by James Wisher
Col picked up the pace to just short of a jog. If they reached the river they might catch a barge floating by that would give them a ride. The way his luck was going Col considered that a dim hope.
They hadn’t covered more than a mile when Rain pulled up short. “Stop a minute, my leg is killing me.”
Col crouched down beside her. “Where does it hurt?”
“My right calf.”
He brushed her skirt aside and tried to ignore the soft, smooth skin and focus on the problem. Though Col had some training in the healing arts it didn’t take a genius to see the muscle had clenched into a tight ball. He needed to massage the cramp out. Col put one hand on her foot and the other on the knotted calf.
Rain tried to pull away. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“You’ve got a bad cramp in your calf. I need to stretch and massage it to relax the muscle.”
She frowned down at him, but some of the tension left her. Col pulled her foot back and rubbed the tight muscle. She groaned, and the muscle unclenched. He kept rubbing her calf for another minute, maybe a little longer than strictly necessary, before setting her foot down.
“Better?”
She sighed. “Much, thank you.”
He smiled, surprised at her civil reply. “You’re welcome. We need to keep moving.”
The rush of the river reached Col’s ears at the same moment the timbre of the howls behind them changed. The wolfmen had finally cut their trail. It wouldn’t take them long to catch up now. They reached the bank of the White River a minute after they heard it. Wide and deep, the White River carried thousands of tons of goods down to Rel from all over the kingdom, and right now as far as Col could see in either direction not a single barge cruised the river. They just couldn’t catch a break.
They followed the river’s rocky bank, the howls growing ever louder. Rain kept glancing back over her shoulder. “Do you have a plan if they catch up before we spot a barge?”
“We can always swim for it.”
“I was afraid you might say that.”
Col swallowed a curse. “Please don’t tell me…”
“I can’t swim. I’ve never liked the water.”
“So much for plan B. It wasn’t a good plan anyway. We’re bound to come across something better.” The ring stung his finger when he lied. He glared at it. They might find something better and he didn’t need his jewelry judging him.
They picked their way along the bank for a quarter mile when Col spotted the first trap bobbing in the water. He bent down and pulled it up. No otter, a fresh perch inside. He had an idea now where they might find what they needed.
“What’s that?” Rain asked.
“Salvation, come on.” Col sped up, keeping an eye on the bank. They passed three more traps before reaching a well-worn path leading from the forest to the river’s edge. Col turned up the path, growing more eager the closer they got.
“What, exactly, do you expect to find at the end of this path?” Rain asked between gasps.
“A boat, perhaps some supplies. I suppose a cold flagon of ale would be too much to hope for.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“No, Princess, those were otter traps I spotted. This path is where the trapper drags his canoe down to the river. The traps had fresh bait so I’m hoping he’s back with his canoe from his morning run. If not we’ll head back to the water and start your swimming lesson.”
“That’s not funny. What makes you think this man will give you his canoe?”
“Because I’m the one with the sword.”
The trapper’s log cabin, a simple, one room affair constructed of rough-hewn spruce, waited a couple minutes from the river. A slick little birch bark canoe leaned against the side of the cabin under a dozen stretched otter hides nailed to the wall. It looked like the trapper was having a good season so far. Col started for the canoe, but managed only a couple of steps before the cabin door opened.
A grizzled old man with a gray beard stood in the doorway. He wore a long jacket of tanned leather decorated with a variety of tails that dangled like tassels. “Help you, boy?”
“We need your canoe. There’s a pack of wolfmen on our trail so I can’t stay and chat.” Col started toward the canoe again.
The old man darted out the door and got between Col and the canoe. He held a wicked, drop-point hunting knife at the ready. “That canoe’s my livelihood. You take it and I’ll starve to death.”
A howl rang out. The wolfmen sounded less than a mile away. He didn’t want to hurt the old trapper, but they had no more time to argue. “It takes weeks to die of starvation. If you don’t get out of my way I’ll kill you a lot faster than that.” Col pointed west. “I recommend you run that way. The beastmen want us, not you.”
Col didn’t know if the howls or the look in his eyes convinced the old man to run, but after a final glare the trapper trotted off in the direction Col had pointed. He sighed and lowered his blade. He hated killing humans. It felt like doing the beastmen’s work for them. Col grabbed the canoe and pulled it away from the wall. Underneath he found an oar and a leather satchel.
“Grab those.” Col started toward the river, carrying the canoe over his head.
They retraced their steps and Col slid the canoe into the water. He held it steady so Rain could climb in. She put a foot in and it wobbled. She looked back at him, eyes wide.
“I won’t let you fall in,” Col said. “Hurry.”
Rain gathered herself and climbed in. Col pushed the canoe a few steps out into the water and clambered in beside her. He took the oar and paddled out toward the middle of the river.
Loud howls sounded behind them. Col looked over his shoulder and found five of the biggest wolfmen he’d ever seen standing on the bank snarling at them. He let out a long breath. That getaway had been far too close for his liking.
“Can they swim?” Rain asked.
“I hope they’re stupid enough to try. Stabbing them while they’re paddling toward us would be easy, but I don’t think we’ll be that lucky.”
