Leaf and Branch (New Druids Series Vol 1 & 2)

by Donald D. Allan

  Brent had moved around the house in the armour, with the sword slung over his right shoulder, and was surprised by just how comfortable he felt in it. It had been years since he had worn field plate but he didn't remember it fitting this well or being so light. The joints were well cared for and the chain components were silenced with very thin, but tough, leather placed between the metal parts. Overall, the armour was noisier than his cuirass but not much heavier. He liked it. It suits me, he thought and grinned. Thanks, Bill. This time you are likely saving my life.

  A strange bird call sounded from the backyard and two shapes materialised on the back porch. Brent could barely see them. When they drew close enough Brent could see James and Comlin dressed in specialised leathers. Each carried a bow, quiver and sword. Excellent, now to just get the fuck out of Jaipers.

  "You two are looking dapper. Nice leathers," said Brent and meant it.

  Comlin and James looked over the surcoat and James pulled it back a little to peer at the armour underneath. "Looking good, sir. You'd think it was made for you."

  "Bit of luck that. I won't jinx it," said Brent. "Let's be about this gentlemen. Lead on Reeve Comlin."

  "Steve. Call me Steve. Reeve Comlin is no more, I'm afraid."

  "Steve? No, I don't think so. You'll always be Comlin to me, I'm afraid. But, pleased to meet you, Comlin. Call me Brent. You know James, I think? Now that we're introduced, please lead the way."

  "Ass."

  Brent chuckled. This was going to be fun.

  Comlin pointed to the wooden fence behind his house and ducked low and ran over to it. Brent and James followed. Brent couldn't hear Comlin or James move. I, on the other hand, sound a little louder than normal. Neither of the other two seemed to mind. They reached the fence and Comlin lifted up a section of it and motioned for them to slip through underneath. This followed with a blur of backyards, fences and roads. Patrols would appear around bends and they would wait, hidden, hearts racing, for them to pass. At last they reached an alleyway that opened up to look out over the closed North Gate. Torches lit the entire area and they could see the gate was manned by eight men. Four men in two groups patrolled the approaches and stayed within sight of each other and the gate guards.

  Comlin ducked back down into the alley and stayed to the shadows at the back. Brent was very impressed with Comlin. He moved like no one he had ever met: completely silent and his armour hid him from view unless you knew where to look. His hair and eyes were the more telling and Brent said so.

  Comlin looked surprised for a moment and then reached up to his collar and did something. He unrolled material sewn into the suit and pulled it over his head. It was a headpiece of some sort. Made of cloth but looking the same as the suit pattern. It pulled down over his eyes and nose and hid him almost completely. There were slits over the eyes.

  "Right" said Brent.

  Comlin motioned to James to come closer and twirled his finger. James turned his back to him and looked over his shoulder. Comlin reached into James collar and pulled out the same hood and helped him pull it over his head and tie it in place.

  "I can't believe I forgot about these."

  "Comlin, just what were you before you were the Reeve here?" asked Brent.

  "Truth?"

  "I prefer it."

  "I was a highwayman. And, before you get all judgmental, I worked for the Baron of Turgany." Comlin looked at James and smiled.

  James mouthed "I knew it."

  "You worked for the Baron of Turgany. Robbing people on his roads." The doubt was clear in his voice.

  "We didn't rob just anybody. We robbed the Lord Protector's people. And that money went straight to the Baron."

  "Uh-huh."

  "Don't judge, I said. We hate the Lord Protector down south. Not my fault you're sworn to protect him."

  "Huh. We'll talk about this later. First, you two should know I carry a diary on me. Wrapped in oilskin. Tucked into my breeches. It was written by Redgrave. Outlines all the illegal things the Lord Protector did over the years. Well, at least back when Redgrave was the Knight General. Anything happens to me, see it gets to my brother in Munsten. He can add it to the case file we're building."

  "Okay. Not judging either, then."

  "Alright."

  Comlin turned his attention back to the gate. "This way is fucked. No way to get past all these men."

