Path of the Magi (Tales of Tiberius) (27 page)

The patrols continued.  Word was getting about and the roads were starting to clear.  They’d had a couple of successful patrols to the north and east.

As fall came, Lord Brandon called another council of war.  Lord Brandon had a map out and laid out his plan.  “Darras, I want you to check the northeast farms again.  I think most of the raiders have got the message but we’ll need to keep a presence there as the harvest comes in.  El Gato, you can take the coast road again.”

“What about the southeast road to Sherwood City?  When do we tackle that?”  Tiberius asked.

Lord Brandon frowned.  “I don’t know as we want to stir that up just now.” 

“Why not?”  Darras asked.  “That should be our main inland road.  How long are we going to let it sit in the hands of highwaymen?”

“Those men are better than what could be there,”  Brandon said pragmatically. 

“The only thing that should be there is a free and open road,” Tiberius said.

El Gato nodded agreement.  “We’ve sent one message already.  Let’s send another.  Darras takes the farms.  The magus and I can clear the road to Sherwood.

Lord Brandon wasn’t convinced.  “If we do this, it will mean extra patrols for everyone.  The goblins from the hills will have to be kept at bay.”

“We should form a third squadron,” Darras said.  “We can fight with less than we’ve been taking out.  You can give Hayes a brevet promotion.”

“We can get the Sherwood post to send some patrols north once the road is clear,”  El Gato said. 

“What about trying to recruit some of these highwaymen?”  Tiberius suggested.   

“That’s an excellent idea,” McNair said.  “If we are serious at last about ending this blight on the landscape it seems the humane thing to do.  I think some of these men could be saved if we could approach them.”

“I can’t recruit them directly into the Rangers,”  Lord Brandon protested.

“They could be useful,” El Gato proposed.  “They have knowledge of the region.”

“Maybe so, but I can’t take unproven men into an elite unit,” Lord Brandon said.

“What about as church guards?”  Darras suggested.  “We’re authorized a score or so of men for that.”

“Highwaymen as church guards?”  Brandon wondered.

“I can think of no better use of the office than as a means of redemption,” McNair said.

“Will they go for it though?”  Brandon asked.  “We’ve tried to talk to them before.  They’ll run before they talk.”

“Leave that to me.  I can get us close to their leader,” Tiberius said.

Lord Brandon gave it a long moments thought.  “We’ll try it,” he said at last.  “By God, I’m tired of sitting back on my heels.  It’s time we really went on the offensive.  Just don’t get carried away and go charging into the Black Hills.” 

“I wasn’t planning to,” El Gato said. 

“What’s in the hills?”  Tiberius asked.

“There are caves there with goblins.  At least one goblin witch queen too,” El Gato explained.

“All the dark folk pay tribute there one way or another.”  Darras said.

“She’ll have to be dealt with too,”  Tiberius said aloud. 

“Not on this patrol.  One thing at a time, mage.  Let’s deal with the highwaymen for now.  When they’re no more you can bet we will be dealing with the queen’s minions.”

The first stop was back at Henry’s Tavern, always the first stop on the road to Sherwood.  Starting at dawn with fresh horses, one could make Henry’s by lunchtime, though it was a day’s ride for most of the caravans. 

Tiberius and El Gato walked into the tavern together, with a few Rangers beside them.   

Henry came over and greeted them.  

“Hello again, Mr. Tiberius, Captain Gato.  What can I get for you gentlemen today?  I see you’ve joined with the Rangers proper, Mr. Tiberius.”

“We’ll take a bit of lunch, but first we want a word with one of your customers,”  El Gato explained.

Tiberius pointed to a man sitting by a back table. 

He tried to get up, but saw a Ranger had come in from the back door too.

“Ah, now, gentlemen, no need for any fighting here,” Henry said. 

“No indeed,” Tiberius answered.  “This gentleman will come along quietly.  He’s going to tell us where the highwaymen are, too.”

“You’re daft; I never heard of no highwaymen.  I ain’t telling you nothing neither.”

“You already have,” Tiberius said.  “They’re at the old mill creek; you know where that is?”

“I do,” Gato said.

The man leapt up.  “What?  How do you?  I never said!”  A Ranger bade him sit down. 

“You didn’t need to,” Tiberius explained.  “I took the liberty of reading your mind.  Don’t worry, we’ll try not to hurt anyone.  Did you say something about lunch, Henry?”

