by James Wisher
He held up the bowl. “Breakfast.”
She crawled out of the tent and snatched the bowl out of his hand. “That’s an awful way to wake a person up.”
Col took a bite of his food and fought to keep from smiling. “I tried shaking you, but it didn’t work. It’s not my fault you’re a heavy sleeper.”
She huffed and ate her oatmeal. When they finished Col broke down the tent while Rain returned the bowls. With their meager possessions packed Col went to see Ged.
He found the refugees’ leader at the center of a gathering of ragged men armed with spears and a mishmash of farm tools. Not the most awe-inspiring group of warriors he’d ever seen, but they looked determined. Ged spotted him approaching and waved him over. Besides Ged, the only one he knew was Colt’s brother, Hal. They exchanged nods, but didn’t speak.
“Col, I was just setting our marching order.”
Col nodded. “If you have no one assigned to it yet, I’d like to scout around and check for beastman activity. Be good to know what we’re walking into.”
Ged’s eyes widened and Col suspected sending out a scout had never occurred to him. “Good idea. Make sure you report back by noon, we’ll stop for a lunch break and you can give us the lay of the land.”
“Will do. Does anyone have a bow? If I jump a deer, I can bring back some fresh meat.”
“I’ve got my Da’s bow,” said one of the younger men, a redhead with a dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose. “I ain’t much good with it and I only got four arrows.”
“Would you mind if I borrowed it?” Col asked. The kid looked younger than him and so nervous he couldn’t meet Col’s eyes.
“You can have it. Like I said, I ain’t much good with it.” The kid ran off, Col assumed to fetch the bow.
“You any good with a bow?” Ged asked.
Col thought about the squire’s tournament. Had it only been five days since he beat Callion? “I’m a fair shot. Good enough to bring down a deer anyway. Where are we headed?”
“Baron Dorrik has a keep a week’s march north of the city. We hope to find shelter there. It’s the only secure place I know hereabouts.”
“I’ll say goodbye to Rain and get going.”
Col left the men to their plans and returned to the campsite where he’d left Rain. She sat beside a bucket of water scrubbing out bowls. He stood a little ways away and enjoyed the sight of her washing dishes for a few seconds before he approached.
When he got close Rain looked up and scowled at him. “Is this what you meant when you suggested I make myself useful?”
“It’s a start. I’m on scout duty so I won’t see you until noon. Do you need anything?”
Rain chewed her lip and looked away. “I need so many things I don’t know where to start, but I don’t imagine you can provide any of them. Go on, Mara’s been very kind, I suspect I’ll survive until you get back.”
He crouched down beside her. “We’ll be okay. You’re doing great.” He reached out, took her wet hand and gave it a squeeze. To his surprise she didn’t pull away.
* * *
Rain watched Col as he walked away, leaving her alone for the first time since the attack. Her throat tightened and her hands shook. She clenched her fists in the dirty water. All she had to do was keep quiet and try to help where she could, like cleaning bowls in filthy water.
She rubbed her hand where the squire had touched it. Rain still didn’t understand him. Sometimes she’d have sworn he hated her and would have been happy to leave her behind and at other times he tried to make her feel better in his own clumsy way. He had a sweet manner, if far too blunt to ever make it at court. Some of the things he said made her think in ways she never had before.
“Are you done, sweetie?” Mara asked.
“Almost.” Rain finished the final two bowls and put them in a pile with the rest.
Mara collected the clean bowls and put them in a crate for transport. The group of refugees had a rickety push cart they loaded with their meager supplies. A few minutes later the group of perhaps fifty people had formed a ragged line and set out.
Rain didn’t look forward to another day of hiking. Her slippers had worn so thin she might as well be barefoot. Every other step she took felt as though she found a rock under her heel. The women and a few children walked in the center of the line where they were safest. Having seen what the beastmen could do, Rain didn’t find ten farmers with hunting spears reassuring.
A groan caught her attention. It came from the man Col had helped the night before. Four of the women carried him on a litter. A little way up the line a man with an injured knee limped along, head down, teeth clenched against the pain. No one else seemed to have heard, so she walked over beside the litter.
“Do you need something?”
He shook his head and reached for her hand. It surprised her so she flinched back. He looked at her with pleading, pain-filled eyes. The bandage on his leg appeared near-soaked through with blood. He winced at every jostle of the litter. Rain took his hand, and he sighed, a little smile on his face. Did it mean so much to him to hold her hand?
Rain walked along beside him for the rest of the morning, watching as he slipped in and out of consciousness. When they stopped for lunch the injured man had fallen unconscious again. She slipped away to get food and water for the both of them.
Partway to the cart Rain spotted Col emerging from the woods. He’d acquired a sheath for his sword and a bow. Perhaps he’d stolen them from another dead man. Rain shook her head. That wasn’t fair, and she knew it. It looked like he was headed toward Ged so she turned in that direction. He saw her approaching and waved, like a concerned brother happy to see his sister. Col played the part well; she had to give him that.
Rain and Col reached Ged at the same time. “What did you find?” Ged asked
“Nothing. I scouted three miles ahead before I swung back around.”