  "How about a diversion?" suggested James.

  Comlin glanced over at James and snorted. "A diversion? So you're a romantic? Read all those fairy tales about knights confronting large numbers of adversaries and prevailing against the odds?"

  James said nothing.

  "Welcome to the real world, James. That way is death. This way..." and Comlin pointed down the alley to the village wall. "Is life. Choose quickly."

  "Um, life?" said James.

  "Good choice. Follow me."

  Comlin led them directly over to the palisade. The thick wooden logs were buried deep into the ground and rose up over twenty-five feet. Here, near the gate, the wall was stronger and Comlin stopped for a second and took his bearings. Then he led them along the wall and away from the gate. After only thirty feet or so he stopped and looked around. They were standing on river stones. The whole area was thick with them. Comlin seemed to stop at random and then reached down and pulled up a section of stones. He grunted with the effort and James rushed over to help him. Brent couldn't believe his eyes. It was a trapdoor with river stones fixed to the top at least two layers deep. It was excellent workmanship. It must've taken a long time to manufacture and position. Brent looked down and saw a crawl tunnel leading down and under the wall. It was reinforced with wood to keep it from collapsing. It was a marvel and shouldn't exist.

  "How?" he asked.

  "I was here when the wall was built. I paid the crew to build this for me."

  "Why?"

  "I always have an escape route. Always."

  "And this crew, why wouldn't they tell someone? Sell the information?"

  "Because they were my crew, from my days as a highwayman. I had a problem to deal with and invited my crew down. Let me solve a nagging problem from my previous employment. Enough chatter. Let's go. We still need to make the docks."

  They crept into the tunnel and lowered the trapdoor back down. It was completely dark but they crawled on hands and knees by feel until they stopped some twenty feet or so on the other side of the wall. Brent couldn't tell exactly how far they had crawled, but it couldn't be much farther than that.

  "Where does this emerge?"

  "Inside an abandoned shack outside the wall."

  "How do you know it's abandoned?"

  "I pay for it to be abandoned, that's why. Enough questions — ask me all you want once we're safe and gone from here. James move up beside me and help me push."

  Brent listened while James slid up next to Comlin and heard grunting. It seemed to get a little brighter and then Brent heard a dull thud. Brent moved forward and crawled out of the opening to stand up in a small wooden shack. The trapdoor was a pile of useless wood scraps on this side. They closed it and it disappeared into the clutter inside the shack.

  Brent thought back to something the Reeve had said. "What did you mean about a nagging problem?"

  Steve looked Brent straight in the eye. "I rooted out a traitor in my crew and dealt with him. We just crawled over his grave."

  Brent looked down at the hidden trapdoor and thought back to the long, dark tunnel. Surely the Reeve couldn't be serious about a body being buried under that? Surely, not.

  Steve interrupted his thoughts by clasping his shoulder. "The docks are only half a mile away. Normally it's pretty congested out here. Lots of people. I can't guarantee we make it unobserved. If we get separated where do you want to meet?"

  Brent tore his eyes from the trapdoor and thought for a moment. "Jergen. In the Cathedral."

  "Jergen? That's a long way off."

  "Halfway to Munsten. Sounds like a good place to meet."


  Comlin looked long and hard at Brent. "One day we will need to talk about what happened back in the community building."

  "When I understand it, you will be one of the first to know."

  "Okay, fair enough. Let's be about this."

  Comlin led the way out of the shack and they blinked against the brightness of the moon. Comlin wound his way past the ramshackle buildings. Inside people were loudly snoring. Only occasionally did they see anyone awake and they stayed well clear and out of sight. Finally, after what seemed like hours to Brent, they reached the river. Ahead of them, the docks were lit up with torches and Comlin brought them as close as he could before stopping.

  "All right. From here it will be tricky. See the barges? The one we want is on the farthest dock. It's called the Seasonal Witch. The owner is a friend of mine. He's the one that delivered the note to me earlier. Ah, shit!"

