"Ooo. I feel kinda sick," Billy uttered.
"Me, too," said Ullin.
"Don't look down," Sheila scolded from behind.
"Don't get sick!" Robby ordered.
Ibin, too, was clearly nervous, and he constantly looked up and down, right and left, into the surrounding abyss, and then to his companions as if for reassurance, clutching the reins of his horse with one hand and the neck of his mandolin with the other, holding the tiny thing out delicately as if for balance.
"Keep moving," Ashlord coaxed.
The men ahead divided into ranks along each side where the suspended part met the landing. Fifteen, Ullin counted, plus their captain. The helmets that some wore were crudely riveted with flat tops, and they held short lances in one hand and round bucklers in the other. Each also had a sword on a belt. Bits of rusty-brown iron strapped onto leather slabs served as their armor, and their cloaks were drab and dirty shades of green and brown and scuffed-up black. As the travelers rode between them and toward the captain, Robby thought they looked no better than the first two they had encountered.
"Halt thar! State yer name an' business!"
"Collandoth. Traveling to Duinnor."
The captain was a barrel-chested man with a puffy face and a scruffy black beard covered with flecks of meat and crumbs under long stringy hair that was too thin even to mat. He had the look of too much drink as he swaggered up to take the paper from Ashlord.
"Well," he said after a moment of study, "looks genuine enough, though I can't say as I have much trust for Tallinvale folk. An' ye lack the looks of them folk, too. Who'd ye lift this writ off of?"
"It was given by Lord Tallin's hand," Ashlord stated.
"Oh, surely! Deserters, more likely, I'd say. An' a sorry lookin' lot, at that! Comin' off the Toll Road, too. It's a wonder them pixies didn't pick ye clean. Hold on," the Damar captain stated, looking at Ullin's Post bag. "A Post Rider, eh?"
"That's right."
"Well, ye'll be comin' along with us, then. All Post Riders are t'go report to Lord Cartu, whether comin' er goin'. So, get down from thar an' give me the bag."
"I must refuse."
"Refuse, eh? What's all the commotion?" the captain was distracted by yelling coming from the other side of the bridge. "A Redvest courier?"
All turned to see the guards at the far side pointing down the road at a rider tearing for the bridge at full gallop. In his saddle cup was a lance upright, and from it flew a set of white and red ribbons.
Ashlord and Ullin exchanged a quick look, and then Ashlord turned in his saddle and said loudly to the others, "I think we had better make way for the coming rider!" And at his kick, his horse leapt forward at the Damar captain.
"What the...! Stop 'em!" he cried, stumbling aside. A quick undercut to his chin by Ashlord's stick prevented the captain from drawing his sword. Immediately, a cramped melee broke out as the others of the company urged their mounts forward. At such close quarters, the lances of the Damar were nearly useless, and they bumped into one another, trying to grab at the reins or saddle straps. Robby whipped out Swyncraff and banged some heads, and Ullin had out his short sword, parrying the inept lances. Billy took hold of one of the lances that was thrust just past his face and pushed the wielder into his companion. As he kicked away one, another soldier took his horse's bridle while yet a third took aim with his lance. Before Ibin could spur to his aid, he heard a shrill whistle go past his ear, and Billy's attacker slumped down as the arrow passed through his chest and lodged into the shoulder of another. Robby jerked his reins and kicked with his right heel, spinning his horse around sideways on the bridge, knocking two Damar over the side and another soldier underneath the hooves of a pack animal. By now, their horses were in panic. With the tightness of space, the yelling, kicking, grabbing, and confusion of orders, the beasts sought to make off the bridge of their own will. Ibin's mount bucked, then it lurched forward into the pack animals. Turning around, he saw just behind him a soldier pulling Sheila's horse by the reins, trying to force it around so that he could jab at her with his sword. The horse reared in defiance as she fumbled to notch another arrow, nearly losing her balance. Ibin, twisting hard in his saddle, reached out with his mandolin and gave the soldier a fierce knock right in the face, sending him tumbling backwards over the banister, screaming to the bottom of the gorge.
