“It’s a trap!” yelled Redbeard. “Close up and fight your way out! Now!”
Swords, axes and clubs were drawn and blows rained down on heads, delivered vigorously by the men on horseback but as fast as one citizen fell, another took their place and even if they fell they still held on. Raleen saw at least one of the company, gripped by three unconscious pairs of hands, get pulled out of his saddle and fall to the ground. The crowd surged over him and he was ripped limb from limb by the ensorcelled villagers. Another of Redbeard’s group went down, also dragged from the saddle. Things were desperate. Up front, Redbeard’s black stallion was striking with its front feet and spinning around to kick villagers out of the way but there were too many of them. Those of the Band armed with swords were now hewing off the hands holding on to them but their owners merely tried to find a new grip with the spraying stumps. Blood was everywhere. Raleen felt a warm spray across her face but didn’t have time to wipe it away as the thinning ranks of her guards closed in tightly around her. Up at the front, Redbeard and Caron were now trying to cut a path through the throng with their swords, all the time kicking their horses, urging them to go faster and ride over anyone in front of them.
Redbeard whacked his horse on the rump with the flat of his sword and it began bucking and plunging which cleared an area for them. Right beside Raleen, Madaxe was using his twin axes to hew hands off faster than they could grip and also cleaving a few skulls as they came within range. His talents also kept her free from being grabbed. It took almost fifteen minutes to fight their way to the edge of town where the crowd thinned out enough for them to make a run for it.
Any normal group of armed men would have been overcome long ago but these men were handpicked by Redbeard and were some of the finest fighters in the land ever to ride for a mercenary band. Some bore expensive weapons bought from Callandor himself.
Still surrounded by some of Redbeard’s men, Raleen found out how fast a gallop actually is when on horseback. It was giddying and frightening at the same time but she was still coming to grips with all the bloodletting she had just witnessed and didn’t have time to allow fear to envelop her. She felt a little faint but she was not some whimpering, soft, fragile female, she was Raleen nasi Tsalk and she was damned if she was going to fold, so gripping the pommel of the saddle even tighter, she hung on to Trollop for grim death.
The mad gallop lasted for about ten minutes until Sniffer, who was one of the survivors, yelled out. “No more magic Sir,” at the top of his voice. Redbeard reined in and walked his horse, letting it take in great draughts of air as did the rest of them. He turned in his saddle and stood in the stirrups and did a head count. He shook his head and counted again.
“Anyone see Whistle or Gasher?”
“See’d em fall, Sir,” a voice answered. “Didn’t have time to help.”
“Don’t worry Crusher, none of us did. We lost eight of us in that little trap. No need to tell you to be wary from now on. Someone doesn’t want us to reach Belvedere. The good news; five of the eight didn’t have a wife or girlfriend so their share gets divided, same as normal.”
A faint ragged cheer greeted this announcement but it was obvious the men would rather have had their companions than the money any day.
Redbeard picked the pace up for the next few days until they reached the flatter ground at the end of the Grand Valley. There he slowed down a little for the sake of the horses, not wanting to wear them out too much but still one went lame. They had no spares now, Forbidden had claimed them all, so the rider was doubled by each of his companions for an hour at a time so as not to harm any more of the mounts.
It was a smaller, weary band who rode back into Crossroads a week and a half after leaving Cumbrisia’s End.
Redbeard took over an inn, ‘The Black Butt,’ with a picture of three dark barrels on its hanging sign. Not huge but comfortable and clean. He paid in advance for all the rooms and the stable stalls and deputised Madaxe to trade the lame horse for a sound one while he went to see the Commander of the Militia. Before Redbeard left the inn, he put four of his men to guarding Raleen. Orders were she had to be in line of sight at all times. It made things like toileting awkward but Raleen managed it by draping a blanket across a rope tied from one side of her room to the other when she needed to use the chamber pot.
