Lara arched one eyebrow and looked at all of them one by one. When no one returned her glance, she shook her head, took a deep breath and let it out, and decided to let the matter go.
Breakfast tasted particularly good that morning. The sun was already above the treetops, and the sounds of forest birds complemented their meal. While the others rolled up their blankets, Mathew looked out across the Roeselar and thought it would turn out to be a fine day.
It was not possible to make good time going crosscountry, but Father Thomas seemed to know his way through the woods well enough. The road they were on couldn't even be called a proper trail. It was hardly wide enough to permit them to ride in anything other than single file. Most of the time they stayed parallel to the Roeselar, but after their midday meal—which consisted mostly of bread, cheese, and, oddly enough, more eggs— they began to move inland. About two hours later the trail ended and they emerged from the heavy forest to find a small road of hard-packed dirt. Apart from being wider than the track they'd just left, Mathew couldn't see much difference.
He did see a difference in Father Thomas, however. The priest was more watchful once they were on the road, frequently scanning both ahead of them and behind. The land they were traveling through began to change over the next two hours. Instead of the low hills and valleys
they had seen during the last week, the terrain flattened out and the trees that lined both sides of the road grew less dense. Many of them were of a type Mathew had never seen before. The trunks were large and twisted, with a grayish-green moss hanging from gnarled branches. A few had thick, oddly shaped oblong leaves that measured more than a hand's span in length. Unlike most trees at that time of year, which were either still bare or just beginning to bud, these had apparently remained perfectly green throughout the winter.
Later in the afternoon they finally emerged from the trees and found themselves looking across a broad open field. What they saw there stopped everyone short. At the far right end of the field were the remains of an ancient, elevated roadway stretching off into the distance. Parts were broken, with gaping holes between the sections, but other portions were intact. Mathew had only seen pictures of such things in books before. The road was towering in its majesty and power, yet seemed terribly sad at the same time. They rode by without talking before entering the forest again.
Several times when the road appeared to turn or reached a copse of trees, either Father Thomas or Akin would ride ahead to be sure the way was clear. Mathew thought their behavior overly cautious. If the constable were following them, it seemed reasonable that he would be coming from the opposite direction. From the angle of the sun, he guessed they had turned south again. It was also obvious that the entire party had picked up their pace. But despite this, they encountered no one else on the road.
The day warmed considerably, just as he thought it would, eventually becoming hot enough for him to take off his cloak, which he folded over the front of his saddle. As they rode along, Lara let her horse follow the others' lead and closed her eyes, tilting her face up to the sun. Mathew, riding just behind her, chuckled quietly at the sight of her long hair trailing down behind her.
"Hey," Collin said, falling into place beside him.
"Hey," Mathew answered automatically, shifting his attention to his friend.
"Do you know anything about Elberton?" Collin asked. "Father Thomas told me about it this morning."
"Uh-uh. Never been there. What about you?"
Collin shook his head. "See? That's just what I mean. It's like I told you yesterday. We've never been anywhere, and the first place we get to go is this Elberton."
"What's wrong with Elberton?" Mathew asked.
"Oh, I don't know. But Akin said he was there several years ago and it's a rough sort of town."
"Really? What'd he mean by 'rough.'"
Collin shook his head. "I'm not sure. That's just what he said. I didn't ask him to explain. I didn't want him to think we've never been out of Devondale."
"We haven't. You just said so yourself," Mathew observed. "Did Father Thomas tell you we're going on to Tyraine afterward?"
Collin's face lit up at that. "That's a real city, Mat," he said excitedly. "My dad told me about it once. It's supposed to have a harbor, loads of taverns with dancing, squares, parks, and everything. I spoke to Akin about it and he says—"
"Listen," Mathew said interrupting him, "I never did thank you for what you did back in Devondale, or Daniel either, for that matter."
"Forget it." Collin said, brushing away the remark. "You'd have done the same for me."
"I've gotten us all into a pretty big mess. You can't even go back home now. None of us can."
"So?" Collin shrugged. "There are lots of other places in the world. I couldn't very well let them cart you off to a prison, could I?"
"What about your family?" Mathew insisted.
Collin grimaced, and a few seconds passed before he answered. "My dad knows I'll be all right, and I'll get word to my mom and brothers, somehow. I don't know. I don't have the answers to a lot of things, but I know right
from wrong, and what was happening back there was just plain wrong."
"Aren't you going to miss Elona?"
"Sure. She's a fine girl," Collin said. Then lowering his voice, he added, "But there are lots of girls around. You wait and see. Besides, I'm too young to be tied down. Plenty of time for that later. I'd like to see some of the world, wouldn't you?"
Mathew didn't reply right away. They rode along for a while before he spoke.
"Collin, I've been giving this a lot of thought. When we get to Tyraine, I'm going back and give myself up and take my chances in a trial. Constable Quinn said he'll see that things would be fair. I think he was telling the truth. If we keep on like this, it'll just drag the rest of you down."
"I'm not worried about facing charges. Listen, Mat, if you go back, you're certain to go to prison, and for who knows how long. You know what the law says as well as I do. I say we stick with Father Thomas. He'll figure something out."
