“As long as it’s going away from those bounty hunters, it’s heading in the right direction,” Steve mumbled as he climbed up to the seat of the old minstrel wagon and picked up the reins.
Kevin and Chris watched as the wagons started moving down the road, led by Karl and shadowed by Darrell. As Darrell rode by, he saluted Kevin and whispered, “We’ll be expecting you shortly after sunrise. If you don’t show, we’ll be back for you.”
“No,” Kevin whispered back. “If we don’t join you, it’s because we’re dead. Keep going. Get to Milhaven. Let them know what happened.”
Darrell shook his head and whispered back over his shoulder as he rode on down the road, “If you don’t show, we’ll be back.”
After the wagons faded into the night, Kevin lifted himself, Chris, and the debris, and floated them back to the south side of the river to their campsite. Chris scattered the various bits that would serve as evidence of their destruction around the campsite. He wasn’t sure why he was doing that, since Kevin’s tornado would probably scatter them even farther, but it was something to do while he waited for dawn.
Kevin kept his seeing eye trained on the bounty hunters, watching for any signs of an early morning attack. About the time that the sky began to lighten in the east, the bounty hunters began to move around and pack up. Kevin scanned the overcast sky for a heavy cloud that would be easy to stir up, and found one not too far away to the west. He and Chris ducked behind a small grove of trees and he began to stir up the wind and lightening. Before long, he had a nice thunderhead growing.
The approaching storm spurred the bounty hunters into action, so Kevin took one last quick look around, warned Chris that the bounty hunters were on the move, and gave himself over to creating the tornado.
Chris unsheathed his sword and circled around so that he was within an arm’s reach of Kevin but between him and the old campsite. He stared at the woods, watching for anything that moved as he listened to the distinctive roar of the approaching storm. He didn’t have to look up at the sky to know that the funnel was forming; he could hear all about it from the screams of the bounty hunters as they tried to mount their frightened horses and ride out of the path of the tornado. After a few minutes, the only sound Chris could hear was the roar of the storm.
Chris knew that Kevin was in the middle of it mentally, and he couldn’t help but wonder just how close they were to being in the middle of it physically. As he listened, the roar seemed to level off for a couple of minutes and a dark wind, thick with dirt and forest debris, swept through their old campsite, but it was only a wind, not a tornado.
After the noise from the tornado died out and the wind passed, Kevin grinned and said, “You should have seen them run. They’ll be miles from here before they even slow down.”
“What happened? Where’s the tornado,” Chris asked with a frown. “I thought you were going to hit the camp site so that it would look destroyed.”
“Take a look. See what you think.”
Chris stepped out from behind the bushes where they had been standing and looked around. Trees along a path about a hundred yards long had been uprooted and tossed around like kindling. Most of the debris Chris had scattered was pinned under fallen trees and half covered by dirt and leaves.
Kevin asked, “Do you think it looks like a tornado hit it?”
“What do you mean, ‘looks like’?”
“Well, I sort of danced the funnel around and then sent it back up right before it got here. I didn’t want to take the chance of a tree coming down on top of us while I was off in the clouds. After I had the funnel back up in the cloud, I stirred up a good dirty wind down here so no one could see me uproot the trees and set the scene.”
“You did all of this?”
“Yeah, do you think it looks all right?”
Chris looked around again and nodded. “It really does look like the tornado went through here.” Then he looked at Kevin and asked, “Are you about ready to get out of here? I’m not as sure as you are that those guys are miles away. Now that the storm is gone, they’ll start heading back.”
“Okay, but what are we going to use as a diversion so that I can lift us up over those trees without being seen?” After a moment, Kevin said, “I know what I’ll do,” and snow flakes began to fall.
“You’re making history with this weather you know. A tornado in January? Followed by a snowstorm?”
