by Adam Carter
“It’ll be dark soon,” Valok said, glancing at the sky as though he was making some prophetic announcement only a sorcerer could reveal. “We’ll have to find somewhere to make camp.”
“Have a nice sleep while the captain’s being tortured to death? We march on through the night, Valok.”
“If we do that we could miss vital clues.”
“Vital clues? You mean like a trail of breadcrumbs?”
“Arno, we’re both worried about her, so don’t come down on me about it.”
Canlin knew he was right, but until Wren was located it was Canlin who was in charge. Of course, if Valok did not agree with him there was nothing Canlin could do to stop the magician going off to do his own thing, but Valok knew his duty. They would stick together and they would find the captain.
“Sergeant,” a young soldier said excitedly. “Over here.”
Canlin and Valok both hurried over to where the young woman was eagerly waiting. They had arrived some time earlier at the ruins of an old fortress, fallen long ago to the baroness’s bombardment. Canlin’s hopes rose that his soldier had found something amongst the rubble. Looking about, they could see nothing but an old well, blocked by a heavy stone. “What is it, Mannin?” Canlin asked.
She was pointing to the ground. There was nothing there, so far as Canlin could see. “What am I looking at?”
“The twigs, sir.”
Canlin could see the twigs; he could also see the grass and the dirt but had paid them no greater mind. “What about them?”
“They’re pointing north.”
“No, they’re just twigs.” He placed a foot on them and pushed them into the dirt.
“They were pointing north,” Mannin said, her voice falling slightly.
“What’s this well? You and you, get this cover off.”
“Sir,” Mannin protested as soldiers moved to undo the clasps. “Sir, it was an arrow.”
“Mannin, stop bothering me.” He wanted to find Wren, but seeing symbols everywhere was not going to help any. Mannin obviously wanted to find the captain equally as badly, but he did not regret shooting down her hopes when they were so unfounded.
“Sergeant,” Valok said, approaching from the north. Canlin had not even seen him wander off. “I’ve found another.”
“Another what? We haven’t found anything here yet.”
“Another arrow.”
Canlin stared at him, stopped himself from shouting. One set of twigs in the rough shape of an arrow was wishful thinking: finding two one after another was a trail of breadcrumbs after all.
“Stop with that well,” Canlin said just as the soldiers were struggling with the final clasps. He hastened to where Valok had found the second arrow, his heart racing as he confirmed it was indeed what they all wanted it to be. He stared north but there was nothing in that direction save hills and trees. It was not the route that held his interest, however, but the arrows themselves.
“She’s not a prisoner,” Valok spoke his thoughts for him. “Whatever she’s doing, whoever she’s with, she’s free. My guess is she escaped and she’s tracking them. She knew to come back for us would have lost their trail, so she’s left us this so we can catch up to her.”
“Or she didn’t leave the arrows,” Mannin said.
Canlin and Valok both stared at her and she hastily lowered her eyes.
“She’s right,” Valok said. “Unfortunately. This could well be a trap.”
“Or it could be precisely what we want it to be,” Canlin said. “I choose that option. Mannin, make yourself useful and tell the soldiers to make camp.”
“Make camp?” Valok asked in surprise. “But we have a trail now.”
“And you’re right: if we follow it through the night we’re going to miss arrows. Walking past even one would mean the loss of precious time. It’s better for the regiment to rest and continue refreshed in the morning. At first light we march and do not stop until we find the captain. That way we’ll be moving far faster than Moya and her band.”
“Even after all our years together, Arno, you can still impress me.” He clapped a hand upon the sergeant’s shoulder and moved off to pitch his own tent.
The decision had been difficult, but it was the right one. Canlin knew if Wren could see him now she would approve. Maybe she would even be a little impressed. Once he rescued her, he could modestly tell her everything he had done to save her life. Then she really would be impressed.
He shook such thoughts from his head. There was no reason for him to want her to be impressed with him. She was his captain, and he served as her sergeant. He was doing this to save the life of his direct superior, there was no other reason.
Still, if she was impressed, he wouldn’t mind at all.
Night fell quickly. The soldiers worked well to set up a rotating perimeter watch, and since Canlin was finding it so difficult to sleep he decided to join them. Wren always encouraged him to show the troops he considered himself one of them, and it was one of the many things upon which they could agree. In Canlin’s experience, soldiers who respected their commanders as well as feared them would be willing to do far more. They would fight harder, march longer and, most importantly, not question commands. They would also be more inclined to help their wounded superiors out of the field of battle if necessary.
There was silence about the camp as Canlin patrolled. There were also no fires lit, for Wren did not like to make her people a target. If the patrols did not carry lanterns they would more easily be able to see the approach of enemies who did carry them; and if those enemies also did not have light they were all on an equal footing. The darkness also sought to hide the true size of the sleeping army, and thus their strength.
He nodded to a soldier he passed, neither of them saying a word. In an hour or so it would be dawn and the regiment could set off. He had told Valok they would not stop until they found their captain, but in reality they could only march until the following nightfall. He had a terrible feeling, however, that if they had failed to locate their missing captain by then, it would be too late to do anything save avenge her.
