“Thank you, Lornsby. I won’t forget this,” Jaymin replied, with as much royal dignity as anyone hiding under a counter sitting scrunched up on a wheel of cheese surrounded by the smell of onions could muster.
“But he’s not safe yet,” cautioned Sir Edmend, who had returned to lean over the counter again. “We can’t leave with those two soldiers standing out there by my cart.”
“We’ll come up with something,” replied the innkeeper, straightening up again. He raised his voice to address the room. “That was marvelous quick thinking, men. Quite a story you came up with on the spur of the moment, Bennick.” He picked up a pitcher of ale and rounded the counter to go refill their cups. “I say, a toast to Bennick’s storytelling talents. This round’s on the house.”
“Don’t celebrate yet,” Sir Edmend admonished as soon as he was able to make himself heard over the cheers. “We still have to get the boys out.”
“To be sure we do. Don’t worry, expensive boys,” called one of the customers. “You just stay where you are for now, and we’ll think of a plan. Those snakes aren’t going to get their hands on you.”
“We just have to get those two soldiers off the road, is all,” someone pointed out.
“But what’s the best way to do that?”
“Wait till it’s a little darker, and then sneak up on them,” another voice suggested. “There are only two of them, and lots of us.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sir Edmend snapped. “They’re trained soldiers with swords, and they have their horses. Even if they didn’t hear you coming, the horses would; or they’d smell you. You’d be killed, every one of you, and then they’d probably burn the village to the ground.”
“Actually, I think the solution is quite simple,” put in Lornsby. “Think about it. It’s cold outside, and they’re not happy to be there anyway. All we have to do is convince them they would rather spend the evening back in here, and then –”
“In here?” half a dozen disbelieving voices cut in.
“Are you out of your mind?” someone added. “We just got them out!”
“No, listen. We welcome them to come join us back in here where it’s warm, they drink some ale, we let them spin some tales of their daring soldier deeds, they have some more ale, we all sing a few songs together, and in the meantime Ed and the boys have snuck out the back and gone round to their cart. We keep the soldiers occupied, and before they know what’s happening, cart and corn and boys and Ed have disappeared into the forest.”
“Good idea,” someone spoke out.
“Bring out your box of dice, Lornsby,” someone else suggested. “Lowest number gets to go invite them back.”
“Not just yet,” the innkeeper cautioned. “This is far too soon. They need time to get cold and bored and thirsty. You go out there now, and they’ll wonder why you’re so eager to get them off the road.”
“We can’t wait too long, though,” Sir Edmend spoke up, concern in his voice. “The boys and I have a deadline. If we don’t get to where we’re going in the next couple of hours … well … it wouldn’t be good.”
From around the room men chuckled knowingly in the way of people who share an understanding of something they never speak openly about. Jaymin got the impression that everyone here had at least a general idea of the secret their nearby forest held. After all, this was Sir Edmend’s last stop on his journeys in and out with supplies. Keston was full of patriotic Alasians who must know something about his work. That much was obvious from the way they had banded together to throw the Malornians off the scent even when they didn’t completely understand what was going on.
“Deadline or no, this won’t work at all if we don’t wait long enough,” the innkeeper announced firmly. “Make yourself comfortable, Ed. I’m going to go get my tools, and some of you can help me patch up that door. Then we’ll have some music. We’ll make it sound like they’re missing a lot of fun in here.”
Chapter 13
An hour or so later, Jaymin woke from another doze, his head pillowed on a sack of potatoes on the floor. The singing had finally stopped, and he knew at once what that meant. He and Erik sat up, more than ready to leave this tiny kitchen, where all they could do was sit behind the counter and wait while Sir Edmend and the rest of the inn’s customers sang one rousing chorus after another.
