by Roger Taylor
‘I told you, it’s my job. I watch, I copy,’ Thyrn replied simply. Then he looked at Endryk with an unusual intensity. ‘I’m also starting to think.’
The weather that day was overcast but mild and well suited to walking and leisurely riding. The terrain became a little more sparse, with fewer trees and more long stretches of exposed rock. The most conspicuous feature of their journey was the gradual appearance of the land to the north which was clearly visible whenever they travelled close to the shoreline. The open sea was slowly being transformed into a wide river. Thyrn, however, seemed to be less distracted by it than on the previous day, his attention being focused much more on Endryk who continued with his instruction of the entire group by stopping several times – ostensibly for Thyrn’s benefit – to pick various plants and leaves and to unearth a few edible roots. This time it was Hyrald who kept glancing northwards whenever the opposite shore was visible. A decision would have to be made soon. North or south? North into the unknown, abandoning everything they had ever known? South into…? He did not relish arriving at the end of this particular journey and unashamedly shunned the topic whenever it came to him.
‘I’m afraid I’ve got a confession to make,’ Nordath said as they camped that night. ‘I dozed off when I was on guard last night – this morning.’
‘We saw you,’ Thyrn blurted out with a laugh but immediately regretting his inadvertent treachery. ‘But Nals was keeping an eye on things,’ he added hastily.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Rhavvan said dismissively. ‘To be honest, I don’t see any point in losing sleep just to stand listening to animals and insects doing whatever it is they’re doing. It gives me the creeps. And it’s ridiculous. No one’s going to come after us now. Not all the way out here.’
Hyrald glanced at Endryk, who gave a slight shrug. ‘They’ve come once, they could come again,’ he said. ‘But you know your own kind best. There’s nothing else I can say, except that just listening to you all gives me the feeling that your Commander won’t give up until he’s caught you. He doesn’t sound like a man who willingly leaves loose ends about his affairs.’
Hyrald stepped towards the looming decision.
‘That’s true enough,’ he said. ‘Vashnar’s nothing if not obsessive about details. And if we go south we’ll have no alternative but to go carefully – very carefully. I know it’s something we’re not used to, but that can be said about this whole business. For what it’s worth I think we might as well keep the habit going now we’ve started. Of course, if we go north, that’s another matter.’
He looked around the firelit group questioningly, but while Rhavvan was shaking his head in silent disapproval, no one seemed disposed either to dispute the idea of continuing the guard shifts or to take up the debate about which way they should go. Their unwillingness to participate annoyed Hyrald. He turned to Nordath. ‘Don’t worry about this morning. No harm’s been done. But – no disrespect to you – this is much harder on you than the rest of us.’ He tried to find words that would enable him to relieve Nordath of the need to stand his turn as guard, but nothing came that would not also relieve him of his dignity. ‘So I’d like you to take the first shift – and just for an hour. Is that acceptable?’
‘Yes, it is,’ Nordath replied. ‘Thanks for the thoughtfulness. I did find it very hard this morning.’
‘Tomorrow we decide,’ Hyrald said starkly to the others. ‘North or south. As we ride. Before we get too tired. We’ve slept on it long enough. Now we’re just avoiding it.’
The next morning found them developing the beginnings of a routine under Endryk’s covert instruction and Thyrn’s conspicuous example-setting, and the campsite they left behind was markedly better repaired than their previous ones. They also added two more rabbits and a squirrel to their supplies.
Despite Hyrald’s injunction of the night before however, none of them showed any willingness to discuss their future destination – least of all Hyrald himself.
Gradually the ground began to rise and eventually the trees petered out completely, though not before Endryk had brought down a large plump bird with a sling shot. It was a sudden and impulsive action and it impressed even him. ‘Haven’t used this in years,’ he said as he retrieved the bird. ‘I must get my eye back in again.’ He reloaded the sling and swung it again, this time stopping the hissing pouch and missile in his other hand with a loud slap.
‘Hope those never find their way on to the streets,’ Adren said anxiously.
