Chapter 13
Alexander woke to the smell of breakfast cooking. For a moment he almost forgot where he was. In that in-between state, not quite asleep, not quite awake, he almost thought he was back at Valentine Manor in his very comfortable bed, but only for a moment.
Reality hit him suddenly and just as suddenly he was wide awake. Abigail was just rousing in the farm hand’s bunk on the other side of the small room. Alexander’s bed was lumpy and uncomfortable but the blankets were warm and it beat sleeping on the ground. He sat up and stretched. Abigail came fully awake with a start. She sat up, quickly looking for trouble. Seeing that there was none, she flopped back onto her pillow with a groan.
Alexander smiled gently. “Good morning. Smells like breakfast is about ready.”
She groaned again and waved him off. Abigail was not a morning person and Alexander knew it. He’d teased her about it often enough when they were children. That time seemed so long ago. He suddenly felt a stab of guilt for every unkind thing he’d ever done to her. She was his sister and quite possibly the only family he had left.
“I’ll keep a plate warm for you,” he said quietly before he left the little room.
Everyone else was already up and about. Lucky sat at the table slathering a fresh biscuit with thick blackberry jam. Anatoly stood at the window looking out over the fields, while nursing a mug of steaming hot black tea. Jack and Owen were bustling around in the kitchen preparing breakfast.
Alexander got himself a cup of tea and took a seat at the table next to Lucky.
“Good morning, my boy,” Lucky said around a mouthful of biscuit. The old alchemist was as cheerful as ever. Alexander marveled at how easily Lucky could find delight in the smallest things. He supposed it was a talent that his tutor had cultivated for many years.
Breakfast was hearty and filling. They had skillet-fried potatoes, spicy sausage, scrambled eggs, and fresh biscuits with jam and butter. There was more than enough for everyone to eat their fill and then some. Jack seemed to be in his element, playing host and ensuring that his guests were well fed. Owen followed his lead with practiced ease.
When everyone had stopped eating, except Lucky, Anatoly stood. Before he could say a word, Lucky sighed in resignation and nodded up at his old friend.
“I suppose it’s about time we were on our way.” He took one more biscuit before he too stood.
“Jack, I’d like to take a look at the horses, if I may.” Anatoly was clearly anxious to get moving. He seemed to be on edge, as if he could feel their hunters closing in. His tension was contagious and soon Alexander started to feel an urgent need to be on the road as well.
“Of course, we might as well take the saddlebags out to the stables on our way,” he said motioning to the five sets of saddlebags piled next to the door that were already loaded with food and traveling supplies. Anatoly nodded to the bard and scooped up two sets of the fully loaded leather bags and threw one over each shoulder.
Not half an hour later the five of them were mounted on their horses. It was a clear morning and the wind was still. It would be a good day for traveling. Owen stood at the stable gate as they said their farewells to the bard’s jovial apprentice.
“I expect I’ll be two or three days behind you with Master Lucky’s wagon and your horses. By the end of the week, we’ll all be safe in Glen Morillian and enjoying the hospitality of the Forest Warden’s table.” He gave a wink and a nod to Lucky.
“Thank you, Owen. Be safe in your journey. If you meet trouble on the road and need to travel more quickly than my wagon can carry you, there’s a leather bag under the buckboard. The contents of that bag are the most important to me. Everything else can be replaced.” Lucky shook hands with Owen and the party was off.
The forest was a good two days’ travel to the north if they stuck to the road, but Anatoly and Alexander both reasoned that the Reishi would have men along the road searching for them. While slower, it would be far safer to travel parallel to the road through the farm fields that stretched from Southport to the forest.
They made reasonably good time over the uneven ground. More importantly, they didn’t come across anyone but a few farm hands here and there and they were more interested in preparing the fields for planting than in anything else.
After a full day of uneventful travel, Alexander was starting to feel the sense of urgency fade. Maybe they would make it to Glen Morillian without drawing the attention of the Reishi Protectorate. He didn’t really believe that but he took comfort in the possibility.
They found a depression in the rolling landscape and made camp for the night. It was an ideal spot that offered protection from the wind and shielded their small fire from view. The night was clear and cold and the little cook fire offered welcome warmth.
After a meal of camp stew and hard biscuits, they began to lay out their bedrolls. Alexander was tired from the long day of travel but he was feeling optimistic. A little voice in the back of his mind was beginning to wonder what they would do once they reached the forest city, but he shoved it away. He had enough to worry about in the present. Tomorrow’s problems could wait until then.
Once they had their bedrolls set out, everyone sat quietly staring into the little fire, taking comfort in the flames.
Alexander was deep in thought about the forces of magic. He was going over everything Lucky had told him the night before, trying to put each new piece of the puzzle into its correct place in his expanding understanding of reality.
The fire suddenly drew down and went out. The air around them became frigid. Alexander could see his breath in the light of the half moon rising above. Anatoly stood, drawing his battle axe in one fluid, but silent, movement. Alexander knew what was coming next. He’d felt this kind of sudden cold before.
