Chapter 6
†
A Traitor
Even my close friend, someone I trusted, one who shared my bread, has turned against me. Psalm 41:9 NIV
Deborah stood frozen, unable to breathe. Where is Bobby going and why? This wasn’t the first time she’d seen him sneak out of camps at night and return a few hours later, but she had always assumed there must be a good reason. Then she remembered the Glenwood atrocities. Samuel had aired his concerns that the Prophet’s army seemed to know too much. Is there a spy in our midst? And now, Bobby was again taking off in the middle of the night, and this time she was sure it could not be an errand for Samuel. Throwing on her leather jacket over her night-clothes, Deborah decided to follow him. She thought of waking Eric, but by that time, Bobby would be well gone. Quietly slipping out of the front door, Deborah looked around, hoping to catch sight of him in the street. Just then, under the light of the moon, she saw his shadow disappear around the corner of the inn. He was walking quickly, taking huge long strides as he turned north-west out of town toward some outlying houses.
It was difficult keeping up with him as he moved forward quickly toward a farm-house. A chill of fear rose up Deborah’s spine as she saw him enter one of the barns next to the main residence. Her heart was thumping in her chest as she crept up close to a window. Muffled voices were coming from inside. She looked through the lattice-covered window. Clearly visible in the candlelight, two bearded men held shaggy ponies. Bobby was meeting with Raiders.
Deborah hurried back to the inn, nearly leaving her slippers behind in her haste. She was desperate to make it back before Bobby. What was he doing there? Trembling, she let herself in through the front door, flying up the stairs to her room, where she collapsed on the bed, trying to come to grips with what she’d just seen. I have to tell Eric! But before she could take any action, she heard the front door squeak open and footsteps heading toward the boys’ room. Bobby was back. I’ll tell Eric in the morning.
Deborah’s eyes closed, and sleep overcame her. But her slumber was fitful, and she awakened several times.
The smell of bacon woke Deborah in the morning, just as Hannah had said. For a moment, she thought she must have been dreaming, but then she saw she’d fallen asleep with her leather jacket still on over her night-clothes. Hannah had washed and dried her old clothes over the fire, so she dressed quickly. Scurrying down the steps to the breakfast room, Deborah almost knocked Bobby over.
“Sleep well?” he asked, smiling, as if all was as usual.
“Y-y-yes thanks,” stuttered Deborah, hardly able to look into his eyes. “Where’s Eric?”
“Oh, he’s gone to organize Harley and his men. They should all be here soon for breakfast.”
A sinking feeling fell in her stomach. She had been hoping to catch Eric alone and warn him about Bobby’s late night trip to the Raiders. Her nerves began to get the better of her, but she tried to appear calm.
“Is there something wrong?” asked Bobby.
“N-n-n-o,” stammered Deborah. “I think I just need a cup of tea to warm me up.”
“Here, let me help you,” offered Bobby, acting like a perfect gentleman. Pulling out a chair by the hearth in the breakfast room, Bobby asked Hannah to immediately fetch some tea for Deborah as she seemed unwell.
“Thank you,” whispered Deborah, unable to say much more.
Hannah began to set the tables as eggs and bacon were brought out on wood platters. She also brought out freshly baked bread with whipped butter, and creamy milk. Acting as if he was sorry that Deborah seemed unwell, Bobby took it upon himself to sit next to her. She tried to act normal, hoping that Eric would be back soon and that she could find a chance to be alone with him. Just then, Harley and his men arrived with Eric in tow, laughing and cheerful after a good night’s sleep.
“Hey, you two!” he greeted them. “You both look as though you could use a few more hours’ sleep.”
Bobby shrugged. “Maybe tonight. I’ll have an early night then.”
Deborah watched as Eric sat at the furthest end of the table, and Jarrad took the seat next to her. She was squeezed in between Bobby and Jarrad, who both wanted her attention, which made it difficult to talk to Eric. Harley was busy pouring coffee, reaching for food, and talking constantly. She couldn’t even get any eye contact with Eric, so immersed was he in conversation.
“More tea?” asked Bobby.
She nodded as Jarrad passed around mounds of warm buttered bread, offering her a thick slice.
“Tea…and bread…thank you, Bobby, thank you, Jarrad…I feel totally spoiled,’ she said, pretending to smile.
The time was ticking away, and, with every passing moment, Deborah knew it was imperative to get Eric’s attention. Something was wrong. Her instincts told her that very soon they would all be heading into danger. Maybe she could tell Jarrad what she saw. Could she trust him?
Before she could make a decision her chance had passed, and all the men were preparing to leave. Helms were donned, breastplates adjusted, and weapons loaded onto the horses outside. It was a calm, summer morning with a brisk breeze blowing north. Crispy white clouds floated in blue azure skies promising a clear day without any rain. An air of excitement hovered around the troops as they willingly mounted their stallions. The men followed Eric as he motioned them to move forward. Deborah had learnt that her place was near the rear of the column where it was safer. Slowly they made their way northwest out of Castle Rock heading toward Samuel’s camp. Perhaps recruits will be arriving from other towns and villages.
