Petrodor atobas-2

by Joel Shepherd

  His stare settled back on Arastyn. The hatred was not so intense now. He wanted very badly to kill him. But he also wanted…What did he want? Come to that, why was he even here? Why come crashing into this temple to ruin his sister's wedding? Were all these fools worth his blood and sweat? When he'd left the only people who meant anything to him standing in the lane, cursing him for an ungrateful fool? He invoked their name, to drive the point home to these thick-headed idiots, to tell them of the perspective he'd gained out in the wilds of Valhanan…but only now did he realise how much that experience had meant to him.

  They were leaving without him. Heading back to Baerlyn, and Lynette, who would surely be sad if he did not return, whatever her complaining. Andreyis too. And Jaegar, who would shake his head and think of something wise to say, no doubt. And the village girls who had whispered and giggled when he came near. And a princess who'd watched him leave in the alley just now, with something close to tears…

  Jaryd blinked. The fury was fading fast. Sofy had said what to him? Dear spirits, what was he doing here?

  He wheeled the mare about once more and kicked with his heels. There were yells from behind, and men ran to close the temple doors, but they were too late. He clattered out into bright sunshine, and slowed the mare so that she did not slip too badly on the steps. There were fewer townsfolk present now, but enough remained to scatter in panic from his path. Again, Falcon Guards stood their horses still, making no effort to pursue. About the edge of the square, Jaryd glimpsed more men on horseback, not in armour or guard colours. They were heading away, back toward the inns and the stables. That was worse, Jaryd knew. He had little time.

  He rode the mare as fast as he dared on the streets, holding her wide and diving into the corners so as to lessen the skid of her hooves. Even so, she staggered and slid so hard he swore he would fall…only she recovered, avoided collision with the wall and continued. Random townsfolk darted aside, and then there was the bridge before him, with fields and orchards across the river and Falcon Guardsmen blocking the way. Yet, even as he rode, they reined aside, waving him on.

  “Go, M'Lord!” one of them yelled and, as he flashed by, Jaryd recognised none other than Sergeant Garys of the Udalyn campaign. “They're ahead of you!”

  Jaryd cleared the bridge's rise, then cut alongside the road to where soft turf made galloping easier, sparing a wave to Sergeant Garys as he did. The turf was torn from previous hooves, freshly made. He was not far behind.

  He rode the gentle slope out of town between the stone wall and the paved road, occasionally risking the pavings where the gap between stone and an irrigation ditch became too narrow. The mare shied and flinched, but she seemed to get the idea. Soon he was flying along a flat stretch between barren fields and thriving green orchards, Algery lost behind green folds of trees and pasture.

  He flashed by several carts on the road, then some travelling horsemen and then the pavings stopped and he could race down the road's centre without fear, tearing up clods of earth in his wake. To his left now came Chereny Wood. Up ahead would be the little stream he recalled. Sure enough, here came the small bridge, and he slowed the mare, to the horse's snorting surprise, and turned her off the road and onto the stream bank. It was wide enough for a gallop, until it emerged back onto the road, saving time.

  Past some obscuring hedges that lined the road, he caught a glimpse of a horse's backside at a gallop. An acceleration, and several bends, and he was on them. Teriyan saw him first, riding at the rear, red hair flying. He grinned, waved, and gave a whoop of delight. Jaryd grinned back, closed alongside as the road took another gentle bend past a farmhouse, and clasped the older man's hand.

  Ahead was Sofy, skirts pulled high to clear the saddle, but riding mostly on her stirrups anyhow. Jaryd was somewhat astonished at how well she held her balance-big horses like these ones were vastly different to Sofy's little dussieh, especially at speed. She peered back at him through a blowing veil of hair, and grinned also. Jaryd took her hand, at full gallop, and leaned to kiss it. Sofy laughed. Jaryd thought she might have hugged him, but was wise enough not to attempt it.

