Black Kerthon's Doom (33 page)

"What can I do to help you?" Macelan asked Daura.

"Stay close and quiet. I do not need your lighthearted remarks just now. Just stay by my side."

They waited for nightfall and ate the raspberries Serada and Mira gathered. It was a warm night that was unusual for the area. The night was clear and millions of stars filled the sky and Macelan found their twinkling to be soothing, on a par with his beloved sea.

Two hours later Brice returned.

"I have a place for us. It is a barn behind the tavern. Cort's the tavern owner and he's a friend of mine. The only one besides Cort who uses the barn is his son, Jeb. The customers do not bed down their own horses."

"Why is that?" asked Serada.

"Because Cort doesn't want them to. Now, grab your gear. We must hurry."

"We wait all day just so we can hurry at night," muttered Macelan.

"Macelan!" exclaimed Daura.

"You are off to a bad start," said Mira.

He led them through the rocky terrain to a narrow passage between two cliffs.

When the passage widened they saw a row of shacks built close together and pack mules tied to a post outside each shack. Brice led them around the shacks to the tavern, a large long windowless shack that leaned to the east but was still on its foundation.

"Too many brawls," said Brice to Serada's unspoken question.

"Is every building a shack?" asked Serada. "I thought Chraset came from Stormridge."

"He did," said Brice. "Those shacks belong to hunters. They have no need for anything finer. North of here, there are some larger homes and Chraset's home as well. In Nantitet, it would rate little notice but in Stormridge, it is a palace. Perhaps in a day or so I could get word to Chraset's father that we are here."

"His father?"

"Yes. A fine old gentleman. And a good deal sharper than he would like everyone to believe. He still rules Stormridge but the rogue bands make it difficult. And the hunters are little help. Still, he manages it well. Chraset does better, but he has been gone for a long time."

"Do you think Chraset will return here?" asked Serada.

"It's possible he escaped from Moorld. But there has been no news of him recently and no messages have reached his father. Cort's son Jeb also delivers the mail in Stormridge."

They came to the barn, Brice slid the door open, and they went inside. It was dimly lit by a lantern in one corner where food and drink had been laid out. They sat down at once and began eating. Afterward, they went to sleep.

Macelan and Daura slept on dry straw and he could not find a comfortable position and the straw itched and he began to sweat. Daura slept soundly.

Macelan woke with a start. There was a man standing over him. Macelan jumped up and grabbed the man by the neck.

"Wait!" cried Brice. "That's Jeb."

Macelan stopped.

"What were you doing?" asked Macelan.

"I was just looking at the pretty woman," he spoke slowly, weighing each word. "I'd never seen anyone like her."

Macelan looked at Brice who nodded that Jeb was reliable. Macelan let go of Jeb and moved to Brice.

"What about him?"

"He's harmless. A little slow in the head but a good friend to have. Extremely loyal and strong as you would have soon found out. He has brought us breakfast. Wake the others. We should eat now and then plan our next move. Not much moves in Stormridge at this hour."

After they had eaten, Brice explained his plan.

"I think we should contact Laetres, Chraset's father. We would know where there would be danger to us and where we might safely rest for a couple months."

"Months?" said Serada.

"Yes. At least. There must be no trace of us and our trail should remain cold. We don't know who's running the Empire and we don't know what happened to Kerthon."

"And don't forget Scithers," added Mira.

"Yes. A very good point. We must take the time to evaluate the threats to us."

"Can't we just forget the rebellion," asked Macelan.

"Perhaps," said Mira. "But the High King won't forget about us."

"And the same for Scithers," said Brice.

"I will take Macelan and contact Laetres. Daura, you should stay behind. Your hair color is not common here. We do not want to be noticed yet. As Jeb has demonstrated you are far too attractive not to be noticed, especially in Stormridge."

"What about us?" asked Serada.

"Stay here too. There is nothing to see in this town and you will be noticed. I have been here before and am not unknown to the people here. And I have visited Laetres many times. There will be no risk in this task. Stay here and rest. We may have to move quickly once we return."