She was a virtual prisoner but was secretly glad of it. She just couldn’t get the sight of those blank faces with the white eyes and waving stumps of arms spraying blood everywhere out of her thoughts.
Redbeard stood in front of the Militia Commander and started to relate his story. He knew the man, had fought with him once or twice and against him once. He was fair and honest and probably the best man for the job. The Commander indicated a chair and Redbeard pulled it up as the Commander reached into his lower desk drawer and removed a bottle of spirits and two small glasses, pouring a shot each and listening to the rest of the story without interrupting. He knew Redbeard as a truthful person and this story, wild as it sounded, tied in with a few other things which had been going on of late. Odd murders in Crossroads and strangers spotted around Forbidden, some rumoured to be other than Man. Magic, how he hated it but it was in the world and one did what one could. He leaned forward and refilled Redbeard’s glass.
“I’ll send a troop of one hundred men up there. Do you think that’ll be enough?”
“Should be but they’ll need to be well armed and carry their own food. I wouldn’t eat anything from around that stinking town, it reeks of bad magic. Sniffer reckons it’s ‘bad’ bad magic. He’d never met its like before.”
“Sniffer! That old magic-burned bastard. Is he still with you? He must be sixty if he’s a day.”
The Commander sounded amused.
“May be but until I find another with his nose for smelling out magic, he stays. He still fights well and he’s no trouble. The magic what burned him must have preserved him a bit.” Redbeard chuckled at his own joke. “Anyway, I got to get back to the inn. We’re staying at the ‘Black Butt’, all of us; I hired the inn for a day or two. Won’t have no trouble from us, we have to get to Belvedere as soon as possible. The horses needed a break though.”
The Commander rose and extended his hand which was taken and clasped by Redbeard.
“Thanks for dropping in with your report and I hope all goes well with you. Goodbye Tomas and take care.”
As Redbeard turned and left the room the Commander reflected upon the secret dispatch he had received from Southland’s Council of Ten in Belvedere a few days before. It had outlined their belief that Empress Martine was readying for war and warned they were conserving their city’s food supplies just in case. The Commander sincerely hoped the incident Redbeard had reported was not part of the coming troubles. A disruption of the year’s grain harvest in the next five to six weeks could be disastrous for Cumbrisia’s peoples.
He had to act now.
Raleen had wisely used her time to soak in a hot bath, set up behind the hanging blanket in her room. A tub had been found and brought upstairs. It was filled with buckets of water heated in big pots over the kitchen fire. Her aches had gradually diminished as she soaked up the heat of the tub and Raleen was extremely relieved they were having a break for a day or two, although she did believe she was becoming hardened to the riding.
The exploration of Crossroads would have to wait for another time though, because Redbeard had ordered his band and Raleen to lay low at the inn until it was time to leave. There were too many strange eyes and ears around the town for his liking and the affair at Forbidden had shaken Redbeard somewhat, although he would never admit it to anyone.
They ate well, as did their horses and the time of rest was good for all. Vigilance however was not relaxed. Each night, two guards were posted to the same room as the sleeping Raleen and after midnight, another two took their place. A round-the-clock guard which gave Raleen a feeling of security. She was even happier, two days later, when they all rode south out of town ear
ly in the morning.
Riding was no problem now. She believed she had developed calluses on her rump and her inner thigh muscles were now used to gripping the horse when necessary. She had new respect for horses, ridden day after day and still they were eager to please unless bone tired. Raleen came to know all the horses in the band as individuals. They all had their own personalities, most reflecting the rider who owned them. Her own horse, Trollop, was a gem, well behaved and a stayer.
To her right as they rode south, the foothills of Mehgrin’s Wall rose away from the band in tiers but on her left the open grassland was endless, like the sea at home. The long grass, browning off in the warmth down here off the mountains, waved in the steady breeze from the east, looking for all the world like wind on calm seas.
“Does the wind always blow from the east across the plains?” she asked Redbeard as she rode behind him.