  "What is it?"

  "The note. That bastard took it."

  "What was on it?"

  "It was a note from the lad with the coin."

  Brent raised his eyebrows.

  "Yes, the very same coin. In the note, he tells me where he is. Places him in Jergen and he mentions the farm. Someone smart can put that together. Seth seems like that kind of smart — fanatical — but smart. The most dangerous kind."

  "Why do I care about this lad and the coin?" asked Brent.

  "Cause that young lad is a druid. Everything that has happened so far involves that young man and that damn coin. If you'd seen what he can do you'd understand. That bastard Seth Farlow was hard after him. Ask yourself why the Church of the New Order would be so interested in him. Then ask yourself why you shouldn't want to keep him away from all that. I'm after Will to see he's safe. I need to join him and help him. The good news is that if he's at the farm he is surrounded by some of the toughest sons-of-bitches there are in this world — my crew."

  "Your crew?" asked James.

  "Yes, my highwaymen. Baron Turgany gave us land when things started to get too hot. They work the land up there. Been years since I've been to visit but last time I was there it was a massive operation. I think you should head there and regroup. Figure out what to do next."

  Brent grew silent and thought for a moment and sighed. "My mission is over and likely my career. I doubt I have a position in Munsten anymore." He looked to James and saw concern there. "Fine. We head east to this farm and meet this druid of yours. I'm curious to see if he's truly a demon like Seth says he is. If we are separated we meet in Jergen at the Cathedral. Let's go."

  Comlin studied Brent for a moment and then nodded. He looked about and then darted out onto the dock and started weaving his way around the crates and stores stacked by the barge gangways. Brent followed and then James. All the way down the dock Brent expected to hear shouts of alarm. His heart pounded in his ears. And then, suddenly, it was over. They reached the barge and crossed the gangway.

  Comlin brought them across the open deck and directly into the large shack located centrally to the craft. Inside they found a sleeping barge captain. Brent shook his head in disbelief. How could this man could sleep through a crisis? he thought. Comlin went over to him and covered his mouth and whispered in his ear. "Captain, it's me Comlin. I've a favour to ask you."

  The man woke, startled, and then relaxed when he saw it was Comlin and the words sunk in. He rose with a grimace and glanced at Brent and James. He looked over their armour and then focused on Comlin.

  "Reeve? What are you doing here? I thought you were killed!" The captain embraced him and then held him out at arm's reach. "Why are you dressed like this?"

  Brent could hear the North-Western accent on the man. He's a long way from home, he thought. From Cala or Central Port.

  "Sorry to disappoint and sorry to scare you, Captain Atwell. Yes, I'm still alive. We need passage east to Jergen. Can you take us?"

  The captain looked to James and then Brent. "You," he said, pointing to Brent. "You are the General from Munsten?"

  "Yes, sir. I am."

  "Why should I take you to Jergen? What happens to me then?"

  "I could tell you it's your duty to serve the Realm but I doubt that would sway you." Brent reached into his armour and pulled out a coin pouch. He opened it and pulled out four gold crowns. He held them out and dropped them in the open palm of the barge captain.

  "I see. Very well. I can take you."

  "Thank you, my friend."

  Captain Atwell pointed to Comlin. "Him. He's my friend. You. You are paid passengers. I must tell you though. You are not alone here. There is one other on board."

  "Who?" said Comlin.

  "Dempster. He's in the secret hold. Says he must escape Jaipers. Says the Lord Protector has found him. Does that make sense to you?"

  Comlin looked first to Brent and then back to the captain. He started to laugh. "Yes, sadly it does. Bring us to him. It's good he's here. We'll eat well at least."

  Forty-Three

  Rigby Farm, 900 A.C.

  IT WAS MID-FALL and the Mabon Days were now fading. The farmhands had brought in the harvest and a great many were still living out on the outskirts of the farmland with their scythes and bailing wire. Carts and horses trundled in and out and disappeared for a few days to Jergen to sell their wares at market.