Rain stared at him. He walked as far as they did plus over three more miles? How could he be strong enough for that?
“I didn’t see any signs of beastmen, and the path looks okay. After I get a bite to eat I want to check our back trail and make sure nothing’s following us.”
“Good idea. You and your sister get some food. We’ll make camp at sunset; you can catch up with us then.”
Col indicated she should go first then he followed behind. They collected slices of bread covered with cheese and apple then went a little ways off so they could talk in private.
“How are you holding up?” Col asked.
“I’m fine. I walked beside that man you helped last night. He seemed glad to hold my hand for a while.” She took a bite of food to cover her discomfort. The way Col looked at her she suspected she failed.
“You can’t blame him. Few things offer more comfort to a dying man than the chance to hold the hand of a beautiful woman. It was good of you to do that for him.”
Rain shook her head and felt her cheeks flush. She didn’t know how to feel around Col anymore. It was so much easier when he was the ignorant commoner that hated her. It got harder all the time to think of him as less than her. She’d never seen anyone work as hard as he did. “Do you think he’ll die?”
“Most likely.” Col popped the last of his lunch in his mouth. “I hope I’m wrong. If he lives and the beastmen catch up to us a hard decision will need to be made.”
A hard decision? What did that mean?
* * *
Col left Rain as soon as he finished his meal. He wanted to backtrack at least two miles to check for beastman signs. The princess seemed to be doing well which came as a surprise, albeit a pleasant one, to Col. She had come a long way in a few days. No doubt getting jolted out of her comfortable world had played a major part in the transformation.
He remembered the pensive little frown on her face when he told her about the servants he knew, the lives they lived. For the first time in her life they became real people to her rather than mere servants. As she
changed Col found he liked her despite himself. She had a lot of spirit, and that body…
Col shook his head. He had to focus; the back trail would be more dangerous than the forward scout, as he expected the beastmen to come from behind. He slipped through the forest as quietly as he could, moving from the cover of one tree to the next. Half a mile from the refugees he crossed a fresh deer path. Much as he would have liked to track it down and bring back some fresh meat he didn’t want to take time from scouting for beastmen. They seemed to have food enough for the moment so security came first.
The open hardwood offered him good lines of sight. Col stalked through the forest for several hours seeing no signs of pursuit. He dared to hope the defenders of Rel had the beastmen’s army held up. Every hour the defenders held out was that much further the refugees could get away.
The shadows lengthened and Col thought about returning to the others. He’d covered four miles of their back trail before swinging north. He wanted to get back before dark. It would be an embarrassment to get killed in the dark by a scared farmer.
He turned toward where he figured the refugees would stop for the night. He hadn’t gone a quarter mile when he crossed wolfman tracks. “Light burn me.” He bent down; the tracks looked fresh, a few hours old at most. They headed away from the caravan path, but if scout packs were out then Rel had fallen.
Col got up and jogged toward camp. They couldn’t risk fires tonight, wolfmen could smell the smoke from miles away, and if they did they’d fetch their friends.
Chapter Twelve
Col crouched above a little creek and watched as the doe approached, head up, ears pricked. He had an arrow nocked, but the deer needed to come a few steps closer. He didn’t want to risk wounding her and losing one of his four arrows. Two days had passed since he spotted the first signs of beastmen in the area. None of them had gotten close to the refugees yet, but it was only a matter of time. They needed to pick up the pace, but the weakest members of the group could go only so far, so fast each day. The risk wasn’t great enough that hard choices were necessary.
He shook his head. At this point he doubted the group had the will to do what they had to for the majority to survive; they’d become too close, like a family. If a large group of beastmen caught them out in the open they’d be a dead family. He and Rain needed to get away before it was too late.
The doe lowered her head to drink and Col tightened his grip on the bowstring. He eased the arrow back. The fletching had almost touched his ear when the doe’s head popped up and she bounded out of the clearing. Col shifted his gaze in the opposite direction. Something had startled her and judging from the way she ran it wasn’t him. A moment later a pair of wolfmen loped into the clearing. Damn it! He’d only gone a mile from their last camp to hunt this morning. The wolfmen couldn’t help but stumble on the refugees at this rate.
He didn’t have a choice. He loosed the first arrow and had the second on the string before it hit.
The first wolfman went down clean, an arrow in its throat.
He rushed the second shot and hit the other wolfman in the gut. It howled, but didn’t go down, instead running into the bushes.
Col tossed the bow aside and ran down the bank, drawing his sword from its borrowed sheath as he went. If the wolfman escaped and reached it comrades they wouldn’t have a chance.
Col smashed through a thicket and found the wolfman limping away, grasping its stomach.
He charged. The wolfman heard him coming. It spun around, making a weak slash at him with its claws.
Col ducked then bounced up, driving his blade into the monster’s chest. Blood bubbled out of its mouth and it collapsed. Col ripped his sword free and leapt back in case more of them were nearby.
When nothing tried to kill him for a full minute he flicked the blood off his sword and sheathed it. He toed the wolfman over on its back and found his arrow snapped in half.