Canlin found himself back at the well and gazed out across the world. There was nothing out there, no threats, no danger. Everything was peaceful and silent; but Canlin did not for one moment let down his guard. Anything could still happen, especially with foes as dangerous as Moya and her crew.
He noticed something then. It was not a movement, not even anything alive. It was the well, directly before him, beneath his very nose. The clasps on the lid were undone, which was strange since he thought he had seen his soldiers fix them back down. Slowly he walked the circumference of the well and found that indeed every single clasp was undone. The soldiers had not managed to get it entirely off before being ordered to leave it, so there was little chance they would have been able to get them all undone and not do any of them back up.
What this meant, Canlin could not say, but he found a collection of large rocks from the fallen fortress and settled down to wait and to watch.
It was only a few minutes before there was motion, which surprised Canlin because he had only half believed his own reasoning. The lid stirred of its own volition: he could see nothing beside the well which might be moving it. Canlin did not believe in ghosts, but as he watched the lid shake he began to believe in anything if it would mean getting Captain Wren back.
Slowly, the lid slid to one side and a sinuous form slunk out of the pit. Canlin found his heart beating once again as he realised there were no ghosts about the well at all; whatever was moving the lid had been inside the thing.
In the darkness it was difficult to be certain of what he was looking at. The being was thin and tall, with smooth green scales covering its skin. It also seemed to be wearing fine silk. As the creature set foot upon the ground and carefully replaced the lid, Canlin recognised it for what it was.
A bipedal snake man the world knew as apepkith.
Not allowing himself a moment’s thought,
Canlin drew his sword and dagger and threw himself at the creature. “To arms! To arms!”
The apepkith span, surprise locked upon its face. Canlin was upon it in moments, his sword slicing the air where it had been. The creature moved so swiftly, so gracefully, that even Canlin’s second swing missed it entirely, as did his third. His enthusiasm at the chance of catching something which might lead him to Wren was burning up his energy, but his adrenalin pumped so furiously it made no difference.
The apepkith drew his own blade – a foot-long sickle – and dropped into a crouch.
“You’re him, aren’t you?” Canlin asked excitedly. “Asperathes.”
“You should let me go, Sergeant. It would be entirely in your best interests.”
Shouting was coming from the camp by this point and Canlin could see several soldiers already heading his way. Pushing his way to their head was Valok, naked from the waist up and still looking half asleep.
“Surrender,” Canlin told his foe. “It’ll go easier on you.”
Asperathes shook his head. “We’re wasting time.”
Canlin lunged for him, his sword slashing horizontally, but the snake man leaped back so the blade passed him by harmlessly. The sergeant twisted to stab down with his knife, but Asperathes blocked the assault with his sickle, spinning to throw the man off-balance. He attempted to flee, but Canlin threw himself at him, tackling him about the legs and sending them both tumbling.
Asperathes hissed as he pounded Canlin’s arms and face with his fists – all their weapons had been dropped somewhere – but Canlin was holding steadfastly on.
“Fool!” Asperathes said. “I’m your only chance at you seeing your captain alive again.”
That was such a strange statement that for a single instant Canlin froze, and Asperathes seized the opportunity to squirm out of his grasp. Realising his folly, Canlin struggled to keep hold of his foe, but the snake man’s skin was coming off in his hands, so that Canlin was left rolling around on the ground with nothing but the husk of Asperathes’s leg.
Light exploded through the darkness and the apepkith shrieked as something tore through his back. He fell forward, landing on his face in a smouldering heap.
Canlin struggled back to his feet, shaking off all hands offering him help, his eyes upon the unmoving body. “You killed him.”
“He’s not dead,” Valok said.
“You roasted him.”
“The light was just to guide the bolt. It was a concentrated bio-electrical shock designed to agitate the …”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Canlin cut him off and began assigning soldiers. “I want him bound with so much rope not even his eyes could shed and slip away. Valok, don’t leave his side. If he wakes up and tries something, blow off his legs. Keep him from escaping, but he does not die. Do I make myself clear?”
“You think he was telling the truth?” Valok asked as the soldiers moved to obey. “You think he can lead us to Captain Wren?”
“I think it’s worth a shot hearing what he has to say.”
Canlin watched as the soldiers bound their prisoner. If he did not like what the snake man had to say, they had lost nothing but time. Whatever happened, after ten years they had at last captured one of their prey. Canlin should have been happier, but all he could think of was how Wren was not here to enjoy it with him.
If Asperathes could not give them Wren, Canlin vowed to kill the snake himself.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It was morning by the time the apepkith awakened. Canlin had kept a careful watch upon him while his scouts had scoured the area for signs of the others. A check of the well had revealed some interesting results, but he wanted to wait until Asperathes was awake before drawing any conclusions. Valok had refused to leave the apepkith’s side and Mannin had been sent to fetch the man’s shirt. Even unconscious, the threat Asperathes posed should not be disregarded, Valok had said, and seldom did he even take his eyes from the prisoner. Canlin had assigned Mannin to remain with him in order to run whatever errands he required. This freed up some of the sergeant’s time to consult with his troops, although he spent as little time away as possible.
