by Ben Cassidy
Chapter 13
The icy impact of the water took Jade’s breath away.
She kicked wildly, trying to break back to the surface of the river. After what seemed like an eternity her head burst clear into the open air. She managed to gulp down a quick breath before she went under again, only to surface a second or two later.
She threw her head back, gasping for breath. The air was frigid on her neck and face. Her whole body felt numb from the shock of the cold. Treading water as best she could, Jade tried to look around. Waves splashed into her face at every turn.
The stone bridge was drifting away behind her. She could see men on the top pointing at her and shouting to each other. The current had looked fairly rapid from the bridge, and now that she was experiencing it firsthand Jade realized just how strong it really was. Trees were moving by at an alarming rate on both banks, and when she looked back the bridge itself was already beginning to fade from view.
But where was Kendril?
Struggling to keep her head above water, she tried to look around her, looking for any sign of the Ghostwalker.
There! Over to the left, a brief glimpse of black was visible for just a moment. Then it vanished again.
Jade took a deep breath, then swam towards the spot, her arms plowing relentlessly through the chilly water. As she reached Kendril, she whipped back her wet hair, taking another breath before she managed to get one arm around his shoulders.
“Kendril?” She spat water out of her mouth, trying to turn the Ghostwalker around. “Kendril!?”
He wasn’t moving, and his eyes were closed.
Jade felt a sudden pang of fear. She crossed her arm across his chest to hold him, trying to keep his head above water as best she could. By now the bridge was entirely gone from view. Wild trees and brambles beckoned from either bank.
Jade turned herself over, keeping a tight hold on Kendril. Taking another breath, she began swimming with her one free hand towards the nearest shore.
Montrose stared over the side of the bridge, his face a mask of rage. In the distance he could barely make out a shape bobbing in the river. In seconds it disappeared around a bend. Montrose spun back around.
Derik limped over slowly. He winced with pain each time his leg touched the ground. “I think that blasted horse broke my leg,” he said. “It hurts like blazes.”
“That’s all we need,” Montrose snarled.
Uther was peering over the side of the bridge. “Boss,” he said, “I think I found Calham.”
The bounty hunter followed his gaze over the railing. In the river below was a very bedraggled Calham, desperately trying to keep hold of one of the stone arches under the bridge.
“Calham, you idiot!” Montrose shouted, pointing towards the eastern bank. “Get out of that river right bloody now!”
“I’m trying, sir—” came Calham’s voice, echoing off the stone arches. “The current’s really moving down here….”
Montrose turned from the railing in disgust. Uther and Derik stared at him in stupefied silence.
Morons. His men were all complete and total morons.
He latched his mace back onto his belt, taking a quick glance at the sun setting in the west. Less than an hour of daylight left. He looked back towards the river, his mind working quickly.
“All right. Uther, you’re with me. Derik, you stay here, make sure Calham gets out of the water, and keep a close eye on this bridge. And get that horse of yours back, too.”
“But my leg—” the man began.
“Then get Calham to do it!” Montrose bellowed. “Just make sure no one gets over this bridge. We’ll meet both of you back here, before midnight.” He began to walk down the bridge towards the east. The sun behind him cast his shadow across the stones.
Uther scurried to catch up with him. “What about us?”
“We,” said Montrose without looking back, “are going to collect our horses and find the girl, hopefully before it gets too bloody dark out for us to see.”
The henchman looked out at the river. “But how do we know which side of the river she’ll come out on?”
“We don’t.” The bounty hunter rubbed absently at his scar. “But I’m betting that she’ll make for the east bank. She knows there’s no help to the west.” They moved off the bridge, trudging up the road towards the woods. “She’s still on foot, so she won’t get too far. We’ll ride down the east bank, at least as long as daylight lasts, and if we don’t find her we’ll come back to the bridge, get Calham and Derik, and search the west bank. We’ll use lanterns if we have to. I don’t think we need to worry about subtlety any more. Not with that Ghostwalker out of the way.”
They cut off the trail, into the forest.
There was a loud crack as Uther stepped on an old branch. “You sure he’s dead?”
