Shannon, the young priest rung his hands together in torment. This young woman was dressed as a man and that was a sin in itself. Her eyes were those of a demon, dark and forbidding.
The old priest also stared at the young woman, but he saw something entirely different. He saw a woman of strength, a woman who would not cower to any man. She spoke with confidence and deliberation. He had no doubt that what she was saying was true.
“What is your name,” enquired the captain.
“Mica.”
“Have you no second name?”
“If I have I have no knowledge of it.”
“So Mica, you have spoken to this Shadow Walker?”
“Several times.”
“What has brought this on? Why has a Shadow Walker appeared now?”
“Because the hallowed ground at Tursy has been desecrated.”
“Desecrated?”
“The Lothians,” said Mica as she looked up at the priests. “They came and killed the priests and burnt the church to the ground. Some of the people rose up against the soldiers, many were killed.”
The captain turned to the two priests. “Do you know of this?”
“No, sir,” gasped the elderly priest as his eyes held Mica’s.
The captain turned back to face Mica. “Regardless of what has happened in Tursy it is none of our business. We want nothing to do with the Lothians. You may stay the night and tomorrow morning Tang will see you out the gate. I fail to see what your going to Santomine would achieve, except maybe to draw us into something not of our making.”
Mica shrugged her shoulders. “If that is your wish, so be it.”
“Might I ask a question of the young lady, sir?” said the old priest lowering his eyes.
“Of course, Father Albert.”
He raised his eyes to look once again at Mica. “What happened to the flag of the Shadow Walker?”
“It was retrieved by him and I took it into the Lothian camp where they burnt it, but not before I gave them a warning, a warning of the deaths to come.”
“And were there any deaths?”
“The Shadow Walker slew seven men during the night, beheaded them and placed six of the heads in a circle. The seventh head he placed in the middle of the circle.”
No one said anything further. Mica turned sharply and walked from the room closely followed by Tang. She stopped on the stone steps and looked at the huge wall and its ragged battlements, Tang drew up beside her. “How many died in Tursy?” he asked.
“Around two thousand, but the Lothians didn’t have it all their own way.”
“I presume that some fell to your sword.”
“You presume right, Tang.”
“I would like to have seen that.”
“Where are the others?”
“At my wife’s boarding house, I will take you there.”
Father Albert was shaken by Mica’s story. His fellow priests had been murdered. The king had crossed the line. The young men in the church would be baying for the king’s blood once they heard of the massacre. This could be the beginning of a revolt, a revolt that could plunge the whole continent into war. The captain was wrong in denying the woman access to Santomine.
“If it is true what she says then the other priests need to know, we must strike back, we must fight them,” said Father Shannon.
The captain stood up, his eyes glaring at the young priest. “You’ll do nothing of the sort, Father Shannon, nothing will be said and you will not go gallivanting off and spreading rumours. You will stay here and mind your own business and you will not repeat what you have heard today. What happens in the lowlands has nothing to do with us.”
“It might at some time in the future,” added Sergeant Borden.
“It may, Sergeant, but not now,” replied the captain, storming from the room.
Elijah lay back on his bunk enjoying the softness of the mattress beneath him. One appreciated these comforts after sleeping on hard ground. He was sharing a room with Gabriel, Gordy and Adar.
“Do you think they will let us go on?” asked Gordy as he pulled at his boots and let out a sigh of satisfaction as each one came free from his aching feet.
“I would say not, but Mica seems confident,” replied Elijah.
Already Gordy had valuable information for the king. The trap at the main gate would be worth some gold. If they could travel right into the heartland of the Manutes he would have more information to sell. He could already envision his retirement. It would not be long and he would be able to leave all this behind, maybe another year and it would all be over.
Gordy looked across at Adar who was stretched out on his bunk, his dusty boots still on and hanging over the end of the bed, for the bed was far too small for him. He was already snoring.
Gordy spread himself out on his bed. “I’m going to have a nap, wake me when it’s time for dinner.”
While the others slept Elijah thought over all that had happened since he had left the village with Mica. He had several stories already, stories that could be told to a willing audience, a paying audience. There had been conflict, death, sorrow, pain and mystique, all the ingredients needed to make a fine tale, but he also knew that there was more to come, more fighting and more death. He closed his own eyes.
“You don’t seem to be too worried about the captain’s decision,” said Tang as they strode down the earthen street amid the stone houses.
“He is only doing what he feels is right.”
“I don’t think the others agreed with him.”
“I will go to Santomine, Tang, it is already written. It cannot be changed.”
Tang was somewhat surprised at Mica’s words. She spoke as if she knew the future. Did she have the Sight?
They came to a two-storey house, the bottom half built of the same grey stone as were all the buildings in Grada. The top half was of weathered boards and the roof was made of slate. The roof and the walls were all tinged with the inevitable green moss, clinging like some ancient signature depicting its age.
Tang pushed through the rough-wooden door into a room that looked like an inn, but it was far better furnished with rugs on the floor and soft leather chairs. Yost was sitting at one of the tables with a big woman wearing a floral dress. She stood up as they approached.
