Engaging Evil (Warriors of Vhast Book 2)

by Cary J Lenehan

  Astrid set off to find a campsite for them all that she was happy with, which took until it was almost completely dark. She was pleased with what she had found and showed it off as if she had created it for the others. A thick stand of blackwoods and leatherwoods stood a hundred paces upslope from the road, tight against a small cliff. It was not until you were nearly through the stand that you realised that the cliff had an overhang fifteen paces deep and four high to give shelter from above. All of them, as well as the horses, could fit beneath the cliff and their watch had only to look out from the trees, down a talus slope that was bare except for small fallen rocks and some stunted scrub of red-stemmed mountain peppers, some bearing ripe fruit, and cheeseberries. The cave even had ledges and alcoves at the rear to sleep in. Not even the crow would see them in there and it was well back from where they could be seen from the lookout point, although the road below was not. Someone has obviously used it in the distant past for the same purpose. There are the remains of a very old fireplace here and there are markings on some of the walls that may have been meant to be people and animals. Some were outlines of hands—all six fingers outlined clearly on most although some of the faintest—and so probably the oldest—looked very odd as they only had five fingers outlined. Once the fire had been lit Astrid checked if it could be seen from outside and was reassured to find out that it could not.

  They prepared a meal and set camp. That night, forgetting until too late that others might hear the purring, Basil and Astrid tenderly made love and held each other to sleep. The night was otherwise uneventful.

  ~~~

  With the first grey light of morning just beginning to shade the sky with the promise of dawn, they broke their fast. Once they were started, Father Christopher caused much amusement by innocently asking if anyone on watch had seen any mountain lions around the camp, as he was sure that he had heard some in the night.

  What did I miss? Oh my God. He is teasing me…my priest is teasing me. Astrid could feel herself blushing. “I am so sorry Father,” she said contritely. Why does it shock me more than a bit that my otherworldly cleric seems to have found an earthy side to him that has been long hidden and is just now coming out. Damn Basil, the upturned ends of his mouth tell me he picked up on it straight away. She slapped his arm indignantly.

  Before she set out to scout, this time with Thord, who was hung about with rope and various pouches, Father Christopher, who had held short prayers each day on the trail, declared that this was Krondag and before anyone went anywhere he was going to hold a full service. With the others looking on curiously he gathered her and Basil, Theodora and Stefan, and started. Astrid looked at the others. Bianca sat nearby, but apart from the other Christians. It seemed that she was unsure whether to sit with the Orthodox or with the other three. She must have eventually decided that her soul needed some consolation and, with evident trepidation, joined in on the end of the worshippers. Father Christopher said nothing but moved around slightly to include her better. It was a quick service and the whole group listened in to what he had to say in a short sermon about fighting evil, although he spoke in Latin and a few whispered translations had to take place. Even Astrid needed some help there. Once again she realised that her Latin was actually very poor. She muttered under her breath about that, but it had never mattered before. Except for blessings and benedictions, and everyone knew what to say there, services at home were mostly done in Darkspeech.

  When the brief service was over, and with the sun still hidden behind the mountains, and the last stars were still in the sky to the west, Astrid and Thord grabbed a quick bite and a supply of dried food and headed off. She wanted to be in place before dawn fully arrived. The others settled in for a day or two of resting and mending. They would put the fire out well before dawn so that any accidental smoke would not betray their presence.

  It was a different person who came to the lookout. This time it was Thord who was below the ridge and had to have everything relayed to him. From his clothes and armour the new observer must be originally from Freehold. He is obviously a soldier and used to the outdoors, but from the noise he makes, no bushman. Although he is more thorough with his eyes, he is going through the same motions that the mage had and, again, not finding anything of interest. Again I can feel the funny prickly feeling. It looks like I will feel that whenever my protection works. He barely used the telescope and is obviously not expecting to see anything after his first quick scan. He headed noisily back down the path but, instead of heading back up the valley, he turned left. When he came to the area where Astrid thought the second trap was he stopped and started checking the wall of the cliff at eye height. He obviously found something as he stopped and grunted. He then backed up before making a short run and leaping a pace and a half along the ledge. The armsman moved further down the track, again checking the rock wall before stopping and carefully leaning forward to pick up the rock Astrid had thrown. Standing erect he casually tossed the rock into the rivulet.

  Having done that he turned around and moved to the upper trap, checking the wall and jumping again. Without looking back he continued up the valley, whistling tunelessly.

  “We might just be able to walk in,” said Astrid. “I am going to see if I can see those marks. Can you make some sort of noise if you see something?” she asked Thord.

  “Will crow noise do?” he replied. “I’m no entertainer, but shepherds oft hear lot of crows.”

  “Good,” said Astrid, as she quickly made her way down the slope and around onto the ledge. Just as she was where she thought the trap was she saw a mark. A faint ‘X’, almost like a fault in the stone, was visible on the rock. How I missed it last time I do not know. She backed up and jumped. When she landed she looked up at where Thord should be. She couldn’t see him and heard nothing so she looked at the rock wall behind her. Sure enough, on the wall was another ‘X’ mark. More confidently she moved on to the next trap and repeated the process. She looked up. Unlike when she looked for Rani, there was still no sign of Thord. Well, I am in now. I may as well see what lies ahead.

