Harbinger

by Shae Ford

  She rose when he did, blocking him. “Not so fast — there’s no guarantee that you would’ve died, had I left you.”

  “Really?” he stepped to the side, but she moved twice as fast.

  “Really. Think about it: the fires from the village would’ve kept you from freezing to death, and the light would’ve scared off the wolves.”

  “What about the Earl’s men? Wouldn’t they have used me for a pin cushion the first chance they got?”

  “Not likely. They probably would’ve just counted you as a body,” she said with a smirk. “No, I’m not content to have just saved you from almost certain death. When I save you from certain death, then we can consider the debt settled. Until then, you’re stuck with me.”

  He couldn’t get around her, he couldn’t fight her off and even though he very briefly entertained the idea of clubbing her over the head, he couldn’t bring himself to knock out any more of her sense. He supposed he really was stuck with her. “Fine. You can come along, just stay quiet.”

  “Fair enough. Where are we headed?”

  “Where do you think? To get the Earl — or Titus, or whoever.”

  “Earl Titus. I believe he’s been promoted,” she said as she slung the pack over her shoulders.

  “Well whoever he is, he can’t be far ahead of us. I was only out for the day, right? And the two of us can move faster than an army. As soon as we find their trail, I wager it’ll be less than a week before we’ve caught up.”

  She started to reply, but he ignored her. He strode out of the cave and looked around for something to climb — he had to get his bearings. There wasn’t much nearby, but as it happened a large boulder sat on the hill above the cave. He climbed its unfamiliar side and took in the land around him.

  Just a few yards away, the snow ended. It stopped in a perfect line and brown grass extended beyond it — jaunting down the slope and into a thick forest of pines. Beyond that … no, it couldn’t be.

  He scrambled down the side of the boulder and onto the nearest ledge, where he could clearly see what lay beneath him. He didn’t have to open the Atlas to know that what he stared at was the Valley.

  Cradled on a sea of green, little dots of trees and winding streams coursed the length of it. Tall grass flowed in waves, teased by the wind that cascaded down from the mountains surrounding it. Here, quiet houses rested far from their neighbors and sleepy tendrils of smoke rose from their chimneys. Off in the distance, he thought he could make out the gray tops of the western mountains.

  He realized they weren’t anywhere near Tinnark, or Earl Titus. Somehow, they were already at the bottom.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Kyleigh called up to him. She was standing at the cave entrance, watching him. “Nothing at all like those Miserable Mountains of yours.”

  “Unforgivable Mountains,” he said testily. “And why are we at the bottom? How long have I been asleep?”

  “A night and half a day. We’ve made good time.”

  Good time? Good time? No, extraordinary time, impossible time! He gripped a handful of hair and fought the urge to yell at her. “How have we managed to make it all the way down the mountains in a day and a half?”

  “I can’t tell you that. As a former knight, I’ve sworn to protect my secrets.”

  It took him approximately ten seconds to reach her. “Take me back,” he said, as dangerously as he could.

  She looked him hard in the eyes. “No. If I take you back now, you’ll only get yourself killed —”

  “No I won’t, because unlike you I actually know how to survive in the mountains. I’ve never cracked my head on a rock and had to be rescued —”

  “Oh, it was no rock.”

  “What was it, then?”

  She clamped her mouth shut and her face turned slightly pink. “It doesn’t matter what it was. All that matters now is that you stay alive.”

  “Why?” he countered. “Why do you need me alive? And why did Amos seem to think that I had something important to do?”

  “I’ve already told you.”

  He thought back for a moment. “You still think I’m a Wright, don’t you?” he guessed. “Well that’s completely ridiculous. I’ve already told you I’m not —”

  “And I’m not interested in arguing over it,” she said, throwing her hands up. “So tell me what you plan to do, Kael Not-A-Wright. Where are we headed?”