“Mica, this is my wife, Annabel ,” said Tang.
“A pleasure to meet you, Mica, will you join us for a cup of tea.”
“Yes, I could do with a hot drink.”
“Sit down. I will get it for you.” She looked at her husband. “I suppose you want one as well.”
“No, I have to get back to the wall. My time is not up yet.” He leant forward and kissed his wife’s rounded cheek. “I’ll back in time for dinner.”
Mica sat down next to Yost.
“How did it go?” enquired Yost.
“Not well, but I believe there may be someone who will help us,” she said, thinking of Father Albert, whose eyes she thought had contained a message, a message of support.
“Your friends are resting in their rooms,” said Annabel.
Mica drank her tea and was talking idle chat with Annabel when Father Albert suddenly appeared.
“Might I join you?” he asked.
“Please do, Father,” replied Mica.
“This incident in Tursy is rather disturbing; if the king will slay priests what other atrocities will he do to sustain his hold on the people.”
“I don’t think he has any hold on the people, he only thinks he has and even then it is maintained with terror. The rising of the Shadow Walker, and his message, will sweep the land and the people will not be afraid anymore.”
Father Albert expressed a smile. “I was wondering how long it would take for the Shadow Walker to rise.”
“You know him?”
“Know him! I lived with him off and on for eight years. He came to us in the High Temples, a young man who had lost his soul, lost all reason. We healed his wounds, both inside and out. T
hen we educated him and helped him find his way. We discovered things about him and he discovered things about himself. When he left us he was a far different person than when he arrived, but he was still confused about his purpose in this world. I have not seen him for some years.”
“I think he has found his purpose now, Father,” said Mica, as she wondered if she should ask the question that was on her mind. Father Albert would know who the Shadow Walker was, would know his identity.
“Maybe he has been inspired,” added Father Albert, looking at the young woman before him.
“After what happened at Tursy I don’t think he could ignore what was happening.”
“Maybe so,” said Father Albert as he retrieved a folded parchment from beneath his robe. “This is a pass sanctioned by the church, no one will question it.”
“What about the captain?” asked Mica, taking the parchment.
“He has agreed to turn a blind eye to your passage; in other words if there is any fallout from this, it will be on my shoulders.”
“This is excellent news, Father, how can I thank you?”
“Just see that you reach Santomine safely.”
“We have yet to find ourselves a guide.”
Father Albert looked across at Yost. “Young man, would you take these worthy travellers to Santomine?”
“Father, I would, yes. But I must return to my village, my parents are expecting me. My father will have to give his approval as I am needed by the family, especially since one of my brothers has gone into the army.”
Father Albert knew that some of the outlying villages relied heavily for their survival on every member of the family participating in sourcing their means to live. A young man like Yost would be sorely missed. “I’m sure you can impress upon your father that this journey goes with the church’s blessing.”
“It might be enough, Father.”
“We will find a way to convince your father, Yost,” said Mica, warming to this youth seated in front of her.
That evening as they all sat around the table in a jovial mood, Gordy asked Tang about access to Manute lands by routes other than the main roads.
“Why do you ask?” enquired Tang with some suspicion.
“Back in Mountcross we were accosted by a man named Fletcher. Mica saw him off.”
“I know him, he is not to be trusted that one.”
“Yost here warned us about him,” said Gordy, “and that he was in league with bandits who often attacked travellers in the ravine on the way to Grada. Mica rightly feared that this man might do us harm. We came through the ravine in the early hours of the morning and Mica slew a man who was on watch with a horn. We can only presume that the bandits, and probably this man Fletcher, were lying in wait for us. I’m sure they would have been quite angry to find that we avoided them. As you know, pride can drive someone to do something that they might not normally do. The bandit leader will have lost face and I am sure he will seek us out.”
Tang glanced across at Mica. He found it hard to believe that she had stood up to a man like Fletcher. Although a fool, he was handy with a sword. “There are places, but they are narrow and can only be traversed in single file. Even in good weather they are very dangerous, now there will be ice making it even more so. Many have lost their lives on those passes.”
“They could get through though?”
“It is possible, but you would have to be crazy to try it at this time of year.”
“Do you have much trouble with bandits?” asked Mica.
“Not a great deal, as the army is always patrolling the roads and the people report any strangers. Although it does happen occasionally, more so when they are being chased by the Lothians and seek the mountains to hide. You think these bandits will try again?”
“No, as you say it is too dangerous to use the passes,” said Mica not wishing to alarm the others.
“Normally, I would give you an escort, but as your passage is not sanctioned by the captain I cannot.”
“We will be fine. We have Yost here to guide us,” said Mica, looking at Yost who seemed pleased to be accepted as one of them.
“Are you leaving tomorrow?”
“No, I want to buy some warmer clothing and Lucy and I want to take a bath.”