"But—"
"There are no buts about it. If anyone deserved killing, it was that son of a lizard, Berke Ramsey. I promise you, the world won't miss him for one second." Collin spat on the ground to emphasize his point.
Mathew wasn't so sure about that. The world didn't have to miss Berke Ramsey, only the king's constable, Jeram Quinn. He didn't even know if Berke had any family, though the thought had crossed his mind a number of times in the last few days.
The debate with Collin was abruptly cut short by Akin's return. He threw them a friendly wave and rode over to speak with Father Thomas. As soon as their discussion was concluded, Father Thomas called them together and they formed a semicircle on horseback, facing him. The priest told them he thought it best to continue on for a while longer and then set up camp for the night. If they got an early start in the morning, they could reach Elberton by midday. Akin also said he had located a good campsite only a short distance down the road.
While Father Thomas was talking, Mathew could see that he was not looking directly at them, but over Collin's shoulder at the road behind him. Collin noticed it as well and started to turn around, but Father Thomas spoke sharply, stopping him.
"Collin, my son, would you oblige me by looking at me for a moment longer, and not looking behind you? Uh . . . uh ... uh, the same for the rest of you," he admonished, forestalling backward glances by Daniel and Lara.
"What is it, Father?" Lara asked.
"We are being followed."
He said this so matter-of-factly—as if he were discussing the weather—that Collin blinked to make sure he'd heard correctly.
"Are you sure?" Collin asked, letting his hand come to rest causally on the hilt of his sword. "I don't see how the constable could possibly—"
"It isn't Jeram Quinn. We are being followed by Or-locks. Not many, possibly just a raiding party, but where there are few, more will follow."
<
br /> Mathew heard Lara take a sharp breath.
"Please continue to smile and nod at me, my child." Father Thomas said. "Only two are close, the rest are still a distance from here as of yet."
It was to Lara's credit that she did as he requested. The only hint that anything might be amiss was her sudden pallor.
"Well, then perhaps we had better move on, don't you think, Father?" she said in the most pleasant of voices.
There was genuine affection in Father Thomas's brown eyes when he smiled back at her. He nodded before turning his horse around.
Mathew waited about two minutes, then picked up his pace to bring his horse next to Father Thomas's. Collin followed suit a moment later. The shadows were already beginning to deepen, as the light from the late afternoon sun took on a warm, reddish hue.
Although his pulse had quickened considerably, Mathew deliberately kept his tone neutral. "Father. . . you don't really think the Orlocks are a raiding party, do you?" he asked.
"Why do you ask?" Father Thomas replied, his eyes continuing to scan both sides of the road.
"Because we've been traveling through the backwoods, away from any towns, for over a week now, and it seems to me that there's very little in these woods to raid."
"You're quite correct, my son. I believe they are following us, although for what reason, I cannot say. It is very strange."
"Well, what are we going to do?" Collin asked. "Couldn't we just make a run for it? We'd surely lose them quickly."
Father Thomas stretched in his saddle and put a hand over his mouth as he yawned. "I think the first thing we will do is to make camp," he replied casually.
"Camp?" Collin said. "That's crazy. Just make camp and wait for them to come down on us? Father, I—"
"I said, make camp, boy," the priest hissed under his breath. "I didn't say anything about staying in it. We have an hour of daylight at best, and they'll come at night. Akin told me he only saw one scout. Earlier this morning there were two. So I must assume one of them went back-to bring their companions. We've been on horseback for several days now, and even though the creatures are on foot, they have been doing a good job keeping up with us. During the war, we found that the Orlocks have considerable endurance. They can stay with a man on horseback for days at a time, and I have no desire to bring them down on Elberton."
Collin grimaced. "I see ... I think. What are we going to do, Father?"
"When we reach the campsite, Akin will take the horses and tether them a short distance away. There will be a thicket there and a small stream that feeds into the Roeselar, so it will look like they were posted there for the water. Mathew, I would like you and Collin to gather as much brush and kindling as you can. We'll also need some green wood for the fire."
"Green wood? But that will smoke . .. Oh, I see," Mathew said as the reason dawned on him.
"Excellent." Father Thomas smiled. "I'll explain the rest to you when we reach the camp."
They didn't have long to wait. Twenty minutes later Akin pointed out the campsite to them.
A small log home, built on a stone foundation, stood alone about two hundred yards from the road, at the end of a path in a small clearing. It was strange to suddenly come upon a house after seeing only forest for days. The house contained a prominent stone chimney. A wall about three feet high with a wooden gate in the center ran from one end of what must have once been the front yard to the opposite side. It looked like it was constructed of the same material as the foundation. The gate was badly in a state of disrepair, having fallen off one of its hinges and hanging tenuously from the other.
When they walked their horses in, they could see that only part of the roof still remained. Most of the windows were either broken or long since gone. Mathew noticed that the chimney had an elaborate design of smaller rocks halfway up, which it seemed must have taken someone a long time to do. Off to the right of the house there was a well, fashioned of brick and partially covered with faded yellow mortar. A bucket lay on the ground next to it, the rope nowhere to be seen.
