Dead Druid: Claire-Agon Ranger Book 2 (Ranger Series)

by Salvador Mercer

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Bran asked as they approached the wide river, many trees lined along its banks and concealing it from them, but Bran could almost literally taste the moisture in the air.

  “It means you spent most of your life traveling the roads, trails, and rivers of our realm and not enough amongst the countryside and wilds, so you think the realm is barren, a shadow of what really exists as society cuts and destroys nature around it.”

  Malik sounded bitter, and Bran pondered his words. “So you suggest that I am surprised by the growth of nature outside?”

  “Yes,” Malik said.

  “Perhaps you’re right,” Bran said, not wanting to argue the point.

  “There.” Malik pointed, and the men headed toward a grouping of reeds, bushes, and low-hanging tree branches. Deep within the tangle of water vegetation lay a small rowboat. Only large enough for two people, it was very shallow and narrow.

  “You traveled across the Ulatha in that?” Bran marveled at the small boat, thinking it not safe to sit in, much less row.

  “Shhh, a patrol.” Malik pulled Bran down, ensuring they were well hidden in the brush, but it was not necessary. The patrol was on the far side of the river, many stone throws away, and they could not be heard, though the torches they carried made them more than visible from across the water.

  “They don’t seem to be very attentive,” Bran noted. The Kesh pretty much were walking back to their fortifications in Fornz, and only a couple of the brigands were making any real attempt at looking for hidden rebels, moving their brands down low, swinging them from side to side, illuminating the ground near the bank and looking for any telltale sign of passage.

  “A simple patrol, more concerned with returning to a warm fire and a hot meal than anything else,” Malik said.

  “Yes, but a few of them are searching well,” Bran noted.

  “Not all the brigands are lazy or incompetent,” Malik said. “Some are more disciplined than others.”

  Bran nodded in the dark, again not sure if Malik saw him or not. The pair waited till the patrol passed and started to dwindle away, though still visible. Without speaking, Malik pulled the slender oars from the boat and pushed it away from the branches that hung from a half-fallen tree, motioning for Bran to get in.

  Bran boarded and moved to the back, trying hard to keep his balance, and felt better after sitting on a flat, bare bench. Malik pushed the boat out and jumped in, hardly making a splash at all. Malik used the oars to swing the small rowboat about and gently started to row, making sure he didn’t ripple the water too much.

  It took the better part of a half hour to cross, and they ended up well downstream as the current was deceptively strong and quick. Without sound, Malik pushed the boat into another group of weeds and covered their tracks when they reached the bank and headed north.

  They traveled for most of the night and then took a couple of hours to sleep. Even in the daytime, they continued to walk, covering a great amount of ground with their long strides and brutal pace. The countryside down here was rough and had patches of bushes, brush, and trees scattered about, dotting it as if a godlike child had thrown its toys down on a large carpet of lush green grass.

  The sun passed without incident and set again, and the men continued throughout the night even when Tira and Sara rose in the east. Only when Bran thought he could not go further did they stop for a few hours of sleep and rest. Their last day was much the same, and the pair found themselves in a land where an occasional homestead was seen with rough fencing for cattle or sheep intact, but no sight of man or beast.

  “We’re getting close to Korwell,” Bran said.

  “Yes, we should be there by daybreak tomorrow,” Malik said, continuing their pace.

  The ground started to flatten out more, and the trees, brushes, and scrubs were less often to be found. Malik slowed their pace now and started to spend more time listening before making the run from grove to grove. He also gave wide berth to any homestead that they came across.

  Finally when the twin sisters set and the dawn started to purple, they crested a small rise and looked north toward Korwell in the distance. Lights flickered atop the crenelated towers, and the dark forbidding walls that had stood for centuries mocked their smallness in a vast world.

  “Home,” Bran said, lying next to Malik and taking in the scene.

  “For some,” Malik said.

  “And now?” Bran turned to face his companion as both lay facing their capital.