Later that evening a solitary rider came through the gate, he was a Manute, it was Rico. It didn’t take him long to learn the whereabouts of the girl and her friends. He took a room in one of the small inns and that evening, as he enjoyed a drink or two with his meal, he listened to the rumours. All the talk was of the girl wearing a sword. Some said she was in league with Thomas Letcher. Others said she was a demon and should be expelled from the lands of the Manute. It seemed that everyone was in awe of this woman.
Then there was the story of fighting and rebellion in Tursy. A Shadow Walker had risen, they proclaimed. He had slain seven Lothian soldiers and left their severed heads as a warning, a blatant warning of future deaths to come.
Rico felt the tension, the excitement and the anger rising in the room. The Lothians had attacked the land of the Manutes many times over the years causing much death and destruction. Even though they had driven them out each time, they were eager to see the tables turned on the Lothians. To have the people in the lowlands rise up in revolt would be something they would like to see.
Rico turned his thoughts back to the matter at hand. The girl and her friends had not been turned out, that could only mean one thing; they would be allowed passage through the land of the Manutes. Rico had been one of those who had been a bit skeptical of their leader’s motives. Sure, the travellers would have some money, but was it worth the risk to commit robbery here in the land of the Manutes.
The bandit leader, Barlow, was still smarting over the loss of two of his best men who had mysteriously vanished while surveying the caravan. He had also lost face on the road when the woman had forced him to retreat. And then they had managed to sneak past them in the night killing their guard.
The next morning Rico was able to discover more information. It seemed that the girl wanted to go to Santomine. This surprised Rico as only those who were invited or had a legitimate reason could go to Santomine, the centre of the Manute lands, the hub of the wheel so to speak. It was a place that was spoken of in whispers, a place that was also feared as the soldiers there wore green scarves around their necks, separating them from normal soldiers. They were elite fighters and were feared even in their own lands.
There was something else he discovered which would delight Barlow. Apparently, the boy named Yost was to lead them to Santomine, but not before he had visited his parents in the village of Breda.
Rico rode out around midday with a sly grin on his face, Barlow would be pleased with the information he had gathered. It would only take him and hour to reach the crossroads. Then, when the bandit leader arrived with his men they could set a trap on the road to Breda.
Along with the others Mica enjoyed a good sleep in, had breakfast and then she and Lucy took turns having a bath. Mica closed her eyes and let the heat of the water caress her body, seek out those aches and pains from their travel.
Mica opened her eyes and watched Lucy as she put on her dress, wondering what it would be like to wear women’s clothes, to have a husband to lie with, and to carry a child. She remembered the dress in her pack and recalled the low calm voice of the Shadow Walker. He had expressed a wish to see her in that dress. She closed her eyes.
The next day, with hooded fur coats and thick gloves, they set out. Yost led the way out of the town and along the well-worn road in the middle of the valley. They were surrounded by bleak mountains, ringed with grey swirling clouds. The weather was turning bad. Yost had to go and see his parents, give them the money he had earned and the goods he carried on his spare horse. Then he would need to convince his father of the worthiness of his deed, to lead Mica and her friends to Santomine.
“How far is it to your parents’ village?” asked Mica.
“An easy t
wo days’ ride from the crossroads,” he replied.
They came to the crossroad and took the left turn that led to higher ground. The chill in the air grew as they climbed higher along a winding trail through the now dense forest. Mica had a sudden feeling of fear, a sense that all was not well. She drew her sword from its scabbard and laid it across her thighs.
“Something not right?” queried Elijah when he saw Mica with her sword.
“I would suggest that we all draw our weapons.”
None of them questioned her. They all drew their weapons as they continued to ride slowly and silently through the forest. Yost was the only one to say anything. “What is it? he asked, turning in the saddle.
Elijah answered softly. “There is danger ahead.”
“How do you know?” asked Yost, lowering his voice to the same level as Elijah.
“Mica has the Sight.”
Yost stared at Mica.
“What is up ahead,” she asked.
“The forest opens up and there is a stone bridge over the river. On the other side is more forest.”
The bridge thought Mica. It has to be at the bridge. “When I give the order you are to drop low in the saddle and ride as fast as you can, do not stop under any circumstances.”
The forest was hushed as if it too, felt the danger. The only sound was the scuffling of the horses’ hooves on the pine needles that covered the trail. The sky could not be seen. It was dark here, like the coming of the night.
“Now,” yelled Mica, digging her heels into the flanks of the horse.
They burst out of the forest into the light. She saw about eight of them standing on the bridge. Mica spurred the horse, she had to be the first reach them as one of them had a long lance. This man had to be disarmed and killed. At the same time she heard the hissing of arrows and then the dull ominous thud and a scream of agony. Someone had been hit.
From out of the corner of her eye Mica saw that Yost was moving past her, targeting the man with the lance, all he had in his hand was a dagger. He drew his arm back and the dagger sailed through the air striking the man in the chest. The bandit fell to his knees. Yost dropped back behind her.
The Orphan and the Shadow Walker Page 19
