Madison crept back into the center of the trees and made himself as comfortable as he could, settling in to wait it out. He had a decent view of the encampment, so he’d know if anyone came in his direction and exactly when everyone went to sleep. He stripped off the filthy, stolen rags he was wearing and replaced them with his own. They were so awful that he didn’t even want to put them in with the rest of his things in his footlocker for fear of them contaminating everything else he had stored there, and he knew that he wasn't going to fool anyone from here on out. If someone found him, it wouldn’t really matter how he was dressed: he would be in for a fight one way or another at that point. When he was finished, he wrapped himself in a heavy cloak to ward off some of the damp weather, crouched down, and waited.
-----
Madison rose slowly in the predawn darkness and stretched his stiff legs, his cloak-covered form shrouded in a combination of mist that had arisen in the early hours of morning and darkness. He had spent the entire night watching the camp, and a better part of it had been spent crouched down behind the cluster of shrubs where he now stood.
Thankfully, everything had gone smoothly so far. No one had made a move to check on the guard down below, although the guards stationed around the perimeter changed for the first and only time a few hours back, around the same time everyone finally retreated to their bedrolls at some time around midnight. As far as he could tell, nothing significant had changed within the camp since then. He felt safe in his assumption now that they wouldn’t change again until morning. Aside from that, he was about as bored as he had ever been in his entire life. Watching people chat together when he couldn’t hear the conversation before drifting off one by one to fall asleep was bad enough, but at least it had given him something to do. After everyone had crawled into their bedrolls or moved into the tents for the night, all he could do was stare at the camp and watch the flames slowly die down.
Despite the knowledge that no one had stirred within the camp for hours, he still strained his eyes against the gloom hoping to detect if there had been any sort of change he might have missed. A light rain had begun again at some point, and the dark clouds that had been present for a full day now still clung to the sky as if their very existence somehow demanded it. As a result, the night remained a murky, black inkwell with only fleeting hints of faint moonlight that managed to break through the cloudbank on rare occasions. The only source of light, and the only reason he had been able to keep an eye on the sentries at all, was from the flickering flames cast from the two now-burnt-down fires at the center of the camp.
He eyed the closest sentry as he leaned forward and pressed his hands against the small of his back and slowly stretched. The man had been standing in the same spot hours, and he had moved only a very small amount during that time. The man was either the most vigilant sentry anyone had ever heard of, the prize of every commander’s eye, a man who was wholly dedicated to his job of protecting the camp and spying out intruders and other possible threats during the night, or he had absolutely fallen asleep on his feet as soon as he took over the watch. It was unlikely that his two small movements would have been spied out, and he was willing to bet that the other man was napping on the job as soundly as the one before him had been when his relief finally came.
Madison felt the familiar sense of tension as he weighed his options. He had already gathered enough information that he could safely retreat back to the bottom of the cliff and fill in Warren and Shayna on the details. He could call the night a success, however boring it might have been. If they followed the same pattern every night, and it was likely that they would, then they would have a fairly decent idea of where to expect the sentries to be stationed tomorrow as well. The only problem was the dead guard down below. Someone was sure to find him eventually, and while they might even assume that a careless step had led to his death in the middle of the night, there was a good chance that they would take extra precautions just in case.
In addition to the one man standing just off in front of him, there were also a handful of other lookouts he had spied out during the night that were sporadically spaced around the camp at random intervals in a loose ring. It was a common tactic that would have been sufficient in another scenario, but it might as well have been worthless right now. The moonless night and thick forest would allow almost anyone to sneak up on the camp undetected unless they were a blundering idiot, and he never would have known that they were out there at all if he hadn’t been watching when they left the light of the fires.
Tentatively, he gathered his heavy cloak about him and took half a step back away from the low-lying shrubbery that he had been hidden behind for so long. There was a soft crinkling of leaves and a wet-sounding crunch underneath his feet as he shifted his weight, but it didn’t seem to be enough to rouse the attention of the guard. After a long, tense moment with him holding his breath, he took another step back, followed by another, and then yet another. He scrutinized the dark shadow, looking for any sign that he might have been noticed. When there wasn’t any discernible movement, he relaxed a bit.
Madison couldn’t help but grin to himself as the unthinkable idea flitted through his head. He wasn’t some type of spy or thief or someone else who could just sneak up on people undetected, and he was far too large to be stealthy under most circumstances, but this was an opportunity that he just might not be able to pass up, no matter how much Shayna warned him against it. He had the information that he had come for: he knew the placement of the guards, the layout of the camp, and what schedule they used when they were changing watch. By all means, he should take it as a win, chalk it up as a successful mission, and escape undetected while he could. But, then, this was also an opportunity to cause a fair bit of mischief.
Madison stood frozen as he thought it out and weighed his options again, and then a grin spread across his face a moment later as he realized what he was going to do. He actually had to stop himself from laughing out loud as he imagined how Shayna would look if he came strolling back with Erin in tow.