The next morning, the chief of the highwaymen walked nervously by the side of the road.  The early morning mist was heavy and he felt it pressing down upon him.   

“Slim, go see what’s up with Joe,” he said suddenly. 

“Why?  I don’t reckon he’s gone nowhere,” came the sullen reply.

“Go and do it, will you?  Something doesn’t feel right.”  Webly said, looking nervously out at the forest.     

“It’s too early.”  Slim sat down.  “I’ll do it in a minute.” 

He glared at Slim as he dropped down and was fast asleep in an instant.  He shook his head.  Wasn’t like Slim to be quite so lazy.  The air was oppressive though.  He walked over to kick Slim awake. 

“Here, you, I said you’re to go and…”

He didn’t finish the sentence as two men suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gripped his arms, and threw him against a tree.  A silver knife was at his throat.  The highwayman chief looked up and recognized that queer traveler he’d seen a couple of months back. 

“You owe me a hundred shillings,” he said.

The chief had been in tight spots before.  He tried to stay calm.  The other man looked like a Ranger captain.  El Gato took a step back and leveled a rapier at his throat. 

“A hundred shillings … I … I don’t quite see that governor.  I gave you fair passage after all.”  He felt the dagger tighten against his throat.  “It might have been a might steep, now that you mention it…”

“I want your soul as change,”  Tiberius said.

“My … my soul?”

  “I’m Captain Gato of the Rangers.  We’ve decided to relieve you of your duties patrolling this fine road,”  El Gato said.

“That’s very kind of you governor.  Very kind indeed.  About my soul...”  the frightened chief answered.

“In view of your past services to the Queen, we are giving you three choices.  Leave the country and don’t come back, stand trial for your crimes, or enlist in the Queen’s army.  Any of your band who enlist will receive pardon.  Any who choose to leave get twenty four hours head start,” El Gato explained. 

“On a personal note, you flee and I’ll have ninety five shillings back.  You can stand trial if you like.  You take the Queen’s shilling and I’ll call it even,”  Tiberius said.

“It’s a generous offer,”  the chief said with false bravado.  “Could I have the details on enlistment?”

Tiberius stepped back and let him breathe.  El Gato could skewer him at any time.   

“You call your men together,” El Gato said.  “They all have the same chance.  Bring five of your men in, I’ll make you a corporal.  Bring more in, we’ll see.  For now you’re in the church guards of Vonair.  Train hard and prove yourself, and you might become a Ranger.”

“Guess I’ll join up,” he said rubbing his throat.  “Been getting a little tired of this anyway.  I want to talk to my men though,” he said, eyeing the Rangers who seemed to keep appearing out of the crowd.  Some of his men were already in hand.  “I want fair passage to Tuck’s Landing for them what don’t enlist.  Might take them a bit more than a day.”

El Gato nodded.  “Fair enough, you have my word.  Call your men.  What’s your name?”

“Welby, Jack Welby.”

“You call me sir, Welby,”  El Gato said.

“Sir, yes, sir.”

“Call your men, Corporal.”

Corporal Welby walked over to Slim.  “Get up, Slim, we’re enlisting.” 

Slim blinked awake.  “What?  What are we doing that for?” he asked, trying to comprehend the sudden appearance of the Rangers.

“Welby’s first rule, Slim.  Always be on the winning team.” 

El Gato came over to Tiberius.  “We’ll get the ones worth having.  With them out of business this road should be open.  Henry will be happy.”

“Yes.  Not a bad start.  Not the end of our labors, I’m afraid,” Tiberius said.

“This close to the deep forest, we will always have work, my friend.  Rely upon that,” El Gato stated.

Tiberius gave a last look towards the Black Hills off in the distance.  These woods could never be called safe till that was dealt with.  Not this season, but someday soon.  There was something there all right.  Something powerful, dangerous and evil.  He wondered.  He’d never met a goblin queen, but maybe, just maybe, there was something more than that out there too.

