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Authors: David Wells

Tags: #Epic, #Fantasy, #General, #Fiction

Thinblade (37 page)

BOOK: Thinblade
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“Lieutenant, you and your two best trackers will come with me while the rest of your men get horses for all of us and bring them around to the side courtyard.” Alexander issued his commands with deliberate calm that masked his boiling rage, then turned and strode off toward the scene of the crime.

Lieutenant Cross started barking orders and was quickly following a step behind and to the right of Alexander with another two men in tow.

Alexander stopped short of the area in front of the door. “This is where they came out. I found her shoe right over there. I believe the young man was killed right there.” Alexander pointed to the blood in the dirt. “Lieutenant, have your trackers examine the area and tell me what else they see.”

The lieutenant nodded to the two men and they moved into the area very carefully, slowly, and deliberately so as not to disturb any tracks that might be there. One went inside while the other looked carefully at the ground in the surrounding area. Only a minute later, the two returned to the lieutenant and Alexander with their report.

“Lord Alexander, you say you and Erik came out of this door and found Isabel’s shoe. Are these your tracks here?” The Ranger tracker pointed to the deep boot prints from Alexander and Erik.

Alexander nodded.

They looked at each other before one spoke. “There were two men here. One struggled briefly with the dead man in the storage room, killed him there where you thought, and then dragged him inside to conceal his body. Isabel was unconscious, loaded into a wagon or cart and taken in that direction. Presuming they remained in the cart and traveled all night, they are likely several miles ahead of us.” He looked up at the sky. “Looks like a clear day ahead, so we should be able to track them well enough.” The other nodded to confirm the report.

Moments later a herd of horses came around the corner bearing a platoon of angry Rangers bristling with spears, swords, and bows. Four men in the lead had the reins of an extra horse each. Alexander recognized his fine white mare with the brown splotch on its forehead and was pleased to see his bow and quiver were strapped to his saddle.

All four mounted up. Alexander raised his voice over the sound of anxious horses. “The trackers will take the lead. Do not get ahead of them and destroy the trail.”

Everyone in the platoon nodded, some even looked a bit offended at the rather obvious command. Alexander didn’t care.

They rode more slowly than Alexander wanted to. He was seething with anger and fighting to keep the unthinkable from overtaking his reason. The trackers were careful and thorough. On some stretches of road they were able to move quickly but on others they slowed to a crawl. Not an hour from the edge of town, they came to an intersection where three roads came together to form one larger road leading into the heart of Glen Morillian. The trackers stopped and dismounted. They spent several minutes going over the ground, even getting down on all fours and combing slowly through the dry dirt before agreeing on the road to take.

Half an hour later they came to a wide, shallow place in a small stream that served as a ford for road traffic. There was a small copse of trees hugging the opposite bank. The platoon let their horses drink from the crystal-clear water while the trackers dismounted on the far side. This time they didn’t need to crawl but simply walked, heads down, right off the side of the road before stopping abruptly and pointing toward the stand of hardwoods that grew up along that section of the mountain stream.

Lieutenant Cross issued orders to his men with hand signals that they clearly understood perfectly. The platoon broke into four smaller units and spread out to approach the grove from several angles at once. When they entered the trees, they converged on a finely made four-wheeled cart. With practiced precision, the Rangers surrounded and enclosed the enemy position, half approaching with spears at the ready while the other half remained at range with arrows nocked.

The lead force called out to the lieutenant and Alexander, “It’s empty. Looks like it’s been abandoned.”

Alexander dismounted, handing the reins of his horse to the nearest Ranger, and vaulted into the back of the cart. He found a blanket and some straw in the bed. His heart skipped a beat when he found a strip of cloth from Isabel’s dress. She was leaving breadcrumbs. At the very least, she was alive when the cart was abandoned.

“Lieutenant, she was here. Search the area.” He held up the little strip of cloth from her dress. With swift precision, the Rangers fanned out and did a quick but thorough search of the surrounding woods.

Within minutes, a Ranger called out from the bank of the stream, “Here, they brought her here.”

Alexander, the lieutenant, and several others made their way to the bank.

The Ranger held up another little strip of cloth. “Looks like two men brought her here,” he pointed to some tracks in the damp dirt. “They struggled and she went down here,” he pointed out the place where Isabel had hit the ground. “Then they loaded her into a boat and cast off,” he pointed to the overturned stones in the shallows along the bank and the indentation left in the soggy ground where the boat had been moored.

“This was planned,” Alexander muttered to himself.

Lieutenant Cross agreed, “Whoever did this thought it through pretty carefully.”

“Where does this stream lead?” Alexander asked.

The lieutenant looked in the direction the stream was flowing and frowned for a moment before he answered, “I believe it leads into the estates of Duke Covington.”

Alexander tried to reason it out. Who would want to take Isabel and why? The only name that came to mind was Truss, but her abductors had clearly taken her downstream toward Covington’s lands. It didn’t make sense. When Alexander had looked at the nobles with his second sight, Covington was the most trustworthy.

“Lieutenant, search the area again. Make sure we haven’t missed anything.”

Cross issued orders to his men without hesitation. He was thorough, professional, and clearly had the respect and loyalty of his men. Alexander decided he liked him.

Minutes later they reported back. They’d found the horse that had drawn the cart wandering in the fields nearby and there were no other tracks. Isabel had been taken downstream in a small boat.

“Lieutenant, send a rider back to the palace to report to Warden Alaric, then split your force in half. I’ll take one group and we’ll work our way down this side of the stream while you work down the other side.”

Again the lieutenant nodded to Alexander and issued his orders with precision and unmistakable command authority. His men obeyed without question.