  Behind him, there was nothing but a wall of solid rock — a treacherous climb that pierced the clouds and jutted upwards. It would take weeks to reach Tinnark in fair weather, and the clouds that covered the mountains now were far from fair: they were the color of iron and unmoving. They’d found their perch for the winter and were prepared to squat till the sun came to burn them away.

  Which wouldn’t happen until spring.

  In the meantime, the snow would cover the army’s tracks. Any abandoned camps they found would be months old instead of days. Their trail would be long gone. It was like Roland always said: even the best tracker still needed tracks.

  He felt his heart twinge when he thought of Roland, and he hoped to mercy he was safe. “Was there any food in the pack?”

  Kyleigh shook her head. “Not to speak of. Though I found a pair of ratty old gloves we might be able to chew on, should things get desperate.”

  He frowned at her. “One of the houses at the bottom must have some supplies we can trade for … um, have we got anything to trade?”

  She dug around for a moment and pulled out a tattered purse. A number of copper and silver coins sat in the bottom of it, but he had no idea what they meant.

  “All right, well you can be in charge of that,” he said, thrusting them back at her. “Come on. If we move quickly, we can reach the bottom by nightfall —”

  “And then what?”

  “I just said it — we’ll get supplies.”

  “No, I mean after all that. Where will we go, once our packs are full?”

  “Back up the mountains to find my grandfather.” He had to wonder if she was so dense before she cracked her skull. He’d made it almost to the trees when he realized she wasn’t following. “What?” he snapped.

  “Might I make a suggestion?”

  “No.”

  “Regardless, I can’t help but think that you’ve got us on a doomed quest.”

  “Oh? And how do you figure that?” he said, making no attempt to hide the annoyance in his voice.

  She sidled up to him, hands clamped behind her back. “Well, say we do make it back to Tinnark. Say we avoid freezing, falling and getting eaten long enough to make the climb. And what if, against all foreseeable odds, we manage to find Titus … what then? How do you hope to defeat him?”

  Did she expect him to have some detailed plan stashed in his breeches? “I don’t know. I’ll cross that river when I come to it.”

  She snorted. “You won’t be crossing that river at all, not without some help. Believe me — I’ve seen Titus on the battlefield. There’s a reason Crevan made him warlord. No,” she looked off into the distance, “we’ll need help … friends with fighting skills.”

  “Well, I haven’t got any friends. Much less friends with fighting skills.”

  “You’ve got me,” she reminded him. “And I just happen to know some men who’re mad enough to help us. But it’ll be a hike to reach them.”

  “How far?”

  She took a deep breath. “The High Seas.”

  Now it was his turn to shake his head. The quickest way to the seas was through the Valley, but he knew from the stories in the Atlas that the land was far more dangerous than it looked.

  Bandits thrived in this corner of the Kingdom, where they could attack unsuspecting travelers and escape quickly into the shelter of the mountains. Thieves cut purses freely, slipping a few coins to the town guard here or there to keep from getting pinned. The general lawlessness also attracted patrols from Midlan — which would arrive with every intention of restoring order. But then the soldiers woul
d drink far too much of the heady mountain wine and, in a drunken stupor, end up pillaging everyone in the name of the King.

  And that was before Earl Hubert came into power. Kael imagined things had only gotten worse.

  “It’s not as far as you think,” Kyleigh said when she saw the look on his face. “We’ll travel during the day and at night, we’ll sleep well off the road. We should reach the seas in a fortnight, if we’re careful.”

  He knew he didn’t really have a choice. Kyleigh was right. He would’ve died rather than admit it, but the two of them didn’t stand a chance against Titus’s army. They needed numbers on their side. At times like this was when Amos used to roll his eyes and say: “You can’t leap to the top of a tree, boy. You’ve got to climb it!”

  And what a long climb it would be. “Can’t you just use whatever power brought us down the mountains to take us across the Valley?” he said.