  The farm had changed over the past two months and Nadine and I had studied together and talked about how we would approach teaching at the farm. It was complicated in that we had no idea how many students we would have. Nadine and I practiced our magycs and together we were learning how to control what we did. I was getting used to life on the farm and went where I could to help with the crops and healing the occasional injury.

  I watched as Katherine guided her horse around the paddock. The horse was running tirelessly and Katherine turned in spot to keep herself facing it. She wasn't using her powers that I could sense. Instead, she was using her experience to teach the horse. She was in such control and I admired her skill.

  The other day, Katherine had explained what she did with the horses when I had asked. I had thought it a simple exercise ring for the horses and, when I had said that to her, she laughed and told me firmly "No, it's not that at all!" She explained — inordinately pleased to know something I didn't — that the paddock was used to get a horse to trust people. She said it was more mental than physical. I didn't get it. It looked like exercise but she just shook her head and tried again to explain it to me.

  "The horse," she had said, "is focused on the human in the middle of the round corral. It barely registers that it is running. If you just keep running the horse it will stop and stare at you. I hate it when they do that. They're smarter than dogs, you know. Anyway, you need to keep the horse focused on you. Make eye contact. Talk to the horse. I can't explain it better than that. The horse just kind of bonds with you. Learns to trust you."

  Now, I leaned against the top of the fence with one foot up on the bottom rail watching her train the horse. I was wearing the same thick blue cotton pants the farmhands tended to favour. Ben had called it denim and I liked wearing them. It wore well and offered good protection for farm work. Katherine glanced over at me more and more often until finally she stopped the horse. She walked over to join me and squinted up at me.

  The sun was high in the sky and the heat still reminded us of summer. I watched the horse. It seemed content to remain standing where Katherine had left it. Her control of animals was incredible. I used my senses, but felt nothing between her and the horse. The horse simply followed her orders. I looked over to Dog who lay in a patch of grass near the paddock, panting in the unseasonably warm heat. He followed Katherine everywhere now — never left her side. I missed his constant presence but I knew he loved me. Our bond was still strong. I could see that the bond between Dog and Katherine was tinged with white and I smiled.

  "Hello, Katherine."

  "Hello, Will."

  "How long have you been working with this horse?"

  Katherine
turned her head sideways and glanced back at the horse. "Chester? Since this morning."

  "You taught the horse all that in one morning?"

  "Yeah, he was kind of ornery. Hard to get through to him. But we have an understanding now."

  "An understanding?"

  "Yeah. He'll listen so long as he gets the respect he wants."

  "And you know this how?"

  Katherine looked a little wary. "I dunno. I just do."

  "Have you ever been wrong?"

  "Wrong?"

  "Yes, wrong about what you think an animal thinks or wants."

  "Why would I be wrong?"

  I chuckled and stood up straight and stretched. "Let's go for a walk. I think better when I walk."

  Katherine nodded and whistled over to a farmhand working nearby. "Bill, can you brush down Chester and put him back in the stable?"

  Bill nodded and started over.

  "Bye Chester, see you in a bit!" called out Katherine and vaulted over the paddock fence. "Okay, where to?"

  "The orchard I think. I like it there."

  We walked in silence for a time. Dog trotted along beside Katherine. I looked at our bond and tried to get a sense of her. It was always a little strange with her. I felt slightly disconnected. I could get a sense of her emotions but not much else. I thought I understood it, but had to find out for sure. I thought I knew what was happening. Gaea had changed the rules. Rules I was only just figuring out.

  "You and Dog seem to be happy together."

  "Oh, yes. He's a wonderful dog. He really likes the name Dog, by the way. He understands it and approves. His name before was something he didn't like. He won't tell me what it was."

  "His name before?"

  "Yeah, he lived on a sheep farm. Worked all the time. His owner wasn't very nice so he left. That was hard for him. He's ashamed, I think."

  "I see." The orchard was just up ahead but I changed direction and started toward the sheep pen. "Follow me."