  He exchanged happy greetings with Byorn, then assumed the lead from Ryssin and took them off the main road, down a narrower way between pasture walls. They were close to the southern edge of Algery Valley, where folded slopes lifted from the valley floor, blanketed with trees, and emerged at points above in sheer, rocky outcrops. For a while he set them a steady pace, allowing the horses some respite. The trees came down into the valley, and he took them along a well-remembered horse trail that ducked down to a low stream that poured off the valley side. There he bid them halt for a moment and water the sweating horses. Amidst the trees, and in a sheltered fold of land, there was no chance of being seen.

  “Well?” Teriyan demanded.

  “Well what?” said Jaryd, examining the mare for any sign of lameness.

  “Well, did you kill anyone?”

  Sofy, too, had briefly abandoned her horse to come and listen. She leaned against the mare's side with less eagerness than Teriyan. It was a more mature, pained expectation than Jaryd might have anticipated from the girl he'd first met in Baen-Tar, and come to know on the road to the Udalyn Valley.

  “Several,” Jaryd said flatly, feeling a foreleg that had surely bruised, on pavings, collisions with opposing mounts, or temple doors. “No one I immediately recognised, and all trying to kill me at the time. No one inside the temple, though.”

  “You got into the temple?” Teriyan asked.

  “Aye.”

  “On the horse?”

  “Aye.”

  “With the wedding still in progress?”

  “Aye,” said Jaryd, a touch irritably. “What's your point?”

  “We're fucked!” said Teriyan, with feeling. “That's my point! You made Arastyn and company look like a right bunch of turkeys now! They'll send everyone they've got after us!”

  “Aye,” Jaryd said shortly, and shrugged. “Maybe. They won't have the Falcon Guard helping them, that's for sure.”

  “That's still every damn nobleman who can sit ahorse, and a bunch of townsmen too!”

  “For sure, but can they track?” Jaryd pointed ahead. “Another twenty folds and the valley turns north, then we're into the horse trails straight to Valhanan. Once there, we can find a stream, ride up it, climb out on some rocks-this lot can't track in the woods to save their lives, they're city folk.”

  “They've dogs,” Teriyan objected.

  Jaryd shook his head. “Good for game but bad for horses, and in poor shape too.”

  “Why not go south into the forest here?” Sofy asked, pointing upstream into the thick trees. “Why stay in the valley where they can chase us?”

  “Because thirty folds south,” said Jaryd, “is Talyekar Ridge, which is pretty much impassable, so we'd have to go east anyhow. If we go east through this forest, we'll do it slowly, while our pursuers in the valley will do it quickly. They'll get well ahead of us, then cut us off. Best to make fast ground while we can, it's easier to lose them while they're close behind than it is to avoid them when they're already ahead of us, setting up ambush.”

  Sofy nodded, biting her lip.

  “Sounds like a plan,” Teriyan said roughly and smacked the younger man on the shoulder. “Glad you decided to join us after all!” He said it with a reprimand that promised retributions to come, but with humour all the same. Jaryd smiled and set to adjusting his saddle.

  Sofy put a hand on his shoulder. “You didn't get your revenge?” she asked.

  Jaryd shook his head. “No. But some Goeren-yai say that revenge is the only sustenance that will not perish with age.”

  Sofy did not look particularly amused at that. “Then why come back?” she asked.

  Jaryd looked at her. Her long hair was tangled and windblown, yet it did not suit her ill. Her big, dark eyes were earnest. Questioning. “Since Tarryn was killed, I've been thinking only of reasons to die,” he said simply. “Lately,
I thought of some reasons to live.” He kissed her on the cheek.

  Sofy stared at him, astonished.

  “Mount up,” he told her. “We have to move. And don't tell anyone I did that, or I'll have Prince Koenyg joining the long line for my severed head.”

  “Oh, you'll have many more than Koenyg!” Sofy said brightly, retreating to her horse. “You'll have the archbishop for one, he'd be furious. And my brother Wylfred, he'd be most upset.” All of a sudden she was bubbly again.

  “All right, I get the idea.”

  “Oh, and Damon! Damon would kick your backside if I told him!” She mounted swiftly enough that Jaryd had to wonder if her little dussieh was the only horse she'd been riding, as she'd claimed. “And probably Father too. He's the King of Lenayin, you know.”