  She pursed her lips. “And risk being spotted by every eye in the Kingdom? I think not. Look — we’ve got a small enough chance of succeeding as it is. Everything depends on how long we can stay unnoticed. And the Valley isn’t as empty as the mountains — the King trusted Hubert least of all. More soldiers roam this land than the towers of Midlan. No, we’ll have to take the long route.”

  “All right,” he said after a moment, finally resigned to his fate. “We’ll do this your way.”

  Which seemed to please her to no end.

  They traveled hard for the rest of the day. Kyleigh skipped over rocks and rotted logs while he followed the safer route at a trot. Occasionally, she’d disappear for several minutes before he’d see her running along a ledge above him, or skirting across a river on the mossy back of a toppled tree.

  Well, it was no wonder she’d nearly lost her head, if she always sprinted through the mountains like she owned them.

  At long last, they broke from the woods. There was only one slope left to climb down — and it was steep enough to be mistaken for a wall. If they lost their footing, they wouldn’t stop until they hit the bottom — or impaled themselves on one of the many jagged rocks that lunged out from the gravel like spears.

  The sun was setting, but he thought if they moved quickly that they might be able to make it down before the light disappeared all together.

  “Ladies first,” he said, waving at it.

  She must not have realized that he was joking. “Here goes,” she said with a grin. And before he could stop her, she leapt off.

  She sprinted down the slope like it was no more trouble than an open field. She slid between rocks in places where the gravel was thickest, kicking her legs up wildly behind her. It took her less than a minute to skate her way to the bottom.

  When she made it to safety, she turned and waved to him. “Don’t just stand there, come on!”

  She was completely mad, no doubt about it. “I’m not going to throw myself off and wind up in a bloody heap,” he shouted back. He began his descent slowly, going only a few feet at a time and stopping to rest between rocks.

  “Sometime this decade, please,” she called.

  “If you’re bored, why don’t you make camp?” he snapped back. Sweat trickled into his eyes, blinding him as he stretched for a foothold that was just barely within his reach.

  “Why don’t I build us a house? I think I’ll have plenty of time.”

  “I don’t care what you do — just don’t distract me.”

  “Fine. Shall I make it one story, or two?”

  He looked up to retort, and promptly lost his footing.

  Chapter 9

  The Jackrabbit

  “Hold still,” Kyleigh said, grabbing him under the chin. He grimaced while she dragged a wet cloth down his cheek. It felt about as pleasant as a bee’s barb, and when she went to dip it back in the bowl, he saw it was covered in a wet mix of dirt and dried blood.

  His climb down the mountain hadn’t gone quite like he planned — and he blamed it entirely on Kyleigh. If she hadn’t been heckling him, he might’ve noticed the rock he stood on was a bit loose. Then he might not have gone tumbling down head over heels, striking every stone and upraised root on his way.

  Fortunately, a large nettle bush saved him from falling to his death. Though when he tried to get up, it clung very stubbornly onto his clothes. He’d been stuck for several minutes before Kyleigh stopped laughing long enough to pull him free. She’d helped him limp down the road for another mile or so before they came to a small inn called The Jackrabbit.

  The innkeeper was a jumpy man. When they knocked on the door, he’d peered out at them through a crack before he swung it open. He had short hair and a wild mess of a beard. In his hand, he’d clutched a woodcutter’s axe.

  “It was one of them monsters again, wasn’t it?” he said, his eyes on Kael’s wounds. “I’ve seen them out in the paddock late at night — horrible wolves the height of men! The goats start bleating and I run out there to try and scare them off, but …” He shook his head. “I haven’t ever been fast enough. Took my Nancy last night, they did.”

  Kael couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw the innkeeper’s eyes well up a bit.

  “No monsters,” Kyleigh assured him. “Just a rather nasty fall. Might we come in?”

  “Of course you can, miss. We don’t call it an inn for nothing,” he said as he let them by. After he found them a table, he’d gotten a fresh bowl of warm water and several rags for them to clean up with.

  Now Kael scrubbed his limbs while Kyleigh worked on his face and neck — and she was being far from gentle. “Would you stop that?” he said, jerking his head out of her reach. “I’d like to keep some of my skin, if you don’t mind.”