“No. It’s quite unusual. Normally the wind is fairly constant from the south, coming off the Turquoise Sea at this time of the year. I have no explanation for this easterly breeze. It’s just another of the strange things which are occurring more and more commonly. Never mind, if we push on we can reach Belvedere in a week and a half and my duty will be discharged.”
“What then Master Redbeard?”
“Well, your Grandmother did mention a more or less permanent hire. I hope she meant it.”
With the rest of the band riding around her, Raleen felt safe but they were now only twelve of the original twenty who set out. The men didn’t seem too upset by the loss of their fellows and Raleen tried hard to understand their attitude.
She turned to the rider on her right.
“Madaxe, why do none of the band seem very worried about losing eight of their fellows?”
He studied her for a moment, thinking how to reply.
“It’s the sort of work we follows like. Its violent and we knows that being dead or hurt can happen sometimes, sudden like. Same as what happened in Forbidden. Those wiv wives or girlfriends know Redbeard‘ll pay em their share and us what’s left get more. We doesn’t like to lose a friend but it happens sometimes. We has a pact see. Once a man dies, he is gone. Like blowing out a lamp. Sometimes, when we gets to havin’ a drink or two, a past exploit of theirs may’n be remembered but we don’t mourn em.”
Raleen digested this information. It seemed eminently sensible for the profession they had chosen. Mercenaries, necessary balancers in the struggle for power and she had heard the odd tale of evil bands.
All day the sun shone, hot with nary a cloud in the sky and the evening was welcome for its coolness. It was a different heat from Trugor, no sea to cool the air but as the stars came out, the temperature started to drop rapidly. Not enough for a fire but still a blanket was needed to sleep comfortably. They ate a cold meal and turned in early. Lying on her back, Raleen gazed up at the night sky through the trees surrounding the campsite, looking at the stars and let her thoughts roam.
A boot nudged her and her eyes opened to dawn’s prelight. A quick breakfast and off again. Redbeard was going to push while the day was cool, to try and get the miles beneath their horse’s hooves. They passed wagons and caravans and small bands of men on horseback travelling both north and south. Redbeard knew some of them and threw a greeting, which was usually cheerfully returned, as their group cantered by.
Hour after hour, day after day in the saddle, clip clop, clip clop. Along with the creak of saddle leather, the riding became almost hypnotic. They had no problems at Southland’s Gate as Redbeard was no stranger there and within a couple of days they drew within sight of Belvedere’s walls, the sun reflecting off the white stonework, gleaming so brightly it almost hurt the eyes.
Raleen was awed. All she had heard of Belvedere could not do it justice. Never in her life before had she seen anything so grand. Inside the walls buildings soared to five or six stories, higher than any she had heard off and built of the same white stone as the walls themselves.
Belvedere was huge, the walls stretching off into the distance, east to the next corner and south to where the wall merged with the sea, a beautiful shade of blue-green off in the distance.
It was perfect.
The small, dust-covered and tired band rode through the huge gates of the city shortly thereafter, Raleen craning her neck to look everywhere at once. Wagons and carts were rolling in and out of the gateway, bearing all sorts of trade goods and people into and out of the city. Hustle and bustle, noise and movement were everywhere and everything seemed to be going so fast.
Within a few minutes the travel-worn group were being challenged by the gate guard at Cristal’s mansion. Redbeard was impressed. Things had changed in the near eleven weeks he had been away; there was a new authority and sense of purpose in Cristal’s staff.
Identified, they were admitted and rode through the gate to draw up in front of the steps to the grand building. Coming down to meet them was a sprightly grey haired lady in a fine dress, closely followed by a matronly servant on one side and on the other, a tall, slim, middle aged woman in a brown robe belted at the waist, with a sheathed long knife visible, tucked through the belt.
Cristal gazed warmly at Raleen for a moment and smiled, nodding at her before addressing Redbeard.
“Where is the brother? Not met with injury I hope, you have a few less men with you than when you started.”
