Keep on the Borderlands

by Ru Emerson - (ebook by Flandrel; Undead)

  “Thanks to you, I’ll have that story to tell, lad,” the Keep man said. “Boy pulled me right up there with him, and me half again his size.”

  M’Whan shrugged that aside, but his color was high as he went to help his father pull dead orcs from the camp.

  Jerdren looked around, then raised his voice. “What damage, people?” he asked.

  “A few ugly cuts and bruises on our side, and not much worse,” Eddis said. “M’Baddah, we can use you here, dressing cuts! Anyone who’s not badly injured, help drag those brutes out of here.”

  “Search ’em first,” Jerdren called out, as he looked up from an examination of one of the dead orcs hear the fire. “Remember what we found last night!”

  “Orcs,” Eddis muttered with distaste. She wasn’t ready to search through one of those greasy leather jerkins. Fortunately, no one else seemed to share her feelings. She sheathed her sword and winced. Her left arm was beginning to ache in earnest where that shield had slammed into it.

  Jerdren came up moments later, grinning cheerfully, a heavy purse swinging from his left hand.

  “Well!” he said cheerfully. “There’s one way to wake up the company, right, Eddis?”

  “It’s hard on the porridge,” she replied dryly. “Why don’t you get that pig out of the fire pit? The fire’s going out, and the last watch hasn’t eaten yet.”

  He tossed her the purse and bent to drag the smoking orc away. Eddis gazed at the bag with mixed feelings. It was heavy, but it was also soaked with blood. She dropped it on the ground and rolled it in the dirt and left it there for the moment. She clapped her hands together to get the men’s attention. Her arm throbbed in protest.

  “Anyone who’s hurt, even a scratch, you know which of us has healing potions! Poisoned blades, remember? A dirty sword cut can kill you just as dead or cost you an arm! Those of you who haven’t eaten, do that now! Rest of you, let’s finish searching the dead brutes and get the bodies out of camp, and as for any orcs still alive—well, you know what to do. Let’s get it done!”

  She turned to look for Jerdren. “Jers, do we have someone on guard?”

  He nodded.

  “Good. I’ll help M’Baddah clean wounds. You finish searching those creatures, if you don’t mind.”

  “Didn’t realize you were squeamish, Eddis,” her co-captain said. His glance flicked toward the filthy pouch under her toe.

  “I’m not. I’m being practical. It’s poorly tanned hide, and now it’s soggy with orc blood. You put that in your pack, and the whole thing’ll smell like rotting meat in a day or so. I’m letting the worst of the mess soak into the dirt before I pour out whatever’s in there and count it, if you don’t mind.”

  “Oh.” He blinked. “Didn’t think of that.”

  “No, you were thinking of gold and gems. Remind the other men, will you?”

  “Good point.” He turned away as Mead came back into camp. “What’s still out there?” he asked.

  “They are gone,” the elf mage said. “Still running, as far as I can tell, but at this hour I have only charms to assure me of that.” He pulled his book of spells from its leather shoulder bag.

  “That’s good enough,” Eddis said. “You’re exempt from cleanup, of course. You’ve got your own important task.”

  He merely nodded and settled close to the fire on his blankets once again, book open.

  Blorys had come in and was watching her, she realized. “Let me worry about cleaning cuts, Eddis. Your arm is hanging limp, and I can see the pain in your face whenever you move it. Go, get M’Baddah to fix you up.”

  She nodded and he smiled suddenly. “You paid attention to what I told you back in the Keep, didn’t you? I just happened to turn when you took down that last monster, and when you could see he was still a threat, you didn’t try to finish the job yourself. Sensible swordswoman, that’s you.”

  Eddis could feel her face redden. “Sensible swordswoman wouldn’t be out here, fighting nasty creatures twice her size. But thank you.”

  “Of course. Stay sensible, swordswoman. Get M’Baddah to tend to that arm, will you?”

