Ordella adjusted her position to get a better look.
Dunder had attacked a group of soldiers who were on their way to join the Kelsharlans gathered opposite the cave mouth. He'd ditched his branch and was now wielding a sword, presumably scavenged from one of the fallen soldiers.
Men were coming at him from all sides. He snarled and snapped like a rabid dog. His aggression seemed to have caught the Kelsharlans off-guard. Ordella held her breath, expecting the blow that killed him to come at any time. But somehow, Dunder remained alive.
She watched his movements more carefully. He actually knew what he was doing with a sword. His parries and thrusts were quick and efficient, and for the moment, he was just about keeping the enemy at bay.
Ordella craned her head to get a glimpse of the cave entrance. Jereth and the other bowman were in constant motion, sending arrow after arrow into the growing fray of soldiers who'd gathered by the foot of the last sanctuary oaks. A few of Oakhaven's children and an elderly woman scurried from the undergrowth, heading towards the cave mouth. Jereth altered his position to cover them, and they hurried in through the entrance behind him.
Ordella let out a breath. That group had made it to safety, but how many other villagers were out there, trapped by the flames or hiding in the bushes? Jereth and his archers wouldn't be able to hold the Kelsharlans at bay for too much longer. Soon they'd have to retreat down the tunnel and seal the opening behind them.
A group of Kelsharlan crossbowmen peeled away from the line and took up a position to the right of the cave mouth. If they were allowed to fire on the villagers, Oakhaven’s defence would surely crumble.
Ordella tugged on Hob's sleeve and pointed.
She shuffled backward to create a better angle, then stood up and fired at the group, striking one of the soldiers in the back. She ducked down, and Hob rose up and loosed an arrow of his own.
She reached into her quiver. Only three arrows left. She drew them all at once, positioning them between her fingers in the way that Jereth had taught her, then nocked the first arrow.
One of the crossbowmen had leveled his weapon and was just about to fire. Ordella released her arrow. It leaped off the bowstring and hammered into the man's shoulder. He yelped and staggered forward, his own shot careering harmlessly wide of the villagers and scuttering against the cave's outer wall.
Ordella didn't pause. She launched the second arrow into the crowd of Kelsharlans and then nocked her third.
Final shot. She had to make it count.
"Fall back!" Jereth's voice cut through the clamor. "Get to the caves!" He launched an arrow at the crossbowmen, grabbed Much by the arm and hauled him towards the entrance. A bolt thudded into the ground next to the boy's feet.
Ordella took a deep breath. Please let them make it.
She aimed her last arrow at the soldier nearest to them. It whistled past his head, missing him by the thickness of a blade of grass. He turned and glared over his shoulder, scanning the ridge. Ordella ducked down.
A horn blast sounded from the Kelsharlan ranks. For a fraction of a second, nothing seemed to happen, then there was an eruption of movement and a huge roar as the soldiers charged towards the cave. The gap that had existed between the opposing lines disappeared, replaced with a seething mass of bodies. Was that Jereth running into the tunnel? She shook her head. It was almost impossible to tell. But one thing was certain: if someone didn't seal the entrance soon, it would be too late.
"What shall we do?" Hob said. His quiver was empty, too. "There has to be something."
A splintering crack echoed around the valley floor, quickly followed by a deep rumbling from the mouth of the cave.
The throng of soldiers suddenly stopped, as if the wind had changed direction, instantly calming a choppy sea. The noise intensified, and then the whole cliff face above the caves gave way, sending huge boulders and clumps of earth crashing to the ground.
Ordella peered through the plumes of dust that were rising from the debris, mingling with the smoke that already clogged the air. The entrance to the caves had disappeared, buried behind a vast heap of rock.
"Now's our chance." Ordella grasped Hob's hand, pulling him back towards the forest. "There's nothing more we can do for them right now. We have to seek help."
"But what about Dunder?" he said.