  “I heard,” Jaryd said drily.

  “And Lord Terfelt of Valhanan, he visited again last month, he's got such a crush on me.”

  “You don't think I could take him?”

  “Silence,” Sofy said primly, “I'm compiling my list. Now let's see, there's…” Jaryd pressed heels to the mare and forded the stream before she could continue. “I'll have it all memorised by the time we stop again!” Sofy called after him, unperturbed. “You'll be so thrilled to learn of all the people who love me so much they'd want you dead! I'm very popular, you know.”

  “I used to think Sasha was the craziest princess,” Jaryd said to Teriyan in passing. “But she told me some stories about Alythia and, now I know Sofy, I'm beginning to think Sasha might be the sanest.”

  Soon the forest trail became farmland once more, broken by rows of trees and bushes, and increasingly steep, rolling terrain. They passed farmers tending animals, ploughing fields or pruning orchards, and others on the road with carts. The party attracted many strange looks, but there wasn't much anyone could do about that now.

  At a bend about a gentle slope, Jaryd reined his mare to a halt. Down to the right, along the base of the forested hills climbing up from the valley, ran a small stream. Ryssin rode up beside him. “What's the problem?”

  “I know this way well,” said Jaryd, edgily. “The Daeryn Road arrives ahead, it's a fast ride from Algery if you gallop.”

  “Fast enough to cut us off?” Ryssin asked, guessing Jaryd's concern.

  “Aye, maybe. There's about ten good routes to get to where we're going, but it's not like there's any shortage of chasers. They'll split up and follow the lot. I'm not worried about those behind us, we can outrun them…but if any got ahead…”

  “You think we should go around?” Ryssin asked.

  “Maybe,” said Jaryd. “But it'll be slow, and then we might really get caught.”

  “Sitting here's pretty slow too,” said Ryssin. “Your choice, lad, pick one.”

  Jaryd exhaled hard. “Go back and tell them-if we strike trouble, ride at them. There'll be no guardsmen following, it'll all be nobles, and they'll not have had much time for armour. The only ones wearing armour were at the wedding, and I don't think any of those will be chasing.”

  “Aye,” said Ryssin. Jaryd nudged the mare forward and rounded the bend. Ahead, hedges and poplars lined the fences at the Daeryn Road intersection. The greenery was thick, but not so thick that it could hide horses and riders. No, if there were going to be an ambush, it would come from the barn he saw on the left. He rode further, and the barn came into view past a rise. He could not see anything. But then, that was why they called it an ambush.

  He glanced behind to see that everyone was following, then checked to the right where Daeryn Road continued downhill to a little bridge over the stream…and glimpsed movement from the corner of his eye. His head whipped around, and there, charging from behind the barn, were four horsemen…no, six…no, nine horsemen.

  “Ride!” he yelled, and slammed in his heels. The mare bolted, and he tore across the intersection risking a glance behind…Ryssin, then Byorn, then Sofy, skirts flying. He had to turn back before Teriyan came into view, but he guessed he would be there too, guarding the rear. He held the mare wide right, then cut into the left-hand bend ahead, as he'd learned in many reckless races along such roads in his youth…

  A glance behind showed Ryssin following his line, then Byorn. He made a similar line at the next right. Probably, he thought grimly, the wind rushing in his face, whoever was chasing knew these roads equally well. Probably it was someone who knew him well, to have guessed he might come this way. Having Teriyan at the rear had seemed a reasonable precaution before-he was the best warrior astride after Jaryd. But fighting from horseback was not the same as regular swordplay. Had they all been afoot, Jaryd had no doubt the nine nobility would have little chance against the four swordsmen of their party. But horses were expensive, and nobility had vastly more riding experience than even Teriyan.

  Jaryd knew how to lose them…or at least, some of them. It was an old trick, in these parts, and doubtless his pursuers knew it too…but now, there was Sofy to worry about. She had the least riding experience of them all. Perhaps…perhaps it would be best for her to turn and surrender? They'd never harm a princess of Lenayin. But what if she never got the opportunity to open her mouth and they killed an insolent country girl for conspiring with a traitor? Teriyan was right-he'd made these men mad. Likely whomever they caught would not live long enough to make pretty explanations.

