by Unknown
“How did she get here?”
“I told you. They go where water flows”
The older one came up near Hawkmoon. He climbed from the pool, the girl following. A cold wind had come with twilight . Walking back the trail he sat in the cover of a boulder. . The girl seemed unaffected. She stood close, eyes gazing into his.
“Thank your father for his help.”
“Thanks is not required my lord. There are those who say we should not meddle in the affairs of men. Men defile the Land, they poison the water, they destroy its forests...Not all men are like that” She said, brushing his lips.
He took her hand away “Go to the Elves Tell them Reivers are on Tarsis. We will meet a day north of the Shanan”
“It shall be done, my lord. Who may come to assist you or how many I cannot say”. She took his hand and kissed it.Sunrise was hidden as they finished a meagre breakfast. Bekter moved easily, the fatigue of the previous day a memory.. He finished their Spartan meal .. When Hawkmoon apologised for the lack of food he tapped a massive paunch:
“Don’t worry about me. By the time we get to Elfhome I will be the god like youth women adore”
“Bekter. The only woman that ever adored you was your mother and her eyesight was not the best.”
If they moved fast they would be clear before the watchers were in place The track formed part of a military road built by an empire to bring back the gold that kept their people in bread and circuses..Hawkmoon set an easier pace than the day before or so it seemed as Bekter moved in front. His breathing was easy, face barely flushed . A ridgeline to the right concealed them from spying eyes. The track would last until the following evening. After that the plateau was a flat board; everything on it that moved by daylight would be seen.
Hawkmoon offered him the last of the fruit. Bekter shook his head. His body had used the energy from the food. It was switching to the strength stored in his fat. Taking water he kept on. White flecks started to land around them. The road had sunk below the surrounding land affording a measure of protection. They had to make the seep. With the storm rising darkness would come early. Over the years he had learned tricks to remove his mind from pain and fatigue.. His favourite was to think of his wife.….
Two had escaped, seven had been taken. The tracks of a wagon led into the forest . Ruts from the wheels made them easy to follow. They caught up to them in a forest clearing two days later. Three by the fire ,one of them a giant of a man, two by the wagon, wrestling with a girl . Bekter waited while Hawkmoon circled round.
A warbling sound came from the other side. Rising from cover Bekter walked into the clearing . The ones at the fire hooted, shouting encouragement at the two with the girl. She fought them, grim faced and silent. One slapped her. Pulling back she glimpsed the newcomer. The two with her looked to see where she was looking. One of them wrenched her to place her between himself and the stranger. The other ran for the trees. Bekter let fly with a small hatchet. Elbowing the man who held her, the girl threw herself on the earth..Those at the fire gaped at Bekter. Enraged one of them reached for a bow. He screamed and fell over backwards. The others leaped for swords. Bellowing the biggest of them gathered a Tulwar and charged.
One started to load a crossbow. A bolt hit him in the back of the head , emerging through a mat of hair. Two ran from the camp. The one in front turned as if someone had called him back… He collapsed. The Tulwar charged blade descending. Moving aside, Bekter stabbed him in the kidneys .. The slaver began to rise then collapsed, face in the dirt. Hawkmoon came in.
“Thanks for leaving the big one for me. What about the one that ran?”
“Don’t worry about him”
The girl was at the wagon trying to open it. She spun as Bekter approached holding a knife.“ Easy lass. We’re not one of them.” Bekter had a sheepskin jacket. He placed it round her shoulders. She trembled ,shock beginning to take hold. Her left eye was closing with a massive bruise.
Some of the women were crying, the rest silent. Slavers left the women alone if they were virgins or they looked like they might be.. This lot hadn’t bothered.Bekter smashed the lock with the hilt of the Tulwar . One of the women, taller and older looked out. She came to Bekter and stood before him. Grief made her eyes wide yet she had command of herself. She asked him for a knife. Walking over to where the big man lay, she knelt by him. She whispered. He looked at her. Holding the tip of the blade over one of his eyes she pushed it into his head.
