The second night they stayed at the Westland outpost just inside the Gaen Woods and started out early the next morning. As they rode between the ancient trees, Coran continued at his place behind the coach. He was still somewhat unsure about his relationship with Katelyn. After the other night he feared it might become awkward between them, again, but it was exactly the opposite. He could not explain the way all his worries disappeared when she was around. He even started hoping that they might have an opportunity to finish their private discussion that had been interrupted by Alys, but being on the road gave them little in the way of opportunities.
That afternoon the clouds thickened, which made the gloominess of the woods more pronounced. They were about a league from the outpost maintained by the forces of the Plain when Coran felt a sudden chill. It was not the chill one feels from cold, but rather from the sense of being watched. He scanned the deep woods along both sides of the road. There was no sign of any watchers, but he noticed the lack of birds chirping or taking wing at their passage. He could not hear or see any signs of wildlife at all. Quickly, he increased the pace of his mount and rode to the front of the party, where Loras was staring straight ahead, oblivious to anything around him.
Coran silently cursed the man’s inattentive behavior. “Captain,” he called to the leader of the escort.
Loras glanced at him casually. “What is it?”
“Have you put any scouts out?”
“Why should I?” the man snorted. “This is Westland, not Karand. No one is going to attack us here.”
“Then why don’t you tell me what you hear. Listen.”
Loras turned his head first one way and then the other. Finally he shook it. “I don’t hear anything. What is your point?”
“Exactly that. There are no noises. No birds, nothing moving through the underbrush. Someone is out there.”
“Next you will be jumping at shadows,” Loras snorted again.
Coran could feel his temper rising. Loras had always seemed the capable sort before. He never would have made captain otherwise so his indifference was surprising and more than a little annoying. “Send out scouts at once, and have the men ready.”
The Captain was not happy at being given orders from someone half his age. “I am in charge here. You can’t order me about.”
“You may be in charge of the escort, but I am responsible for the safety of the Princess.” He did not raise his voice, but his resolve on the matter was clear. Loras appeared a little less sure, but he was not yet ready to back down. “Would you care to question the Princess as to what you should do?”
That finally decided the man. He had to know what her decision would be. Loras reluctantly turned his mount and rode back along the column issuing orders. Coran slowed his horse and waited to fall back in line next to Devon, and behind the coach.
“Loras doesn’t look very happy,” his blonde friend commented.
“I had to override his authority,” Coran replied. “Keep an eye out.” He explained his suspicions and Devon instantly went on the alert. Coran urged his mount up next to the open carriage window. “Katelyn?”
“What is it? Miss me already?” she teased him.
“Always, but right now I wanted to tell you to be careful. I think there are men in the trees.”
She looked past him into the woods beyond. “Will there be an attack?”
“An attack?” The startled question came from Alys sitting by the opposite window.
“I am not sure, but if anyone tries we will be ready.”
Loras rode up and pushed his mount between Coran and the white gilded coach. “Your orders have been carried out, my Lord,” he said full of sarcasm.
“Captain!” Katelyn’s voice held an authority that seemed instinctive to those born to lead. “Is there a problem? Are you having difficulty fulfilling your duties?”
“No, your Highness,” Loras answered with difficulty. The words sounded dragged out of him.
“When it comes to making decisions on my safety,” she continued, “Lord Coran speaks for me. Is that clear enough or should I speak to my father on our return and find you a less arduous duty.”
“I understand your Highness.” He heeled his horse forward.
“Captain,” Coran called to him before he was out of earshot. “If we are attacked, how will your men respond?” He hoped the ‘your men’ might give the man back a little dignity.
If it did he didn’t sound like it. “The front column will rush the trees. The rear will form up around the coach and escort it clear of the area.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
Katelyn waited until Loras had ridden away. “I do not understand it. He has not been the same since we arrived in Westhaven. He never needed to be reminded of his duty before.”
“We can ask him later. I am going to the front. Maybe I will be able to see something.”
“Be careful,” she called to him as he followed after Loras.
Naras pulled the strung bow from where it had been tied to his saddle bag by a piece of leather. He looked down the low hill trying to see the road through the trees. He listened carefully and the sound of hooves clopping on dirt could be heard. They were almost here.
“This won’t work,” Urik stated from behind him. The big man held the reins to their horses. “You told them the gold was guarded by a dozen at most. When they see how many there really are they won’t attack.”
“They don’t have a choice,” Naras told him as he watched. “A couple of arrows in their direction and those guards will be the ones attacking.”
Urik scratched his thick beard as he struggled with the thought. “Then why did you bring them at all?”
Naras laughed. “They are going to keep the guards busy while we get away.” The clip-clopping was getting closer. He took an arrow from the quiver that hung from his saddlebow and knocked it.
“I thought we had to mark the Coran guy. You won’t be able to hit him from here.”