The sound of horses’ hooves was all Deborah could hear as they began to gallop, setting a fast pace toward their destination. She began to think of the possible danger, praying that God would keep them safe from harm. If only I could warn them about the Raiders! She felt guilty for keeping silent, but some instinct told her to hold her tongue. There were a few hilly areas to cross, but once they were over them, they would be safe. Suddenly Deborah noticed that Bobby was falling back, slowing his horse down until he was riding alongside her.
“I just thought I’d see if you’re alright,” he shouted above the noise of the ride.
She nodded as if to say yes, thinking it strange that Bobby was showing so much concern when he never had before. They were now approaching a hilly area with a scattering of trees, just beginning to bud. Then, up ahead she saw them coming—a force of Raiders bearing down upon them from the west. They were outnumbered.
“Quick,” shouted Bobby. “Turn hard right into those cottonwoods and follow me. That way should be a short cut up the ravine to Samuel’s camp. We must warn him.”
Deborah did not know what to do. Is he planning to kidnap me? She had no reason to trust him but did not want to make him suspicious. I have to do something, and he is taking me out of harm’s way. Following his instructions, the last thing she heard before she turned off was the sound of horses neighing, men shouting, and the metallic sound of swords drawn in battle. With a heart thumping wildly in her chest, Deborah rode like she had never ridden before, keeping close to Bobby as he took them down to a valley from which she could see a stream that seemed to lead from the vicinity of Samuel’s camp. It was a thirty-minute ride from there which seemed to last forever, but at least the danger was behind her and not in front. She wondered if Bobby had known about this raid and was using her as an excuse to get away. What had he told the Raiders last night?
Deborah’s mind was spinning out of control. I know, I’ll tell Samuel everything when we get back. He’ll know what to do.
When they arrived at the field where the Blade troopers had their camp they saw Don and Samuel talking to a group of armored men. Riding into the camp so quickly must have alerted them to trouble brewing.
“What’s your hurry, young man?” Samuel asked as Bobby quickly dismounted and ran toward them.
&n
bsp; “It’s the Raiders…they’ve attacked us on our way here. I fell back to help Deborah and keep her out of danger…Eric is back there fighting them off now, but he has a band of twenty good men from Castle Rock with him, fully armed and armored.”
Deborah knew that Bobby had fallen back just before the attack…he must have known about it! He must have set the trap himself. Frustrated, she drew attention to herself by storming off to stand under the nearest poplar tree, mumbling to herself.
“Deborah hasn’t been well,” added Bobby. “She’s been off-color all morning.”
“See to Deborah, Don, while I talk to Bobby. Then come and join us for a meeting.”
Don walked over to Deborah, who said nothing until she was sure she was out of earshot from the others.
“Don…Don,” she said with tears in her eyes. “If only you knew what…”
“Knew what, Deborah…are you alright?” asked Don with concern in his eyes. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes and sensed her tension. He led her from the shade of a tree to a tent set up next to the wagons. “Here you go, just lie down on my cloak and have a rest. You had a close call and look as though you need some sleep. I’ll be right back after talking to Samuel.” And with that he turned to go.
“Wait, Don,” said Deborah.
He seemed to sense urgency in her voice and turned back. She briefly told him of her suspicions. He stared at her for a long moment. He looked at the ground and rubbed his eyes.
“That is a shock, Deborah,” he said. “You have done well. We will talk later.” Then he was gone.
Deborah realized that she would have to wait until the meeting was finished. She wondered how Eric, Jarrad, Harley and the other men were faring. At least they had their mail, breastplates and helms. She recalled her last memory of the awful sounds of battle. Hopefully, they would survive and return soon. If they were killed, she could never forgive herself.
The meeting seemed to last for ages, and Deborah found that all the events of the last few days were now taking their toll. Curling up on Don’s wool cloak, she finally succumbed to a deep, blissful sleep, unaware of anything, not even the late return of Eric and the Castle Rock men, who rode quietly into camp, battle-scarred and bleeding…but still alive.
Chapter 7
†
An Uncertain Trumpet
For if the trumpet gives an uncertain sound, who shall prepare himself for the battle? 1 Corinthians 14:8 KJV
While Deborah slept, Samuel, Don, and the rest of the commanders stood around a campfire as Bobby related the story of the attack on the way. They were pleased to hear that twenty able-bodied men from Castle Rock had been recruited, but how many would make it here to the camp? The news that Raiders had appeared this far south was grim, indeed.
“Sounds fishy to me,” said Samuel. “Seems very strange that the Raiders would suddenly appear. How could they have worked their way this far, this quickly, without being seen? How did they just happen to attack our new recruits and know the exact path they were travelling on? Does anyone in this Castle Rock group appear suspicious to you?” he asked Bobby.
“I doubt it. They all seem like a tight-knit group. The general feeling in Castle Rock is hatred for the enemy, and there are no kind feelings there for the False Prophet.”
“Hmm,” said Samuel, stroking his full, grey beard. “Very well. We have to move quickly. Don, send half of the Blades Troop. Bobby can show them the way.”
Don said nothing about what Deborah had said. But when he issued the orders to Slim, who already had a force assembled, he whispered a warning to keep a careful watch on Bobby. Slim looked at him and agreed. They mounted, and with Bobby leading the way, they started south.
