by J Seab
Marcus crawled to the tree line and watched as Fillip wandered about, pretending to examine the Lamont farm for clues to the attack. Marcus had already completed his check and, as expected, found no evidence of what had really happened here. The few remaining signs were quickly disappearing. The only challenge that he faced was making certain that the fool arrived at the proper conclusions. Knowing Fillip, that shouldn’t be much of a challenge.
Fillip, apparently done, climbed on his horse and headed back to Meldon, his face scrunched as if deep in analytical thought. Marcus stood and brushed the leaves from his clothes, debating whether he should head to Meldon immediately or remain camped for the day to wait for that Servitor.
He decided he would go to Meldon. He couldn’t let the fool’s mind wander for too long. But he suddenly altered his plan when he heard the clop of another horse approaching. He quickly scurried back into the trees.
A tall man wrapped tightly in a gray cloak rode into view riding a white horse. A big, black dog accompanied him, sniffing about, but staying relatively close to the horse and rider. Marcus quietly dropped back a pace or two and lowered himself into the concealing leaves and brush.
He watched as the man dismounted and walked into the front yard, his steps slow and heavy. The man stopped and just stood there, still as a statue, while his dog sat next to him attentively, as if on guard. Marcus couldn’t figure out what the man was doing. After the longest while, he roused himself, his movements jerky and his face contorted, angry looking. He sank to the ground, hugged his dog and talked to it. Was he doped on happy-smokes? What was he doing? Finally, he stood, went into the house, then came back into the yard, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he were moving within a haze. After poking around some more, he looked toward the forest on the opposite side of the clearing, called to his dog, and headed in that direction.
Marcus dared not follow, not with that dog nosing about, so he decided to stay put, wait to see what happened. The man returned after a couple of hours. He was in a hurry. He jumped on his horse and took off. Marcus watched as he galloped over the hill.
Marcus shivered in the gathering chill as low clouds thickened overhead and a brisk wind blew in from the north. That must have been that Servitor, and it looked like he’d found more than just a burned-out building and churned grounds. Marcus decided he must follow the Servitor’s trail into the woods and see what he might have discovered before he rode into Meldon.