D&D - Mystara - Penhaligon Trilogy 02

by The Dragon's Tomb - Heinrich, D. J (v1. 1)

  The seven animals cantered down the narrow road leading to one of Penhaligon’s lesser gates. There were few people around at that early hour, and Jo was sharply reminded of the last time she had made such an exit; Flinn had stopped her to show her the rising sun split by the Craven Sisters. Jo now looked eastward and saw the two pointed hills, but the sun was not yet ready to rise. Another time, she thought. Another time to see again the beautiful split sun that gives the casde its name.

  Jo turned Carsig north along the Duke’s Road and gave the gelding free rein. He broke into a long, loping canter, a pace that could eat the miles away while the terrain remained smooth.

  There was no suitable ford for miles around, and Jo wasn’t about to travel southward to the nearest one at Kelvin. No, they’d try crossing a few miles north of Penhaligon wThere the River Hillfollowr widened out. Sir Graybow suggested the route, though he cautioned Jo. The spring rains were likely to have swollen the river’s banks, and the current might be too strong. But they had to cross the Hillfollow somehow.

  The chill darkness of early dawn gave way to warmth as the sun rose. Thankfully, the sky revealed no clouds. A flock of birds, cackling noisily, rose from nearby trees as Carsig clattered by. Startled, Jo heard a similar cry from behind her. She turned in her saddle to look at Karleah. The old wizardess was intent on the departing birds, and every now and then she opened her mouth and cackled in an excellent imitation. Jo smiled and turned her attention back to the road ahead. She shook her head and thought, Karleah is a funny, strange woman, but I’m glad to count her as a friend.

  Jo glanced behind her again, checking on her comrades. A few lengths separated each person, just as she had instructed. Once again Sir Graybow7 s warning about bandits attacking travelers echoed through Jo’s mind. Not unlike the gangs infesting Specularum. Jo thought and shuddered. She’d had enough of gangs to last a lifetime.

  The fair weather and easy road made for excellent progress. It was only midmorning wThen Jo turned off the road and headed due west, toward the river ford. It’s a good thing Sir Graybow made me memorize so much of the map, Jo thought as she urged Carsig through the spring undergrowth. I would have passed right by the three dead elms otherwise.

  Water glistened just ahead. The land that sloped down to the river was not as flat as it had been around the Hillfollow when Jo and Braddoc had traveled south to Kelvin. Knotted roots and grassy hillocks stood in thick clumps along the ground.

  Approaching the bank, Carsig slipped on the soft spring soil, the earth saturated with rain and wet leaves. Jo gripped the reins firmly, giving the gelding just enough leather to recover. When he regained his footing, Jo pulled him to a stop. She turned around and yelled back to Karleah, who was following at some distance, “Karleah! Dismount; the ways not safe. Pass it on!”

  Jo lightly jumped off Carsig, her own booted feet slipping as she landed on the slick earth. She grabbed her saddle to keep from falling, while her feet shuffled underneath her. Carsig turned his head to look at the squire and nickered at her. “Yes, yes, I hear you,” Jo responded aloud. She held out her hand and added, “I’m off, aren’t I?” Carsig nibbled her fingers, and then wheezed in disgust when he found no treat. Jo fished a carrot from her pocket and said, “All right, all right!” The gelding turned his head back to Jo and then delicately took the proffered carrot.

  “What’s it like ahead, Jo?” Karleah asked as she led her gray mare down the narrow path Carsig had taken.

  “Not so good,” the squire responded. Jo grabbed the gelding’s reins and started to walk. The water lay less than a hundred yards away, but getting there was going to take some doing. The trees here—mostly willow and cottonwood—grew thick and tangled along the riverbank. Roots twisted above the soil line, and Jo saw signs of high water having flooded the land in the past. She led the big gelding down the straightest and safest path between the trees. She took care to get out of Carsig’s way whenever the horse slipped. Johauna had been stepped on by a horse once at the hostler’s, and the experience was not one she would willingly repeat.

  Jo panted with her exertions. The sun was hot and high in the sky, and the spring leaves on the willows didn’t entirely filter it away. Occasionally Jo had to struggle to keep her own footing, and sometimes she had to force the gelding down the route she had chosen. They drew closer to the water.