“Not just a snow storm, Chris. There’s a lot of moisture up there, and the temperature’s cold enough. Let me see if I can’t stir up a little blizzard out of this,” Kevin said as he focused on the clouds again. A few minutes later, the snow was coming down so heavy and fast that it created a whiteout. Kevin lifted himself and Chris and quickly floated them across the river, over the trees on the other side, and down the road after the wagons. The snowstorm followed them until Kevin had the wagons in sight. Then he let the wind slack off and the snow settled down to a gentle flurry.
As they joined the others, Karl nodded and said, “There won’t be any sign that we were on the road on the north side of the river now that it’s covered in snow. Nice touch.”
After Steve handed the old minstrel wagon back over to Kevin and he and Chris mounted their horses, Karl said, “Okay, let’s see how much distance we can put between ourselves and those bounty hunters by nightfall,” and turned his horse to head on down the road.
~ ~ ~ ~
Over the next few hours, while the Tellurians headed east on the north side of Pooley River, the bounty hunters, led by the bandit from Billows, returned to search along the tornado’s path. After a grueling morning of digging through the snow that had been dumped on the area behind the tornado, they gathered in the middle of what had been the Tellurians’ campsite with the debris that they had found. Even though none of them had found a body, they all agreed that there was no way any of the people in that campsite could have survived.
As he rode back to town with the rest of the posse, the bandit from Billows cursed the deaths of the minstrels and the loss of the bounty money. Fate was definitely against him where those minstrels were concerned. Both times that he’d tangled with them, he’d lost. His only consolation was that fate had dealt them a far worse hand.
While he was brushing down his horse, he realized that he might still be able to turn a profit off the adventure, so he decided to pack up that afternoon and head out. If he was the first person to reach an officer in Brendolanth and report the death of the minstrels, Rolan might reward him for the news.
When he reached Billows late Saturday afternoon, he went straight to the town director’s inn and told him that he had spotted the minstrels while he was in Nandelia. “They didn’t look like minstrels anymore though. They looked more like farmers than anything else. Even their wagon had been disguised, but they weren’t smart enough to fool me, no, sir. You’ve got to get up pretty early in the morning to pull the wool over my eyes.”
“Where are they now?” the director asked.
“I knew you’d want to know where they were headed, so I got a couple of guys to help me follow them. After all, it was just me, and they’re all armed to the teeth.”
“And they’re in …” the director prompted.
“We didn’t catch up with them the first night. It took us a while to get things together and get out of town, and we didn’t want to get ahead of them, so we pulled up when it got dark and made camp. The next afternoon, we found where they pulled their wagons off the road and headed into the woods. Now the woods right there weren’t all that big, so we set up three camps. Between us and the river, we had them trapped, so we settled down for the night, planning to attack at first light.”
The director nodded. “Reasonable. So, did you turn them over to the district captain down there or did you bring them back here?”
“Well, the weirdest thing happened. Right as we were breaking camp at daybreak, a big storm blew up and the next thing we knew, this huge tornado dropped down out of the sky he
aded straight for us. We had to get out of there fast. Then, after the storm had passed, we rode into the woods to see what had happened to them. We found their campsite. Looked like they took a direct hit. The whole area was leveled, trees down, everything just plain gone. We did find a few things, some clothes, kitchen stuff, things like that, but all the people, horses, and wagons had been swept away. That big ol’ tornado just scooped them up and swallowed them.”
“Are you telling me that the minstrels are dead?” the director asked.
“Yes, sir, that’s exactly what I’m telling you. Thought you might want to let Rolan know so he can call off the hunt.”
The director’s face paled a little, but he nodded and said, “Yes, I’ll do that, and I’ll see that you get all the credit you deserve for your efforts.”
“Thank you, sir. Well, I guess I’d best be getting on home now,” the bandit said.
When the bandit got home, he told his wife about the minstrels, the chase, the tornado, and his meeting with the director. “I wouldn’t be surprised if I got some kind of reward from Rolan when he hears about this,” he bragged to his wife.