He crept forward as swiftly as he could while making as little noise as possible. He shifted his weight as evenly as he could between his legs, and he even went so far as to try rolling his gait a bit to try and stifle the noise he made as he crunched a path out of the trees. Every step he took brought him closer to the sleeping guard and closer to the edge of cover, and slowly, after what felt like forever, he exited the edge of the wooded area and into the open. If he was going to be caught, this is when and where it would be.
Madison held his breath as he took his first step out into the open. When no cry of alarm came, and the heavy silence persisted, he rushed forward, practically gliding across the ground. His breathing became fast and shallow, though it wasn’t from exertion: the nervous energy he felt seemed to grow with each and every step he took. He knew exactly what was riding on his success, and he knew that he was taking a huge gamble just by being this bold.
At last, he reached the still form of the guard he had spent half the night watching. And he couldn’t believe it. The guard had actually managed to fall asleep while standing up. He was leaned forward slightly and propped on the butt of his spear, which had been driven into the ground, but he was sound asleep nonetheless. Madison slowly let out his breath and tried to calm the pounding of his heart, but it didn’t do any good. No matter how he tried, the sound of his blood pumping still thumped away in his ears in perfect sync with the rhythm of his heart.
He held still for one long last moment as he solidified the plan in his head. From this point forward, he was committed. There was no turning back. Then, almost as if he were shrugging to himself, he let his cloak fall open and silently drew the knife from his boot. He stepped forward a half-step, quickly closing the remaining distance between himself and the sleeping guard, and then reached around the butt of the spear. In one smooth movement, he drew the blade of the knife across the unconscious man’s throat. Flesh gave way under the pull of his blade, and blo
od boiled up from the wound and came pouring down the dead man’s chest.
The man’s eyes snapped open the moment the cold steel began slicing through his flesh, but there was nothing he could do to save himself at that point. He half-gargled, half-coughed a strange noise as he choked on his own blood before Madison could do anything to stop him. He quickly pressed his free hand against the man’s mouth to suppress any more noises from him and then leaned into the thin man as he slouched forward, catching him before he could hit the ground. The dead man’s armor creaked softly as pieces rubbed together under his collapsing weight, but Madison knew that it would only sound like the natural movement of a weary guard shuffling his feet to anyone who might have heard.
Madison kept his hand pressed against the man’s throat and stared down into the man’s face as he waited for him to die. He was a young man, most likely not even twenty yet, and something about his narrow facial features, large ears, and close-shaven black hair tugged at Madison’s memory. He stared down at him as the man died, trying to recall where he might have seen him before. He swept through the hazy memories surrounding his first few days in this world, the sailors aboard the pirate ship and the slavers who had captured him, but he couldn’t place the young man anywhere. Then it hit him: he clearly remembered this man holding Shayna’s arms behind her back while another pudgy-red-haired kid beat up on her.
Nicholas. His name is Nicholas.
The implications of what that meant hit him like a sack of rocks. Warren had been right: this was someone from K’yer Utane. But what is he doing all the way out here? And working with these people? Madison looked up at the camp as if seeing it in a new light. Who else was in there that I might recognize? This was one of Randall’s cronies, one of the people who jumped me from behind and blinded me with that awful, burning powder and beat me. This was one of the people who had tormented Shayna. How many others out of Randall’s group are in there? How many deadly fighters from K’yer Utane are here in this camp?
Madison quickly began stripping him of his chest piece. It was a bit more work than he anticipated since he had to work as surreptitiously as possible while rolling the man’s weighty body from side to side as he pried the armor from him, but he was able to make fairly-quick work of it. Once he was finished, he hung the pilfered piece of armor from the end of the spear and silently crept back toward the words. Someone was certain to notice Nicholas’ dead body once morning came. At that point, all hell would break loose as they tried to figure out what other damage had been done. Once that happened, they would also figure out that the other guard was dead and missing as well. A quick search at the bottom of the cliff would turn up the dead guard, but it wouldn’t look like anything other than an accident. A dead man with his throat slit was something different: that was an unmistakable cause for alarm. Until that time came, however, Madison was hoping that the effigy he had created with his armor and weapon would be enough to fool anyone glancing that way. He was more committed now than ever.
It was impossible to see the moon through the thick blanket of clouds, but he glanced upward as he entered the line of trees anyway. If my internal sense of time is correct, I only have a few hours until sunrise. If I’m lucky, this cloud cover will hold off the morning sun a little longer than normal and buy me some extra time . . .
He broke into a run once he was away from the forest and headed down the switchbacks, no longer having to worry about how much noise he made or the fear of being seen. He actually had to caution himself to be careful in a few places not to lose his balance. It wouldn’t do him or anyone else any good if he stumbled and fell because he was in too much of a hurry, and the trail was almost as dangerously narrow here as it had been in places below. One mistake, and he’d be careening down head over heels until he reached the bottom.