Daniel walked over to the well and peered down into it, then picked up a few pebbles, tossing them in. No sound of a splash came back, only a clatter against other rocks near the bottom.
"Dry," he said.
"I wonder who lived here?" Lara said. "It's such an odd place to make a home—so far away from everything."
"Maybe that's why they left. It looks lonely," Akin said over his shoulder, leading the horses around to the thicket.
Lara surveyed the area around the house and let out a long sigh, then tentatively poked her head into the front doorway. "They didn't even take their stove with them. It's still here. Isn't that strange?"
"What is?" Collin asked, stepping inside the house.
"It doesn't make sense to leave a perfectly good stove behind. You'd think somebody would have come along and put it to use by now." If nothing else, the practical side of Lara's mind strongly disapproved of wastefulness.
Daniel and Mathew joined them a moment later.
"Strange is right," Daniel said.
A large black kettle, covered with dust, still sat on the stove, and a wooden spoon hung from a hook by the fireplace. In the corner of the room were a table and four chairs. One of them lay on its side. They moved quietly through the rooms together, exploring. In one room they found two beds and a small chest of drawers, and in another, an old spinning wheel.
"It almost looks as if the owners just went for a walk," Lara said quietly.
Daniel shook his head. "I don't think anyone's been in here for years. You can see our footprints on the floor."
The floor was indeed covered with dust and leaves that had blown in through the open windows. No one had lived in the house for a very long time.
Everyone suddenly realized they were speaking in hushed tones, when Collin asked, "How come we're all talking so quietly?"
"I don't know," Lara said. "There's something sad about an abandoned home. Don't you think?"
Collin frowned and looked around the room with a puzzled expression. "I guess." He shrugged and headed for the front door. The others followed him.
Once they were outside, Father Thomas called them over and explained the rest of his plan. While he did, he knelt down and finished placing the last of several stones he had gathered for a fire ring, about three feet in diameter. On the other side of the thicket, Mathew could see where Akin had tethered the horses. He also felt a twinge of guilt when he saw that Akin had also unpacked their blanket rolls and set them out while they were in the house.
"Mathew, you and Collin hurry and get the brush and wood we talked about. The rest of you will need to arrange your sleeping rolls on the other side of where the fire will be. As soon as it gets a little darker, I want you to pack the blankets with leaves, branches—anything you can find—so it appears that you're still inside. Do you understand me?"
Everyone nodded, watching the priest closely.
"Because the road bends where it does, the Orlocks will not be able to see us until they are almost on top of the camp. When your blankets are prepared, we will light the fire. Akin, as soon as it is dark, you and Lara will head for Elberton as fast as you both can go."
Lara opened her mouth to protest, but Father Thomas held up a hand, stopping her.
"I know what you are about to say, my child, but please believe me, this is for the best. We do not have much time now, so I ask that you listen carefully and donlt speak. I cannot allow you to stay and face these creatures. You must trust me in this."
Lara held his gaze for a moment, then sniffed and nodded.
"If I am correct, there will be perhaps five or six of them," Father Thomas said. "They will expect us to be asleep, not hiding in the woods, when they come."
"And what if you're not correct?" Akin asked softly.
Father Thomas shrugged. "They have proven to be creatures of habit," he replied, not answering his question, "I would be surprised if they have changed their pat
terns very much."
"Father," Akin said levelly, "I will do as you ask, because you tricked me into giving my promise before I knew what you intended, but I do not like this plan, or leaving you to fight them while we run away."
"I know that, my son," Father Thomas replied gently.
"There's something I don't understand, Father," Daniel said. "What are the Orlocks doing here in the middle of nothing? And why are they following us?"
"The answer is that I don't know, Daniel. Now off with you. The time grows short and we must be ready. Make sure you take your bows with you."
Then, turning back to Lara, he said, "Walk with me, if you will."
It took Lara a few strides to catch up with Father Thomas, who had clasped his hands behind his back and was walking in the direction of the house. But instead of going in as she thought he would, he continued around, going behind it. She followed, and saw a small path that seemed to lead down in the direction of the river. Neither spoke. The trees on either side had grown together over time, forming a kind of archway with their branches. It was a quiet and serene place, and it appealed to Lara. She thought it would look even nicer once all of the leaves returned.
Father Thomas stopped beside an ancient tree whose trunk had gone gray over time. His eyes roamed over the gnarled surface for a few seconds before coming to rest on a particular spot. Reaching out, he brushed away some of the moss and lichen with his fingers, revealing a set of initials carved into the wood.
"I did this on my twelfth birthday," he said absently.
"You did this?" Lara exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise.
Father Thomas smiled. "You were wondering about the house before, weren't you?"
"Yes.. . well.. . but I don't understand, Father. This was your house?"
"It was," Father Thomas said kindly, looking directly at her. "Do not be so surprised, my child, even priests have to live somewhere before they become priests."
"But I always thought you came from Anderon. I remember old Father Haloran saying so."
"I did, but in a somewhat roundabout way. This is where I grew up. My father built this home," he said, tracing the outline of the initials carved there with his finger.
Mitchell Graham - [Fifth Ring 01] - The Fifth Ring (v1.0) Page 17