In her rush to target the soldiers who were firing on Jereth, she'd forgotten about the madman. When she'd last seen him, he'd been outnumbered and surrounded. There wasn't a chance in all Ellusia he hadn't been hacked down by Kelsharlan blades. She bobbed forward and raised her head up. Kelsharlans stood where he'd been fighting, but there was no sign of his body.
"He can't have made it," Ordella said. "There were too many of them."
Hob nodded. He ran his fingers through his hair then rubbed his eyes. "So where are we going then?"
Ordella chewed her lip. "I don't know yet. But let's get off this slope before someone sees us."
They scrambled up the hillside and headed into the gloom of the forest.
Twenty-Nine
Ordella slipped her pack from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor.
"I don't think we were followed." She scanned the trees then turned to Hob. "Do you have any idea where we are?"
Hob looked up at the sky. The sun was close to setting and the few of its rays which had managed to creep through the tangle of branches and Autumn leaves did little to brighten the gloom that surrounded them.
"Somewhere to the north of Oakhaven," he said. "Or what's left of it."
His eyes flicked to her face for a moment, then he looked away. He'd hardly said a word during their flight from the ridge.
"What is it, Hob?" Ordella said. "Tell me what's wrong."
He glanced up. "We shouldn't be here." He put down his bow and wriggled out of his pack's straps. "Not here exactly. I mean, we shouldn't be in the forest when the others from Oakhaven are where they are. It's just not right."
"I know what you mean," Ordella said.
"Do you?" He took a step towards her. "Do you really? Because I seem to remember it was your idea for us to leave." He rubbed his face with his hands. "I'm not a coward, Ordella, but I feel like one right now."
"I'm not a coward, either." Ordella tried to keep her voice level. “But I'm also not a fool." She flicked her hair out of her eyes. "Look what happened to Dunder. Was he brave? Certainly. Was he willing to give his life to help his people? Yes. Did his sacrifice change the outcome or deter the Kelsharlans in any way?" She shook her head. "We know where our friends are, and we know the forces that surround them. All we have to do now is come up with a plan to rescue them."
"And how are we going to do that, Ordella? Tell me." Hob kicked out at a frond of bracken. "No one's going to help us. We're on our own." He paused and touched his empty quiver. "We don't even have any arrows. How do we free them? Tell me."
Ordella looked down at her feet. "I'm not sure. But I do know we've got a better chance of doing it as we are now, alive and well, than if we were holed up in the cave with the others or had suffered the same fate as Dunder."
Hob sniffed and shook his head. He untied his bag and pulled out a woolen blanket. He draped it over his shoulders then eased himself down to the floor at the foot of a beech tree, resting his head against its trunk.
"I'll take first watch," he said.
*****
The sun had almost completely disappeared. A chill breeze blew through the trees, and Ordella shivered.
She fetched her pack and rolled out her blanket onto a moss-covered patch of ground. She took a gulp of water from her skin then lay down on the forest floor. The branches above her swayed from side to side in the wind, and her eyelids grew heavy.
She snapped her eyes open. She couldn't succumb to sleep just yet. There were things she had to think on.
Questions swirled through her mind like falling leaves in the breeze. How could she help her friends? Who could she turn to in their hour of need? Had Merisca reached th
e caves in time? Had Flynn? Had Jereth? What information about her father had been lost when Dunder threw his life away?
She tried to latch hold of just one of her fleeting thoughts, but they wouldn't stay still. And then they merged together, a great eddy of sounds, images and feelings. She started to breathe more deeply. The forest's gloom and the rhythmic rustling of the leaves wrapped around her, comforting her like a warm fleece. Her eyes closed.
Ordella woke with a start. Who's there? Someone was touching her arm. She swiped at them with a balled fist and sprang to her feet.
"Hey!" said a familiar voice. "It's me. Hob."
She rubbed her eyes. The forest was nearly completely black with only the faintest glow from the stars and the thin slither of moon peeking out from behind the trees' leaves. She blinked a few times and waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.
"It's your turn," Hob said. "Your watch."
He turned on his heel and stomped his way back to the tree he'd been sitting against before she'd fallen asleep.