Brice and Macelan left the stable and walked up the main street. It was a dirt road; the dried mud still held the deep grooves wagons had dug the week before. There were few men in the street and a few more sitting in front of the stores. They watched Brice and Macelan without comment and one nodded toward the big man who acknowledged the greeting.

At the end of the merchant row, the buildings began to improve their appearance and the spaces between them became greater. They came to a high stone wall which braced an iron fence with a shield and family arms displayed.

"This is it," said Brice. He pushed the gate open and a guard stepped out of nowhere.

"I know you," said the guard.

"I am Brice and this is Macelan."

"Ah, yes. Brice. Have you news of Chraset?"

"Not of late. But Laetres should hear my news soon." He looked down at the guard.

"Of course. Go on ahead. You know the way."

The drive was not short and the grounds were beautiful. The harsh winter could not beat down the spring and summer growth that sped freely along the grounds.

"Laetres would rather tend his garden than anything else. But he has his duties. Who among us has the chance to do what his heart desires most?"

The large door was open when they reached the house and a servant beckoned them in. Brice led Macelan inside to a small study lined with books. The fireplace was lit although it had been a warm day. By the fire, was a man seated in a chair and covered by a blanket. The weathered face peered up at his guests.

"Brice! It has been too long," said Laetres. "How are you?"

"Just fine. I would like to introduce a friend. This is Macelan."

Laetres looked at Macelan and nodded.

"Good. Good. Have you seen Chraset?" he asked Brice.

"Yes. Not too long ago."

"Is he here?" asked Laetres.

"Not to my knowledge. But he should be here soon."

"Good. I do not have a great deal of time and when I catch a cold like this one, I want my son close by. One never knows when he may breathe his last. Why are you here?"

"My friends and I need a place to hide."

"That can be arranged. Where's Gareth?"

"We think he's dead."

"No!"

"Macelan saw the soldiers catch him. We have no reason to be optimistic."

Laetres turned to Macelan.

"You are quite sure? No chance of error?"

"Well, I don't know. I saw the soldiers catch him."

"So Brice said. But did you see them kill him?"

"No. Not the actual killing stroke."

"Then he may be alive."

"But we can't count on that," said Brice.

"Can't we? What about his power?" asked Laetres.

"He'd vowed never to use it."

"Did he vow with his life in immediate peril? I think not. Do not count Gareth out. He just may be out there somewhere. And if he did use his power, then we must be ready to help him escape the fate of his father and of all those who tried before him."

"What can we do?" asked Brice.

"I'll have to think on that. But first I shall send my steward with you and she shall arrange housing for you. How many?"

"Five."

"Five? Is that all that is left? Just five? This is a sadder day than I had envisioned." He covered his face his thin hands, then looked up. "Go. Let me pray for the souls who are no longer among us." He rang a bell and a small woman walked out from a doorway.

"I am Althan. Please come with me."

She turned and walked. Brice and Macelan had to move quickly to catch her. She led them down a long corridor to a side entrance. She did not look back to see if they followed her. She crossed a small courtyard to a storage shed and opened the door. She waited for them.

The shed was roomy and had a stack of blankets in one corner and dried meat in the other. Brice walked in, looked around, and nodded his head.

"This will do fine."

"Have everyone here after dark," said Althan. "Do not bring them all here in daylight. There are a few bands of hunters that have not been here before. We are watching them but we do not have the manpower to watch them all. Be wary and keep safe." She walked back to the house.

The stable was empty when they returned. No one came out to see them and they found all the gear was intact.

"I don't understand," said Brice. "We told them to stay put. What happened?"

"Would Cort have invited them in for a drink?"

"Doubtful. But I will check on it. Now stay here. Wait for me no matter what. We can't have everyone wandering."

Brice ran to the tavern and slipped inside the back door. Macelan sat down, found some stale bread, and ate it. Shortly after, Brice returned.