"SheilaSheila!" Ibin cried. Looking over her shoulder as she reached to regain her reins, she saw the Redvest courier charging across the bridge, his lance now leveled at her. Quickly, she notched her arrow and pulled back the string as Ibin kicked away another attacker. She took aim, trying to find her target as her mount clopped unguided from side to side. She pulled the string taut, her bow creaking, waiting for the courier to close. But the rider crouched low in his saddle, keeping his body behind the horse's head and neck, and holding the lance steady with practiced assurance.
"Dammit!" she cried, her eyes stinging, unable to take the shot she wanted, the assailant now within twenty yards. "Dammit!" she repeated, loosing her arrow to fly deep into the horse's chest, killing the poor beast instantly. It crashed head first and flipped over onto its back, crushing the rider underneath, his lance skidding along the deck past Sheila and harmlessly coming to a stop under Ibin's horse.
"Let'sgo! Let'sgo! Let'sgo!" Ibin screamed at her, but already she was kicking her stirrups and slapping her mount's flank with her bow, muttering, "Not fair!"
By now, the remaining soldiers were scrambling to get out of the way, and giving full rein to their horses' fear, the travelers quickly reached a gallop, pounding off the bridge, up the steep road, and into the forest-covered hills. They slowed down after the second hill, but kept a fast pace for several minutes. After another half-mile or so, they drew to a halt and dismounted, to rest the horses and to tend to themselves. Sheila, Ashlord, and Ullin were unscathed. Robby had some broken skin and a nasty bruise forming on his right shin where an effort to kick had gone amiss and found the side of a Damar helmet. Billy had a minor cut on his arm, and Ibin had a short gash on his thigh where a sword thrust just missed. His horse, however, was bleeding profusely from the flank just where the blade had gone in.
"Oh, no!" Ibin cried when he saw it, putting his hands on the horse's wound in an effort to staunch the bleeding, heedless of his own blood running down his leg. All were still shaking with fighting-spirit and ire, so their injuries and pain had not yet had time to gain much of their attention. Sheila pulled Ibin away to look at his wound while Ullin examined the horse. Robby took Billy's arm to examine his cut.
"We have to assume that courier was riding ahead of a larger group," Ullin said, dowsing water on the animal's wound to cleanse it and bending for a closer look. "Easy, boy. Easy. Let me have a look."
"They will not stop at the bridge," Ashlord added, taking the wounded horse's reins and stroking its neck.
"But they would not have sent a courier if they were very close behind," Ullin replied. "My guess is they are at least a half-day's ride behind us."
"It just depends on how badly they want us, don't it, though?" Billy put in, as Robby put a bandage on his arm.
"This isn't as bad as it looks," Ullin said. "But he's no good for us. He can't be ridden, and shouldn't be made to carry a load. He shouldn't move around much."
"Ye mean to leave'm?" Billy asked.
"I'm afraid if we take him along," Ullin said, going over to the packs and rummaging, "the exertion will break the stitches. His wound might fester, and he could die."
"What stitches?"
"The ones I'm about to put in. Ibin, how are you?"
"OhI'm, I'm, I'mfine,Ullin. I'mfineandIdon'tneedanystitches."
"I'll be the judge of that," Sheila said. Ibin looked at her, wide-eyed with terror. "I'm joking, Ibin. I'm sorry. I was only joking. You don't need stitches, but this will sting. Ready?"
Ibin nodded and then Sheila smeared unction from a little tin on the wound. Ibin didn't wince and only watched blankly.
&
nbsp; Robby removed the saddle from the wounded horse and while Ashlord held the bridle and gently whispered to it, Ullin took the tin from Sheila and smeared some of its contents into the gash. Sheila finished tying off Ibin's bandage and came over to watch over Ullin's shoulder as he sewed up the horse's wound.
"You've had practice," she said.
"Alas, yes," he said. "But not too much with horses."
"Are these Damar lands?" asked Billy, looking around.