“All right, everyone, I think we’ve given those soldiers long enough,” the innkeeper was saying, and they could hear the sound of ale being poured into cups. “Fim, you’d better be the one to go down there; you’re the best actor here. Tell them I’m sending them each half a cupful as thanks for keeping the road safe from bandits this evening. Let them know that if they want to come sit by the fire with us for a couple of minutes, we’d love to learn a Malornian drinking song or two before they go back on duty. With any luck they’ll decide some more ale is in order, and that they’d rather guard a warm inn than an empty road.”
There were murmurs of agreement from around the room.
“And you, Ed,” Lornsby continued, striding round the corner into the kitchen. He nodded courteously to Jaymin as he fished a bunch of keys out of a cluttered drawer. “You and the boys here will slip out the back door before Fim goes out. Wait behind the inn for a while to make sure the soldiers are staying, then you can sneak around and down to your cart.”
“The two of us will go across the hillside while you take the road,” Erik told Sir Edmend as Lornsby sorted through the keys, found the right one, and unlocked a narrow door in the wall beside the oven. “We’ll join you in the cart after we’re all well into the forest, in case you get stopped before then.”
Sir Edmend, striding into the kitchen with his lanterns, nodded his agreement. He set one of them down to clasp Lornsby’s hand in farewell while Erik slipped out through the door first to check that the coast was clear.
“Good luck,” called someone in the inn, and Sir Edmend raised his hand in acknowledgement before picking up the lantern again and stepping outside.
In the doorway, Jaymin paused and looked back into the room, wondering if he ought to say anything to these men who were risking their lives for something that hadn’t been fully explained to them. They were watching him curiously, every one of them, no doubt wondering who this boy was whom they were going to so much trouble to protect. But no one asked any questions, and Jaymin settled for a brief smile and a nod of thanks before he followed the other two out into the cold night air.
The stars were bright overhead, and the thin layer of snow underfoot gleamed in the starlight. Jaymin drew Erik’s black cloak, which he still wore, close around himself, thankful for his new warm clothes out here on the icy hillside. Erik, cloakless himself, gathered the bundle that was Jaymin’s cloak to his chest and looked warily around.
Following his gaze, Jaymin saw a low shed behind the inn with a well standing before it. Further away, firelight glowed from the windows of a dozen scattered houses on the hillside before them. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys. He couldn’t see the two Malornians, who must be on the other side of the inn, but they all heard the front door open and close. Fim’s footsteps crunched through the snow as he headed down the path to the road below.
“Cold evening, isn’t it, friends?” he called, and Malornian voices grumbled a response.
“This will warm you up a little. Old Lornsby brews it himself. He says to tell you thanks for keeping the road safe tonight. We get bandits up in these parts now and again, but they’ll stay away with you here.”
“Only half a cup?” complained one of the soldiers.
“He’s a little stingy sometimes,” Fim’s voice apologized. “But if you’d like more, I’ll tell you something. We don’t get visitors very often here in Keston, and things are pretty dull most nights. We’ve all heard each other’s stories and sung the same old drinking songs more times than we can count. I’ll wager you know some that we don’t, though. If you care to come in and warm your hands by the fire awhile, my friends and I will be glad
to refill your cups a few times in exchange for a tale or a tune.”
There was a pause while the soldiers considered this. Jaymin pictured them weighing the risk of being caught away from their post and drinking on duty against the pleasure of a warm inn and pleasant company on a cold night.
“Well, maybe just for five minutes or so,” one of them replied finally. “I suppose we could take a little break and still be back out on watch hours before the others get back.”
“But only if you throw in a plate of that roast pork as well,” the other soldier added. “I’m starving!”
“A plate of pork it is, then,” Fim laughed. “I’ll pay for that myself if you’ll start by teaching us a new song. Something we haven’t heard before. Something Malornian. Well, come on, friends.”
Snow crunched underfoot again as the three of them climbed back up the slope to the inn. The door shut behind them, and then there was silence.