  She went up the path cautiously. On her right was the cliff while on her left was a drop of several paces to the fast-running rivulet. A fall would be deadly. I suspect that, even if I could swim it wouldn’t do me much good in that swift cold mountain stream. Luckily the path is wide enough. Just before she reached the corner she started examining the rock wall beside her, but she saw no marks. The corner kept turning until it had gone through a full quadrant. Looking back, Thord was hidden from view.

  Ahead she could see the cliffs opening up and she flattened herself around the rock, seeking shadows and trying to move inconspicuously while at the same time trying to look at the cliff for a mark. Her gymnastics were rewarded when, just before the opening, she noticed another ‘X’ mark and leapt to clear it. Again she found the second mark and continued. Suddenly, just as had been described, the valley opened up before her. The ledge led to a path, which led to some fields a hand of hundreds of paces away. Across the path, and obviously blocking the exit for stock was the prosaic sight of a wooden gate, looking exactly the same as one would find on any prosperous farm, only newer than most. I can feel prickling. The gate must have a trap on it to detect magic. She was careful not to touch it in case it had a trap for that as well.

  Moving through the fields, and disappearing to the right, was the soldier. It looked like the village was where it was supposed to be. She couldn’t see anyone else about. She carefully studied the gate. She couldn’t see any traps on it, even though she knew at least one was there, but she couldn’t see the other three. She felt the rock. The cliff walls around the gate are very—indeed suspiciously—smooth. From the look of the walls they must had been smoothed…polished…with magic. There is no way over the gate without touching it or flying…and flying might set off the magic detection. From here she could see that the ledge on the other side came around the corner, turned again abruptly in a promise of a cave into the cliff, a
nd then ended in a smooth wall of stone. It was a dead end. The traps on it might be for something far more than just giving a warning. She took another look around, including, carefully, over the edge of the path into the water. There is no way to go any further without touching the gate and without doubt that would at least set off an alarm. It seems that we will not get into the valley this way. Carefully she retraced her route and re-joined an obviously relieved Thord. She described what she had seen.

  “Perhaps I could climb t’wall near t’gate,” Thord suggested.

  “The wall is polished as smooth as glass. You would need to fly, and I think that they would detect that. When I was near the gate I had a funny feeling. I think it was my spell protecting me from being detected. We need to find another way in. Their village is only a few hundred paces south of the pass. There must be another way to get to it if we are careful.”

  “Well, let’s move south’n’ try’n’ find it,” suggested Thord.

  Astrid nodded, and they moved off down the road. As far as they could see the way up the hill was difficult, more difficult than it appeared from below. We would be in plain view from the lookout. Eventually they chose a likely spot to start climbing.

  “When they had more people and could have someone there all of the time, this would have been impossible,” she said, when they were having a break. “It makes me think that they may have overlooked it now. Mind you, we need to keep an eye out for places to hide when they come to check.”

  “It’s near midday,” said Thord. “Do you t’ink t’at someone’ll come t’en?”

  “I would,” replied Astrid.

  “Well we can rest behind t’ere’n’ see.” Thord pointed out a small outcrop of rock with some small upland bushes with tiny sharp-pointed leaves on them. A last few tiny pink flowers lingered on some and a few others had a couple of different kinds of pink flowers, smaller than a grain of wheat. They moved to it as quickly as they could and Thord found a place where he could lie down out of sight. Actually he is more resting than lying down. He is closer to standing as he is to being horizontal, but he has a firm footing and I can still just see the lookout position three hundred paces away. They had a while to wait as the sun climbed into the sky. Both were drowsing a bit in a rare burst of sunshine through the grey sky, when a watcher appeared.

  “He is here…the mage,” whispered Astrid, giving Thord a nudge. Anxiously she looked north to where her lover was camped, but, although she could see the wind disturbing the tops of the trees in front of the cliff, there was no betraying sign of the camp. The mage went through the rituals of watching and headed back down the path. We are at a slight westward projection of the mountains and a watcher, with the right equipment, should be able to see or detect a full day’s travel north and south. It looks like the spells that Theodora cast have worked, or else we have been lucky—otherwise the watchers would not be so casual. I wonder if they even know of the ambush attempt on us. She waited a few minutes before saying, “Let’s go on. Do you think that we can get the others up this way?”

  “I could ride up here,” said Thord dismissively. “T’ey should be able to climb it, even t’mages.”

  It turned out that they didn’t have much further to climb. The fold that Thord had been hiding in led towards a small dip in the rock wall behind them. The cleft they were following had a large slab of rock, seemingly split from the cliff beside it, which had fallen over it. By chance it formed a sort of small cave or tunnel several paces long and two wide. Although it was three paces high on one side it sloped quickly to the ground on the other forming a steep lean-to of stone. Perhaps the tunnel might get them under any field that may be around the valley. It might not even be visible from below in the valley itself…at least the saddle that it forms has room in it for our whole group to rest in. Astrid looked around. It is even out of sight from the lookout and from below on the path. Unless the crow, or whoever sends it, flies directly over us, we won’t be seen here. Even if they fly over, the saddle is deep enough that, unless they are using detection spells, the shadows and the fallen rocks will probably still hide us.