Chapter Nine
Col didn’t bother to paddle; instead he let the current do the work. He adjusted their course when the canoe strayed too far from the center of the river, but otherwise just enjoyed not having to run for a while. The wolfmen kept pace with them on the bank. He glanced over every once in a while. Col didn’t know much about reading wolfman body language, but that bunch looked pissed. He grinned.
“What are you smiling about?” Rain asked.
“Just enjoying the wolfmen’s travails. How are you holding up?”
She sighed. “I’m glad to get off my feet and terrified that this little boat will tip and I’ll drown.”
“Don’t worry; the White River doesn’t have any rapids on this end. Try to get some sleep. You’ll need all your strength when we leave the water.”
Rain closed her eyes for a few seconds then opened them again. “Would you have killed that man if he hadn’t stepped aside?”
“Yes.” He would have hated it and been sick for days, but he would have done it. Col grabbed the satchel from the floor of the boat. He rummaged through it and found six strips of jerky. He offered one to Rain. “Hungry?”
She frowned at the strip of mystery meat then started gnawing. A minute later her throat worked as she swallowed the stringy meat.
“Not exactly gourmet, but better than yesterday’s lunch.” Col took another bite.
“We didn’t have any lunch yesterday.”
Col smiled. “Exactly.”
“How can you smile at a time like this? I can’t decide if I want to cry, scream, or both.”
“We’re still alive, Princess. We have a nice, wide river between us and the monsters that want to eat us. Last night, when we lay under those Pixie Pines, I figured we were dead. All day today I figured those wolfmen would catch us and kill us. They didn’t, we’re alive, and safe, for the moment at least. How could I not smile? Though I will grant you t
hat our situation has room for improvement.”
Rain stared at him for a moment then threw her head back and laughed. She laughed so hard her whole body shook. When she got herself under control she said, “You’re mad.”
“Perhaps, a little. It’s not such a bad thing in this line of work.”
When Col judged Rain had fallen asleep he took the satchel and combed through it. The old man packed the necessities, but not much else. He found string and wire for repairing traps, a skinning knife that looked sharp enough to shave with, and a line with a hook on the end. Col took the line and tied it around his finger. Not the best arrangement, but maybe he’d catch something. He baited the hook with a piece of jerky and tossed it into the water.
Col sighed, feeling like a kid again, fishing off the end of the dock. He enjoyed the illusion for a few minutes before a frustrated howl from the river bank drew him back to reality. The sun would set in a few hours. How long did those wolfmen plan to follow them?
He woke from a doze when something tugged on his finger. Col blinked sleep from his eyes. The tug became steady, and he remembered the fishing line. He hauled the line in, hand over hand. When he pulled the end out of the water a fat, foot-long trout wriggled on the hook. Col’s mouth watered.
Some quick knife work and he had a pair of clean fillets. He tapped Rain’s foot and she sputtered awake. “What?”
Col held up the fillet. “Fresh food.”
He handed her the fish. Rain held it between her thumb and forefinger at arm’s length, like he’d handed her a dead rat. “I can’t eat this, it’s raw.”
“Raw fish is perfectly safe, just mind the pin bones.” Col picked meat from around the little bones. It needed salt, olive oil, and five minutes over a hot fire.
“It’s not so bad.” Rain picked the meat from her fillet.
“Nothing like missing a few meals to help you appreciate the next one.” Col finished his snack, baited the hook with some of the guts, and tossed it over the side. Four more trout like that and he might feel full. “I haven’t had fish that fresh since I left home. Though the odd bits I picked out of the fish monger’s trash pile weren’t as tasty as trout.”
Rain finished the last of the fish and tossed the skin into the water. “You got your food from the trash heap?”
“On a good day.” Col yawned. He needed a little more sleep.
“A good day? What did you get on a bad day?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing! Surely your parents could afford to feed you?”
“My father got crippled in a work accident. He fell from the mast of the ship he was helping build. The more experienced healers from the temple were tending the lord mayor. It seems he had an upset stomach. A first year initiate botched the job setting his legs so he couldn’t work anymore. A year later my mother and sister died of Red Haze. He turned inward and stopped interacting with the world. I was eight when it became clear that if I wanted to eat I’d best learn to manage on my own. The lord mayor was fine; I heard several large belches settled his stomach.”
Rain stared at him, mouth agape. “That may be the worst thing I’ve ever heard. How did you go from that to a squire?”
“When I was ten I spotted a rich looking noble walking through the market and tried to pick his pocket. He caught me and dragged me back to the one room shack where my father and I lived. He was going to tell my father what I’d done and leave my punishment up to him. When he saw where we lived and the state of my father he offered to take me in.”
“That was Sir Geris?”
Col nodded and smiled a sad smile. “He made me his page and gave my father a room at his estate and a nurse to look after him. When I showed him I wasn’t afraid to work hard and could follow rules he made me his squire. That’s been my life until the beastmen arrived.”
“No wonder you honor his last order with such zeal. To think that a nobleman’s stomachache changed your life to such an extent.” She shook her head. “If our places were reversed I would hate nobles as well.”