They waited, shivering a little as a frigid breeze blew off the snow on the slopes above the village. Jaymin wondered how long they needed to wait to be sure the soldiers wouldn’t be back out again too soon.
“I hope my horses are all right,” Sir Edmend muttered presently, fidgeting restlessly. “I never intended to leave them out in the cold this long. They’ve got their blankets on, but still. And I hope they don’t make a sound when they hear me coming.”
“How far down the road is the forest, sir?” Erik whispered, his mind on other problems.
“Not far. Half a mile or so.” Sir Edmend gestured into the dimness. “Just past the last of the houses up there. Once we get under the trees the road is pretty narrow; only the woodcutters really use it much. Don’t go too far in before I come; it would be easy to get lost.”
From behind them in the inn, they finally heard the muffled sound of two Malornian voices bursting into song:
“Well, lift your cup and we’ll all drink up
To our enemies’ defeat
For it ain’t no boast when we raise a toast
To the army that can’t be beat.”
“That’s our cue,” Sir Edmend whispered. “I’ll meet you just inside the trees. Good luck.” Moving quietly, he hurried around the corner and down the hill toward the road.
Erik beckoned to Jaymin and slipped through the shadows beside the shed, then along the slope above the road, which was stretched out to their left in a dark strip with billows of white on either side. Pausing to look down and back, Jaymin could see the boxy form of the cart standing at the side of the road.
It was easy to avoid the little houses squatting on the hillside. They reached the edge of the forest without incident and found stumps to sit on while they waited. For the second time that day, Jaymin was surprised at how easily he had escaped.
They could hear the cart approaching from a long way off. The wheels squeaked and the boards rattled, and the horses’ hooves seemed incredibly loud in the still night. Jaymin could hardly believe that no one was coming out to see what all the noise was. But the Malornians must still have been busy drinking and singing, and no one else in the village seemed to care. Besides, the soldiers hadn’t actually been told to guard the cart, Jaymin reminded himself, so surely they would have no real reason to be concerned if its owner drove it away.
However, the cart’s owner sneaking out the back and driving away in the middle of the night without unloading the cargo he had supposedly brought there to sell would probably be a different matter entirely. Jaymin frowned worriedly, wishing they had thought of that earlier. Would the two soldiers notice that Sir Edmend was no longer in the inn? Would they see the cart being driven off, cargo and all, in the direction of the forest? He could only hope they were so engrossed in their food and drink and song that they wouldn’t look out of the window until it was too late.
Finally, Sir Edmend entered the forest on foot, leading the two horses by their bridles with either hand. He was visibly relieved to see Jaymin and Erik waiting for him, and the two boys got up without a word and followed him down the narrow track.
For a long time they walked slowly through the darkness, straining to see the road ahead by the dim starlight that filtered through the trees. At one point Sir Edmend gestured to the right and they turned onto a narrower track, even harder to see than the first. Finally he stopped, and they all stood still and listened for a moment.
A light breeze sighed through the branches, and one of the horses snorted and shook his mane, but there was nothing else. No hoof beats. No angry Malornian voices. No sounds of pursuit.
“It looks like we made it,” Sir Edmend murmured, relief in his voice. Reaching back into the cart, he lit first one lantern and then the other; and Jaymin squinted and had to turn away from the sudden flare of light.
Erik frowned. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, sir? Now anyone around will see us long before we see them.”
Sir Edmend nodded as he fastened the lanterns to hooks at the front of the cart. “I know, but no one is likely to be around from here on except our own soldiers.” He climbed up to the seat and gestured for the boys to join him. “And we need the lanterns. I’ll never be able to see all the turns and forks in the road without them.”
Jaymin climbed up to sit beside him, but Erik made no move to join them. “Then I’ll walk beyond the reach of the light,” he declared, “and scout out the way. If there are enemies ahead of us, I’ll see them before they see the cart.”