Moving down the bank of the stream was slow going. The ground was uneven and muddy in many places and Alexander wanted to be sure that they didn’t miss anything. He let the tracker set the pace and relied on his expertise to find where the abductors had come ashore. Close to noon, they came to a spot where the stream flowed into a wooded area, which slowed their progress even further. The trees were thick along the bank and the undergrowth hampered the horses. Alexander was becoming worried that they would lose the trail, when they came to a clearing where a horse trail crossed the stream along a little wooden bridge constructed of two logs lined on top with rough-cut boards.

Caught under the bridge was a simple little boat. It looked like the people who’d abducted Isabel had let the boat loose in the stream but neglected to ensure that it made it under the low bridge. The Ranger trackers made a quick search of the area. They quickly called Alexander and Lieutenant Cross over to a burned-out campfire.

“There was a single man waiting here with a team of four horses. The boat was brought ashore there,” the tracker pointed to a spot on the bank of the little mountain stream. “Two sets of tracks lead here. One set is much deeper than the other so we believe one of the men was carrying Lady Isabel. He put her down here,” he indicated an area of the grass that was crushed. “If you look closely you can see the print of a woman’s bare foot.” He squatted down with Alexander and the lieutenant and pointed out the faint impression Isabel had made on a soft place in the ground.

“From here she was walked by two men, one on each side, to here, where she mounted a horse. Looks like all four left that way along the trail,” the tracker pointed into the trees.

“Good work. Take the lead and stay sharp,” Alexander commanded as he returned to his horse.

They moved on into the woods along the narrow horse path. The trail wound around trees and was narrow enough that they rode single file. Not an hour later they emerged from the woods onto a well-traveled road. It was wide, travel-worn, and formed of hard packed dirt. The trackers spent nearly half an hour searching the road for any indication of which direction Isabel and her abductors had gone but found nothing among all the other horse and wagon tracks. As they searched, Alexander felt cold dread settling into the pit of his stomach. After the first few minutes, he knew they wouldn’t find anything but he let them search without interruption in the hope that he was wrong.

“Lieutenant, where does this road lead?” he asked.

“That way takes us back to the road we were on when we stopped at the stream and then on to an intersection with another major road. That way takes us into Covington’s estate,” Lieutenant Cross said.

When Alexander could hold still no longer, he stopped the trackers and asked for their report. It was clear that they were miserable at having to tell him they’d lost the trail. Alexander fought quietly to maintain his hold on sanity and thought for a moment that he would fail right there in the middle of the road. The unthinkable closed in on him. He felt helpless and angry all at once. When he saw the telltale dust column of approaching riders, he calmed his emotions and reminded himself to be driven by emotion but ruled by reason. He told himself he would do all it took to find Isabel but that he must use reason and clear thought to accomplish his goals.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 31

 

 

 

 

 

He didn’t have to wait long for the galloping horses to reach them. It was Hanlon, Emily, Anatoly, Abigail, and Erik, followed by a dozen or so Rangers. Alexander didn’t know how he was going to tell them that he’d lost Isabel’s trail. When they charged up, Hanlon spoke first.

“Lord Alexander, Isabel has been taken by Truss. He’s offering her safe return in exchange for you.” He reined in his horse beside Alexander, fished around inside his cloak and produced a letter, which he handed to Alexander.

Alexander looked hard at the Warden for a moment before unfolding the parchment. “You will meet my challenge by dusk three days hence on Flat Top Rock or Isabel dies. You will come alone or Isabel dies. Rexius Truss.”

Alexander felt a flash of hot anger wash through him. The greasy little bastard had taken Isabel by force. She rejected him so he abducted her. A new unthinkable thought tried to invade his sanity but he shoved it away. He needed to think.

“Who delivered this letter?” he demanded.

Hanlon looked to Erik, whose face contorted in misery. “It was on her pillow. I didn’t look because her bed was still made.” He hung his head. “I thought she was with you, so I rushed out without seeing it.”

Alexander nudged his horse up alongside Erik’s and put his hand on the man’s shoulder. Erik looked up with desolation in his eyes. Alexander leaned in so no one else could hear him. “I have a little sister too, Erik. I understand.”

Erik nodded his thanks but the haunted look didn’t leave his eyes.

Alexander turned to Hanlon. The Forest Warden’s eyes were fraught with worry but also bottled rage. “It’s about two days’ ride to Flat Top Rock from the palace, right?”

“It is, but,” Hanlon took a deep breath before speaking again, “you can’t go.”

Emily sobbed. She was dressed in Ranger’s riding gear and wore tear streaks down her face in stripes through the travel dust.

Alexander felt his anger rise a notch in his belly. “What do you mean?” There was a hard edge to his voice.

Hanlon took another deep breath and sighed with anguish. When he spoke in his low, rumbling voice, Alexander could hear the sorrow of loss. “You cannot be risked, not even for my only daughter.”

Emily fought, unsuccessfully, to hold back another sob.

Alexander looked at him hard. His words were deadly calm. “Warden Alaric, I’m going and the only way you will stop me is by killing me yourself.”

The Rangers all stiffened. Hanlon looked like a man on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

Anatoly sidled up gently on his big chestnut mare. “You know this is a trap, right?” he asked Alexander.

Alexander looked at the big man-at-arms. Anatoly’s eyes conveyed more sympathy than Alexander had expected.

He nodded slowly. “I can’t just do nothing and let Isabel die. Her best chance, her only chance, is if I go and face Truss.”

Erik shook his head, “You won’t be facing just Truss. His master-at-arms is a very dangerous swordsman. I’ve seen him fight. He’ll kill you, Alexander.”

Alexander felt trapped. He had to do something but he had no way of knowing what he would be riding into. But to do nothing was to surrender to the unthinkable. He wasn’t about to do that.

BOOK: Thinblade
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