“I’m not the one who is going to mark him. I’m just here to provide the distraction.” Horses appeared on the road at last. “Get ready,” he whispered. “And keep quiet.” He waited for the coach at the middle of the column to be perpendicular with him and the road. He drew back the string as far as it would go, and raised the tip as high as he dared. If the arrow stayed straight he thought there was enough of an opening for it to clear the branches of the trees. He released and the arrow flew from sight. He knocked a second and released. Then a third. Shouts could be heard and the sound of men and horses crashing through trees. “Time to go,” he said, and fitted action to words. He mounted quickly, not bothering to replace the bow, and the two of them rode away as fast as they dared in the thickness of the forest.
The silence seemed to stretch out time. Coran could hear every step of the horses on the dirt packed road, the jingle of many harnesses and the occasional snort. One of the men coughed and it sounded unnatural in the eerie silence of the surrounding woods. A movement caught his eye, but when he looked there was nothing. Maybe he was being paranoid. He hoped that he was.
A light thump sounded from somewhere and someone called out. “Archers!” Another man cried out in pain. “Aeeeiiiiiii!”
Loras drew his sword. “Front forward! Into the trees!”
Coran drew his sword and his mount hurtled them into the concealing foliage. More orders were shouted back on the road. “Second rank form up on the coach! Forward!”
A man appeared in front of him with a dull sword in his hand. Coran struck out and the man fell with a gash across his chest. He heard other cries under the green canopy, coming from the direction to his left and ahead. He went deeper into the forest, and further from the road, until he came across another man. This one heard him pursuing and turned to face him. His face said he was ready to fight rather than be taken down from behind, despite the fear in his eyes. Coran almost regretted killing the man and had to remind himself that it had been the man’s choice to be there.
The coach still ringed with guards, returned to where the attack had occurred after someone came to tell them it was now safe. As it rolled to a stop, Katelyn peered out at the scene on the road. Two of her escort lay dead in the dirt. Nearby, three shabbily dressed men sat back on their heels with hands tied behind their backs and guards standing over them. Loras watched the carriage and waited for her to emerge. The one thing she noticed above all else was the absence of Coran. She remained calm in front of the Captain.
“Your Highness. We killed twenty-eight and took these three prisoner,” Loras reported. “We lost two and only three were injured. If any of the attackers got away we will not be able to catch them in these woods.”
She waited with great patience for him to finish before asking what she really wanted to know. “Where is Coran?”
Loras did not meet her eye for some reason. “I do not know. He headed that way when we charged into the trees.” He pointed to a spot along the roadside.
“Devon,” she called, but he had already turned his mount and was plunging into the trees. The sound of crashing leaves marked his passage.
“The prisoners?” Loras cautiously asked her, wary of her present mood. “The penalty for attacking a member of the royal family is well stated.”
Katelyn was not ready to think about anything else until Devon returned. Loras was right in that they had to be dealt with. She looked more closely at the three prisoners kneeling in the road. Two were dressed commonly, but not as shabbily as she first thought. Their grimy faces were set grimly. The third man was dressed in a torn shirt and patched pants, he looked near tears.
“We didn’t know,” the third one cried. “There was supposed to be gold. That was all, only gold.”
“For this crime that is irrelevant,” Loras informed the man who started to cry even harder.
“Wait a moment,” she told the Captain, then stood in front of the third captive. “What are you talking about? What gold?”
The sniveling man looked up at her face. “The man who brought us here, he said that there was some gold being taken to Summerhall. He said it was being carried in a coach as a disguise. We just came for the gold. He didn’t say nothing about any royalty.”
“The man. What was his name?”
“Naras.”
The answer did not surprise her. Coran suspected as much. “We will take them back with us,” she decided. If they were to be sentenced to death it should be done properly, in Summerhall. “And have your men bury the dead.”
Loras saluted before issuing her orders. Katelyn no longer heard him, as she bit her lip in worry. Every second was agony. After an eternity a sound was heard in the underbrush. Devon emerged first. He was leading the reins of Coran’s black. She gasped at what she saw. He was slumped over in the saddle, his head touching the horses’ mane. Even worse was the foot and a half of arrow shaft sticking out of the back of his shoulder.
Two of the guardsmen came and helped him from the saddle. They laid him down on his side in the middle of the road, and kept him from falling over and hitting the arrow against the ground.
“Is he...?” she couldn’t say it. Devon shook his head and she could see that Coran was still breathing. “We have to get the arrow out.”
Devon moved quickly and efficiently. He ordered water and bandages brought, then leaned over his best friend, and as carefully as he could broke off the tip of the arrow. He took hold of the wounded shoulder with one hand, the arrow with the other. Taking a deep breath he held it, and in one smooth motion pulled the broken arrow out and discarded it on the road.
Katelyn wet a rag with water from a canteen and began to wipe as carefully as she could at the wounds on both sides. She needed to make sure that no dirt was in them to cause an infection. When she finished, she wrapped the shoulder to cover both sides while Devon held his arm out of the way. They then laid him gently on his back.