"They claim these lands, and they once had outposts on this side of the gorge. Whether those outposts are still manned, I cannot say," Ashlord shrugged. "I would think so, particularly since they prepare for war and may not wish to leave a flank unguarded. On the other hand, perhaps they do not fear any threat from the west. Still, this part of the Thunder Mountains, this side of the gorge, has always been sparsely settled. Even before the Damar."
"It does seem awfully quiet," Robby commented, remembering what Esildre had said about the place.
"Yes. Peculiar."
"But what I mean is," continued Billy, "d'ye think they're liable to chase us this far?"
"I guess that depends," said Ullin as he continued his stitching. "Like you said, on how much they want us. On the power of Toolant's influence. On how zealous the Damar commanders are. On their resources. And the captain wanted my Post bag, so they may fear that word may reach Duinnor before their plans are sprung."
"But we cannot assume," picked up Ashlord, "that the Damar merely want to stop us from reaching Duinnor with word about their treachery. After all, they must know that Lord Tallin, with his cunning and resources, would have dispatched several fast riders along different routes. No. Toolant may serve the Damar on the face of things, but he certainly uses them, just as he used the Tracians and just as he sought to use Tallinvale. I fear he serves some darker purpose."
"Maybe Lord Tallin's spies will be able to get rid of him," said Robby hopefully.
"Even so, the Damar ruler, Cartu, must now know of us. Though he may not guess our true purpose, he may see some value in capturing us. Perhaps as hostages. Toolant or no Toolant, we will not be out of the Damar reach until we cross the Missenflo and are well onto the plains beyond."
"Then let's get goin'!" cried Billy.
"What about this fellow?" Ashlord patted the neck of the wounded horse just as Ullin finished the last suture.
"We should probably let him go," Ullin suggested. "There is ample water and forage around here, and he should take it easy. We can divide the packs among us and saddle one of the packhorses for Ibin."
"But his wound will need tending," Sheila argued.
"If we take him, and if we must fly like we just did, his wound will reopen. He could die," Ullin explained. "He has a better chance on his own. Horses have good sense. He'll follow his nose and find food and water. Perhaps even a kind farmer in these parts will take him in."
Sheila nodded, giving the animal a pat. "I suppose you are right."
"We'll just have to trust in prov'dents, as me ol' man might say," added Billy.
It was not long afterwards that they had the packs redistributed and the sturdiest of the packhorses was saddled for Ibin. Ullin walked the wounded animal into the woods several yards to a clearing where there was still green forest grass for the horse to eat. There the Kingsman gently removed the bridle and coaxed the animal to stay. Robby couldn't help thinking the beast had a forlorn look in its big brown eyes as it watched them depart. But the horse did not try to follow and turned his head to the shoots growing at his feet.
Ashlord was looking at the animal when a flutter reached his ear, and, with a look of pleasant surprise, he saw Certina shooting around their party before landing on his shoulder, puffing his hair away from his ear with her wings.
"Well, hullo Certina!" Robby laughed.
"Yes, my dear! I am very happy to see you, too!" Ashlord said. He was beaming broadly, his eyes glistening with joy as he proudly looked at his companions. "Yes, yes. Of course, of course! Just let us move a bit farther down the road. We've had our adventures, too!"
Ullin grinned back at Ashlord as he climbed into his saddle, and with a nod from Ashlord, they set off.
The road wound between the mountains and was less used than any they had yet been on. In some low places, it was so overgrown that they had to go in single file, but in other places the way was wide and ancient paving stones were visible. They splashed through many shallow streams and crossed a few stone bridges that spanned narrow banks over white-churned water dashing down from the slopes and skipping noisily below them. These little streams and waterfalls, often hidden from view by the trees, could be heard from afar, their sound bouncing up and tumbling down the slopes. But those were the only sounds of the forest they heard. After several hours, the way began to climb back and forth along the broad shoulder of a ridge. The sky had become overcast, with low, brooding clouds, as they came onto a crossroads. They took the north-leading way and traveled the ridgeline for several miles until the way turned west and plunged back into the still forest. Robby and Ashlord led, with Billy just behind, towing the remaining packhorse in front of Ibin, who plucked his mandolin and let his horse follow those ahead of its own accord and good sense. Ullin had fallen back and rode beside Sheila, where the width of the way permitted.
