Aldrick raised an eyebrow. “How did you travel all this way from Kemett then? Walk?”
“That is long walk, do not be stupid! I take boat on river from Ae’lax Andretta, big city in Kemett. Capital city. I seek long time, not find lost prince. Now I find,” she ended with a proud note in her voice.
“Someone talking about me?” Garrick strolled over with a smile on his face. Without waiting for an answer he continued, “What is taking so long?”
“She has never ridden a horse before,” Aldrick frowned.
“What?” Garrick said with a laugh. “How is that even possible?”
“My people not ride these beasts. We use wagon pulled by bor’asin…” she began.
Aldrick quickly cut her off, fearing she was planning to go through the entire explanation once more with Garrick. “Her people don’t ride horses, apparently.”
She reddened when Garrick laughed and added defensively, “Horse not live long in desert!”
Garrick held up his hands in a conciliatory manner. “Don’t get upset, I’m sure you have a good reason. However, we need to ride now, so you will need to learn.”
“You help,” Aelianna said, pointing to Aldrick. Scowling at Garrick, she added, “Not you.”
Garrick stepped back with a smile, while Aldrick hopped down from his own horse. He was a little irritated by the way she demanded his help; he would have been happy to assist her if she had but asked. Yet it was best to simply help her and get it over with he thought sourly, if they were ever going to get mounted and on the road.
After some basic instruction Aelianna sat upon her new horse, looking shaky and uncomfortable, but in control. Even Garrick had to admit as they rode away from the inn, that while the warrior was still a bit awkward, she did seem to be grasping the basics of riding.
Garrick pulled his hood down once again to keep unwanted eyes from recognizing him while they were still within the borders of Karkerech. Nothing had changed in the city since their arrival. The bustle of city life continued around them, oblivious to the concerns of the outside world. Soldiers still loitered about the streets and taverns, waiting for something to do; perhaps the inevitable call to arms.
Although the plan was to travel north following the route outlined on the map, they had seen too many soldiers in that direction. Garrick insisted they needed to avoid the large army encampment that lay in that direction. During their survey they had narrowly missed being spotted by a regiment on a training march, and the king wanted to avoid any accidental meetings with the troops scattered throughout the area.
With that in mind, they left the great trade city of Karkerech through the west gate. Their eventual destination lay to the northwest, so they hoped that by traveling first west and then north, they might avoid the soldiers altogether.
The only problem with the plan was that the few roads to the west of Karkerech were rural at best, and animal trails at worst. The wide, well traveled roads in this area all ran north from the great trade city, eventually leading as far as Kishen. To the west, only small villages had grown in the expanses of forested hills and mountainous terrain, where farming was difficult and in some cases impossible.
If they continued to the west, they would eventually reach the foothills of the Kalligros mountain range, which ran north and east past Kishen to create the northern boundary of the known world. Fortunately, this far south the terrain was still passable, if difficult to traverse in places.
They rode in silence for some time after leaving the city, until they reached what appeared to be the end of the road. There was no sign of a crossing, the road simply ended abruptly. Past a hillock of debris they could see a shallow riverbed flowing south perpendicular to the road.
“The blasted river must have washed out the bloody road,” Dathan observed.
“That much seems obvious,” Garrick replied in a flat tone.
“Have we traveled far enough west to avoid the soldiers?” Aldrick asked before taking a sip of water from a leather travel skin.
“Maybe,” Dathan guessed. “But there’s no bloody road.”
“No road?” Warren fretted.
“We can follow the river itself,” Garrick suggested. “This appears to have been formed by heavy runoff during the spring, but it doesn’t look terribly deep now.”
“Yes, but there is water,” Warren said nervously.
“We should walk the bloody horses,” Dathan suggested. “The last thing we need is a horse breaking a leg in a bloody hidden hole. I don’t want to go through that again.”
Garrick nodded, and swinging a leg over the saddle dropped to the ground. “Let’s go.”
Warren moaned. “We have to walk? In the water?”
“Only until we reach another road,” Garrick replied. He added with a grin, “I don’t think you’ll melt.”
Aelianna swung down off her horse, and rubbed her backside. “Thank Mother Zam’mana. I will walk.”
“If the horses could break a leg, so could I,” Warren said to no one in particular.
They ignored him and dismounted, leading their horses down a slight grade covered in gravel and loose scree to the riverbed. They turned north and followed the stream.
The shallow water splashed and bubbled over slippery rocks and stones, coursing its way around larger boulders. This early in autumn the water was not particularly cold yet, but they stuck to gravel areas and hopped from stone to stone. A rough ledge of sand and loose gravel bordered the edges of the newly formed river. Here and there tall wild grasses swayed and waved in the light afternoon breeze.
“My feet are wet,” Warren moaned.