Montrose snorted. “That or close to it. He’d have to be made of iron to survive a shot like that.”
“What about the other one? The man in the purple cape?”
Their two horses appeared in the woods just ahead, still tied to the trees where they had left them.
“What about him? If he has half a brain he’ll be hightailing it to Llewyllan by now.” Montrose grabbed his horse’s bridle, his voice lowering. “And if he does decide to cause any trouble, we’ll make him regret it.”
Jade’s legs were screaming with pain by the time she came within reach of the river’s edge. Pulling Kendril along with her made the swimming twice as hard, and several times she had thought for sure they were both going to drown. But now, with the grassy bank almost within reach, she doubled her efforts.
Reaching an area where the current wasn’t flowing as hard, Jade managed to swim up to the shore. She dragged herself and Kendril up onto the grass. She rolled over onto her stomach, choking for air. Beside her she heard Kendril give a sputtering cough and spit up water.
Her heart rose slightly. At least he was still alive.
She flipped over and pushed the straggling hair out of her face. Her body felt absolutely chilled by the steady breeze on her soaked clothes.
She leaned over Kendril, resisting the sudden urge to touch his face.
The Ghostwalker gave a racking cough, fighting for breath. He laid his head back against the ground. His eyes were still closed and his face was strangely pale.
“Kendril?” Jade asked anxiously, hovering over him. “Are you alright?”
His eyes fluttered open, then shut again. He gave a soft groan. “No,” he said in a weak voice. “That was a fantastic shot.”
Jade carefully pulled back Kendril’s sopping wet cloak. “What?”
“On the bridge,” he said. He coughed again. His whole body convulsed with the effort. “I thought I was finished.”
“Oh, that.” Jade tried to keep her tone light. “Yeah, I’m an expert marksman. Didn’t I tell you?” Her voice fell slightly as she caught sight of the Ghostwalker’s wound.
Kendril opened his eyes, looking up at her. “How does it look?” he asked quietly.
She leaned back on her knees and cupped her hands over her mouth. “I—” Her voice was quivering slightly. She tried to steady it. “I don’t know. It—” She turned her head away despite herself. “I can see the arrow. It looks like it’s in pretty deep.”
The Ghostwalker shut his eyes again. “As bad as it feels, then.”
Jade tried to say something uplifting, but the words died on her tongue. “I—I’m not sure what to do, Kendril. Should—” she hesitated, feeling suddenly sick at the thought. “Do you want me to…pull it out?”
He shook his head. “It would bleed even worse, and we don’t have anything to stop it right now.” He reached toward his belt with his right hand, grimacing with the effort. He undid a small pouch and put it down next to her. “There’s about ten pistol cartridges in there. I had more in Simon’s pack, but that doesn’t really help us right now.”
Jade looked at it uncertainly. “I’m…I’m not qui
te sure I—”
“Just listen,” Kendril said. He closed his eyes again, wincing against a sudden flare of pain. “You still have the pistol?”
She glanced down, feeling with her hand. Amazingly enough, the weapon was still there, tucked snugly into her belt.
“Yes. But—”
“Good. This pouch is waterproof, and the pistol cartridges are coated with wax, so hopefully some of them are still good.” He looked up at her again. “You have to dry everything out, Jade. The pistol is soaked. It won’t work until you’ve gotten the water out of it. You’ll need to swab the barrel until there’s no moisture left, and make sure the flint and the touchhole are dry as well.”
“That will take hours, Kendril,” said Jade in exasperation. “We have to get moving. That bounty hunter and his men will be here soon.”
“Yes they will,” he agreed. “That’s why you have to get out of here right now.”
“All right,” she said quickly, starting to rise. “Let’s go. I think I—”
“Not me,” said Kendril. “You.”
Jade stared at him. “I can’t leave you here. You’ll die.”
His face flinched with pain. “I’ve got a crossbow bolt in my side, Jade. I’m already dead. It’s just a matter of time. If you stay with me then we’ll both die.”
She shook her head emphatically. “I’m not going to leave you, Kendril. You can’t even—”
Kendril gave another horrible cough. Drops of water slid down his face. His voice grew weaker. “Jade, my left side is completely numb. I can’t feel my leg anymore. If I…try—” His voice tapered off, and his eyes fluttered shut.