  Malik looked at Bran carefully before answering. “Now, we sleep during the day, and then tonight, we seek our revenge.”

  Chapter 23

  Sacrifice

  “Run, quickly now, down the hill toward those wagons,” Dareen said, pointing at the wagons below near the oven line.

  The children and Rockton women all ran, scrambling to stay on their feet, and when they reached the first of the wagons, a cry came from the dark in front of them.

  “What in Agon are you doing here now?” Wally said, coming from behind a wagon and looking at the group.

  Dareen followed, pushing past the children, and took her helmet off so he could see her clearly enough. “We had no choice; we had to leave right away.”

  “That is awful garb you’re wearing,” Wally said, and soon Estelle, Inga, and Marge walked up to the group from their hiding places. “We haven’t had a chance to prepare the hiding places yet.”

  Estelle found her son, Matthew, and hugged him intensely. Dareen smiled, feeling Ann’s hand in her own, and she understood the reunion as only a mother really could.

  “This isn’t going so well,” Inga said, looking back at the stockade in the far distance. “How long till they arrive?”

  “I’ve no idea,” Dareen said, also looking past the dim glows of the ovens and trying to see if there were any signs of Kesh activity at their prison. “The good news is that I think they would be more focused on keeping us in than looking for us out here.”

  “We need to do something,” Mary said, pushing forward with her full Kesh gear on. “We can’t stay here all night.”

  “Right, so, Gwenny, you take Ann here and the other children and move to the first wagon up front,” Dareen said, looking at the closest wagon and inspecting it. “Why, what do we have here?”

  The others gasped as Dareen pulled out a spear that was hidden under the wagon seat for the driver. “Do all the wagons have spears?” Wally asked.

  “Let’s find out,” Dareen said, walking up to the next cart and checking. Sure enough, another crude spear was there, tucked under the seat. They were short spears, just long enough to fit, but dangerous enough.

  Suddenly, two young boys came from around the far berm with a horse attached to a set of reins, and they were walking them toward the cart in front of them. Both boys noticed the large group and halted, looking at each other. Wally grabbed a spear, as did Mary, and ran up to them with Dareen following.

  “Don’t move, either of you,” Mary said, pointing a spear at the boys and spooking the horses. The horses took over their attention spans despite the fears, and the youngsters struggled to keep the horses under control.

  “That wasn’t good,” Wally said sheepishly, now holding his spear butt end on the ground, tip point up in the air, which wasn’t very threatening at all.

  One boy soothed his horse and then turned with an angry look at Mary. “You’re going to get one of us killed or have the horse break a leg, running up and shouting at us like that.” The other boy just nodded.

  “Who are you?” Dareen asked, her voice having a calming effect on them.

  “I’m Chester, and this here is my brother, Chucks,” the first boy said.

  “Chester and Charles McFadden?” Mary asked, removing her helmet.

  “Miss Mary?” Chester asked, squinting in the dark to see her better, though the Kesh garb for sure wasn’t helping.

  “What in the Nine Towers are you doing out here?” Mary asked, lowering h
er spear and walking up to the boys.

  The trio appeared to know each other, and the boys explained that they were slaving in the stables and one of their duties was to saddle and gear up the horses for the wagons before dawn each morning. Dareen didn’t wait to listen more and started up the berm to see the castle and surrounding grounds again.

  “Where are you going?” Wally asked.

  “To see what’s happening,” Dareen responded.

  Soon, Dareen found herself back atop the berm and looking northwest toward the castle. There was a lot of activity there, and as she was watching, she thought she saw what looked like a large patrol heading toward the town in the far western distance. No troops were heading their way, though the alarm bell continued to toll, echoing throughout the night.

  A smaller group left the front gate, over the drawbridge, and disappeared around the castle walls to the far side, appearing to head north. Dareen watched them for a full minute more to ensure they kept to their course, and finally returned to the group below, not bothering to look at the stockade in the far east of their pit.

  “Well,” Wally said, greeting her as she arrived, and the others joined around.