  In front of them lay a wide depression, and just beyond it a border of marshy river plants. Jo looked behind her and saw that the others wrere slowly winding their wav down the embankment. She called back to Karleah and pointed to the depression, “Let’s hold up there, Karleah, and wait for the others. There’s enough room to meet up and plan our crossing.” Jo stepped forward, guiding Carsig carefully over the tangled roots of a willow.

  A layer of old leaves covered the ground beyond. Overhead arched tree boughs with dark, wet bark and long, probing branches. Sunlight streamed into the large open space and invited Jo forward. She and Carsig took a few steps into the depression.

  They sank immediately to their knees.

  Jo looked down in dismay. “Oh, well,” she murmured. “Live and learn, Carsig. Come on, we’ll turn around and get out of this mess.” She clucked her tongue and pulled on Carsig’s rein, then tried to lift her leg to turn around. She couldn’t. The shiny black mud beneath the deceptive layers of leaves held her legs firmly. Jo locked her hands behind one knee and lifted. Slowly, her leg pulled free from the mud encasing it. With a final schlupp! her leg came loose and Jo had the good sense to not set it down. She leaned against Carsig for support, and the gelding responded with a snort.

  Karleah stopped on the edge of the sinkhole and cackled.

  “You’re in a situation, if I may say so,” she chortled.

  “You may, and you did,” Jo answered with pretended frost. “Now help me out of here before I sink any deeper!” Karleah found some short pieces of old fallen wood she could dislodge and carry. She brought them to the sinkhole and threw them toward Jo. The squire caught the wet logs one by one and grimaced as a spray of mud and sow- bugs hit her in the face. “Thanks, Karleah,” she said wryly as she began arranging a platform to stand on.

  Tentatively Jo put her loose, mud-caked leg on the platform. She shifted her weight and was pleased to see that, though the logs sank slightly, they looked as if they’d hold her up. “Okay,” Jo muttered to herself while Karleah collected more wood for another step. “Brace yourself. You need to do this right the first time.”

  Jo pushed off Carsig, at the same time shifting her weight heavily forward onto the platform. With the same reluctant noises coming from the ground as before, Jo withdrew her leg. She stood on the platform and panted, caked with mud. A stray sowbug climbed onto her waist, and she flicked it away.

  “I take it a city girl like you isn’t aware of sinkholes,” a voice rang out.

  Jo look up, flustered. The words had come from Brisbois, still mounted on his piebald mare. The man’s voice made Jo’s teeth grate. Jo caught the wood Karleah threw to her and prepared for her next step before she spoke. “That’s enough, Karleah,” Jo said, then turned to Brisbois. She looked directly into his insolent eyes. “I’ll thank you, Sir Brisbois, to kindly turn your attentions elsewhere.” “Such as to helping your horse escape your . . . miscalculation?” Brisbois quipped. He turned and smiled at Braddoc and Dayin as the two rode up.

  Jo chose to ignore his comment. Gathering herself, she leaped to the next platform. She slipped and almost lost her balance as one log sank beneath her foot. She took the next jump immediately, landed at the edge of the sinkhole, and scrambled upward onto safer ground. She spun around and sat on the wet ground. Carsig turned his head, looked at her, and nickered in distress.

  “I know, Carsig, I know,” Jo told the gelding while she caught her breath. “We’ll get you out somehow.” With a nearby stick Jo began scraping the layer of mud off her legs. The river will wash this off, thankfully, Jo said to herself,

  “How are we going to get Carsig
loose?” Dayin asked. “I think he’s sinking.”

  Jo stared at the gelding. Sure enough, the horse seemed to have sunk. “Carsig!” she called. The animal turned his head toward his mistress and whickered.

  Braddoc pulled two ropes off Fernlover’s pack and handed one to Brisbois. Quickly the two men began tying them into lariats. They slowly twirled the ropes overhead and threw them at Carsig’s neck. Brisbois missed, but Braddoc’s toss landed on target. Carsig groaned indignantly. At Jo’s congratulatory smile, Braddoc smiled and said, “Comes from years of practice at rounding up ponies.” Brisbois snorted and threw his rope again; this time it caught. Jo averted her eyes from the knight and said nothing.