“Kendril?” Jade leaned in, putting her hand on his face without even thinking. “Kendril!?”
His head lolled off to the side.
Jade glanced down worriedly at his wound. She needed to do something, and fast.
Tearing off her vest, she wadded it up and pressed it as well as she could against the wound. She began to shiver all the more with just the heavy wool shirt, soaked as it was with cold water. They were both absolutely drenched, and unless they made a fire they wouldn’t be drying off anytime soon.
But a fire would bring the bounty hunter to them like a fly to honey.
She bit her lip, looking out across the river while keeping pressure on the wound.
The sky was emblazoned with a spectacular sunset, the river reflecting the red and purple from the clouds. Jade felt tears come to her eyes, and she tried to wipe them away with the sleeve of her shirt, until she realized that it was too drenched to do any good.
She turned back towards her unconscious friend. She couldn’t leave Kendril behind. He was still alive, and while he was alive, there was still hope, however slim.
Right now, hope was all she had.
Montrose’s horse splashed through a deep puddle of water, left over from the storm the night before. Uther rode right behind him, his crossbow slung over his back.
To their right the dark form of the Arneth River hurried past, barely visible in the gathering gloom. Indeed, it was starting to get so dark that Montrose had to bend almost to the ground to search for tracks.
So far they had found no signs of the girl at all.
Uther glanced behind him, but the bridge was long out of sight. “It’s getting dark, boss. Maybe we should turn back.”
Montrose straightened in his saddle. “Not yet. We’re close. I can feel it.”
Uther held back his reply. He glanced nervously at the yawning blackness of the forest to their left.
Muttering under his breath, Montrose pulled out his unlit pipe, stuck it in his mouth and chewed it thoughtfully.
They continued for about another minute in silence, the soft roar of the river the only sound.
The bounty hunter suddenly pulled his horse to a stop, peering at the ground intently. He hurriedly dismounted, treading carefully around a patch of grass. For about a minute he stared at the ground, chewing vigorously at his pipe.
“Find something?” Uther asked.
Montrose looked out into the impenetrable darkness of the woods. “It’s her. She came out of the river here. There’s blood, too. Get your lantern.”
The henchman grabbed the lantern hanging from the saddle, and fumbled around with his flint until he had managed to light it. He handed it over to Montrose, who snatched it, slapping down most of the shutters.
“We can’t let off too much light,” he said. “These marks aren’t very old.” He cast a thin ray of light onto the ground, focusing his one good eye on the evidence before him. “He’s here too.”
Uther felt his stomach twist. “The Ghostwalker? He’s still alive?”
Montrose snapped the lantern shut. “Not for long. He’s bleeding pretty bad. I’m amazed he’s even still walking.”
“So should we go back and get Calham and Derik?”
The bounty hunter shook his head, taking the pipe out of his mouth and turning it in his fingers. He badly wanted a smoke. “No. If we move fast, we can have them now.” He put his foot in the stirrup and hoisted himself back onto the horse. “Don’t worry. At the rate that man’s bleeding, he won’t be any threat to us. And as for the girl…” he let his voice linger off menacingly. “I don’t expect she’ll be any more of a problem than she was the last time. Now let’s get going. Time’s a wasting.”
Still not entirely convinced, Uther turned his horse towards the woods, and followed Montrose into the darkness.
Jade fell to her knees. The weight of Kendril’s arm across her shoulder pressed her down. Panting for breath, she let his arm drop, then let him slump down with his back against a tree.
She collapsed back against a tree herself. Her legs burned with a dull pain.
They had been blundering through the woods together for the past hour or so. Kendril had been leaning on her the whole way.
He was getting progressively worse. It had taken every bit of strength Jade possessed even to get him this far.
She was freezing. Her whole body shook from the cold. Her wet clothes clung to her skin like heavy weights. Her knee still throbbed from where it had scraped against the stone bridge when she had jumped off Veritas.
Of course, it was nothing compared to what Kendril was experiencing.
Jade crawled over to him. She tried to check the wound in his side, but it was too dark to see. An owl hooted somewhere in the distance.