  She nodded and watched him walk over to help Jerdren pull the dead orc from the fire pit. His words warmed her. Sensible, hah, she thought. Well, see you stay that way, Eddis. Because by this time tomorrow any of you—including Blorys—could be very dead. A wise swordswoman would think of any fighting companion as sword-fellow and friend, but nothing more.

  It took time for the men to haul the massive bodies away. By the time Jerdren and the others returned to the camp, their provisioner had a fire going once more and the last of the porridge reheating. The men who’d been on guard when the orcs attacked ate as the others began packing up their blankets or retrieving what unbroken arrows and other weapons they could. Mead turned the pages of his book. Eddis sat cross-legged on her blanket, counting out the contents of the orc’s purse Jerdren had tossed her—most of the weight came from copper pence and a small bar of silver that gleamed wetly in the early morning sun.

  There were also two odd little bundles of sticks and string. M’Baddah, who sat close by bandaging one of the injured, looked them over carefully and suggested she give them to Mead.

  “I think they are fetishes, but he may know what they are used for and if they are dangerous for us to keep.”

  “I didn’t think of that,” Eddis said. She dropped them atop the dust-coated bag and wiped her hands on her breeches.

  It was quiet for some moments, except the crackle of the fire, and the faint groans of one of the spearmen who’d received a nasty crack on the back of his head. Fortunately, his helm had kept him alive.

  Jerdren came back into the clearing and knelt at the fire to pour hot water over his bloody hands. None of it seemed to be his blood. He blotted them on his shirt and grinned at Eddis.

  “There’s one way to work up an appetite!”

  “Not my favorite,” Blorys replied. He’d come up behind her and settled down next to her. “Arm better, Eddis?”

  She nodded.

  “Good for your reflexes, a fight like that,” Jerdren said. His grin faded. “We need to talk. The few orcs we left alive ran, and from what I saw, I’ll wager they’re still running. Maybe it was just our bad luck to pick a place to camp where we’d cross paths with ’em. Still—is it possible there’s a hold of those brutes around here?”

  The Keep men eyed each other. “There’s no rumor of a hold,” one said finally. “Now and again, hunting parties’ll see prints that might be orcs or other such creatures. And they’ve been seen at a distance—but only a few of ’em at a time. Fewer than we fought here.”

  “But you don’t send patrols eastward, do you?” Jerdren asked. “And you don’t hunt this far into the wilds, so would you even know?”

  “I would know if there was a hold close by,” Mead said. He was stowing his book in its case as he came up to join the others. “I tested this area for evil before agreeing we should camp here, if you recall, and I made sure none of the orcs we fought last night had followed us.”

  “Oh, right.” Jerdren rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It just seems odd, as much wilderness as there is, that they just happened to wind up where we are.”

  “We didn’t travel that far last night, and we weren’t exactly being quiet, this morning,” Eddis replied dryly. “And there’s the fire. With this wind, they could probably smell the smoke for a long ways. But if you ask me, it doesn’t matter if these orcs were part of last night’s bunch, or if they’re a completely different troop.”

  “It might matter,” Jerdren said. “Because if there are bands of ’em wandering around out here, that just might mean we’re close to a den. We aren’t out here to battle orcs. They’re big and nasty, and cursed few of ’em carry what I’d call a decent pocketful of coin. Besides, if there’s orcs all over the place here, what chance is there we’ll find that band of robbers in the same area?”

  “I’m not arguing with you,” Eddis said.

>   One of the spearmen looked up from his pack. “I’m remembering something,” he said. “About two years ago, there was a company of men rode in from the east, early in the year. They told us they’d had one fight after another—orcs and all manner of other creatures—some distance from the Keep, where the road runs through heavy woods, down in a long, deep ravine. They broke free, finally, but half their number were dead, and most of their pack horses were gone, too.”

  “That long ravine is at least another day’s ride from here,” another said. “Up where the caves are, or so it’s said.”

  “Caves?” Jerdren sat up straight and suddenly looked very interested. Blorys sighed quietly.

  The Keep man shrugged. “Back when Macsen was still lord of the Keep, men went farther from the walls, and all this around here was peaceful. None of us here have ever seen the caves. There’s always been stories, though, about a great run of caverns where monsters of every kind live.”