“Keep quiet,” Garrick ordered. “We are trying to avoid detection.”
“Yes, but it’s cold…” Warren stammered, but went silent after a stern look from the king.
The water became deeper, and they struggled along the edge of the river, keeping to gravel or grassy areas whenever possible, while skirting large boulders and small trees that leaned out over the stream. The glistening stones jutting out from the riverbed were slippery with moss, and they stumbled and slipped on a number of occasions. Warren clung to the reins of his horse to avoid falling.
They arrived at an area of still deep water, but the sides of the riverbank were too steep to climb out. They found they had no choice but to wade across the watery barrier, if they wished to continue north. Near the middle of the deep section, Warren stepped in a hidden hole and lost his grip on his horse. In the blink of an eye, he disappeared completely under the water.
Garrick jumped forward, splashing through the cool water. With a grimace, he reached down and pulled up his traveling companion by the collar. Warren grabbed onto his horse, sputtering and coughing.
“Watch where you’re stepping!” the king scolded.
Warren nodded, but could do little more than gasp for air.
The rest of the group waited in the shallows further north near a copse of dark pines while Garrick dragged the still coughing squire along behind him.
Warren had mostly recovered from his impromptu swim by the time they reached the others, and muttered his thanks to Garrick. Aldrick began to ask Warren if he felt ready to continue, when he was interrupted by a quick order of silence from Garrick. The king had a serious glint in his eyes. Aldrick knew immediately that there must be danger, as the king being serious was practically unheard of in his experience.
Garrick gesticulated, making it clear he wanted everyone to quietly edge further back into the protection of the cluster of dark green firs. As they moved to comply, he turned back down river and crept silently to the edge of the trees. They huddled in the trees and worked to quiet the horses and keep them calm for several long moments while Garrick peered back down river.
Aldrick was about to inquire as to what exactly was going on, when he heard the telltale sounds of the jangling armor and weapons of a group of riders approaching from the east. After a few moments, he could clearly hear the sounds of men talking and laughing
as well.
The whinny of horses was followed by a call for halt, perhaps by the leader of the group. A commanding voice said, “It looks too deep to cross here.”
“I agree Captain,” a voice replied. “We should go north and cross. Might be shallower by those trees.”
“Fine. Pass down the order Jonas.”
“Yes sir!”
“Wait, belay that order. That brute Tybalt and his men are patrolling to the north today. We’ll follow the river south and then cut back to Karkerech on the West Road.”
“As you say, sir.”
Orders were passed and the group of soldiers turned south. It was some time before nothing could be heard of the patrol, and then the group was finally able to breathe a collective sigh of relief.
“We’ll need to be on our guard more than I thought,” Garrick whispered. “I don’t know if this Tybalt and his men will come as far west as the river, but it seems likely.”
No one argued, and they quietly resumed their northward trek. Jonas had been correct, the river was noticeably shallower north of the trees, and forging a path became easier as they continued north. They traveled in silence when possible to avoid being detected by a passing army patrol. Even Warren kept his complaints to himself, although he could not stop shivering for the remainder of the day.
Chapter 18
They continued to follow the stream northward, staying as quiet as possible to avoid the northern patrol they had learned about from Jonas and his captain. The late afternoon sun dipped below the tree line, and the air became noticeably cooler. Warren began sneezing intermittently, and nothing Garrick said, or that the squire himself did to suppress them, seemed to have any effect on the expulsions. Everyone flinched each time he sneezed, the echoes ringing off the surrounding trees.
They had still seen no sign of Tybalt or his troops as twilight began to settle in around them. Reaching an open area, Garrick brought his horse to a stop and motioned for the others to come together.
Before the king could speak, Warren sneezed and wiped his nose.
“Will you stop that already?” Garrick sighed.
“Sorry,” Warren sniffled.
“We need to decide which direction to take,” the king continued.
“No sign of that bloody Tybalt character,” Dathan interjected.
“But it’s getting dark,” Aldrick added. “We won’t get too much further.”
Garrick frowned. “I’m not sure we want to stop here and take the chance of running into those soldiers.”
“If this bloody Tybalt has an entire blasted platoon with him, we could be looking at as many as fifty bloody men.”
“That would not be good,” Warren moaned.
“We could move west of the river,” Aldrick suggested. “The other group stopped at the river.”
“That’s a good idea,” Garrick agreed. “We’ll continue along the stream until we find a good place to leave. The going won’t be as easy, but it might be safer.”
They set out once more, carefully wending their way through a wide area of gravel and loose stones along the bank of the small river. A light evening breeze whistled through the surrounding trees. Cricket song from the tall grass to their left accompanied the crunch of gravel and sand as the group and their horses plodded along the edge of the water.
They continued quietly for a while, until Warren sneezed loudly.