When the ghost flickered into existence, everyone gasped and stood in alarm. Everyone except Alexander. He sat where he was, albeit a little straighter.
The glowing silhouette grew brighter, then dimmed and shimmered as though he was struggling to maintain his connection to the realm of substance. The coals of the fire went from red to black and the ghost brightened.
Everyone was frozen with fright or disbelief. Anatoly started to take a step to place himself between Alexander and the apparition, but Alexander stopped him.
“Hold, Anatoly. He means no harm. Let him speak.”
The big man-at-arms looked at Alexander skeptically but did as he was told.
The ghost of Nicolai Atherton flickered and wavered in the moonlight. He fixed Alexander with a gaze that made him wonder if the ghost could even see any of the others at all. The ghost looked around as if searching for a threat in his unseen world before speaking. “Danger comes. Phane has summoned nether wolves to hunt you.”
No sooner had he given his warning than he turned abruptly as if to face an enemy and then flickered out of existence. A moment later, an inhuman howl shattered the night, followed by another ghost that flickered into view and darted through the campground toward Nicolai Atherton. Alexander didn’t get a very good view of the second ghost except for the ornate crest of the House of Reishi emblazoned on his breastplate. As everyone stood frozen in fear and disbelief, they heard the ghost of Nicolai Atherton call out from a place beyond the world of life, “Flee!”
Lucky and Anatoly looked at each other. Abigail and Jack looked at Alexander.
Alexander stood and took command. “Anatoly, prepare the horses. Everyone else, strike camp quickly. We ride in three minutes.”
Without looking to see if anyone even heard him, Alexander turned and began rolling up his bedding. A moment later everyone else sprang into action. The camp was struck in minutes and they were riding carefully through the night by the light of a half moon.
“We’re going to have to risk the road. I don’t know what nether wolves are, but I think I’d rather face the Reishi Protectorate, and we can move faster on the road, especially at night,” Alexander said. He could just barely see Anatoly nod his agreement as he
rode beside him through the darkness.
They reached the road after only about an hour of careful riding across the uneven cropland. Anatoly stopped them for just a moment. “If we come on a camp, don’t stop to fight, just ride. It’ll take them a few minutes to get on their horses, so we’ll get a head start. Our best hope is speed.”
They rode through the night with as much speed as they dared. It was dark but the light of the moon was just enough to keep them on the well-traveled road. Alexander could feel the tension and almost smell the fear of the others. Fighting men was one thing, but ghosts and nether wolves, whatever they were, was something else altogether.
As the night wore on they all began to suffer from exhaustion. The horses were getting tired and slowing down until finally, Alexander ordered a halt. They needed to stop for a few minutes to rest. They dismounted and Lucky fished around in his saddlebag for some dried fruit that he passed around. Their rest break was brief. Alexander felt a growing sense of uneasiness. He knew they wouldn’t survive an encounter with creatures from the netherworld at night out in the open. He didn’t know how far away the creatures were, but he didn’t want to take any chances.
“We need to get moving. We’ll walk our horses for a few hours. They need some rest or one of them is liable to collapse.”
The night was cold and calm. The stars glittered in the sky as the half moon began to slide toward the horizon. They’d been traveling for several hours when Alexander came to an abrupt halt.
He saw the campfires a long way out. He guessed that the Reishi were a mile ahead and camped right on the side of the road. Dawn was still a couple of hours away, so they at least had darkness and surprise on their side.
Alexander heaved a sigh. “We can go around or we can go through. Neither option sounds very good at the moment. Going around will put us out in the open with exhausted horses when the light comes up and going through gets us into a fight that we probably can’t win.” Alexander stared off toward the enemy trying to find a better option.
Abigail shook her head, “It’s too bad we can’t steal their horses.”
Alexander spun around and smiled at his little sister. “Who says we can’t?”
Anatoly was incredulous. “Are you kidding? You want to walk into a hornets’ nest when we could just go around?”
Alexander smiled fiercely. “Exactly,” he said with a firm nod. “Lucky, Abigail, and Jack will take our horses around the camp to the west. Give them a wide berth. They may have lookout posts a fair distance from their camp. Move quickly but stay as quiet as possible. Anatoly and I will meet you on the road north of the Reishi camp. Be ready to ride because I suspect we’ll have a swarm of hornets after us.”
Anatoly stood staring at Alexander with his arms folded across his chest. “How do you propose to sneak into their camp without notice?”
Alexander grinned. “I’ll explain along the way. Let’s go. We’ll need the darkness to make this work.”
Anatoly harrumphed and shook his head but didn’t object.
They moved down the road quickly but quietly. Alexander let his vision go out of focus every ten steps or so. He was looking for the telltale glow of a human aura. He had always had an advantage in the dark. He could see people’s colors, even at a distance, even in complete darkness, and even if he couldn’t see them with his normal vision.