About a quarter of the way down, he skidded to a halt and carefully trod his way out onto the rocky outcrop. He had known it was the perfect place to position a scout when he saw it earlier, and he was going to use it for a similar purpose now. He held out his hand and materialized one of the small, smokeless torches that he had become accustomed to summoning up whenever he needed light. It flared to life in his hand a moment later, and Madison casually tossed it off the edge of the cliff. He materialized a second one a moment later and repeated the process, sending it off into the dark just as quickly as he could.
The reason this was such a wonderful place to keep a lookout was because it afforded a view of everything below. Even a careless soldier who was concealed there could spy out a group before they were able to make it up. The same, however, was also true of anyone looking up from down below. If someone was stupid enough to make themselves visible, by creating light on a pitch-black night, for example, it would definitely be noticeable—and he was counting on it.
He turned and began retracing his steps back up the side of the cliff—not that it was very hard to follow the only route up—and it wasn’t long before he was puffing his way back toward the edge of the camp. He might have taken his time when he made the ascent before, but he needed every bit of speed he could muster up now. He knew that the effects of the Rush were still working in his system as well by how easily he was able to do it: not only was he still wide awake and alert, but he easily covered the uphill portion without so much as breaking a sweat. The memory of running from the slavers after he had first appeared in this world flashed through his head for a moment. He could still very much remember the feeling of panic, the adrenaline, and the desperate need to get away. He would have been winded and out of breath from such a run before, but now he was able to draw in strong breaths and continue pushing his muscles forward beyond the point where they would have normally failed.
Once he approached the edge of the clearing, he slowed his pace once again. The entire process had only taken around fifteen minutes, and he was fairly certain that no one would have found the dead guard. Still, he wasn’t willing to risk his life on it, so he forced himself to move slowly and cautiously. He crouch-walked past the corpse as stealthily as he could and then pushed ahead toward the edge of the camp.
Suppressing a grin, he stood upright and pulled his cloak tighter around him as he approached the camp and forced himself to maintain as even a pace as possible. If anyone saw him, he wanted them to think that he belonged there—that he was someone who had just woken up during the night with the need to relieve himself and was only returning to the camp. Every step took him closer, and despite the paced, measured strides he took, he felt the nerves in his stomach starting to bundle up in anticipation again.
Both of the fires had long-since died down to a low blaze that was little more than embers, yet they each still provided enough light to illuminate the bodies strewn out around them. There wasn’t enough light for him to pick out who each person was individually, but it was enough to see by. He stepped around the first sleeping body just on the outer perimeter of the camp. The first man was stretched out on his side and snoring softly. Madison stared down at the man’s face as hard as he could as he passed, but he couldn’t make out enough facial features in the dark to tell if it was someone he recognized—not that it really would have mattered much anyway. Despite the amount of time he had spent with most of the people at K’yer Utane, he actually knew very little about any of them. He had brushed past them in the halls and on the lawn numerous times, but he had never spoken to more than a handful. Most of his time had been spent in either the infirmary or in the testing room, and he wasn’t certain he’d recognize someone from K’yer Utane just by sight alone. At best, he was going to have to rely on the way they were dressed in order to set them apart from the bandits.
A soft wind picked up just then, blowing a pillar of smoke from the closest dying fire in his direction. He covered his face and turned his head away from the black cloud just as he stepped out of the shadows and into the dim light cast by the waning flames, helping to conceal his face just in case someone was still watching and hadn’t taken action yet.
He stepped around several prone bodies as he made his way to the center of the camp and stopped just shy of the center.
The two largest tents were both erected side by side on the right of the camp, and each positioned in front of a separate firepit. Even from up close, he couldn’t distinguish anything that might set one apart from the other. In essence, they were nothing more than heavy drab canvases erected on simple, lightweight frames that were completely devoid of any markings. They were just tall enough that he would only have to slightly duck his head a bit once he was inside, but they were long enough to comfortably accommodate several people if they were stretched out and asleep. The only real difference was their occupants: the group of men he had seen sitting around one earlier was inside one, and he had no clue who or what was in the other.
Madison sighed to himself and shook his head as he studied the two tents. If he went inside the first one, there was a good chance he might be able to take out a few while they were asleep if he was quiet about doing it. There was also a good chance that someone might wake up and scream out as well, and then that would be the end of him. As much as he wanted to make sure that they couldn’t give chase once he had Erin, he had to be smart about it.
Then, making his decision, he moved to the second one, threw the flap back, and ducked inside. There was a rustling of noise to his left as someone rolled over as he entered, and he immediately threw himself down onto them. There was a sharp gasp, the faintest beginnings of a squeal as he wrestled with them, and then his hand clamped down over the young woman’s mouth, cutting her off just before she started to scream.
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