Ordella stretched her arms above her head. Crouching down in front of her pack, she opened it and pulled out the rotclaw cloak Jereth had given her as a parting gift. She wrapped it around her shoulders and ran her hands through the warm fur. The ink black fibers seemed to absorb the darkness.
Pulling the hood over her head, she sat on the ground and gazed into the shadows between the trees. She tried to focus, but her heart raced and again her mind wouldn't settle on one thing. She imagined Dunder's battered body on the ground at the feet of a huddle of Kelsharlan soldiers, his scarecrow's hair matted with blood. The soldiers' faces all turned at the same time and fixed her with a stare. They all had Skerrick's eyes, pale blue and piercing. All at the same time, the men's lips twisted into cruel grins, and they raised their eyebrows ever so slightly as if her desperate situation amused them. They opened their mouths and their words filled her mind.
What now, Ordella? Surely you have a plan? Surely you haven't left the people of Oakhaven to fend for themselves in the caves?
Ordella shook her head. She had to think clearly. Merisca and Jereth and the others were counting on her. But what could she possibly do to help them?
She yawned and rubbed her face. The Kelsharlans weren't going to leave in the morning. Now that they'd finally found the village, there was no way they'd give up until its people were either dead or in chains.
She chewed her lip. The caves would keep the people of Oakhaven safe for a while, but eventually the Kelsharlans would reach them through the rubble. A few might be able to escape down the tunnel Flynn had spoken of, but it emerged from the ground not far from the cave mouth itself. Without help from the outside, the chances of someone getting out that way were incredibly slim. They'd almost certainly be spotted and captured.
Ordella pulled her cloak tighter around her and took a sip of water. Oakhaven would be swarming with Kelsharlans. There was no way that just the two of them could free the villagers. They simply had to find help. There was no getting away from it. But who would come to their aid?
The wind whistled through the branches, making them creak and clack together. Ordella yawned again. Who would be willing to offer enough troops to force the Kelsharlans to abandon their position? Ten years ago, the other villages of the Border Wood would've been an option, but most of them didn't exist anymore, having suffered the same fate as Rittle. If any remained, sending their able-bodied men and women to aid the people of Oakhaven would leave them vulnerable to attack themselves.
She dug her nails into her palms. She had to stay focused.
Only Gilmar possessed enough soldiers to make a difference, and they certainly weren't going to help. The city had turned its back on the villages of the Border Woods years ago, and King Rellmar still sat upon the Charred Throne. He wasn't going to change his orders and fling open Gilmar's northern gates just because she asked him to.
Hob snored loudly, tossing and turning on his makeshift bed. Ordella crept over to him and pulled up his blanket, tucking the edges under his shoulders. Perhaps Hob had been right after all. Perhaps they'd missed their best chance to help their friends. When Dunder charged down the side of the valley, maybe they should have followed him.
She slumped back down onto the ground, blinking back tears. Her mind was like the pages from a book covered in tiny writing. New thoughts were continually being added before she'd had a chance to make sense of those already in place. What in all Ellusia was she going to do?
She pictured Merisca, Jereth, Flynn and Lera and the others huddled together in the cave's main chamber, their worried faces illuminated in the flickering golden glow of the wall torches.
Another gust of wind whistled through the trees. Underneath the rotclaw cloak, Ordella thrust her hands deep into the front pocket of her tunic. Her hand brushed against something. She grasped it and pulled it out. It was the folded scrap of parchment she'd found in the elm tree. She must have mistakenly left it in her pocket when she'd transferred the patch to her bag.
She unfolded it and held it up in front of her, trying to angle it in such a way that a stray beam of moonlight would fall upon it. It was too dark. She couldn't make out the inked letters, but it didn't matter. She could still remember the name. Fellbrig. Fellbrig of Gilmar, Master of the Guard.
Ordella swallowed and repeated his name over and over again in her mind. She'd never heard her father speak of him, but on paper, Fellbrig had addressed him as a friend. They must have been close. Surely he'd be prepared to assist her.