When Alexander saw the first sentry posted along the road, he stopped and motioned to Anatoly in the dim light. They moved to the east of the road and quietly crept up on the guard. He was sitting with his back against a large stone jutting out of the ground alongside the road. When he coughed quietly, Anatoly marked his position. The big man-at-arms moved with surprising stealth as he circled the mercenary in the blackness of night. Once he reached striking range, he lunged over the top of the rock with his long knife and brought the blade down over the surprised guard’s head and into his heart with one stroke. The sentry didn’t even have time to scream. Anatoly took the dead guard’s heavy crossbow but left the quiver of bolts with the fresh corpse.
They made it to a slight rise on the road. Alexander could see the entire camp from their position and could clearly see the larger, less complicated colors of the horses. They were picketed together as he hoped they would be. He pulled Anatoly down and whispered to him in the darkness. “The horses are off to the side of the main camp and it looks like there are only two guards near them.” He pointed into the night to give Anatoly a general direction of their destination.
“How many men in the camp?” Anatoly asked.
“Looks like about thirty. I only see four standing watch, but there are probably a few lookout positions farther out.”
Anatoly nodded and they started moving. The two men guarding the picketed horses sat on either side of a small fire. They were clearly not concerned that they would be attacked. Anatoly and Alexander could see they were passing a jug back and forth. Two more men were sleeping not far from the fire.
Anatoly had taught Alexander and Darius how to move through the night, how to test each step for footing and noise before they committed weight to it. It was a game they played when they were children. Alexander was good at it. They moved without a sound.
They made it to a boulder resting on the open plain and crouched behind it. Anatoly handed Alexander the loaded and cocked crossbow and drew a heavy throwing knife from his belt. Not thirty feet away, the light of the fire silhouetted the two guards. Anatoly threw his knife first, followed closely by Alexander’s crossbow bolt. The heavy knife buried itself up to the hilt in the side of the first guard’s neck. He stiffened and slumped forward into the fire. The second guard’s eyes went wide a moment before the crossbow bolt plunged into the side of his chest. He tried to gasp but couldn’t. He pitched forward into the fire and dropped the jug, which shattered on the rocks ringing the fire.
The two guards sleeping nearby stirred at the sound. One sat up and looked toward the two men slumped into the fire. Their hair was starting to burn, mixing foul-smelling smoke with the cloud of steam from the cider that had splashed into the hot coals.
Alexander and Anatoly were up and running. Anatoly drew his short sword and headed for the remaining two guards. Alexander sprinted through the night the short distance to the horses.
The two guards who’d been sleeping came fully awake when they saw Anatoly coming for them. The first struggled to free himself from the blankets of his bedroll before the charging man-at-arms could reach him. He just managed to get to his feet but was still wrapped in his blanket when Anatoly ran him through. The second man came up out of his bedroll, sword in hand, with a loud battle cry. He slashed at Anatoly, who deflected the blow with the heavy bracer he wore on his left arm, running him through as well.
Alexander worked quickly. He was pretty sure the alarm would be raised, so he didn’t let the battle cry of the now dead guard distract him. He had a set of five horses strung together, one to the next, with ample lead lines between them so they could all run freely. He left the first horse tied to the picket and went to work on the second string of horses when Anatoly rushed up.
The rest of the camp was coming alive. Men sleeping not fifty feet away were struggling to get free from their bedding and take up their weapons. The camp leaders were shouting orders. Alexander knew they didn’t have much time.
“Anatoly, cut those horses free.” He pointed to the second picket line.
Anatoly didn’t hesitate. He used his razor-sharp short sword to quickly free the horses. He could hear men running toward them. As he cut the last horse loose, Alexander rode up next to him and handed him the reins of a horse with another four horses tied to it in a long string. Anatoly swung up onto the bare back of the horse just as a crossbow bolt whizzed past his head. Alexander had already spurred his string of horses into an almost reckless dead run through the predawn blackness. Anatoly kicked his horse into a gallop.
They raced toward the road at an angle that took them clear of most of the onrus
hing soldiers. Both leaned into their horses and held on for dear life as they barreled through the night. Fortunately, the road was close enough that they reached it before the camp could come fully awake. The few soldiers that tried to stop them found themselves in a cloud of dust as Alexander and Anatoly raced away with a string of fresh horses each.
As they put distance between themselves and the now furious Reishi Protectorate soldiers, Alexander relaxed his guard. He felt a thrill of triumph. His plan had worked. They’d secured fresh horses and scattered their pursuers’ mounts into the night. It would be dawn before the soldiers could gather enough horses to give chase, and with a string of horses each, Alexander knew they would be able to outpace any pursuit.
Anatoly rode up beside him, and Alexander flashed his old teacher a cocky grin. Then the sky behind them burst into an orange glow. Alexander’s smile quickly faded when he looked back to see a jet of bright red-orange fire rising from the camp they’d just raided. The flame rose high into the air and fanned out into a disc of brightly glowing fire to form a halo over the entire camp, providing the enemy with ample light to round up their remaining horses.
The feeling of triumph quickly faded. He just caught the reproving glance from Anatoly when a sentry stepped out of the darkness and shot him with a crossbow.
Thinblade (Sovereign of the Seven Isles: Book One) Page 14