  “They sent out two groups, one toward the town and the other north, behind the castle.” Dareen looked at the group, seeing if they understood.

  “So no Kesh heading this way?” Estelle asked, holding her son’s hand.

  “Not yet, and I didn’t bother to see what they’re doing over there,” Dareen said, motioning to their old prison. “We can load up in the wagons and head west.”

  “Did you say the Kesh are heading toward the town?” Chester asked.

  “Yes.” Dareen nodded.

  “The road runs right by the town on the southern end. They will get there in fifteen minutes if they left the castle. It will take at least twenty for you to reach the town and clear the other side of it. If not, they will catch you on the road.” Chester’s eyes went wide as he spoke.

  “How do you know so much?” Dareen looked at the young lad suspiciously.

  “That’s all we do, prep the horses and run them between the pits, the castle, and the town for food and other supplies. Been doing it all summer now,” he said.

  “What are we going to do?” Marge asked.

  “Yeah, we can’t run east, can we?” Shiela asked, also taking off her helmet in the process. “That goes deeper into Kesh.”

  “We need a diversion, then,” Dareen said. “Need to draw them back here and away from the road.

  “Well, you better hurry, then,” Chester said. “If they cross the ravine and then you draw them here, they will come along the same road you wish to escape on.”

  “How do you know we want to escape?” Dareen asked, giving the lad that same look again.

  “I told them,” Mary said. “In fact, I invited them to go with us.”

  The boys held up their feet and showed manacles attached that allowed them to walk at a shuffle but not run. They were used to secure the boys when they weren’t working. Dareen was aghast at the cruelty of the Kesh but understood that they had no time.

  “Stand back,” Dareen said to Mary and the others. “Not you two,” she said to the stable boys. Pulling her wand from her hair, she knelt and touched it to Chester’s manacles, saying, “Otkroi!” The manacles unclasped, and Chester gasped and then smiled, bending over and removing them. She repeated the process on Charles, or Chucks, as his brother called him, with the same result.

  “Why, I’ll be a dragon’s cousin,” Wally said, making a warding sign and looking at Dareen with a new perspective.

  “That’s not how you say it,” Mary corrected the man. “It’s supposed to be a troll’s uncle.”

  “Nonsense,” Wally said, looking at Mary with a frown on his face. “Trolls don’t have no uncles.”

  “Please, both of you, we don’t have time for this. Can you prepare a wagon for us, then?” Dareen asked the boys.

  “We already hitched three wagons,” Chester said, “and we were taking these two horses to the fourth wagon.”

  “Show me,” Dareen said, formulating a different plan in her mind.

  “So you are a witch,” Estelle whispered at Dareen, leaning toward her so that she wasn’t overheard.

  “Hardly,” Dareen whispered back. “Just a simple charm I learned long ago.”

  “A powerful one, though,” Estelle said, leaning back and giving Dareen a knowing nod and a newfound look of admiration.

  The boys finished tying the horses up to the fourth wagon and led them past the next two wagons, which had horses hitched already to the wagons, until they reached the first. “This here’s the caravan master’s wagon,” Chucks said.

  The wagons looked small when compared to how many of their group was standing around them. “We need two at least,” Dareen said.

  “Got it,” Mary countered, and motioned for Gwenny. “Break the children into two groups of ten and nine.”

  Gwenny nodded and counted the first ten, telling them to hop into the first wagon. The next nine, including Ann and Estelle’s boy, Matthew, were led back to the second wagon.

  “Toss the bricks out,” Wally said, grabbing two bricks at a time and dropping them over the wagon side to fall onto the ground. The bricks were heavy enough that there weren’t too many of them stacked in a pile on each wagon. Dareen started to realize that her plan really wasn’t going to work by hiding them under the bricks or between them without the teamsters and guards knowing about it.

  “Time to go,” Dareen said, taking Estelle to the side and giving her Ann’s hand. “Take her and keep her safe.”

  “No, Mommy,” Ann cried.