“Kendril?”
There was no response. She leaned in closer. Her breath wisped out in the cold air. “Kendril?”
He stirred and his eyes opened partly. “What?”
“How are you doing?”
His eyes slipped shut again. He didn’t answer.
“Kendril?” She grabbed him by his right shoulder and tried to shake him as gently as she could. “How are you doing?”
After what seemed a long while, Kendril gave a feeble cough. “Never…better,” he chattered. His whole body trembled uncontrollably.
Jade turned her head away. She looked behind them the way they had come, but she could see nothing but a gloomy blackness.
They had to keep going. She shivered, then looked back at the wounded man beside her.
“Kendril,” she said, trying to keep her voice from wavering, “we need to get going again. All right?”
He didn’t answer.
She reached over, grabbed his right arm and slung it over her shoulder. Taking a deep breath, she rose to her feet, pulling a groaning Kendril up with her.
He was getting harder and harder to support. And he was barely walking anymore.
Jade took a step forward and almost collapsed with the effort.
This was crazy. She couldn’t keep it up. It would be better just to stop trying, and let the bounty hunter find them. Maybe, if she pleaded with him, he could even get Kendril to a nearby town, to a healer or apothecary. Otherwise—
She stopped short, her gaze riveted on something between the trees. At first she
thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, but she soon realized they weren’t.
There, not far away, was the flickering glow of a campfire.
A real, genuine campfire.
With a renewed purpose, Jade staggered on, supporting Kendril as best she could. They were both still dripping wet and shaking with cold, and the thought of a blazing fire was more appealing right now than all the gold coins in the world. But no, she wasn’t crazy and she wasn’t hallucinating. The fire was very real.
They broke through the thin screen of bushes into a small clearing.
The fire was crackling away cheerfully. A pot of something or other simmered on top. A brown horse was tethered to a nearby tree, and a greatcoat was laid out on a nearby log to dry. The place looked like it was a regular campsite that had been used many times before by different people.
Whoever was using it right now, however, was nowhere in sight.
It was highly dangerous, of course. Jade had no idea whose fire this was, or for that matter where they were. For all she knew, it might be the bounty hunter himself, or one of his men. But by this point she was past caring. If they stayed out in the woods, they would die. Kendril was trembling so violently he could barely stand, even with Jade supporting him. He couldn’t go much farther, and neither could she.
She had to take the chance.
Kendril collapsed by the fire and lay in an unmoving heap.
Jade fell down beside him, feeling the sudden wave of golden warmth from the flames flow over her. She had no words to describe how good it felt.
In the light of the fire she could see how bad the unconscious Ghostwalker beside her really was. Most of his trousers and shirt were soaked a dark crimson from his wound. She could see the bloody stump of the crossbow bolt still protruding from his side. His face was deathly white. The only sign that he was even still alive was his continual shuddering from the cold.
Taking a deep breath, Jade grabbed him gently and pulled him with protesting muscles as close to the fire as she could get him.
He moaned slightly, but nothing else.
She leaned back against the log, trying to absorb as much warmth into her quaking body as she could.
What could she do now? There was a horse here, at least. She could take it, if she moved quickly, before the owner came back. Perhaps she could get Kendril to a town, or even back to the Outpost. Someone might be able to help him there. But she needed to move fast.
But somehow, she couldn’t get her body to move. She was completely exhausted, and the fire felt too good. Somehow getting Kendril up on the horse at all seemed like an insurmountable task. She could try to go alone, and bring help. But Kendril would doubtless be dead by then.
Jade closed her eyes, feeling the heat of the fire against her drenched clothes. Just a few seconds. She just needed a few seconds more to rest…
A sudden crunch from behind her brought her back to her senses. She sprang to her feet, and whirled around.
Her breath caught in her throat.
There, not more than ten paces away, was the one-eyed bounty hunter, his mace in his hands.
Jade turned, but stopped short as she caught sight of another man emerging from the opposite side of the campsite, a loaded crossbow in his hands.
“Hello, sweetmeat,” said Montrose. His one good eye twinkled sinisterly. “Remember me?”
****