They returned to the settlement. It was deserted. Except for a woodcutters cottage, the houses had burnt. That night the girl came to his room . She asked him to take her to Cormalin. Then she took a blanket and lay on the floor. When he offered her the bed she stared at him, face tight with fear . Taking a blanket he left the room.
Bekter had a tavern in Cormalin . She would run it for him. Hawkmoon took a contract to take a caravan out to the tribes. They would be gone until Spring…
It was early Summer when they rode back to the city. He expected to find the place shut and her gone. The tavern was bustling.. Most of the staff were women they had taken from the slavers. The tall one gave him a smile and a hug. Another ran to find Shula. He was drinking at the bar when he felt a touch on his shoulder. The girl he left was unrecognisable in the one he returned to. She was taller than he remembered, dressed in blue velvet with her hair tied back. She was smiling... She invited him upstairs but he preferred to stay among company. It was his way when he had been through war. That and getting drunk to the point of wretchedness. Looking at her he realised he did not know how to talk to her. Most of his experience with women had been with whores or women who might as well have been. This one was different…
On the return journey they had trouble from renegades. One had nicked him with an arrow. Hawkmoon had cleaned it and put the arm in a sling. Seeing the wrapping she asked what had happened. He made the mistake of telling her. Her eyes bored into his.
“How dare you come back like that” Surprised at her tone he was pleased with the proprietorial note of her complaint.
“Shula, this is my work, it is what I do.”
She struggled to contain her emotions . “That day in the forest..… I thought my life was over. They hurt me ... Then you came. Walking in as if it was nothing. My guardian angel”
“Your ugly angel”
“Solomon Bekter, you are not ugly, don’t ever say that” she scolded “You faced armed slavers. Most men would have kept going. “
“I had help.”
“Yes , Hawkmoon” It was obvious she disliked the Ranger.
“He is my friend ”
“He is a killer”
Bekter took her hands. “My dear, I am a killer”We make war on slavers. It is part of our code. We live by it so that we can persuade ourselves we are better than scum… We are scum. In a better world we would be dead or in jail .Please understand. I am what I am. If you cannot accept that we should go our separate ways. “
She stayed quiet for several moments. He thought this was the end for them When she looked up she was smiling. “You are not ugly”. She took his arm and they went upstairs.
The blizzard eased, enough to make out a line of trees. . Above the moan of the wind came the snap of branches collapsing under the weight of snow. The trees divided into a clearing .A group of cabins huddled by a line of boulders. Ice crunched under their feet. Smoke came from one as they clambered over the drifts. As they approached the house a weak light came through cracks in the shutters. Bekter hammered on the door. The sound of feet shuffling came. A thin face peered out. The stench of sickness followed him.
“We seek shelter and food if you can spare it. We will pay and we mean no harm”
“Best not to stop here, sir. You may die in the blizzard but you will surely die here for we have the Red Plague”Bekter recoiled from the door. The man, was young, made old by care and sickness. He started to close the door. Hawkmoon put his hand against it and went inside. After a moment Bekter followed.
The fire threw light across a shape huddled in blankets near the hearth.. Hawkmoon knelt and pulled back the covers to find a young woman with a baby held close, skin streaming with perspiration . He lifted her arms to find swellings in the armpits. The child was coughing. “I thank you for your kindness but you should have stayed outside”
“You are well away from people here. How did you get this? Hawkmoon asked
“The others said it was a curse from the old witch up in the canyon . Not that it matters. They are dead and so will we soon enough”
“Get up and fetch clean water”
The man looked at Hawkmoon.“For what, man, we will be dead by tomorrow”
“Do as you are told” said Bekter.