Chapter IX

Patrols in the Forests

It was just about sundown when a sudden quick turn brought the Rangers around the corner of a hill, still in hot pursuit of the band of goblins.  Tiberius rode with them, keeping careful watch for their tricks.  It had been a long, busy summer for Tiberius.  The first season, he and the Rangers had concentrated on clearing the roads, making them safe for honest travelers.  The dark folk had responded by pulling back off the roads, figuring on getting back to raiding when the heat cooled down.  But Tiberius and the Rangers hadn’t let up this year.  Tales of success and Darras’ popularity in the capital had encouraged many of the best knights of the Stewardship to ask for positions with the Rangers.  Buoyed by the reinforcements and successes, the Rangers had spent the summer securing the roads and going after the camps of the enemy.  Tiberius and El Gato had led a raid against one of the last of the goblin camps in the north.  Most of the goblins had run for it. 

The goblins they were following now were a nasty lot, with a bit of skill in the dark arts.  Twice already they’d tried to throw the Rangers off, using their skill with dark magic to lay false trails.  Twice Tiberius had spotted it and kept the Rangers on track.  Welby’s knowledge of the country was also invaluable, as he’d put them on the trail in the first place.  The goblins tried another trick now, not with magic, but with blood and steel.  Out of places to run, they turned at last to fight.  They’d led the Rangers to the abode of a group of ogres.  The Rangers rounded a corner and were met with an ambush of rocks and arrows from goblin bows.  Tiberius was hit with three great stones as his horse rounded the corner. 

El Gato saw him fall, but he was busy.  He trampled a couple of goblins with his own horse, then stabbed another as he rode past.  If the goblins wanted to fight it out, so be it.  Ogres or no, the Rangers would win.  He signaled to the riders behind him to concentrate to on the goblins to his right.  They would eliminate them first, then swing round on the ogres.  They could out range those boulders with their bows.

He almost fell off his horse in surprise when he saw the lightning flash and strike down one of the ogres.  Tiberius was back up and fighting?  Welby was with him and put an arrow into another ogre.  Fire from the mage put the others off balance.  Between the flames and the Rangers' arrows the ogres were dropping fast. 

El Gato got close enough to hear Tiberius curse.  A second later El Gato saw a goblin arrow suddenly turn in mid flight to fly back and strike the creature who’d fired the arrow.  El Gato gave another order and Rangers' arrows joined the reversed goblin arrow in firing into the last group of goblins. 

A few moments later, El Gato rode up next to Tiberius.  He’d seen him looking much better.  His tunic was badly torn, his face looked badly bruised, and he was walking a with a slight limp.  He was examining an arrow that he’d apparently just given him a cut on the wrist where his gloves joined his armor.  Gato shuddered just to look at the arrow.  It was clearly the work of some dark goblin shaman.  It was inscribed with dark writing and written in what looked like blood.  Tiberius gave out an un-characteristically vehement oath as he threw down the arrow. The black metal of the tip smoldered slightly in the falling sunlight.

“I hate those things,” Tiberius exclaimed, as he examined the wound.

“You’ve seen them before?”  Gato asked.

Tiberius nodded.  “They are trying to kill me.  What else is new?” he said sarcastically.  “I’m gaining a reputation, it seems.  That’s a little calling card from the local goblin witch queen. She’s doing a nice little trade in weapons cursed with dark magic intended to kill me.  I look forward to the day when I am able to return her hospitality in kind.” 

“Is it poisoned?  That’s just a scratch,”  El Gato said. 

“It’s not supposed to get though my defenses at all,”  Tiberius said irritably.  “It’s poisoned, naturally, but I have an antidote.”  Carefully he took off his armored shirt, so as to better examine his wrist.  The arrow had slid up his armor and given him a small cut, and under his armor he was badly bruised.  El Gato marveled, not so much at seeing the bruises, but at seeing only bruises.  The boulders that hit him should have crushed his chest like an eggshell. 

“You took enough damage to kill half a dozen men and you’re barely hurt,” El Gato said.  “I’d say your defenses are working.”

“They’re good, but they aren’t good enough,”  Tiberius said.  “It will get worse, and I’m going to have to get better if I want to stay alive.  Worst part was I twisted my ankle when I got knocked off my horse.  I’ll be ok in the morning.” 

Tiberius put some sort of poultice on the poisoned wound.  He winced and the wound smoked as the medicines touched it.  There was barely a line left when he removed the poultice.  Throwing his armored shirt back on, he gripped his staff and looked around. 

“That will keep.  Who else is hurt?”  he asked. 