“It wasn’t the stomachache, Princess. It was the arrogance to believe his needs required not one, not two, but all three of the temple’s senior healers. He left nothing for anyone else. Every noble I’ve met thinks the same way, save one, and he’s dead.”
Rain stiffened. “Do you think I’m the same sort of arrogant noble?”
Col looked away from her toward the bank. The wolfmen had given up the chase for now, though Col doubted they’d seen the last of the beastmen.
“Answer me!”
Her commanding tone set Col’s teeth on edge. “Do you think you aren’t? When’s the last time you did anything for anyone?”
She opened her mouth and pointed at him then blew out a sigh. “I can’t remember.”
Col nodded, but remained silent.
* * *
“You let them escape!” Zarrin stood in the night-shrouded courtyard listening to the psychic voice of the Pack leader. The Pack had failed him. It took all the self-control he had gained over the past nine hundred years not to call the Dark and send it screaming through the link he shared with the Pack leader. Even the best hunters had a bit of bad luck now and then. “Return to the castle. There’s other work to be done.”
Zarrin severed the connection and headed into the castle. He’d prepared a casting chamber in case he needed to perform more potent magic. It seemed he’d need to use it sooner than he expected. In a windowless room in the basement Zarrin sat in a rune-inscribed circle. He placed his hands on the floor and channeled the Dark. The runes flared with purplish-black flames. Nothing could approach his body now without facing annihilation. With his protection in place Zarrin began the spell that would free his spirit from its current host.
Ten minutes later Zarrin’s disembodied spirit floated above his body, a silver cord extending from his heel to the top of the corpse’s head. The psychic tether would allow him to return in an instant. Zarrin willed his spirit up and out of the castle. It took only seconds for him to fly to the White River. He followed it south until he found, floating as peaceful as you please, the two fugitives.
The princess slept in the front of a small canoe while the boy guided it, half asleep, in the back. This would be simple. Zarrin floated down toward the boy. The princess’s celestial blood, thin as it was, made it impossible for him to possess her, but blood didn’t come any more common than the boy’s. He’d take control of the boy’s body, strangle the girl, and then cut his throat with his own sword.
Zarrin reached out to enter the boy, but before his spectral form reached the boy’s body he struck a glowing barrier of Light. He snarled and drew back. How could the boy have any protection from him? Zarrin peered closer and around the boy’s neck hung a gold amulet. Someone gave the whelp a knight’s medallion. The mystic connection between the amulet and the holy sword protected him from Zarrin’s touch. Worse, in his disembodied form he lacked the use of his other magic.
Zarrin cursed silently in a language that no longer existed. He couldn’t kill them now, but he knew where they were headed: the only possible place was the Port of Rel. He willed himself back to his body. The weight of the corpse settled around his spirit and Zarrin stood. A wave of his hand dissolved the protective barrier. Zarrin sent a silent call to his army. When the princess arrived in Rel she’d find his army waiting.
* * *
Col’s back popped as he stretched. He’d spotted the small island, more of a gravel bar if he was honest, in the middle of the river and beached the canoe to give them a chance to stretch their legs. After most of a day in the cramped canoe it felt great to walk around.
“How long until we reach the city?” Rain asked.
“A day, maybe two. That reminds me.” Col held out the satchel. “Put your jewelry in here.”
Rain smirked at him. “What is this, a robbery?”
“Hardly, but all that gold will attract too much attention in Rel. We need to look like we have nothing worth stealing. I
promise if we live you can have it all back. Or at least whatever’s left after we hire a ship to carry us to Celestia.”
Rain offered a long-suffering sigh and pulled off her jewelry. “What’s so great about Celestia anyway?”
“It’s the most powerful of the Lake Kingdoms and the royal family has a reputation for generosity. Hopefully they’ll offer you sanctuary.”
“Father always said Corinthia was the strongest.” She stopped walking and spun toward him. “What do you mean offer me sanctuary? Don’t you mean us?”
Col shook his head. “Once you’re safe I’m coming back to hunt down the bastard that murdered Sir Geris.”
“Don’t be stupid. He’s got an entire army. What can you hope to do on your own?”
Col shrugged. “I don’t plan on taking him on alone. They attacked the capital, but there are thousands of soldiers garrisoned around the kingdom. If I can warn them, gather them together, we can hit back. I’d be useless hanging around at court in Celestia. I doubt the nobles there have any more use for a commoner than the nobles in Corinthia did.”
“What about me?” Rain’s voice held a little tremor. “You’d leave me all alone in a strange country?”
“You’d be among your own kind. You’re a princess after all, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of people sucking up to you before long.”
“My own kind? You talk like I’m a different species.”
Col headed back to the canoe. They needed to get moving again. “Do you remember the first time you spoke to me?”
Rain blinked and shook her head. Her eyes widened. “At the stables, just a few weeks before the attack.”
Col held the canoe steady. “That’s right. You ordered me to fetch your horse. No greeting, no acknowledgement that I existed beyond your needs at that moment. You didn’t see another person; you saw a lesser being who served no purpose beyond doing what you wanted when you wanted it. That’s all people like me are to your kind. Servants when you need something and invisible when you don’t.”