  Making Thord stay well back in the saddle, Astrid moved forward cautiously, looking for traps and waiting to see if anything made her prickle. It is not likely. If the watch point were manned no one would be able to reach this place without being seen or detected. I seem to be right. I cannot see or feel anything untoward. Getting close to the edge ahead she carefully put down her spear, took her bow off her back, and went down on to her stomach and inched slowly forward like a stalking cat.

  Peering over the edge, but trying to remain in shade, her face took on the satisfied smile of a predatory cat seeing a fat unsuspecting prey sitting complacent beneath it. Directly below her was a small village sitting in a wide cleft in the rock wall. Its several rows of houses, each with a path extending around the valley, were built against and carved into the rock, and extended up both sides and the end of the small valley. The highest roof of the settlement was only twenty paces below her. From what she could see steps led from one row to the other. She could readily see that most of the buildings looked to be derelict and unused. Some of the lowest row had repairs done to them, work obviously carried out by an amateur—and one who was poorly equipped and didn’t care. In the centre was a paved area with a spring surfacing at one end in a walled pool of water, emerging from the rock. From this spring arose a gentle splashing sound of constant water. Where it went to from there she could not see. Perhaps into a drain. People walked below her and she could see the watcher mage that she had seen from the gate coming slowly up a path from the fields.

  Astrid settled down to observe the village with the patience of a hunter who stalks her prey. Most of the people had no weapons, not even knives. What is more most of them were women and girls, pretty ones, some even children, none looking happy and none of the children were playing. These must be the brigand’s slaves. She could easily see a fortification across the mouth of the cleft. It was only a small wall about four paces high with a parapet facing out. It had a gate with two door parts in it set in a slightly higher and thicker section of stone in the centre. A watchman armed with a bow stood on the walkway below the top. Although it was made for defence from without, interestingly he was watching the village and the people in it. He didn’t even glance outwards and he walked with an arrow nocked, but not drawn. He seems to be more worried about rebellion than external attack. Beyond the wall she could see where a number of stone walled fields were laid out. From what little I know about such things it looks like someone in the village knows something at least about agriculture; a lot more than I do at any rate. I cannot even say what was growing. One large field seems to have grain about to be harvested and another has the grain already taken in and it is now only stubble with sheep grazing in it. Two other fields of around the same size have other things growing in them…I am not a farmer…green things and two more lie fallow and have cows in them. There were some fruit trees in an orchard and what looked like a hen house beside it, the birds still inside for the night. I can hear them. There are other signs of a prosperous farm. Beyond them, on the slopes that led away up the valley are a larger flock of sheep. From what I can see the usable area is at least as large as the fields that lie around Wolfneck, and this far south they will have far less snow to worry about. This could be a rich valley if they wanted.

  She saw a group of women slaves going out of the gate carrying tools, dressed just in very short leather skirts and aprons, their breasts bare in the chill air. A mounted archer…a Khitan…followed them. He was staying well away from their tools and she could see that he had a whip coiled around the horn of his saddle; a couple of women showed marks that could be from it. It seemed that the brigands kept tight control over their people. There was a big building like a tavern or a large house…another was possibly a granary or storehouse. There was a large barn outside the wall…a woman was driving pigs and geese out of it towards the fields, another
released the chickens under the trees…there was a very big stable inside and two buildings built like barracks or perhaps a many-roomed sleeping hall and another that might be a public hall. One of the barracks buildings had its windows boarded up from the outside and was probably where the slaves were kept. The other would be where brigands stayed. There were also more than a few hands of houses and workshops. The houses are all derelict. Some of the workshops looked to be in better repair. They are the ones the skilled slaves use. She noticed that the few unarmed men all wore leg-irons or chains, so they were unlikely to be able to run either far or fast. The large building was finer and in better repair than the others. The mage had gone into it. It was a two storey building with a small balcony built under each window. Along the front of it was a long wooden veranda with a roof of slate above it. It had a guard in full mail sitting on a broad bench outside under the cover. Beside him was a helm and, leaning against the wall beside him, a great axe.

  The main building was far enough away that she could see under the veranda roof. The guard was tall and blonde with braided hair and beard. He looks like one of my people. She looked closer. His hands seem to have claws like a bear’s on them, over the fingers. He must be from Wolfneck. Astrid reflected on this. When I was very young there was a man called Thorkil who had looked like that…He had been outlawed ten?…twelve? years ago. I was a child then. What had he done?…How could I have forgotten?…A girl a few years younger than I was had disappeared while picking mushrooms. She was far too young to have been taken for marriage and the village had been in turmoil. A few days later Thorkil had also disappeared and men had gone out to bring him back but had failed. If any had been in a position to see her, Astrid’s teeth were showing more now, but her smile had completely disappeared. I should kill him now. A person like him would explain why some of the girls below were so young.