“Damn it!” Now he only had three, assuming the arrow in the first body was salvageable. He collected the first arrow without damaging it and cleaned up in the brook before turning back toward the refugees. The beastmen were getting too close. They were running out of time.
* * *
Rain spotted Col approaching the group. They still had hours to go before the noon break and judging from the look on his face he had bad news. She patted Colt on the shoulder and went to see what had the squire so worked up.
“We need to move faster.”
She kept her distance and listened as he spoke with Ged. The scowl on Col’s face said his news was worse than she’d thought.
“We’re going as fast as we can,” Ged said. “The wounded and the kids can’t go any faster. It’s only four, perhaps five more days to the keep. Our luck’s held this long, we can make it a few more days. We’ll be quiet and no more fires.”
“I killed two wolfmen not more than a mile from our last camp. It won’t take them long to stumble on our trail and when they do they’ll catch us. If we leave the wounded we can move twice as fast. The adults can take turns carrying the kids if need be.”
Rain’s eyes widened when she heard Col suggest leaving some of them behind. How could he even think such a thing? She stepped closer. “We can’t do that. It wouldn’t be right.”
Col looked at her and though he didn’t say it she knew what he was thinking. When did she start caring about a bunch of commoners? The truth was she didn’t exactly remember when it happened. A week ago she wouldn’t have given these people a second thought, but after spending time with them, eating with them, holding Colt’s hand and watching him wince with each step the litter bearers took, struggling to live another day. They were her people in a way no one ever had been.
“Your sister’s right.” Ged sounded more disappointed than angry. “I won’t leave any of my people behind for the beastmen to kill.”
Col sighed and for the first time since that moment when he watched his mentor die Rain thought he looked bereft. “I wasn’t suggesting we leave them for the beastmen to kill.”
He walked away. Rain watched him until the full meaning of his last words reached her. She ran after him, reaching him a short way from the slowly trudging refugees.
Rain grabbed his arm and spun him around. “You meant to kill the wounded ourselves, didn’t you?”
Col looked into her eyes and seemed much older than his seventeen years. The pain she saw knocked all the anger out of her. “Yes, Princess, that’s what I meant. Ged can’t face it. I understand that. These are his people and the idea of failing any of them pains him beyond his ability to cope. But I promise you if any of them are taken alive by the beastmen they’ll beg for a knife across the throat. I’ve seen what they do with survivors.”
Rain chewed her lip, on the verge of tears. “Isn’t there something else we can do?”
“There’s something we can do. Tonight, after everyone’s asleep, we can slip out past the sentries. Put as much distance between us and them as we can. We can move faster on our own.”
“We can’t leave them. Ged’s a good man, but he has no idea how to deal with beastmen. You’re the only one that has any experience in war. If you leave they’re as good as dead.”
Col’s expression softened. “If we stay we’ll die with them. My mission is to keep you safe.”
“Do you remember what you asked me, back in the forest?”
He cocked his head. “I said a lot of things.”
“You asked me what it meant to be noble. I think I understand now. These are my people, and I won’t leave them to die. If you want to protect me then you must protect them too.”
* * *
Col scrubbed his hand over his face. Now she gets a sense of duty? Now, when all it’d do is get them killed. He felt for the refugees, he did, but he couldn’t turn a dozen farmers into men-at-arms in a couple of days. “I’m not sure what to tell you, Rain. I can only see two options: run or fight. We can’t run fast enough with the injured and we can’t outfight a dozen b
eastmen, much less however many might come against us when they cut our trail.”
Rain smiled and patted his cheek. “You need to look for a third option.”
So saying she walked back to rejoin the line of refugees. He watched her go and shook his head. A third option? What the hell third option could he find?
Col spent the next two days scouting and racking his brain for a way to save everyone. Beastman signs were getting more and more numerous; that none of the miserable creatures had stumbled across the refugee’s trail was a minor miracle. It wouldn’t last.
This morning found him two miles ahead of the refugees on a ridge above the dirt road they’d been following. He hoped the high ground would allow him to see any problems before they saw him. He crept along; senses straining for any sign of the beastmen he knew had to be nearby. The ridge opened into a small clearing.
Col dropped to his stomach. In the clearing, milling around as though waiting for orders, were a dozen massive boarmen. Their scouts must have found the refugees trail and instead of a direct assault they planned an ambush. In a couple of hours the refugees would pass right under their noses.
Boarmen tended to be the stupidest of the clans so he assumed a saberfang would arrive soon to give the ugly brutes their orders. Col circled the clearing, never taking his eyes off the monsters in front of him. He needed to get back and warn the refugees, but first he wanted to check out how much opposition awaited them.
Col made a full circle around the clearing, but found no more beastmen, not that a dozen boarmen would need help dealing with the refugees. He expected he’d find another group waiting on the opposite side of the trail, but Col didn’t dare take the time to check. He slipped silently away from the clearing. When he felt he had enough distance between him and the beastmen he ran.
It took Col less than an hour to run back to the refugees. He found Ged in his usual place leading the column. The older man frowned as Col approached. It appeared he’d lost any goodwill he’d enjoyed with the group’s leader. Well, some people didn’t like to hear the truth, nothing to be done about it now.