  “Oh, don’t be such a fawn about it — I haven’t even got down to the skin.” She twisted the cloth over the bowl and a large amount of murky brown water came out of it. “See?”

  He tugged a thorn from his elbow and pressed a cloth over the dot of fresh blood. “This is just for show, anyhow. I’ll fix it myself later,” he muttered.

  She looked over his shoulder at the kitchen door, where they could hear the innkeeper cursing and clanging pots together. “Just keep it subtle, will you? We don’t want anyone to start asking questions.”

  “I’m not a child. I’ve managed to keep it a secret this far. I know what I’m doing.” He threw his cloth down on the table, where it stuck.

  “Dinner’s served!” The innkeeper pushed through the doors and made his way to their table, balancing a plate in either hand. “We’ve got roasted turkey legs, bread and cheese. And if you don’t mind, I think I’ll sit with you for a bit. Business is a little, ah, slow tonight.”

  It was indeed. Of the dozen or so tables before the hearth, theirs was the only one with anyone in it. They had the whole inn to themselves.

  The innkeeper lit up a pipe and took several quick puffs. “I tell you, I think I’ve got the only grass-eating cat in the whole Kingdom. Those rats will skip right past him, so fat that their little bellies drag on the ground. But he just watches them go by. You ever heard of anything worse?”

  “Worse than a cat? I don’t think so,” Kyleigh said with a grin. “Tell me — do you feed it off the table?”

  “I don’t, but my wife sure might …”

  While they worked to solve the mystery of the cat, Kael dug in. He tore off a huge chunk of the turkey leg and swallowed it without chewing. Then he turned on the bread and cheese.

  He’d never had them before: there were no farms in Tinnark and even if there had been, he suspected the villagers couldn’t have stopped eating their animals long enough to let them make cheese. All he knew was that anytime the heroes in the Atlas sat down for a great feast, there was always bread and cheese.

  He tore off a chunk of the roll, topped it with a pinch of cheese and stuffed the whole thing into his mouth. The bread was thick and rich, like stew broth, and the cheese melted into it. He was sure he’d never tasted anything so delicious.

  His turkey leg was down to th
e bone when a chorus of howls interrupted their dinner. Three scruffy dogs bounded in from outside, cornering them at the table. Their barks pierced the sensitive parts of Kael’s ears, and he thought very seriously about giving the nearest one a sharp kick.

  “Oh hush now, you mutts!” the innkeeper bellowed over their protests. “Can’t you see we’ve got company?”

  An ear-splitting whistle from Kyleigh finally silenced them all. They cocked their furry heads at her and their tails stood straight. “Come here, you lot,” she said, slapping her knees.

  “I’d be careful, miss,” the innkeeper warned, but it was clear by the way the dogs covered her face in wet kisses that they meant her no harm.

  She led them to the hearth and got them to sit quietly while she scratched their ears. She spoke sweetly to them, and their tongues lolled out between their pointed teeth as they hung on her every word.

  “Those mongrels nearly took the hand off of one of my guests last week. Now look at them.” The innkeeper shook his head and chuckled. “Where’d you find that girl, anyhow?”

  Kael realized that he would now have to be the one to answer the innkeeper’s many nosy questions. So he took a leaf out of Kyleigh’s book: “She found me, more like.”

  “She just found you, eh?” the innkeeper said with a grin. “Well that don’t surprise me. That’s the way it always happens … when you meet that special lady.”

  Kael nearly choked on his bread.

  “I know exactly what you mean, boy,” he continued, a knowing twinkle in his eye. “You’re just going about your business one day and,” he clapped his hands together, “it’s like a slap around the ears, like the first time you ever felt something. Leastways, that’s how it was when I found my darling.” He glanced at the hearth, where Kyleigh and the dogs had settled down for a nap, and lowered his voice. “Do you know how to catch a woman’s heart?”