Endryk gave her a puzzled look. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Criminals, street thugs, the kind of riff-raff we have to deal with,’ she amplified. ‘Armed with those, they’d be lethal.’
The answer did not enlighten Endryk. He held up the sling. ‘Hardly the work of a skilled craftsman, is it?’ he said. ‘If your riff-raff aren’t using these already, I doubt you’ve anything to fear. It’s not because they can’t make one, it’s because it takes a long time and a lot of practice to become a good slinger – just as it does with a bow or a sword. I can vouch for that on all counts – and I’m only average with all of them. If you’re facing anyone who can use one of these properly, then while he might be a criminal, you’d be making a mistake to think of him as riff-raff. He’ll probably be a trained soldier and you’ll have serious problems with him no matter what he’s carrying. Of course, if he can’t use one then you can be reassured by the fact that he’d be as much at risk as you.’ He laughed.
Adren seemed inclined to pursue the debate, but Hyrald intervened. ‘You’ll have to excuse my sister,’ he said, laughing. ‘I’m afraid she’s got a bit of Vashnar in her. She thinks that laws can change people – and worse, that we can control them.’
‘That’s not fair,’ Adren protested. ‘Sensible laws, properly discussed…’
Rhavvan looked skywards and Hyrald snapped his fingers. ‘Exactly,’ he said triumphantly. ‘“Restraints so gentle and moderate that no man of probity would wish to see them set aside”, etc etc. But not the kind of laws the Moot spews out – talk about a tenuous grasp on reality. If we tried to enforce half of them, we’d be fighting a war within a week. You know well enough we can only do our job because most people let us.’
‘This sounds like an old and well-worn debate,’ Endryk said before Adren could reply. ‘I’ll stand outside and watch if you don’t mind.’
But it was Thyrn who ended it. ‘Can I try that?’ he asked excitedly, reaching out to take the sling.
‘Maybe later,’ Endryk said, hastily pushing the sling into his belt. ‘In the meantime, you can pluck this bird.’ He demonstrated then threw the carcass to Thyrn. ‘Keep the feathers somewhere safe, we don’t want to leave any more of a trail than we have to.’
Thyrn caught the bird clumsily. ‘I can do this later,’ he muttered.
‘Now,’ Endryk insisted. ‘While it’s warm.’ A flick of his hand and an encouraging nod indicated that Thyrn should pick up the feathers that had spun into the air as he caught the bird. He did so without comment.
Nordath noted the exchange and seemed quietly pleased by it.
‘You still think someone will follow us?’ Rhavvan asked.
‘I just think it’s a risk, from what you’ve told me,’ Endryk replied. ‘But it’s good manners to leave the trail as we find it anyway.’
‘How long before there’s a safe crossing?’ Hyrald asked, as the turn of the conversation brought him back to the relentlessly avoided topic of their final destination.
‘It’s been a long time since I’ve travelled this way, so I can’t say exactly,’ Endryk replied. ‘Tomorrow – midday, probably.’
‘Where will you go?’
Endryk started at Thyrn’s unexpected question. ‘I don’t know,’ he said.
‘I’d like you to stay with us,’ Thyrn said.
The reply drew all eyes towards Endryk.
‘I’ll keep that in mind when we’ve to decide,’ he said.
As they walked and rode throu
gh the day, the ground continued to rise, and what had been a wide flat sea separating them from a distant shoreline gradually became a noisy tumbling river at the bottom of a steep-sided valley.
‘It doesn’t look any different over there, does it?’ Hyrald said, as avoiding a large outcrop brought them within clear sight of the far side of the valley. The group came to a halt spontaneously and stood staring across. The air was filled with the noise of the river echoing up from below. It was an intimidating sound, obliging them to raise their voices to be heard above it. It also lured them forward, until they were looking down at a sight which was equally intimidating. A jagged cliff dropped through a dense tree line to reveal a river that was both wide and foaming white with violence.
They moved off in silence.
After a while, the light beginning to fade, Endryk pointed to the skyline ahead. ‘We’ll camp on the far side of that ridge,’ he said. ‘Wake up to a downhill walk.’