Instead of the praise he was expecting, she glared at him and yelled, “I don’t believe this! How could you be so stupid?”
“What?” he asked dumbfounded.
“Rolan’s going to blame you!”
“For what?!” he asked with a deep frown.
“If you hadn’t decided to wait around until daylight to attack, you’d have had them. Soldiers would be escorting them to Trendon right now, but no, you waited because you didn’t want to risk attacking at night, and now they’re dead. He’ll never get to question them and he’s going to blame you!” The whole time she was ranting she was pulling things out of the kitchen cabinets. “Bring the wagon around to the back door. Hurry!”
“Why?” he asked as he slowly got up from his chair.
“We’re leaving.”
“Leaving? What are you talking about?”
“Leaving here. At least the children and I are. You can do whatever you want, but I want to be out of here before Rolan decides to take it out on us that you lost those minstrels. You mark my words. When he hears about this, he’s going to send someone out here to get us, and I plan to be long gone before then, long gone, hopefully out of Brendolanth. Now move!”
Chapter 47
More Surprises
Before daybreak Saturday morning, Kevin floated the wagons and horses back across the Pooley River. According to their map, there was a small road that headed east when the main road followed the river as it turned north. By taking the small road, they could cut across the plains, and reach the Sandover River by Wednesday, saving themselves a couple of days.
Around mid-afternoon they came to the eastbound road and left the river for the first time in nearly two weeks. After a couple of miles, the road became little more than a narrow track through the prairie. There was no sign of any farmhouses or towns for as far as they could see, and since the only thing around them was prairie grass, they could see for quite a distance. By the time they set up camp Sunday evening, they were beginning to feel like they were the only people on the whole planet. They hadn’t seen another living soul for well over twenty-four hours. It was getting a little spooky.
Kevin and Chris had the third watch Sunday night, and shortly after they got up at 3:00, they heard Glendymere’s voice in their heads. “You’ve made good time. Where do you want your supplies? Next to the fire or closer to the wagons?”
“Close to the wagons. We won’t sort them until after daybreak,” Kevin said.
Glendymere lowered the supplies to the ground slowly, more slowly than the contents of the bundles warranted. “Any particular reason you decided to cut through Davenglen? Most humans tend to avoid the gnomes.”
“Gnomes?” Chris asked. “What are you talking about?”
“You know, short little people, maybe come up to your knees. The ones who live in this area. Didn’t you know you were traveling through their lands?”
“No, we had no idea. Are they dangerous?” Kevin asked as he nervously looked around to see if he could see anyone in the tall grasses surrounding their campsite.
Glendymere snorted a laugh and said, “Only to your supplies. Gnomes are basically thieves, although they don’t mean any harm. They take whatever appeals to them, but usually just small things, pretty things. Are any of you missing anything?”
“Well, now that you mention it, I couldn’t find the belt that Ashni made for me when I got dressed this morning, and I know I had it on yesterday. And I heard Joan say something about losing her headband and a big potholder. Is that the type of stuff they would take?” Kevin asked.
“Sounds just like them. Cute little things actually. I didn’t land because I was afraid I’d hurt one of them. You can’t see them unless they want to be seen.”
“Are there any around us?” Chris asked.
“Count on it. They live underground and travel from one section of Davenglen to another through tunnels. They could come into your camp and steal half of what you’ve got without you ever knowing that they’re there. They’re good at that.”
“They must be if they took my belt. It was in our tent, and we had someone on watch all night long,” Kevin said, still looking around to see if he could spot a gnome.
“Well, if I were you, I’d get through Davenglen as quickly as possible,” Glendymere said with a laugh.
“How far does Davenglen go? When will we be out?” Chris asked.
“You’ll be out by the time you reach the Sandover River. People who live around here could show you exactly where Davenglen ends. A small stream marks the boundary, but I doubt you’ll notice it, so assume you’re still in Davenglen until you cross the river,” Glendymere answered. “Now, tell me about your trip. Anything exciting happen?”