“He would not come Cristal. Raleen is the best one to explain that. Yes, we had trouble in Forbidden which cost me eight of my men. Forgive me Mistress but my men and I are tired. We have delivered your granddaughter and beg to be relieved of duty.”
Cristal paused, thinking. “Thank you Redbeard, you are relieved. I would like to see you in a day or two; I have a proposition for you as well as the rest of your pay, if that suits.”
“That will be fine Mistress; I’ll send word before I come.”
Turning to Raleen he smiled warmly.
“You did well. Keep the horse as a gift.”
Then he signalled his men and as one they wheeled their mounts around and rode out of the gate leaving Raleen all alone fighting Trollop, who desired to accompany her fellows. As she brought the horse under control, Cristal stepped forward, gazing up with a huge smile on her old face.
“At last, my granddaughter, we are met. You look so much like your mother. Please, dismount.”
Raleen got down from her horse and was taken aback when her Grandmother gathered her up in a fierce hug. For an older lady there was a surprising amount of strength in those arms and a strange tingle ran throughout Raleen’s body, which seemed to produce a harmonising tingle of its own.
Her Grandmother smiled and looking up at her face, whispered to her.
“Yes child, besides being tall for a woman you have the magic but it’s still raw. Tsalk blood. I can show you a little of how to harness what you have. We can talk later. Able to spend time together at last. Now go inside with Mendle. She will show you where you can bathe and which room is yours and she will find some decent clothes for you to wear. You and I are of a size and I have plenty of dresses which I never wear. When you feel ready you can join us for a meal.”
Raleen’s horse was led away by Billit, his surly manner belying his ability with horses and Raleen followed Mendle up the stairs, carrying her saddlebags. The woman in the robe gave her a swift appraisal as she passed and Cristal stood and watched until Raleen disappeared into the house behind Mendle.
“That one is strong with magic but she doesn’t know it yet Lareeta. She has a natural ability to bring out generosity in people and I don’t think she’s even aware of it. Handy thing in a Trader. Redbeard was captivated by her, he’s never given a horse away in his life. The next few weeks will be entertaining. I only hope her brother is alright back in Trugor.”
They went into the house together, Lareeta one step behind Cristal, hand on the hilt of her longknife.
That evening Raleen met Chalc for the first time, after he’d returned from trying to train the C
ity Guard in some basic swordplay. She had never met someone as foreign looking as Chalc but he was well mannered and extremely interested to meet Arwhon’s sister. Full of praise for her brother, he proudly told her he was Servant, not a servant but Servant. Raleen had no idea what he meant, or what her brother was doing with his own servant so soon after leaving home but she was polite to the man. Kuiran was another matter. When Raleen first saw him, her heart skipped a beat. Entering the drawing room where Cristal was wont to have pre dinner drinks, he filled the doorway, stooping forward to clear the doorframe and Raleen realised that although she herself was tall, she only just came up to his chest.
The man was huge but it wasn’t his size which caused the skipped beat of her heart. Raleen had never really been interested in men before but there was something about Kuiran which made her pulse beat a little more rapidly and warmth suffuse her body.
During the course of the evening she discovered this gentle giant was her brother’s bodyguard. Kuiran called himself the Arm. This was all getting too ridiculous for words, her little brother with all these people looking after him?
By the Fate. What was going on?
16. Ch’ron.
The most massive tree at the heart of the Darkwood was the centre of its existence. The Darkwood was all the same entity, grown into many different trunks over the millennia it had existed and it was sentient.
The M’Herindar could talk with Ch’ron, as he was named, anywhere in the forest but it was to this one Tree they came to pay their respects. Its girth was tremendous and it towered above all the other trees in the Darkwood, its dark green canopy spread above all else. Silvery smooth bark sheathed its trunk and glowed faintly at night. No one knew how old Ch’ron was, not even Ch’ron but he had been there before the M’Herindar came to these lands.
The Ring Of Truth Page 40