As if the words had been trapped by the primeval din of the river and then released by Endryk’s simple statement, Thyrn said, ‘I think we have to go back home. I think we have to find out what’s happening.’
Endryk was slightly ahead of the others but like them he turned to Thyrn sharply. As he did so, he noticed something in the distance.
He closed his eyes for a moment and lowered his head. Then he opened them and pointed.
‘Look,’ he said flatly.
The country they had traversed lay spread out behind them. In the distance a column of smoke was rising from the trees.
Chapter 12
The column of smoke rose like an unnatural sapling from the green shadow-streaked canopy. Its lower reaches were dark and ominous while higher up it became a pallid grey at the touch of the early evening sun before bending and twisting erratically and finally dispersing into a soft haze as though striking an unseen ceiling.
‘What is it?’ Hyrald asked.
‘A camp fire,’ Endryk replied, not without a hint of surprise that such a question should even be asked.
‘Someone from the village?’ There was an element of clinging to hope in Hyrald’s voice. It was immediately dashed.
‘No, nor from any of the villages in this region. No one needs to come out here. No one does. Grazing, hunting, farming, they’re all better to the south. Not many even come as far as my cottage. Whoever it is, isn’t local.’ He shook his head. ‘And they’re as experienced at surviving out here as you are.’
Hyrald looked at him questioningly but it was Nordath who answered. ‘They’re making too much smoke,’ he said, recalling Endryk’s comments about his own fire-lighting efforts the previous day. ‘I understand what you meant about an enemy seeing us, now. I never realized.’
‘No reason why you should,’ Endryk replied, without taking his eyes off the rising smoke.
‘Who is it, then?’ Hyrald asked.
‘I don’t know. But our wisest plan is to assume they’re after us – you, anyway – and act accordingly.’
‘We could go and find out,’ Rhavvan suggested, raising a clenched fist. ‘Sneak up on them. I’m getting heartily sick of running.’
Endryk shook his head but did not argue. ‘I sympathize,’ he said quietly. ‘But it’s much further than it looks – the best part of what we’ve covered today. And that’s no small fire – there could be quite a few of them. Plus the fact that you’d lose your line of sight as soon as you got back down into the trees. You’d get lost.’
Rhavvan scowled and grunted but said nothing further.
‘Assuming it is someone chasing us, what should we do?’ Hyrald asked.
‘Carry on as we were intending,’ Endryk replied uneasily. ‘Just take more care covering our tracks, keep a good guard at night and watch our backs all the time. For the moment we have the advantage. We know where they are, but they don’t know where we are, or even that we’re here. We must keep it that way.’
He motioned the group upwards towards the ridge. ‘We’d better hurry. It’s getting dark and we don’t want to be using lights to find our way.’
The final ascent proved to be longer and steeper than it had seemed from below and it was a sweating and freely panting group that Endryk finally hustled over the ridge. Thyrn supported his uncle while the others led the horses. Endryk made them hug the edge of an outcrop and for the first time since they had set out, he showed some real urgency, constantly looking back and discreetly both keeping them together and urging them forward. He relaxed only when they were safely over, then, telling the others to rest, he went back up to the ridge and, crouching low, spent some time watching the still climbing smoke.
‘Why the rush all of a sudden?’ Rhavvan asked when he returned. ‘I thought you said they were almost a day away.’
‘It was just in case they knew what they were doing and had a lookout. A good man up a tree might have seen us against the skyline, especially if he had a glass.’
Rhavvan closed his eyes and blew out a frustrated breath. ‘Give me a couple of thugs in an alleyway any day,’ he said, patting the long staff fastened to his horse. ‘This is not my kind of country.’
‘It will be soon,’ Endryk said, unexpectedly serious. ‘You’d wit enough to hear those men on the beach coming and courage enough to deal with them. You’ll survive here if you keep your heads clear – watch, listen, think, learn – like Thyrn here.’ He pointed back at the ridge. ‘Arvenstaat’s got no army or even a military tradition, so if that’s someone looking for you – and it probably is – they won’t be some trained elite, they’ll be your own kind. And this won’t be their kind of country either. In fact, looking at the state of that fire, it certainly isn’t. They’ll be lucky if they don’t burn their own camp down.’