While Kevin told Glendymere about the bandit from Billows, Chris walked around the campsite, looking for any sign that anything had been disturbed. He climbed up in the back of each of the wagons, checking every place where a gnome might hide. When he had satisfied himself that there were no gnomes in the wagons, he circled around the tarps, looking for anything unusual. He finished his inspection about the same time that Kevin finished telling Glendymere about their trip.
“Don’t give up, Chris. I guarantee you that you’re being watched and studied as we speak, and I would be willing to bet that before daybreak, something will be lifted from your campsite, if it hasn’t already. It’s just a game to them so don’t do anything rash, like hurt one of the little fellows. They can get mean if they feel threatened.”
“I thought you said we weren’t in any danger from them,” Kevin said.
“You aren’t, as long as you don’t hurt one of them. Well, I’d better head back. See you in a couple of weeks.”
The next morning, Kevin and Chris told the others about the gnomes while they were eating breakfast. Theresa and Joan made a quick inventory of the kitchen supplies and herbs, Karl and Steve checked the furniture and tack for the horses, and Darrell checked the spare weapons. They found a few things missing, but the missing items were all small and relatively unimportant as far as their survival was concerned.
“The best thing we can do at this point is load up and try to get to the Sandover River as quickly as possible,” Karl said after they finished the search.
“I wonder if there was something on the map that we missed,” Steve said. He took out the map, spread it out on the ground, and looked at it carefully. There was no area called Davenglen, but there was a black dot where the eastbound road began. “I wonder if this dot here means anything. See? Here’s another dot near the Sandover River, about where our road should end. I wish I knew what the dots mean. They could mean gnomes, proceed at your own risk, danger ahead, or stay out of here at all costs. Next time it could be a lot worse,” Steve said as he pointed out the little marks.
“I saw those marks, but I thought they were specks of dirt
, so I didn’t worry about them,” Karl said. “Why didn’t Kalen warn us about things like that?”
“Probably because it never crossed his mind that we wouldn’t know,” Steve said with a sigh. Then he folded the map up and put it back in his cloak pocket.
“You’re probably right,” Joan said. “This isn’t one of those things that he neglected to mention because he thought it would make us revolt, like slavery or dragons. This is relatively minor, all things considered.”
“Well, if nothing else, it’s a good reminder that we’re in a strange place, surrounded by strange things,” Chris said.
“It’s easy to forget how different this world is,” Joan commented.
“We just spent eight months living with giants and a dragon. I wouldn’t call that exactly normal,” Karl said with a snort of laughter as he put his arm around his wife and hugged her. “But you’re right, Chris. We really don’t know what else might be out there. We need to be careful.” Then he mounted his horse and said, “Let’s get moving.”
~ ~ ~ ~
Monday and Tuesday nights the gnomes grabbed a few more incidentals, but none of the Tellurians caught a glimpse of them, although they were all even more vigilant than usual. It was a relief to reach the Sandover River Wednesday morning.
They crossed the river on a ferry, and traveled south along the river until late afternoon. Although they were still in grasslands, there were a few patches of woods scattered along the riverbanks, and they found an oval-shaped clearing surrounded by pine trees that looked like it had frequently been used as a campsite. There was enough room to set up a small corral for the horses in the north end of the oval, park the wagons around the fire pit in the south end, and set up their sleeping tarps in the middle. They finally managed to spend two nights in one campsite, giving the horses a much needed break.
The weather had been fairly good for the middle of the winter. They had run into a few snow showers, but the only significant snow was the one that Kevin had stirred up to cover their tracks. But a week after they crossed the Sandover River, the weather took a turn for the worse. That Wednesday a blast of frigid air out of the north plummeted temperatures. The harsh northwest wind buffeted them all day and shook the walls of the inn and stable they stayed in that night.
The Master's Chair (The Chronicles of Terah) Page 61