  “I’ll be right behind you, my love. I need to distract the Kesh so you can get away,” Dareen said.

  “That’s crazy,” Estelle said, a look of fright on her face. “Just get in the wagon and come with us.”

  The sound of bricks plunking on the ground and whacking each other became louder and louder, but it was the sound of the stockade alarm, a smaller gong that rang out as several lights were lit from atop its walls, that got their attention.

  Chester walked up with Mary. The boy looked to be about twelve, while his brother was maybe ten. “You must do something now, otherwise they’ll be on the road soon . . . unless you want to travel east.”

  That was the last direction any of them would travel. Without thinking too long, Dareen nodded and then spoke to Mary, ignoring Estelle and her daughter. “Take them down the road as far as you can till you get to Ulatha past the Border Mountains. We have fighters there, and they should be able to find you. You boys, tie the horses up for me on the fourth wagon.”

  Dareen didn’t know about the walled fort at the mountain pass. The wagons would never enter Ulatha that way, but Mary nodded and Dareen started running back to the end of the wagon train as the boys complied with her request.

  “Wait, you can’t do this alone,” Inga said, running behind her.

  The last thing Dareen heard was Mary ordering each boy to return and lead the wagons once they were done. Dareen turned to Inga. “I can handle this.”

  “No, you can’t,” Inga said. “Besides, we can cause a bigger distraction if there’s two of us, and the boys are tying up both horses. We can use them to escape.”

  Dareen took a moment to assess Inga’s words. The barmaid was right; they could cover more ground if there were two of them and there was going to be two horses, so that looked as if it was a sign from Agon the Mother herself. “All right, let’s get fires going as fast as we can back here.”

  Inga nodded, and soon the women were running straw toward the ovens and even hot coals toward the straw piles on the far eastern end of the brick pits, using the large paddles that were used to insert the bricks into the ovens normally. The fires spread rapidly, greedily consuming the dry hay in the summer night.

  “Help me with this wagon,” Dareen said, moving to the third wagon and piling hay and wood on it. Soon Inga had some co
als dumped on it, and it started to burn with both women stepping back. The horses neighed but stomped and whinnied, not doing much else. They were somewhat trained to deal with fire and destruction with their Kesh masters.

  “We’ll have to drive it toward the stockade,” Dareen said, starting to get into the wagon.

  “No,” Inga said, “I’ll do this. I used to drive a cart back in Korwell to pick up supplies for the tavern. You go up top and see if our distraction worked or not.”

  Dareen hesitated but then ran off after Inga sat in the seat and lashed the reins to get the horses moving through the brick pit work area. Within seconds, Inga had the wagon racing eastward, narrowly avoiding one of the mud pits and breaking two slabbing tables in the process.

  Racing up the berm, Dareen was relieved to see the faint torchlight of the large Kesh patrol heading their way back toward the castle. In fact, they had doubled back and almost reached the castle, in which case they would reach the brick pits in about ten minutes after that, less if they ran.

  A loud crashing sound reached her ears, and she turned to watch as the wagon crashed into the front gate of the stockade. Inga had unhitched the horses and apparently jumped before allowing the fast-running wagon to end its brief journey totally in flames as it slammed into the wooden stockade.

  Another sound of yelling reached her ears from where the first wagons were. The teamsters who were to drive the wagons apparently were awakened from some nearby lodging or some such and were trying to stop the wagons from leaving. They were a good distance down the line, but Dareen could make the men out. They weren’t armed but more than one was a large man and could easily overpower Wally or any of the women.

  Mary’s voice came floating over the wind. “Kesh scum, go back to where you belong. The abyss with you!” And the wagons took off, rising on a gentle slope on the road out of the pit and onto the main road, heading west toward Ulsthor.

  Inga screamed in pain, and Dareen looked to see the barmaid struggling back toward the brick pits. Two crossbow bolts were stuck in her, one in her left thigh and the other in her right shoulder, low enough to hit her lung. Both bolts had hit her as she walked back. Such cowards, Dareen thought to herself.