“We need a litter,” she ordered, not seeing who jumped to obey. “Should he be unconscious?”
“I don’t know,” Devon frowned. “His horse was heading this way when I found him. It doesn’t look like he lost too much blood.” The two of them exchanged concerned glances. They were both thinking the same thing. Poison.
Devon picked up the arrow’s tip and studied it closely. “There is something on it, but I do not think it was poison. It looks more like dried blood. Not his though. It has been there a while.”
“Could that cause an infection?” she asked with a chill. Infections from wounds killed more than wounds themselves did.
“I cannot say for sure. If I had to guess, I would say most likely not. If it is infected it is from something else, but he does not show any other symptoms yet.”
She nodded. “Then we have to move.” She stood, but still looked down at his body. “Captain!” She waited for him to come near. “Get the men ready to ride. As soon as the litter is built we are leaving.” She did not wait for his salute before turning to Devon. “Ride ahead. If you can find a healer send him back. I want you to go straight to Summerhall and bring back Gelarus.” Devon left immediately. She hoped the Wizard was there. Katelyn watched the preparations around her, then turned her attention back to the man who lay at her feet. She had never felt so helpless in her life.
Chapter 12
A Meeting of Minds
Katelyn climbed back into the coach. The gray light announced the coming of dawn. She could make out the still form of Coran, lying on his litter that had been placed above the forward bench. It was too long to fit on the bench itself so it was suspended between the two windows. The handles used to carry it stuck out on either side. Another form moved in the dark interior of the coach and resolved into a sleepy Alys.
“Did you eat anything?” the girl who had become as close to her as her sister asked. “You need to eat. You will not do anyone any good if you pass out from hunger.”
“I ate a little,” Katelyn lied. She did not want Alys to worry, but she could not eat. Not yet. “Anything?” she asked hopefully.
“No.” The sadness in her answer was clearly apparent. “His fever is no less and he still calls for you at times.”
“Go and eat something yourself. We will be leaving soon.” They had traveled all day and through the night with only short stops to water and rest the horses. If they could keep up the same pace they might reach Summerhall by midnight. Devon might reach them sooner, but it would be hard for him to be traveling much faster than they were.
When Alys left her, she sat down and took Coran’s unmoving hand in hers. Without anyone to see she allowed the tears to come. Within a couple of hours of the attack, his fever had started. It grew worse, until the last few hours when it seemed to be holding steady. That was still not a good thing. His forehead felt like fire to the touch and they kept freshly soaked towels on it to try and keep it cool. His breathing became ragged and his pulse beat weakly. He had remained silent until after the fever took hold. That was when she could no longer hold back the tears. Alys had to hold her until she could regain control of herself. Over and over again he called her name. He never spoke another. He mumbled once and a while, but nothing they could make out. The only word they could understand was ‘Katelyn’. It tore at her heart every time she heard it. If she had another chance she would make sure he knew how she felt about him.
/> “Katelyn,” the whisper came from his dry lips. His head moved slightly from side to side as he spoke. “Katelyn.”
She prayed that Devon hurried, and hoped that Gelarus was in Summerhall. No one would have a better chance of healing Coran than the most powerful wizard in Midia. If she only knew what was wrong, she might be able to do something herself.
“Katelyn,” he was calling her and she did not know how to answer.
She wept.
He had to find her. He did not know why, but he had to. She was here somewhere, and finding her was important. He had been wandering the hallways of rough cut stone for hours. He called her name hoping each time for a response, and each time there was none. Torches were spaced along the walls too far apart to illuminate the entire hall, which left areas of shadow between the pools of light. He went up narrow stairways and turned down twisted corridors without seeing or hearing another soul.
He wondered at where he was. It was no place he recognized from experience or from descriptions by others that he could remember. He thought he might be dreaming, yet no dream of his had ever felt so real. To experiment, he touched the stones of one wall and found them cold. He stretched a hand towards a flaming torch and he could feel the heat against his skin. Everything seemed so real. The air felt heavy and after a while he had trouble breathing. His head felt warmer every time he checked with the back of his hand. He had to find her soon. He called to her again, but there was no response. For some reason he didn’t really expect any.
He struggled on until he rounded a corner and stopped before an arched doorway. A heavy ironbound door blocked his way. It was the first door he had encountered in his search through the labyrinth. He reached for the iron ring set in the wood and pulled. The door was even heavier than it looked. He had to use both hands as the door screeched open in protest. He stepped into the room beyond.
The chamber was more poorly lit than the halls. Only a fire burning in the round pit at the room’s center gave off any light. The room itself was round. There were no other openings and no furniture of any sort. The only other thing to occupy the circular chamber was a figure, standing at the other side of the room, completely hidden by the dark robe it wore.
Fire And Ice (Book 1) Page 16