Wrestling the door, that was sticking in the cold he went outside with a bucket. Taking a Jade crystal from his coat Hawkmoon knelt by them. Placing it on her forehead he whispered. The crystal began to glow. The storm howled around the cabin. Icy blasts followed the young man when he returned. Seeing Hawkmoon kneeling by his wife he started to go forward but Bekter held him. Red colours lit the shadows .The girl moaned slipping into a deep sleep.. He lifted the child to his lap and placed the crystal on its chest .The man had sores on his arms . By the time Hawkmoon was finished the crystal was spent.
“Sleep while your body recovers. .”
They found a larder well stocked with dried fruit and vegetables. There was half a roast chicken and some ale. Hawkmoon and Bekter sat to fill their stomachs.. “Useful things, those crystals. Where did you get them?”
“On my travels.”
Years back, on the road to Carlis they came to a village of sick people. They spent a week, Hawkmoon going from house to house while Bekter dug graves for the others. When the crystals ran low Hawkmoon bled himself to charge them.
They were gone a day’s ride when a troop of lancers came up . The priest with them insisted on their arrest. They would be taken to Carlis and lodged in the town gaol, pending trial and execution for sorcery. Bekter bribed a guard to get word to the Rangers …
Bekter regarded Hawkmoon. He never slept indoors . Wandering about in that wagon like a vagrant gypsy; the joker with the ready smile and a wink to the pretty girls. The centre of attention in taverns and bars from Lorelei to the Ester Sea;singer of songs, teller of tales. Men with drink in them would contradict him, provoke him, try to get him to fight . Hawkmoon would laugh and buy them whiskey or failing that,walk away. When they got home they would boast to their wives how they had faced the greatest killer in the Land ….
The storm began to ease as dawn pushed weak light through the shutters.. The girl was sleeping, arms around her child. The man’s name was Haran. In the morning he brought a sack of flour , a round of cheese, cured ham and a cask of drink made from milk and honey. The task of transporting the provisions was solved when the villager returned with three ponies and a steeldust gelding. Their owners would have no further use of them.
They helped bury the dead leaving some unburied at both entrances to the village .Reivers would give the place a wide berth. Next day the sun rose bright and hard. The paths were muddy around the village but clean where the desert resumed.
Haran brought them snowshoes and a thick coat for Hawkmoon. “We owe you our lives. The angels must surely have sent you.”
“What will you do? you have lost too many to defend the place”Hawkmoon asked.
Haran shrugged, “We have stores to last a couple of months. There is a stream back of the canyon. There is gold in it, enough for a fresh start. I went up last summer with the fleece of two rams. I weighted them in the current. By now they will be heavy with gold. Old Muller said he found the motherlode. The problem is the bitch that lives in the caves. The way she sees it, it belongs to her”
“We are going to call on her. We will explain that you are leaving her one of the fleeces when you go. Is that agreed?”
“It is”
“Wait a week days before coming for the gold. When you get to the Royal City look for Obod .” ” Hawkmoon gave the villager a copper disc. Leave the gold with him. He will give you a fair price.. Keep your mouth shut about the gold and deal with no one but Obod”
The Old Biddy.
They reached the canyon on the afternoon of the fourth day. The terrain dipped over a rock basin holding a freshwater lake. A wind funnelled past racing into the narrows As the walls tightened the wind gathered speed. A weird moaning came from ahead. Turning their collars they bent forward, huddled over the necks of the horses.. The wind rose higher, the sounds from ahead changing from moans to screaming. Bekter’s pony shied, crabbing to the left. The screaming became a discordant choir. They rounded a sidewall to a dead end; the screams rising in pitch beyond the limits of hearing. Through flying dust they caught glimpses of shapes moving in the half light.. As they approached they could make out figures impaled on stake posts. One was an Elf, skin flensed from a white skull. Their ears ached. A figure came from an opening in the rock behind. It shambled, bent over a long staff. The staff rose and the wind fell.
“You may enter Deathwalker. The other stays outside”
“He goes where I go”
“I doubt that “she cackled. Bekter dismounted, his legs shaking.