  “Oh.” Jerdren waved that aside. “No robbers there, then. That’s too far a distance for the men we’re seeking, anyway.” He came partway to his feet and looked around. “We just about ready to move on?”

  “Nearly,” M’Baddah said. He was rubbing salve into an armsman’s cut fingers, while Mead tended to the man with the aching head.

  “Good.” Jerdren broke out his map. “Anyone got an idea where we are? I mean, we re obviously somewhere in this area.” He pointed at a place well within the woods, where they came down close to the road.

  “More like here,” one of the archers said. He indicated a place farther south. “We don’t come this far to hunt, not often, but seems to me I’ve been here, time we came down the road last year. If I’m right, the river’ll be right close to the road when we do come into the open, and there’s the swamps just on the other side.”

  Blorys came around to look over his brother’s shoulder. “You know,” he said, “I’ve been thinking about the other side of the river—not where it’s swampy, but back west. Here, where the water divides, those are islands, right? This time of year, will the river be low enough to cross?”

  The archer nodded. “This time of year, water’s almost warm, and it’s low enough to ford, plenty of places. We haven’t looked that far east of the Keep, partly for the distance, partly because they’d see us coming down from the Keep road and have all the time they’d ever want to set an ambush.”

  “Yes,” Blorys replied, “but this time, they don’t know we’re out here.”

  “Unless they’ve heard all the fighting,” Eddis said dryly.

  “True. Even if they did, there’s no reason they’d suspect who we are or why we’re here. It just seems that this area is fairly close to the Keep, near enough to make it easy for men to see what’s on the road and go after it, but still far enough away that men could bring their horses down to the river to water them and not be seen. Especially if they come down at dusk.” He ran a thoughtful finger along the river. “Since they know the Keep isn’t sending men to look for them, then I’d wager they aren’t changing their camp very often. If at all.”

  Eddis nodded. “Makes enough sense to test your idea, Blorys. You think we should—what? Pick a couple good trackers and hunters, send them across the river to check the banks for prints, and see which way they go?”

  “Exactly. Even if the tracks fade out on hard ground or stone, we’ll know where to start. If I’m right, there should be plenty of signs of their passage.”

  “Besides, it’s about the best choice left,” Eddis said. “We haven’t found anything to show they’re north of the road. The other side of the river seems the next best chance for finding them, I’d say.”

  She looked around the fire. Everyone seemed ready to move on, and their provisioner was ready to douse the fire.

  “Like you said, Jers, probably those orcs are still running, but I’d feel pretty stupid if we were still sitting here when they came back. I say we move out now and move as fast as we can. Once we reach the south edge of the woods, we can look over the land, make certain exactly where we are, and decide what to do.”

  Jerdren nodded and rolled up his map. “Good idea. Let’s get going.”

  Eddis backed away from the fire pit as the cook emptied his pot over the fire.

  �At least one of you hunters out front with me,� Jerdren said. �And Willow? You�ve got good ears, I’d like you at the rear. Eddis?”

  “Rear with Willow, or flank,” she said.

  He grinned cheerfully. “I was just thinking, way you carved up those two orcs just now, maybe we want you in back, in case they try sneaking up behind us.”

  “Funny man,” she retorted and scooped up her pack.

  The ground remained fairly level, the woods open. Eddis could see well into the trees on both sides, but steady wind high in the branches made too much noise for her to hear anything else. By the time Jerdren called a halt, she could clearly make out the road, and across it, a bright green line of brush that marked either the river or swampy ground.

  Jerdren beckoned her over as two of the Keep men went a little farther on. They were back within moments.

  “I was right,” the archer said. “Fens and bogs are ahead, just across the river. That big mound is about dead ahead of us, and the river bends back south again.” Jerdren had his map out, and the man pointed. “Just here.”

  “So the islands are back west along the road,” Jerdren mused. “We’ll stay in the trees, take a short rest there, then find a place to look out where they are. We can decide what to do at that point.”