Jaymin wasn’t sure how much good that would do, since it wouldn’t necessarily prevent an attack from behind or the side. But he knew his friend had excellent hearing and eyesight, and if Erik crept along ahead of the cart’s light and noise, he could keep an eye and ear open for trouble.
“Very well,” Sir Edmend agreed, shrugging. “When the road forks, wait till we catch up, and I’ll tell you which way to go.”
Erik tossed Jaymin his cloak and waited just long enough to receive his own in exchange before disappearing into the darkness. Sir Edmend slapped the reins, and the horses began to move forward at a slow trot.
Fir trees leaned broodingly in from either side, their white-robed branches contrasting sharply with the darkness between them, their shadows leaping and dancing and weaving in the lanterns’ bobbing light. Sir Edmend leaned back and sighed as the cart bumped along on the dirt track barely wide enough for it to pass. “I hope the delay hasn’t ruined our plans,” he muttered. “We’re a lot later that we were supposed to be.”
“Do you think General Dirken and our soldiers might have already left for their attack on Almar?” Jaymin queried worriedly. “Or would they wait for us?”
“I don’t know,” Sir Edmend replied grimly. “But the general told me he would have a couple of his most trusted men waiting a few miles into the woods. They would have fresh horses ready, and one of them would take the cart around by the road while the other led us through a shortcut straight to camp. Since we’re this late, though, I don’t know if they’ll still be there. They may have assumed something happened to change our plans, in which case they would probably have gone back to prepare for the attack.”
“But you do know how to get to the camp even without their help, right?” Jaymin pressed.
“Yes, but that way will take longer. And we may meet sentries on the road who don’t know we’re coming and might not want to let us through at all. Security is bound to be tight, tonight of all nights.”
Jaymin could think of nothing to say to this. What a disappointment it would be to have come all this way and gone through so much to get here, and then at the last minute be stopped so close to the goal. He had been looking forward to seeing the army – what was left of it, anyway – for a long time, and to speaking to the soldiers before their battle. Perhaps he was overestimating his own importance, Jaymin thought with a sigh, but he wanted to believe he could make a difference. That some inspirational words from him, along with the excitement and joy he hoped they would feel at seeing their prince alive, might just give them an extra
measure of strength and motivation tonight. And that could make the difference between success and failure, victory and defeat.
He and Sir Edmend sat in silence as the horses hauled them on, closer and closer to the destination they might or might not be able to reach, or reach in time.
Some sort of bird – an owl, perhaps – called out from the treetops over the crunch-thud of the horses’ hooves and the cart’s rattle and creak. Peering upward, Jaymin saw only a dark blur gliding silently away from the light. He wished his education had included a little more about the wilderness and what lived in it. It would have been nice to know what sorts of creatures might be all around them.
A moment later he wished it again when some small unseen animal burst out of the snowy underbrush right beside the road and went crashing away through the darkness. He and Sir Edmend both jumped and the horses shied in alarm. Sir Edmend tightened his grip on the reins and spoke softly to the horses, reassuring them, and in a moment they had calmed down enough to continue on their way. It took a little longer for Jaymin’s heart to calm down again.
The next startling sound came from far off to their left. This one was a long, lonesome cry that sent shivers up Jaymin’s spine and made the horses twitch their ears and roll their eyes nervously. Though he had never heard it before, Jaymin was sure it must be a wolf, and it occurred to him that Erik had never been trained in unarmed combat against wild animals. At least Sir Edmend had a sword, but Jaymin hoped nervously that his friend wouldn’t encounter any dangerous beasts out in the darkness ahead.
Several times Erik appeared out of the darkness before them to check directions before vanishing once again. Meanwhile, the cart trundled on, joggling and lurching over protruding roots and the occasional fallen branch hidden under the snow. After an hour or so of sitting on the wooden bench, Jaymin began to think that his friend had had the right idea in walking after all. Jaymin’s own back was beginning to ache a little from the hard boards; and his wasn’t throbbing from an encounter with a Malornian belt.
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