They brought the wounded over to Tiberius, who was able to treat their injuries.  This had been a hard fight.  They’d lost two men.  El Gato was sure it was three, but Tiberius went over to one of the ‘dead’ and was able to resuscitate him somehow.

“Have a look at this, sir,” Welby said, coming up to El Gato.  Welby put a handful of pearls into El Gato’s hands. 

“Where did you get this?”  El Gato asked.

“This is the ogres' lair.  Looks like they’ve been in business for awhile.  We might have a spot of prize money coming.”

“It was hard won, but yes, we’ll get our pay at least,”  El Gato said.

“I’d have gone straight sooner if I’d known it was going to pay this well,” Sergeant Welby said, smiling.

“I saw you in the fight.  You did well.  I’ll see you get your promotion,”  El Gato said.

“Thank you, sir.”

The Rangers set up camp upwind of the funeral pyre for the monsters.  Someone managed to shoot a couple of the wild pigs that frequented the region.  Dinner was spit roasted pork cooked over a hickory fire.  It was served with baked beans, pan fried biscuits, and strong coffee, simple but tasty fare.  The camp was in a good mood despite their losses.  Everywhere goblins, bogies, and the rest of the raiders and dark folk were running for their lives before the Rangers these days.  They had a real sense that they were accomplishing something.  Farmers weren’t so fearful in the region now, and traders were more often seen on the roads. 

Word was getting out.  Other units of the Stewardship were taking an interest.  Stephan, a young officer with the Third Calvary out of Walsingham had led a couple of raids, and the legion posted down by Sherwood City had made their own sorties.  If this kept up, the goblin queen would be practically under siege next year.  

Next morning, Tiberius looked much better.  Remarkably so, El Gato thought.  He was studying some scroll which he threw down in disgust as El Gato approached with a strong cup of tea. 

El Gato glanced down at the scroll.  “The mysteries not unfolding this morning?”

Tiberius took a sip of tea.  “I need to figure out a way to improve my defenses.  There just isn’t a lot of room for improvement in Dallen’s shield spell.”

El Gato shook his head, laughing.  “My friend, any other man who’d taken the hits you took yesterday would have been dead three times over.  You know I never met Dallen, but I've heard of him.  I served under General Galloway before he retired.  He told a lot of stories about Mr. Dallen.  Whatever shield spell he was using kept him alive a long time.”

“It's a good spell; I grant you,” Tiberius said.  “But you see how things are going.  They’re making an effort to kill me and it’s going to get worse, not better, next season.  Before that happens I want to take my own game up a notch.  I’m not having trouble on offense, but I think my defenses could be improved.  There are other defenses I can try.  I’m just not sure what the best defense really is.”

“Can you only do one?”  El Gato said, thoughtfully.  A soldier brought them some oatcakes and bacon. 

“No,” he answered, contemplating the idea.  “Spells can interfere with each other, but not necessarily. Why?”

“I don’t know anything about magic, but I understand the art of defense.  Take it from an old soldier.  The best defense is not one defense, but layers of defense that work together.  Here, grab your staff for a moment and give me a thrust.”  They stood up and walked to a clearing.  Tiberius gave a jab and El Gato parried it aside.  “That’s a basic parry, but it is not the only defense I use.  Try again.” 

Tiberius did so.  This time, El Gato backed away.  “Foot work is also defensive.  If those fail there is my armor.  But even this is not one defense.  See how I have chain mail over padding?  Each does it’s job in turn.  They work together to defend a man.  Footwork, parries, chain mail, leather padding, distraction, even just being aware of where your enemy is and the composition of the battlefield, all these are defenses.  If I were a wizard I would not rely upon one spell, but a weave of spells to defend me.  If such a thing is possible.”

“It is,” Tiberius answered, looking thoughtful.  “You’re right, I shouldn’t be trying to find one perfect defense.  There is no such thing.  I need to be working on ways to layer defensive spells together.  It’s better to find ways to link imperfect defenses together.  There is nothing wrong with Dallen’s shield.  What I need to find are spells that complement each other.  Just like you wear a surcoat to protect you from the heat of the day, over chain which can thwart a cut, over padding which protects against crushing blows.  I wonder what would be best?  I need to speak with Singh and Dallen.”

“I’m still not sure your defenses really need improvement my friend.  You work too hard maybe?”  El Gato said.

“There are worse things in the world than ogres,” Tiberius answered.