  The man and dwarf pulled in tandem while Jo called coaxingly to Carsig. The ropes tightened around the gelding’s neck, and the horse whinnied fearfully. Carsig’s roan haunches rippled with effort as he struggled to move in the quagmire. On the bank, Braddoc and Brisbois strained against the ropes, but not enough to hurt the horse’s neck.

  “Come on, Carsig! Come on, boy, you can do it!” Jo shouted. She held out the stubble of a carrot; beside her, Dayin waved some succulent grasses. Carsig heaved once more, his back arching as if trying to buck away from the clawing mud. For a moment it looked as if the gelding would pull free; his front hooves surfaced to the sounds of wet mud smacking. Jo cheered, and Braddoc and Brisbois strained harder against the ropes.

  Carsig twisted and turned, his hooves coming down in the mud. He tried frantically to maintain his momentum, but his rear haunches would not move in the mire. The gelding thrashed about, his front hooves clawing at the mud as he tried desperately to free himself. Braddoc and Brisbois threw their weight farther back and the ropes tightened about the horse’s neck, but even their combined strength couldn’t budge the horse. Jo began to call out again, but the words faltered. Her eyes were locked on the struggling horse, her ears hearing only his throaty rattle as he tried to whinny. Carsig’s throat had grown raw from rope burns as he threw his head forward and back.

  Stomping over to the men, Jo threw her weight against the rope and cried, “Now!” It was their last chance, Jo was sure. She, Braddoc, and Brisbois strained against the rope, while the gelding screamed. He arched his back, churning the mud between his hind legs. With a fierce kick, Carsig toppled sideways, his legs pulling free. He thrashed his way through the mud and onto the firmer ground surrounding the sinkhole. With a last, shuddering pull, Jo and the others hauled the filthy, shaking horse out of the mud.

  Carsig stood before Jo, his entire body quivering with fatigue and terror. After assuring that the horse would not suddenly bolt, Jo removed the two ropes from his neck and inspected the rope burns. The rope had dug deeply into the horses neck, but Carsig would recover. Next Jo inspected the creature’s legs to see if he had pulled any muscles or torn any joints. Jo breathed a sigh of relief. The Immortals must have been smiling on them: the horse’s shivering legs were free of the knots of muscle that indicated a pull.

  Brisbois rewound the ropes and sauntered over to Jo. He said without inflection, “It’s good we were here to help you. I don’t think you’d have gotten Falar out without us.”

  Jo’s lips pursed. She said tightly, not bothering to look up at the tall knight as she checked the gelding’s last leg, “His name now is Carsig.” Carsig was the name of the hostler she had worked for in Specularum, a harsh and serious man, but one who knew horses—and had gained Jo’s respect because of it. But, truth be told, she had named the horse after him not only to honor her former employer, but also so that she could order “Master” Carsig about. Johauna bit her lip and then added, “And I never would have gone into the sinkhole if I had been traveling alone.”

  Brisbois snorted and turned back to his own horse. Karleah and Dayin stood nearby, the boy supporting the old woman. Jo stood and looked at the wizardess. Karleah s face was pale and strained with fatigue, and she held one arm close to her side.

  “Karleah . . . ?” Jo began.

  The crone held up a hand and shook her head. “I’ll be all right. I’m just not used to witnessing such trials of nature anymore,” Karleah said wryly. She threw a quick glance at Dayin and added, “Though I don’t mind a good rabbit hunt now and again ” She and the boy broke into laughter, and Jo smiled in return, though she didn’t know why they were laughing.

  Jo grabbed Carsig’s reins and said, “The river’s just beyond those trees. I think Carsig can make it. We’ll ford the river and see how much farther we can get tonight.” Jo paused and added thoughtfully, meeting the eyes of everyone but Brisbois, “It’s up to us to stop that box from reaching Armstead, my friends.”