Standing near Hawkmoon muttered“Show no fear, with this one.”Bekter wondered who had impaled them. On second thoughts it was better not to know. Their skulls were carved like flutes. The air came through the skull and moaned as it exited. The stronger the wind the louder the music ... Prodding the flames with a black tongs, she squatted by a smoking fire.
“So, you offer people my gold, how generous of you”
“They will leave and you will have the place to yourself “
“They can leave with their lives.”
“I made a promise; don’t make a liar of me”
“It is my gold”
Hawkmoon shrugged. “I can follow the stream back into the mountain until I find the main lode. When I get back I will put the word around of gold on Tarsis. You can terrify a few villagers. How will you deal with an army of miners? Gold makes men brave. The first peep out of you and you would be sitting on one of those stakes.
“Do not threaten me Hawkmoon. I might take your head.”
Hawkmoon gave Bekter a cheroot and put another to the flame.“Worse than you have tried old one. They are in the Void contemplating their foolishness. He propped the axe against a rock. “The goldfield will be the property of the Queen of the Dasatii” War is coming and she needs money. She will station a regiment here to protect her interest. She will pay you a commission on every ounce taken from these mountains. You will be wealthy beyond the dreams of avarice. ”
“Is that your offer?”
“It is the best you are likely to get. If you refuse I will put the word out. The miners will come, and the brigands. So much lawlessness; the Queen will have no choice but to send a force to keep order”
“You’re a bigger rogue than the rest of them”
The cave was warm from the fire. A stack of dry timber stood beside it. The rear of the cave was cordoned with furs and animal hide.. Underfoot was dry sand The wall had cracks and small fissures. . The smoke of the fire disappeared into cracks higher up. Hobbling to the back of the cave , she returned with an earthenware jar.
“I took the fleeces out last week.”
“I don’t want harm to come to them. Swear that you will do as you promise”
“Hawkmoon, what could I swear by that you would trust?”
Unwrapping the leather ties around the axe he lifted it.”You can swear by this”
The old one stumbled back, bare feet scuffling in the dust of the floor. A stone caught her heel and she sat down hard “ You brought that thing here. Where did you find it?”
“It found me.”
“He will have his gold and leave unmolested. I swear it”
“Give me your hand” She looked at Hawkmoon, not moving. Her face was thin, the skin tight with hunger. The eyes wer
e large. They could have been beautiful once. Now they glittered with fear and malice. She got to her feet. For a moment it looked as if she might bolt from the cave. Bekter tensed, ready to block her. Ignoring him she went to Hawkmoon , holding out her hand. He took it and pressed a finger to the blade. Blood trickled and the firelight began to fade.. Screams came from the air around them “Bring no harm to those people. Help us in our quest”The old one hissed .She nodded her head.“Say the words”
“I will not harm them. They may have the gold. I will help how I can”
“Take it to them. They will be easy to find.”
Bekter went out for provisions. Shivering in the wind he found himself wondering what roads Hawkmoon had taken in the years he had travelled alone. As much as he knew Hawkmoon there were parts of his life that were closed to him.. Where had he been? What had he seen and done? He spoke to sorcerers like they were dogs to be called to heel. How far had he gone into the Dark? Was that why Shula feared him?
Hawkmoon came out to bring the horses to a corral. There was water from a trickle off the rocks He took meal for the nosebags . “She has no food. Barely enough for herself. We will leave supplies.You can come inside”
“What is her name?”
“Once she was called Aille.. Be careful ;she is spiteful ”
When he went back the old lady took the food with a cackle and started to build the fire.“You’re a lucky man, Solomon Bekter ,a grand wife.. Shula …. Is that her name? The first weeks carrying a child can be dangerous. And you gallivantin’ about the country like a slip of a lad with not a care in the world I always says to Hawkmoon when he visits, Hawkmoon I says settle down, get a good woman ….The children of Hawkmoon, now that would be a family. Don’t be goin’ about interferin’ in other peoples’ affairs. Moll says a rosary for him every night...”