  Trees, then fields, then farmhouses all flashed by as the road wound back and forth, and Jaryd searched impatiently for a suitable location. Then he saw it-an orchard, sloping toward the stream. Beyond the stream, the rising, forest-covered slope of the valley side. He pointed hard with his right arm and hoped to the gods that Sofy would be able to muscle her horse off the road if it baulked. The orchard was surrounded by low stone walls, but one corner fronting the road was missing for access…Jaryd urged the mare sharply through the hole. The mare didn't like it, but he left her no doubt and she went, hooves uncertain on new footing, rushing past fruit trees. He ducked some branches and then he was in the lane between planting furrows and the mare accelerated once more, liking this new road better.

  Jaryd glanced behind and saw Ryssin, Byorn…then Sofy…good. He slowed the mare again and cut right, ducking branches. A hanging fruit hit him in the head, and he raised an arm to protect his face from another branch. Soon he cut left again, onto a wider lane, checking behind…again, Ryssin was there, but he had no time to see the others. The ground beneath the trees was thick with long bullgrass, which would hide the horses’ tracks. Certainly they could be tracked, but slowly, and the pursuers would have no choice but to split up.

  After a while of zigzagging toward what he thought was the centre of the orchard, Jaryd stopped. Ryssin appeared between the thick branches, but there was no space to stand two horses aside, so he rounded the nearest tree. Byorn came past also, then Sofy, who stopped in the lane between trees. Then Teriyan, squeezing his horse against a tree's branches, leaning low in the saddle amidst the leaves and fruit.

  “Good thinking, lad,” he said, breathing hard. From somewhere behind, Jaryd could hear yells; hooves thundering one direction, and another.

  “They'll split around the perimeter,” said Jaryd. “About half of them. The other half will come in through the trees and try to flush us out.”

  “Couldn't they dismount and crouch down?” Sofy asked, looking dubiously at the surrounding trunks. “Can't they see the legs of our horses?”

  Jaryd was impressed-it was exactly what they'd done, sometimes, hiding from irate farmers, or opposing teams in boyhood games. “In a younger orchard, yes. But this is mature, see how the branches hang down?” Sure enough, many fruit-laden boughs were pressing the grassy ground. “You can't see more than two or three furrows in any direction.”

  Sofy was breathing hard and clearly a little frightened, yet she looked remarkably composed for all that. Her hair, though, was now thoroughly tangled, and she bore a red scratch on one cheek.

  “What now then?” asked Teriyan. “Do we split up?”

>   “Better to stay together,” said Jaryd. “Splitting up just increases the odds they'll find one group or another. They've got holes in their formation now-if we can find one, best we get all of us through it.” Teriyan nodded. “They'll think we'll be heading across the stream into the forest…I reckon we keep going across the valley, they won't expect it, there'll be less of them guarding that side. I'll ride down on my own and be seen, draw them into chasing me back into the orchard, while you lot take off to the east. I'll follow as I can.”

  “Wait, wait!” Sofy protested. “You said we'd stick together!”

  “I said you'd best stick together,” Jaryd retorted. “I know these idiots chasing us, I know this country, I've escaped mobs chasing me before and I can do it again-my biggest problem is other people slowing me down.” With a firm stare at the princess. Sofy's return stare suggested she didn't believe him. “Ryssin, scout forward near the edge of the orchard…when you hear my diversion, ride like a demon.”

  The woodsman nodded. “We'll head for the trees further up,” he said, “and risk the slower trails.”

  “Aye,” Jaryd agreed, “I think we're far enough east by now anyhow.”

  “Head for the highest point along the ridge if we're split up,” said Ryssin. “I'll find you.”

  Jaryd nodded, turned and rode downslope, the mare ducking and weaving uncertainly through the tangling branches. He heard the others moving off. Then other hooves, somewhere more distant, horses moving through the trees. He unsheathed his sword. If he came upon one of the nobles in this thicket, there was not going to be much time to react.