"Cort doesn't know what happened. Jeb seems to be missing too. Cort has sent some men to find out what they can and they will return at sundown. We only have a few minutes to wait."

It was not long and Cort came with the news. Some of the hunters who were unknown in Stormridge had come to the stable to fetch their own horses. Jeb tried to stop them and he was struck down. Daura saw the men coming and tried to run, but they saw her, chased her, and caught her. Of Serada and Mira, there was no word. Jeb was found in the garbage bin a little bruised but he would live.

"Is there a trail you can follow?" asked Macelan.

"There is," said Brice. "But the hunters were heavily armed. We must be prepared to fight. It may take some time to organize a rescue party."

"Time? How do you know if Daura has the time to wait for us?"

"We don't know. And that's the problem."

"Lead me to the hunters and I will follow them until the rescue party can catch up. I will be sure no harm comes to Daura."

"How can you do that?"

"Sorcery," said Macelan.

"I had forgotten," said Brice. "Will it be enough?"

"It's all I have," said Macelan.

"Do you really think so?"

Chraset rode hard and stopped only briefly for water and feed for his horse. He ate as he rode.

The miles dropped away quickly despite the detours he was forced to make because of the presence of soldiers. He was fortunate that he did not encounter them until he drew near to Rhath with the leagues of barren plain behind him. He turned eastward at Rhath and followed the edge of the forest to the old road which plowed through the forest to Stormridge.

As he neared his home, he rode faster. He had a foreboding of what he might find in Stormridge. Every traveler or hunter he had met on the road spoke of renegades and hunters who no longer hunted game but stole and killed at their whim. It was too much for Chraset to think of his aged father dealing with the ruffians alone.

He reached Stormridge in the early hours and rode directly to his father. The guards greeted him at the gate and told him his father was well. Chraset relaxed and entered the house.

Laetres had received news of his son's arrival and was waiting for him near the fireplace.

"Father! It is good to see you." He embraced his aged father. They looked at each other and saw deeply in each other's eyes.

"You have come in time. Your friends have come here with Brice."

"Brice! That is good news."

"But worse follows. Daura was kidnapped by a band of hunters and Brice is leading a rescue party in the north mountains. It was a large group of hunters and they were heavily armed. No one can say from where they hail."

"Who else is with Brice?" Chraset felt this was the foreboding he had experienced.

"Macelan went first to follow the hunters. He was insistent and finally persuaded Brice to send him in the right direction. Macelan said he could not track a moose in snow. Some hunter he is. I don't know what he can do alone."

"Quite a bit." Chraset remembered the death of Parean.

"Well, two others are missing," said Laetres, after his son neglected to elaborate. "Mira and another man whose name I cannot recall."

"Serada, perhaps?"

"I do not know. But it is not known if they were taken too or if they followed on their own."

"What about Gareth?"

His father did not look at him.

"I'm afraid your friends say he is dead. But no one saw him actually die."

"I see. I shall hope they were wrong."

"As do I."

Chraset watched his father and made his decision.

"I will eat and then I shall follow Brice. How many men did he take?"

"Perhaps twenty. The kidnapper's band was large but their numbers were not recalled. Brice has half a day lead on you."

Chraset smiled at the thought of hunting in his mountains again. He had spent too many years helping Gareth and too many years away from his home. He dashed off to the kitchen.

In a half hour, he was ready. He talked to Laetres once more and set off in pursuit of Brice. The trail was narrow and rose steeply into the mountains. It was a newer trail and Chraset did not remember using it before. But it had been years since he had been in these woods. The trees were tall and slender and the rocky ground brought brief images of past journeys.

He walked quickly, he did not know how far ahead Brice was and it was impossible to know where the hunters had come from. There were no settlements within a week's worth of travel and even those outposts of civilization would not tolerate kidnapping.

Far to the north, there were nomadic tribes that traded with Stormridge's most daring hunters. These tribes were hostile to each other and it was dangerous to deal with more than one tribe. If the kidnappers were planning to deal with them, there would be no law to inhibit the nomads from buying Daura.