"You did what you had to do," he said to her.
She only glanced at him, biting off a harsh remark.
"It wasn't the horse's fault that he was being made to charge me," she said.
"No. It wasn't. But what soldier is not compelled, by force or force of honor, to do the things we do?"
"I'm no soldier."
"Maybe not. But it is the way of war that servants suffer more in battle than the ones they faithfully serve. It has nothing to do with what anyone deserves in life."
"It should."
"Perhaps. Yet, I sometimes think it might be a poor place if we all got what we deserve. However that may be, if you could have prevented your own death or the death of your friends by any other means, I know you would have."
"It's just so unfair. I have killed many animals in the hunt. Never for the sport of it. And I have always given thanks to my quarry for giving their life and their sustenance to me. This is different. I killed men, back on the road from Tulith Attis, and later, when the Redvests attacked us at Passdale and along the road to Janhaven. It was clear to me, then, what I had to do, and I did it. Just as it was clear to me that I had to kill the horse. But now I hurt, inside, thinking of the waste. And not just the horse. I wonder about those men and their families. What they may have been like with their children. Things I never knew until I met Robby. Until I stayed with Ashlord and Frizella Bosk, and, later, with Robby's family. And even those you would not think of," she said, putting her hand on her pocket where she kept the small volume of poetry from Mr. Broadweed, "they have kind hearts, too."
They rode along silently for a few minutes, Ibin's strings and the clopping of the hooves oddly soothing in the otherwise silent wood.
"We cannot always do what we desire," Ullin said.
"And I suppose we do not always desire to do what we must," Sheila responded. "How trite that sounds!"
"Yet true," he said, looking at her. She looked back at him and her expression softened, and was reflected in Ullin's own.
Meanwhile, Certina grew more annoyed with Ashlord, until at last he relented and let her perch on his hand to relate her message from Raynor. While she did so, Ashlord let his horse follow Robby's so that he could keep his eyes upon hers. Raynor's message was brief:
Time rushes in upon itself, my friend. Surely what we thought would not happen for another age now comes to pass. There are many signs, from you and elsewhere. Ready yourself! If you can, go to your mountain to gather your faith and grow your strength. Here, there is much confusion, and the people are restless and worried. The courtiers vie for power, and the army is in disorder and is divided among the Houses. Truly this attack in the east is timed for th
is season of disharmony, for I have little hope that Duinnor will send aid before spring. I will speak to those that still trust me and who I still trust. Be quick! This kingdom falters, and all with it!
Of the other matter. Can it be true? Surely our enemies, too, suspect that it is so. Be safe! Be quick!
That was all that Raynor said, but it was enough, Ashlord's message had gotten through, and Raynor would do what he could. Certina had more to tell, in her way, but he needed some time to consider Raynor's words. What other signs did Raynor see?
Certina was not happy, though, with Ashlord's desire to meditate on Raynor's message. Impatient, she fluttered constantly around him, begging for his attention until he gently scolded her to leave him to his thoughts for just a while. She flew off in a huff, landing on the head of Ibin's horse, then off again, only to land on Billy's head. He froze in his saddle, rolling his eyes up to try to see the bird, not daring to say a word. After a long few moments, she flew back to Ashlord's shoulder, and Billy rubbed his head.
"Sharp-toed critter," he muttered.
She continued her agitations with a pouty air, almost as if her feelings had been hurt.
"I know, I know. It is a cruel thing to make you wait. But we have waited all our lives, have we not? And, as you have seen, much has taken place since you departed. Yes, yes," he said when she let him stroke her back, "I have been remiss. I have been anxious, too, as you, who know my heart better than any other, must surely know. Your safety was nearly all I thought of while you were gone. What would I do without you? I'd be lost. Yes, I would! I would, indeed, my dear. Now. Accept my apology, perch again on my hand, and show me that which you have so patiently waited to show me. Tell me all about the burden of your heart, my dear."
The Nature of a Curse (Volume 2 of the Year of the Red Door) Page 58