Valok was worried. Canlin had seldom seen Valok worried. It was not a pleasant sight.
Eventually, though, Asperathes stirred. Valok and Mannin both tensed visibly and Canlin forced himself to relax. They were holding the prisoner in a section of the fallen fortress. It had three walls, mostly intact, and no easy escape route for a bound snake man.
As he awoke, Asperathes assimilated his surroundings, taking in each of his gaolers separately. There was no panic to his eyes, no emotion at all in fact. He was calmly assessing them, and that was the thing which caused Canlin the greatest concern.
“Took you long enough to catch me,” Asperathes said. “Ten years is a long time to be running.”
“For your species,” Canlin replied as casually as he could, “a decade is nothing.”
“Even for my species a decade is still ten years.”
If the prisoner was trying to make a philosophical point, Canlin was not interested.
“Where’s Captain Wren?”
“I don’t know. But,” he added when he could see Canlin was about to tell him he was of no use then, “I can find her.”
“How?”
“What do you know about me?”
“What do I know?” Canlin asked. “You’re a wanted criminal, you’re an apepkith who belongs to high society but who consorts with human criminals.”
“And what else?”
“There are rumours you were a bounty hunter at one time, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“A bounty hunter,” Asperathes said. “And a very good one, at that. Those arrows you found? I found them too. Even the one you ground into the dirt. They make tracking easier, don’t they?”
“So easy,” said Canlin, “we don’t need you.”
“How did you get to the arrows?”
Canlin exchanged a glance with Valok. “Mannin here found the first one, Valok the second. Why?”
“I didn’t mean who found them. I meant why did you come here? To this dismal skeleton of a once-great castle.”
“We were searching for Captain Wren, and this was in the area.”
“So you got lucky?”
Canlin narrowed his eyes. “Your point?”
“I didn’t just get lucky. I’ve been tracking Crenshaw for a few days now. You do know that name, I take it? Anyway, the spoor led me here, which is where I picked up the trail of your Captain Wren as well.” He paused. “Am I telling you something new by saying they’re travelling together?”
“Crenshaw?” Valok asked. “But what about Moya?”
“Moya? I haven’t seen Moya in a long while, I’m afraid. If you’re after Moya you’re going to have to ask one of her friends. Oh, wait, she doesn’t have any on account of her being such a cow.”
“Moya’s your friend,” Canlin said.
“Was, perhaps, a long time ago. If you want the truth we never liked one another. It was Crenshaw who insisted on keeping her around, two humans together and all.”
“So you were sad they pushed you away so they could be together? You know what a gooseberry is, Asperathes?”
“It wasn’t like that. Hold on, yes it was like that. But there was more to it than just what you’re suggesting.”
“What?”
“I don’t know exactly. I never found out. Moya was after more than she had, more than any of us had. She was a crafty one and I didn’t see it in time. Oh, I warned Crenshaw about her from the very beginning. I knew there was something wrong about her, something I didn’t like. As I said, I never did find out precisely what she wanted, but whatever it was I hope she choked on it.”
“We’re tracking her.”
Asperathes lost some of his cocky calmness, but only for a moment. “What do you mean?”
“Moya took Captain Wren. It has nothing to do with Crenshaw; we didn’t even know h
e was in the area. Until you told us, that is.”
Asperathes released a low hiss.
“Now we have your betrayal out of the way,” Canlin continued in a lighter tone, “what say you tell us what you were doing down that oubliette?”
“Searching for clues, obviously. There are people down there, trapped. Crenshaw’s trail led to that pit, as did your Captain Wren’s. I found evidence they had escaped, but wanted to question those still within the pit.”
“What did you learn from them?”
“Nothing. They told me the names of the people I was searching for, which I already knew. Then I cast a spell of forgetfulness over the lot of them so they wouldn’t be able to betray me.”
“That was why they didn’t tell us anything,” Canlin said. “I thought it was strange not one of them said anything about you.”
“Do you feel guilty now,” Valok asked, “for slaughtering them all?”
“Not at all. They were all unwashed scum.”
“Why,” Asperathes asked, “am I not surprised you killed them all instead of waiting for me to wake up?”
“Better question,” Valok said, “how did you use a spell of forgetfulness? I don’t sense a magical aura about you.”
“I dabble as a hobby,” Asperathes said. “How I manage it … I forget.”
“If you want to hear something really funny,” Canlin said, “how about the time of your execution?”
“You won’t kill me.”
“Why? Because we need your help to find the captain?”
“Because you care more about Wren being alive than me being dead.”
Silence hung upon the group while Canlin tried to think of a witty rejoinder and utterly failed. He did not know the extent of the apepkith’s spells, but he was certainly good at reading people. “How far ahead are they?” he asked.
“About a day, I think. We could catch them before dark if we follow the correct route.”
Canlin was about to deliver a retort, but Valok indicated with a nod that he wanted a word. “Watch him,” Canlin told Mannin. “He even looks as though he’s going to escape, stick him with your sword. Pin him to the ground like a vampire trying to escape his grave.”