of the hunters, reached down and grabbed Fran’s right wrist, then lifted the smaller man’s arm and pushed it forward, shaking it for all to see. There was no hand at the end of Fran’s arm. “This is what you get for poaching boar in the lowlands. If Alaf’kan’s men are behind us, we’ll be lucky to get away with this much.” He shook Fran’s arm again for effect. “Now, come on, you three. If you’re running from that pig, you’re all right by me.”
Bre’ach shrugged, and Elspeth stared as the poachers walked away.
“What do we do?” Gialyn asked. He wasn’t sure who he was asking; was Bre’ach in charge now? Was anybody?
“The one thing we can’t do is stand here arguing.” Bre’ach shouldered his pack. “We’ll follow,” he told Olg’s back, “but I warn you, I was a soldier be… Well, I was a soldier; don’t try anything foolish.”
“I couldn’t care less if you’re the Queen of Eurmac’s nephew, boy,” Olg said over his shoulder. “Hurry up.”
Gialyn followed Elspeth, as the poachers led them all towards the ford. He was strangely pleased that they were joining the “hunters.” Oh, Lud was a lecherous, rude old man, but the other two seemed all right. It struck him that perhaps most Salrians were no different from Surabhan.
“There’s a cave not far from here,” the tall poacher said. “It’ll be getting dark soon. We shouldn’t be walking around the lowlands in the dark. That’s an easy way to get a leg broken.”
“Camp? With them?” Elspeth whispered. “Are they joking? Why would we want to sleep anywhere near them?”
Bre’ach appeared deep in thought. “We’ll keep a watch. I don’t trust them, either, but I don’t know this area very well; if they can show us somewhere safe to hide, it would be worth the risk.”
“Says you,” Elspeth moaned. “You’re not the one he tried to… you know.”
Bre’ach looked over his shoulder at her. “You’re the one who said the other two were all right.”
“I didn’t mean spend the night, though.”
Gialyn could understand her point of view. They were poachers; what if they woke to find all their possessions gone? Oh, he didn’t think they would hurt them, but being stuck out here with no weapons or food would be just as bad. Still, Bre’ach was right; they had to hide, and the poachers knew the land. He would just have to keep an eye on them, sleep with his pack tied to his wrist.
Once across the river, the ground beneath their feet reminded Gialyn more of a rocky shoreline than a mountain trail. Loose rocks threatened to break ankles if they didn’t watch their footing. The rocks that weren’t loose were sharp, like flint or slate. Gialyn’s knees and back protested on the uneven ground. Not only was their path steep, but it also slanted from left to right. Elspeth seemed to be doing a better job of staying upright, but Gialyn could hear Bre’ach cursing every pothole and crevice. Well, at least he wasn’t arguing with Elspeth, for a change.
They walked for what seemed like hours, then Olg pointed up at a wide outcrop. “There it is,” he said. “We can rest in there.”
The cave was high above the track; nobody passing below would see them. Gialyn had to admit, it was a good place to rest. Once inside, he dropped his pack and sat with his back against the wall. The cave wasn’t very deep; they would be sleeping close together. That was, of course, if they could get any sleep. He was certain Elspeth would stay awake.
Bre’ach nodded approvingly when he ducked inside the cave. Although he was careful not to let the poachers see. “We’ll eat first, then I’ll take the first watch,” he told Elspeth. “You should try to sleep.”
Elspeth, unsurprisingly, gave him a look that said that was never going to happen. She stomped around the cave, then yanked her blanket off her pack. Gialyn knew she was putting on a don’t-mess-with-me performance for Lud. The old man obliged by keeping out of her way.
After food, there was nothing to do but sit and wait for bed. Gialyn slouched at the cave entrance, listening to Elspeth’s angry mumblings, and watching Bre’ach as he kept an eye on the river – he could just about see it from where he was sitting. Gialyn
pulled his blanket up to his chin. He wasn’t tired. It was going to be a long night.
CHAPTER 17
Where Least Expected
The morning came, and with it, the weather. Thunderstorms were commonplace amid the heat of mid-spring, especially in the mountains. But this storm was something more. It was almost as if the heat of the last few weeks had held it back while it gathered strength.
Elspeth sat in the shallow cave, looking out over the Karan Lowlands – or rather, what little she could see of the barren, rocky landscape. The thick curtain of rain obscured all but the first few paces beyond the cave’s entrance. It was miserable: dark, wet and, for once, cold. As if that weren’t bad enough, she had barely managed to get an hour’s sleep, what with those poachers snoring and belching not a span from her bed.
The others – the poachers, Bre’ach and Gialyn – were perched on small boulders or sat cross-legged on the cave floor. The three Salrians – Olg, Lud and Fran – were huddled together, talking about the storm. Bre’ach hadn’t taken his eyes off them since they led the way across the Broan River. He looked miserable, too. Now and then, the Salrian ex-soldier would curse under his breath, especially when Gialyn spoke to one of the poachers. Elspeth couldn’t help but agree; Gialyn was treating the Salrians like long lost friends. What was he doing? First, he sides with Bre’ach, now this bunch of misfits. He was far too trusting; it would get him killed one day. He wouldn’t be so quick to trust folk if he’d been in that cellar in Be’olyn.
Despite Elspeth’s wish to move on, Lud, the lecherous old Salrian, insisted they should stay put. “Don’t worry, miss; Alaf’kan’s men won’t be going anywhere in this. We’re quite safe waiting a while,” is what he had said when Elspeth asked why they shouldn’t just carry on. He may well have been right, although she would never have agreed with him openly. Bre’ach didn’t seem too keen on moving, either, and Elspeth was sure he would do almost anything to disagree with one of the poachers. Elspeth had good reason to dislike Lud; she couldn’t understand why Bre’ach loathed the three of them so much. Maybe he was just cautious; they certainly didn’t seem the trustworthy type. Except maybe Olg. She had to admit, he didn’t seem too bad.
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