Don had started to go with them, but Samuel called him back. “I need you here. They should be able to handle the Raiders. Blast, I wish we could have talked the war council into sending at least two troops, but what’s done is done.”
Don retied his mount to the picket line. Then they started walking toward the tent where Deborah was resting. Samuel continued to muse about the attack. “All we can do is wait. It’s at least an hour’s ride to get there from here and return. But if the Raiders are as lightly armed as Bobby said they are, they might be in for a surprise. Either way, the battle will be long over before our troops get there. Those Castle Rock men have a reputation of being as fierce in battle as the Vikings, the ones who lived long before the Elder days. It was work well done that they were recruited. Their muscle will be an asset, even though they are few.”
Don nodded in agreement, remembering studying his history books about the Vikings and their skills in warfare. “I agree that it is suspicious that they were attacked. Samuel, Deborah said—”
Suddenly, they heard hoof beats approaching the camp. It was Eric and the new recruits, some wounded but still smiling, as they rode in and proclaimed victory against the enemy.
“The enemy lost eight men, sire,” he reported to Samuel. “And we lost none, but we have some wounded who need attention.”
Jumping to assist those in need, Samuel’s regular horse troopers helped the injured dismount from their horses. They gave first aid, washing the wounds in alcohol, then stopping the bleeding with clean cloths. Thad, the healer, began treating the most serious cases.
Slim and the horse troopers rode in close behind them, smiles on their faces. He had decided not to try to run the Raiders down, without explicit instructions from Don and Samuel to do so.
Harley approached with a salute as he said, “Pleasure to join ye, Samuel Warren. Yer name is still known hereabouts and valued far and wide, or so we hear.”
Samuel returned the salute with a rare smile. “Harley, you old goat. It is good to see you again! I’ll wager it was you that recruited these men. You were always spoiling for a fight.”
“I may have one more good fight in me, at that.” He returned a lop-sided smile, caused by an old scar on the corner of his mouth. He and Samuel shook hands.
“Sit, sit in the shade as soon as you have tended your horses,” Samuel ordered the new men. “There is a barrel of cool water in the shade if you are thirsty. We will have some food brought out shortly.”
He turned back to Harley. “Once we have bandaged the wounded, we need to get organized to recruit men from all these local villages. The enemy is coming and will certainly attack the towns of the eastern plains. We need to convince Hightower to take action. Did you meet Deborah?”
Harley nodded.
“Did you take any captives?” asked Samuel.
Harley looked puzzled. “We did take a couple…but it was a strange thing.”
“What? Go on.”
“They were seriously wounded, but we couldn’t stop the bleeding. Yer bodyguard, Bobby, said he had some medical training, but he only seemed to make things worse. Both bled to death…”
“Both died?” asked Samuel. He ran his hand over his brow as though he wanted to check his thinning hairs. “Why would he say that? I don’t think he knows anything about healing.”
They stared at each other for a long minute.
†
Shadows began to lengthen as they received a message from the mayor. Colin and Don were examining a sketch map of towns in the immediate area. Samuel was sitting on a folding camp stool by a small fire when he opened the folded paper. “Hmm…” he said, half to himself. “It seems that we are not given the keys to the city just yet.”
“What does that mean?” asked Colin, as Eric joined the group.
Don knew sarcasm when he heard it. “The mayor is not going to shower us with blessings?” he asked.
“He says that our unexpected arrival means that he will not be able to give us accommodations until tomorrow night.”
“Probably he is showing that he is irritated that we give him no advanc
e notice,” said Don. “Maybe he’s also embarrassed that we were able to surprise his forces so easily.”
“Nice to be appreciated,” commented Eric.
“We will be just fine here,” said Samuel. “We need to lay out a schedule of patrols to visit each settlement like you did Castle Rock. How did Deborah do? Did her story of the Glenwood massacre help spur them to action?”
“She did well,” Eric replied. “She told her story with passion. Everyone stopped to listen to her. It was so quiet in the inn that you could hear the grass grow. It was as if they were waiting for a spark to set them off. She was the spark!”
“Hmm…Yes, well it is a shame that she can’t go along to tell her story in every inn in the area. But she is only one person. Still, we can say that we have an eye-witness along, for anyone who doubts the tale.”
“I have some information for your ears alone,” said Don to Samuel.
“About the Raiders, I expect.”
“The Raiders complicate things,” said Don, nodding. “We don’t know how many may have come over the Western Wall and are waiting to pounce on our patrols. Sending out groups of three or four is far too dangerous now.”
“You are right, of course,” said Samuel. “Perhaps that is the reason they were sent this way.”
That thought hit Don with an almost physical impact. What if Samuel is right? That would mean that the enemy understood what they were trying to do. Bobby must have been sending them information. Someone also had seen a way to make alerting the towns more difficult. He could not see the hand of General Logan. The General seemed to think the only answer to every problem was overwhelming force and massed numbers. This is too subtle. It seems to be a clever mind at work. Could it be Balek Brown? Or have we come to the attention of the Prophet, himself?
The False Prophet (Stonegate Book 2) Page 7