‘Do you want to press on while there’s some light?’ Hyrald asked, unsettled by Endryk’s remarks. ‘Get further away from them?’
‘No, I don’t think so,’ Endryk replied after a little thought. ‘On the whole it’ll be safer if we can see where they are. If we get the chance, we’ll lay a false trail tomorrow just in case they are following us. We’ll camp here tonight, near the top. That way we can keep an eye on them through the night and particularly first thing in the morning.’
The weather, however, worked against them. They were roused the next day by Endryk to be greeted by a damp, grey mist as they emerged from their tents. Endryk had already lit a small fire and cooked a rudimentary meal. He was unusually brisk. ‘Eat up quickly,’ he said to his shivering and reluctant charges. ‘There’s nothing to be gained by waiting around here. I don’t think it’s likely but we’ve got to assume your friends are already under way and we need to get out of this.’ An airy wave encompassed the greyness about them. ‘I think it’s in for the day, but it’s probably fairly local. With luck we should move out of it as we drop down.’
Under his urging, the meal was eaten while the horses were being saddled and the camp broken. The only delay he allowed was in ensuring that all signs of their presence were meticulously removed.
Infected by Endryk’s subtle pressure, Rhavvan became impatient to be off. ‘They’ll never see those,’ he exclaimed disparagingly as Endryk carefully disposed of the scarred rocks that he had used as a fireplace.
Endryk continued unmoved. ‘Never underestimate the effects of the small action, Rhavvan,’ he said. ‘There are demons in the details.’
‘You sound like Vashnar.’
Endryk paused and smiled briefly. ‘I’m sure he’s not without some charm.’
‘Come on. Let’s be off.’
Endryk straightened up and gave the site a final glance before turning to leave. ‘People don’t come out here, Rhavvan. We’re intruders – oddities – and we’re as conspicuous as a herd of cattle in the Moot Palace square. Don’t ever forget that.’
For most of the morning they trudged on in gloomy silence, surrounded by the mist and the sound of the nearby river. However, as Endryk had hoped, the mist gradually yellowed and eventually they cam
e out into a bright sunny day. White clouds littered the blue sky. Drifting slowly, they had the purposeful look of a stately armada. The countryside was little different from that which they had been moving through previously, though its dips and rises were more pronounced, its woods darker and more dense, and its vegetation generally had a tough, hardy look to it. One new feature was the proliferation of boulders and large rocky outcrops. Some, spiky and jagged, looked as though they had been thrust through the ground by some act of violence far below, while others, weathered and rounded, looked as though they had been scattered at random by a vast and careless hand. Occasionally, isolated trees and bushes could be seen clinging to sheer rock faces, like determined siege engineers bravely challenging the vaunted invulnerability of a castle wall.
The mood of the group lightened in the sunlight, though the knowledge that others were behind them hung about them like a cold remnant of the morning mist. From time to time, each of them would look back, though it was not often that the ridge they had camped on could be seen.
As they moved along, the river rose to meet them, its steep valley sides disappearing and its location becoming less immediately apparent, though the sound of it was unremitting. Eventually they found themselves standing on its bank.
Despite being so easily hidden by the terrain, it was very wide. It was also very fast and turbulent. In all it was an intimidating sight.
‘I’m coming to the end of the territory that I’ve travelled before,’ Endryk said. ‘And I have to confess it’s been so long since I’ve been here that much of the way I’ve only recalled as we came to it.’ He pointed upstream. Just above the trees, steep rocky walls could be seen. ‘But this I remember clearly. We’ll have to move south for a little while to find a place to get over those, but once we’re over there’s a place where it’s possible to cross – at least it used to be. After that, I’ve no idea. If you choose to carry on west after that, you’ll encounter the Karpas Mountains eventually. I imagine there’ll be other places to cross on the way, but…’ He shrugged and clicked his horse to move on.