“Stop! Who goes there?”
Aldrick suddenly saw two soldiers on the far bank of the river, half hidden in the deep shadows under a tall tree.
“Halt! Show yourselves!” the other called out, as they drew their swords.
“Bloody Urkalla,” Dathan cursed.
“Let’s move…” Garrick began, but before he finished the thought, Aelianna had knocked an arrow in her bone bow and let it fly. One of the soldiers cried out and dropped into the river with a splash, clutching the shaft that had materialized in his chest.
“To arms! Tybalt! To arms!” the other man shrieked, turning to scramble up the far bank.
An arrow appeared in his back, and he fell to the ground with a scream.
“Dammit,” Garrick growled. “So much for stealth.”
“I only see the two of them,” Aldrick said.
“I’m sure they had bloody friends,” Dathan mused.
The cry of a horn filled the night air, with another quickly joining it. There was a loud rustling just out of sight behind the dark tree line, and then soldiers began to appear through the trees, scrambling down the far bank. Yelling battle cries, the men waved their swords as they reached the river, splashing into the cold water.
“Go!” Garrick ordered, jumping onto his horse.
“It isn’t safe to ride in the dark,” Warren blurted.
“Safer than playing with fifty soldiers,” Garrick retorted, and spurred his mount up river.
“Good point,” Warren acknowledged, and the others quickly mounted and followed the king.
Aldrick paused atop his horse, as a group of mounted men burst through the trees. In the lead was perhaps the largest man he had ever seen in his life, astride the biggest horse he had ever witnessed. The pale light of early dusk reflected off of the water, and Aldrick caught a glimpse of the visage of the lead rider. His face was covered with angry scars, and his eyes, shining with a wild hunger, seemed to bulge out of his head. He gestured ahead with a large gleaming axe held in one massive, meaty fist.
“Stop them,” the monstrous man ordered, and his voice was like thunder.
Aldrick swallowed back an unnatural fear. Shaking off his trance, he spurred his horse after the others.
They rode along the edge of the river, the footing dangerous in the dim light of dusk. Tybalt and his men did not seem to be concerned with the risk to their animals as they whipped them to gain speed. Aldrick risked a glance back to see the brute and his mounted men gaining ground. More horsemen appeared from the far bank, and Aldrick suspected there had to be at least twenty behind them, perhaps more, with additional soldiers on foot. He spurred his horse faster to catch up with the others, water splashing from its hooves as the beast struggled through the sand and gravel.
“They’re gaining!” he shouted.
Garrick abruptly swung his mount to the left, away from the river. The others quickly followed him, and Aldrick could see he had somehow managed to find a well-worn animal trail leading away from the water. He could only wonder how the king had seen the path in the near dark in time to maneuver his mount onto it.
There was no time to ponder the question however, as he turned to follow the others. The shadowy trees lining the path whipped past him in the dark as he rode. Aldrick ducked a low hanging branch at the last moment, having nearly missed it in the gloom of dusk. At least one of the men chasing them was not so lucky. Aldrick heard him hit the ground hard as Tybalt shouted orders. It was unfortunate, Aldrick thought, that the brutish leader had not been the one to go down; for some reason he could not name, he had no wish to fight that monster of a man.
Aldrick felt his heart pounding in his chest. It seemed there would be no end to the chase. The soldiers had not lost ground by so much as an inch, if anything they still seemed to be gaining. Even without the monstrous leader, they would eventually have to face forty or fifty trained soldiers. There was no chance they could survive against those odds.
Aldrick was beginning to wonder just how long his struggling horse could keep up the hurried pace, when Garrick called back, “Hard right!”
The others followed the king, taking a ninety-degree turn to the right. Aldrick could see that the animal trail curved sharply to follow the top edge of a steep cliff. He marveled again at how the king had been able to navigate such an obstacle in the dark of the forest.
With a clear view of them, Tybalt and a pair of his men turned just in time to follow Aldrick and the others. The soldiers behind him were riding at breakneck speed however, and did not see the turn in time. Aldrick heard a loud ruckus as several men and t
heir mounts went careening off the edge of the cliff, amidst screams and neighs of terror. He winced at the cacophony as they hit bottom; the crunching of breaking bones and crushed bodies comingled with the screams and moans of dying men and animals.
Garrick turned again, and the trees opened up. They followed as the path wound its way down sharply into the canyon that lay at the bottom of the steep cliff. Aldrick could still hear the cacophony of the men at the bottom, broken and dying. He risked a glance back and saw that Tybalt, having lost a large portion of his men, had come to an abrupt halt at the top of the cliff. Moonlight glinted off his enormous axe as he shook it ferociously in the air above his head.
The Key of Creation: Book 02 - Journey to Khodara Page 14