She breathed deeply and wiped her eyes. Seeking out Fellbrig was certainly a long-shot, but it was a plan, and it was the only one she could come up with.
Ordella put the parchment back in her pocket and pulled her knees up close to her body. She glanced in Hob's direction.
He wasn't going to like it. He wasn't going to like it at all.
Thirty
Hob stopped chewing his strip of cured meat.
"So, let me get this straight. Your plan is for us to walk from here to Gilmar, demand to see this Fellbrig, a man you've never met before, and ask him for help?"
"Not exactly," replied Ordella. "I'm going to explain our situation and appeal to the Gilmarians for help first. Then, if that doesn't work—"
"Which it won't."
Ordella glowered at him. "And if that doesn't work, I'm going to demand to speak to Fellbrig."
Hob raised his eyebrows.
"Do you realize how ridiculous this sounds? The Gilmarians didn't lift a finger when the other Border Wood villages were under attack. By barring their gates to us, they've made it painfully clear that we no longer fall under their protection. As far as they're concerned, Gilmaria now starts on the southern side of Gilmar’s northern wall. They are not going to help us."
"You don't know that," Ordella said. "My father was born and raised in the Border Wood. He was also a Gilmarian soldier. There must be others like him. They might be willing to do the right thing."
She took a gulp from her waterskin.
Hob snorted. "I think you underestimate the hold King Rellmar has over his subjects. It was on his orders that the gates were closed and no sane man is going to risk going against him." Hob tossed a half-eaten stick of jerky back towards his pack. "And don't get me started on your second option."
"No. Let's hear it," said Ordella. "You've come this far."
"Well, firstly, neither of us actually knows who Fellbrig is. We don't know if he still lives in Gilmar, and we certainly don't know his views on what's happened in the Border Woods. We don't know anything about him." He stared at Ordella. "We don't even know if he's still alive." He paused and sighed. "We're pinning our hopes on an old-fashioned name written on a grubby piece of paper."
"I know," Ordella said. "Don't you think I'm aware of that? There are countless ways in which the plan can fail. I know it's far from ideal, but I can't think of an alternative." She looked up at him. "Can you? Do you have a better idea?"
Hob's chee
ks turned pink, and he flicked his eyes down to his feet. "No," he said. "No, I don't."
They stood in silence for a moment, facing each other. Then Hob nodded as if he'd just concluded a discussion he'd been having in his head.
"Pass me the map," he said. "It will take us a few days to get to Gilmar. We'll need to work out the best route."
*****
On the morning of the third day of their march, Ordella and Hob reached the fringes of the Border Wood. The forest had become thinner the farther they’d walked to the south-east, until the trees petered out completely, giving way to a plain of grassland punctuated by a series of knolls and rolling hills. They paused to rest at the base of the first large slope they came to.
"When we get to the top of this one," Hob said, "we should be able to see the walls of Gilmar."
Ordella reached for her waterskin, took a drink and passed it to Hob. A wave of uneasiness washed over her. She turned around, scanning her surroundings. There was no cover here at all except for the hills themselves. If Kelsharlan soldiers burst from the forest behind them, there would be nowhere to hide. They'd be forced to face them.
"Let's not linger here," she said. "Being out of the woods is making me anxious."
Hob looked over his shoulder. "I know what you mean." He took a swig of water and returned the skin to Ordella. "I haven't stepped out of the forest for years, not since I was a small boy. It's strange not being able to reach out and place your hand on a trunk or bough."
Ordella put the water skin away and hoisted her pack.
"Ready?" she said.
Hob nodded and started to stride up the hill. Ordella followed behind.
The slope wasn't as steep as the one they'd scrambled up to evade the mounted Kelsharlan soldiers, but the grass was slick from last night's dew.
Stooped under the weight of her pack, Ordella focused on keeping her footing and tried to ignore the burning in her thighs and calves.
She trudged onwards, longing for a tree branch or a vine of ivy to grab hold of, but nothing seemed to grow out here except for the grass and the occasional patch of tiny mauve flowers.
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