  The squire turned and led Carsig the remaining distance to the river, and the others fell in behind her. They were approaching the marsh edge, where the ground sloped farther to the river. As they moved forward, wading into the water, cattails and saw grass snapped and bit at them, cutting their legs. Hillocks of grass rose up from the murky water, which grew progressively deeper. Jo grimaced. The water was up to her waist already, and still the river was a long stone’s throw ahead. The expanse of marsh they were traversing had seemed such a short distance before they entered it. Jo looked ahead, trying to ignore the increasing grumbles of discontent behind her. Sunlight twinkled brightly off the water and almost blinded her. In the midst of the shimmering rays, though, Jo could see a sudden cloud of darkness rise up from the water.

  Jo’s eyes grew wide as she watched the cloud lift from the water and move with frightening speed toward her. “Mosquitoes!” she shouted, only moments before the horde descended on her and Carsig.

  The air turned to night. Jo swatted left and right, splashing water on herself and the gelding; the insects stung and bit at Jo’s exposed skin and even through her clothing. She flung about furiously, trying to shake the stinging beasts. Beside her, Carsig flung his head back and forth and swung his tail. His sharp teeth snapped at the insects biting his hide.

  “Jo! Jo!” Someone reached through the curtain of insects.

  “Jo!” It was Karleah, behind her in the marsh. Jo swatted her tormentors and looked toward the old wizardess. She was waving her hands forward. “Go, go! The rivers slow enough! Keep moving!”

  The squire grabbed Carsig’s reins and threw an arm over her face, then stepped forward. All around her buzzed the mosquitoes, stinging her ears, crawling through her hair, and biting her lips and eyelids. Jo couldn’t take it any more. She bolted forward and began a sort of swimming stroke by using the saw grass and cattails to pull herself along. Carsig, beside her, was floundering, but the gelding had the same intention as Jo.

  Jo saw that only three more hillocks of saw grass stood between her and the open river, and the sky above her lightened as she reached the edge of the mosquito swarm. Jo floundered a few more steps, then caught the side of her saddle. With supreme effort, she hauled herself up out of the water and into the saddle. Carsig struck out in a slow paddle across the wide, smooth waters.

  Jo called back to Karleah, who was just entering the river on her gray mare, “Keep going! The river’s clear!” She looked ahead of her at the w'ide expanse of river. The waters here were sluggish, despite the spring rains, and by some miracle, the insects were not following.

  Suddenly Jo’s flesh crawled. The squire’s eyes grew wide with horror and disgust. Her free hand crept beneath the hem of her chemise. She slid her hand along her skin toward the faint, tickling sensation at her side. Her fingers touched something soft and slimy, and she jerked them away reflexively Steeling herself, Jo reached back into her clothing and pulled loose a six-inch-long leech before it could firmly latch onto her.

  Shuddering deeply, Jo threw the thing as far downstream as she could. She heard the leech land with a plop, and an instant later another gulp announced that a fish had found a meal. Jo smiled in vengeful disgust. Then her smile turned to a painful scowl. She felt a second leech, then a third, move inside her clothing. There was no way she could remove them now, no
t in midriver. Jo shuddered again and lay close to Carsig, seeking solace in the gelding’s strong back and trying desperately to ignore the crawling of her skin.

  The Hillfollow was bright and wide and slow. The big gelding swam with sure strokes, heading always for the opposite bank. Jo looked down at Carsig’s surging forehooves and saw a leech streaming away from the horse’s side. She wanted to pull the thing away immediately, but held back. The head would likely detach and infest the horse. No, they’d have to wait until they reached the shore before Jo could rid her and Carsig of the bloodsuckers.

  Jo looked behind her. She smiled. Her comrades were spread out behind her like a small flotilla. She waved encouragingly at Karleah, who didn’t return the gesture. Jo didn’t blame her. They must think I’m pretty stupid, Jo thought, to bring them across the river in such an awful place. Mud, stuck horse, saw grass, mosquitoes, and now leeches! What next? Jo shook her head and turned her attention back to the approaching shore.

  The far side of the river sloped gently and was quite rocky. Past the band of rock, the ground sloped steeply upward. A stand of trees lined the bank, giving way to the rapidly rising Wulfholde hills.

  Carsig struck bottom and gladly made for shore. When the creature reached shallow water, Jo slid off the gelding and let him continue on his own. She ran behind a tree and pulled off her clothes as quickly as possible, dropping them to the rocky shore. The others were approaching, but she didn’t care. The leeches had to come off. Modesty didn’t matter at a time like this.