  They went on, paralleling the road but still in tree shadow. Afternoon shade soon hid most of the land to the south, deep shadows cast by the hills rising steeply out beyond the river. Jerdren chose a small clearing a little farther back in the woods, and dropped his pack.

  “Cold camp tonight,” he said. “If the men we want are up on that hillside somewhere, a fire might be seen.”

  Eddis settled on her heels, back against a tree. “So—where from here? And who’s going?”

  “Best plan, I’d say, is you and I, M’Baddah, and a couple of the Keep hunters go down to the road, see what we can make out. Go from there.”

  She shoved to her feet for answer.

  Willow came with them. “There is nothing coming along the road, in either direction,” the elf said quietly. He couldn’t have been heard at any distance beyond his companions. Wind blew dry brush and dust westward along the road. “I can see no movement south, toward the river, either, but there is plenty of tall brush out there, between us and water.”

  Jerdren peered and finally shook his head. “I can’t even see that. No sign of movement up on the hillside, either, but it’s kind of dark over there.”

  He took a step toward the open, but Willow held him back.

  “There is still light on the road. If anyone was watching over there, you could be seen.”

  “Maybe,” Jerdren replied with a shrug. “Still—I don’t see anything high enough out there where someone could be spying on the Keep.”

  “We’re too far east of the Keep for that,” one of the hunters said, “but look a little farther west. The slope goes up sharply, and it drops off to the west. If I was setting a watch, it would be on the west edge there.” He pointed.

  “Then we need to go farther west?” Jerdren asked, but M’Baddah shook his head.

  “Even if the watch is up there, I think no one would set a camp up there. Too much trouble to get in and out. Likely the camp itself is in thick woods, fairly close to the water. Soon there will be ice and snow on the heights, and if we are searching for signs of men and horses along the water,” M’Baddah added, “then it makes sense to me that we start here and work our way back west, toward the Keep.”

  “I agree,” Eddis said. “If there’s nothing else we can see out here, I say head back to camp, and decide who goes…”

  She fell silent as Willow held up a hand. He was gazing back the way they’d come.

 
“Enemy. Men there,” he whispered sharply, and drew his sword.

  Jerdren shook his head dubiously but drew his sword as a bowstring twanged loudly, and a man yelled in pain. Someone else swore.

  M’Baddah and Willow were already running quietly and swiftly through the trees, Eddis and the others right behind them. The elf held up a hand as they neared the camp and gestured with his chin. A man lay dead a few paces ahead, between them and the camp. Three others were shooting arrows into the small clearing, and as they watched, one of the men fell. More yelling from the far side of the camp. Jerdren touched Eddis’ shoulder to get her attention.

  “We’ll send M’Baddah and Willow around the north side. Keep those for ourselves.” He grinned tightly as the elf vanished quietly into the trees. “I’d say—” he was counting under his breath—“about now.”

  There was more yelling north of them, all at once, and then M’Baddah’s voice: “Eddis, go!”

  She threw herself at the nearest of the archers with a hawklike scream. The man yelped in surprise as he came around, the bow falling from his hands, but as she closed with him, he drew a dagger from his sleeve and brought it up in a slashing backhand, inside her down-swing. Pain flared hot and sharp across her cheek. Her earlobe stung, and blood ran down her neck. She fell back a pace, and the man came after her.

  “Fool!” she snarled and lunged. The sword went deep into his belly, and the hilt was torn from her hand as he fell. She set one foot on his chest, fought the weapon free, and brought it down in a hard arc across his throat. He shuddered, went limp. Cursing steadily, she shifted the blade to her left hand and felt her face cautiously. A long cut ran from her jaw nearly to her nose. It stung, and her ear throbbed. Most of the blood came from a small nick at the base of the lobe. Messy, a little uncomfortable, but nothing more.

  The clatter of fighting ceased, as suddenly as it had began. Jerdren had one of the men by his leather jerkin, a thick-bladed dagger held against the fellow’s throat. He looked at her in sudden concern.