concern went to how long it would be before the relief found the guard. The man himself seemed unlikely to arise and give the alarm. He didn't really want to think about it, but the crack he had heard from the man’s neck had sounded a little too final.
Nicholas remembered a time when the innkeeper had grumbled at how he was insufficiently paid when required to house and feed soldiers. Remembering that it was probable any relief for the man would be lodged at the tavern. To be safe he gave the building a wide pass and rode off at a trot.
The horse responded well once it was given rein to move as it wanted, so it was only a short time later that he passed through the next village, a place called Manubra Rise; due to the great house on the hill above that village. It was some nineteen marks from Boramulla.
The next place he passed through was Pillbugh at a distance of thirty-five marks. He had seen no one, and estimated that he had been riding some three and a half hours. Allow fifteen minutes in the house, it was probably less but seemed twice that time; that was a total around four hours. It was almost certain that by now the relief would have found his companion. The alarm would be out.
He still knew this road; not well, especially in the dark, but well enough to continue for a good while without losing his way. Though in reality he had no real idea where he was going, other than if he kept on, come the daylight he would see the mountains and could correct any misdirection. He pushed the thoughts from his mind; now was not the time to have doubts or misgivings.
As the first signs of daybreak began he found a copse, set back off the road. It was quite dense and was away from any tendered land; though there were several wild mango trees. In season there would be much fruit to be taken.
There was a small dam on the other side, formed where some farmer had blocked the natural course of a spring between two small hillocks. The horse walked slowly over towards the water, cracked the thin layer of ice with a hoof and had begun to drink before Nicholas had dismounted. It seemed happy here, so he took the hobble from the saddlebag, and tapped the horse’s shanks with it. It snorted its disapproval, but let him lift each leg.
He looked at the saddle. He didn’t want to remove it in case he had to leave quickly, but he could see there was a thick layer of sweat between it and the animal’s hide. He needed the animal well, so reluctantly he unbuckled the saddle and hid it in amongst the thickest of the trees. The horse seemed happier and began to graze.
Nicholas stepped up to the waters edge to fill his containers; the surface was half-covered in waterlillies. He looked at their massive green leaves shading the shallow bed as the perfume from the bright night flowering red flowers, wafted past his nose. Carefully he placed the knife where it would be bathed in light once the orb rose.
He was feeling better than he had for some time as he leaned back against the saddle, and took a piece of salted meat from the pack. The mood was brief, as it seemed only minutes later that a coach bearing the livery of the Alderman, raced by in the same direction he would be traveling. Behind was a rider-less black horse. He had an uneasy feeling for some time after that.
Some hours later a troop of six guards raced towards the direction of Boramulla; and later still, back again. He also saw one of the great silver birds that often hovered above, but it was very high in the sky and moving fast.
If not for the events of the previous night on his mind, the day would have passed peacefully, almost blissfully. Lying in the long soft grass listening to the birds and watching the clouds, he slipped off into restless sleep.
He woke feeling chilled, the day was failing, and he pulled on his cloak for warmth. After eating some more dried meat and apples, he was on the road once more.
Nicholas had been traveling for some time, the mist steadily creeping across the road when he became conscious of the trees becoming thicker to his sides. He would be entering woodlands. If he was then he had done well, it could only be the forest at the foothills of the Blood Mountains, but the tales of spirits carrying travelers off deep into the woods at night, subconsciously caused him to quicken his pace.
It was because of the mist, and a little too much haste that Nicholas ran into his next problem. Suddenly in front of him loomed a gate, crossing over and totally blocking the road. It was not unheard of to bar the carriageway; especially at night; and often it was done by the Veldt, as it was this time.
The creatures were a lower class of the guard, and were entrusted with the more distasteful, and menial tasks. They were generally short; usually well under a meter and a half. But what they lacked in height they made up in breadth; emphasized with broad powerful shoulders. Being stockily built, and contained inside a thick leather singlet: one had the impression that they were as wide as they were tall. Fingerless black gloves covered their disproportionately large hands; but nothing could hide the cruel grin that their faces almost always bore. It was said of them that these things were once normal men, but that the soil of their homeland seeped an unseen poison. That nature had played a cruel curse upon them was beyond doubt.
Nicholas had no choice but to brazen out his deception. He pulled open the cloak to show his uniform as he approached the gate.
One stepped forward and spoke. “A good evening it is I wish to you officer. May we be of assistance in your errand?”
“You may let me pass,” Nick replied, trying as hard as he could to mimic the arrogant, guttural voice, common among the mid ranks of the military. “I am on the Marshals work.”
“Of course you are sir,” the Veldt he sneered, “Out late as it is… and as we are too... but have you not a moment to drink ale, smoke baccy and sample our meager hospitality?”
“I said I have work to do, and places to be.”
“Aye and most keen you are to be about it officer: if it not be too forward for me to say,” he grunted, glancing briefly across to at least one other in the shadow of the trees. Nicholas was certain he saw a crossbow. “Tis a wild and dangerous place to be, alone in the forest when the hours of darkness be upon us?”
“I have no fear, and need no company.” which was not entirely true.
“No, no: I’m sure you need none... or… have none.” He sneered again. “But there is good reason to take advice of someone who knows where danger is to be found. I insist as a duty to our Lord Marshal that we share that knowledge with a comrade.”
‘I must take care', thought Nicholas, for here was the greatest danger. Many were the tales of illegal barricades set up at night for the unwary, and of these creatures appetite for thievery, and their taste for village women. But would they risk a guard? “If you have knowledge that can benefit me I will sup but one ale with you,” he said dismounting, and tying the horse to the gate.
“Aye officer: aye, as you please: across here, to the heat of the fire.”
They walked into the shadow of the trees. A fire blazed brightly against a rock face; crystals within the stones throwing the light back in a myriad of colours as if they were sparks themselves. These rocks hid the glow well from travelers passing; it was well sited.
Nicholas made sure that from where he sat he could see his horse, and his packs.
“Now sir you did not speak of your business, and where it takes you?”
Another appeared, making three. They offered a flagon and Nicholas drank straight from it as they did; though he would have much preferred not to have it touch his lips.
“No I did not, and neither do I intend to, for my errand is not for the ears of the likes of you.” Even though it was common knowledge the guard treated the Veldt with contempt he tried not to provoke.
“No of course not officer; just polite conversation.”
There was a curious taunt in the man’s attitude. They suspected something, he was sure of that.
“Take meat from the fire if you will.”
There were enough tales of human flesh being part of their diet for him to have cause to refuse the offer. “I have no need of food at this time.” Which was true enough, but
he did not add ‘or the stomach' to his reply.
“You carry a strange pack officer?”
Of course that was it, Nicholas suddenly realized. Messengers carried a leather pannier on their saddle when acting as couriers; his had none.
“That I claimed when no other would suffice, for time was short and my journey an urgent one.” It was the best he could do.
“We see that your tunic is a little large for you officer.” One of the others said with a laugh.
Ugly they may have been, but stupid they were not, it had taken little time for them to see through his pretence. Two of the Veldt stood; the leader remained seated and spoke on. “After our hospitality, surely a good officer like yourself would not mind showing, or better still, sharing the contents of what you carry with a few poor souls.”
With that the leader stood and they moved about Nick, two to the front, and one to the rear. They slowly drew their short stabbing swords. All were laughing now, showing their broken yellow teeth by the firelight. It was going to be a good game, cutting this charlatan apart and sharing the booty.
Slowly Nicholas came to his feet. He looked towards the rock face needing it at his back; but they knew that too. He could feel the fear make his skin tighten and his heart race. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded though he was sure his voice broke as he spat out the
Road and Forest Page 2
