“There is something else. One of my lieutenants used to be the son of a tavern keeper. He says that there is a whole spy network that used to be in the service of the Shadow Reaper.” Balinor was interrupted by a snort from Illiad.
“The Asgare, famed assassin now dead. A lot of good it did that villain.” Illiad scowled fiercely for a moment.
“He isn’t so dead any more. Three quarters of the post at The Forks are out in the western midlands searching for him.”
“He will probably want his spy network back. Didn’t he used to work for Reigns? Why does he even need his own spy network?” Illiad was still scowling at the mention of the Asgare.
“He was more of a freelancer that did jobs for Reigns in the past. I also heard that Reigns tried to have him killed ensuring a long lasting grudge. We might be able to recruit him to our cause. If we are lucky, he will rid us of Reigns without our intervention.”
“I don’t see how we could trust him. He once tried to kill me. I was feeling better so I went out riding at Reign’s suggestion and the man appeared next to me and held a sword to my throat before being scared off. I will never forget that sword. Most beautiful sword I have ever seen. Amazing the things that stick out in your mind.”
“At Reign’s suggestion? From what I know of the Asgare, if he wanted you dead we wouldn’t be talking now.” Balinor hoped he hadn’t overstepped when Illiad gave him a rueful glance.
“I put that much together years ago. If you feel it is for the best make contact but be careful. This is my daughter’s life we are dealing with.” With that the conversation was cut short by the sounds of footsteps echoing through the halls. The tapestry had only just stopped swaying when the chamberlain entered with a plate of food.
Chapter Seventeen
Cero only had to walk along the river half a day before the scenery began to shift. The land became wild and the eternal muck and mud began to give way to drier ground. By afternoon the swamps were left behind much to Cero’s joy. The going was made easier by this transition. The river that he was supposed to follow became wide and slow flowing. Only the occasional stream filtered in once the swamp was gone. There was a wider tributary that took the other half of the day to find a way over.
The tributary was another drain from the swamp so Cero wanted to avoid entering the putrid waters if at all possible. His wishes were granted when he followed the sluggish water upstream a ways to where it forked. Here some people long ago had placed large stones across the water. One could hop from one to the next without getting wet. Coming down the tributary Cero was almost to the river when he heard voices. Dropping to his stomach he removed the pack and wormed his way through the brush until he was near enough to know he had narrowly avoided blundering into a group of the people he had been trying to avoid.
Assembled below was a patrol of soldiers. What Cero had overheard and taken as a warning was a joke that had been taken rather well. The soldiers were still guffawing loudly. From Cero’s vantage point he was able to see that the soldiers were in a clearing along a road. Deciding that it was not safe to follow the river any longer he returned to his pack and carefully made his way to a safe distance from the soldiers and crossed the road. Now that the road was between him and the river he maintained a healthy distance.
The going was harder due to the rough country but evening had only just fallen when he discovered a clear flowing stream. Refilling his water and replacing the stale water with fresh he found a clump of brush. Fearing the smoke and light from a fire he chose instead to eat a piece of the provisions that had survived the swamp accident. With his pack as a pillow and the stars to count Cero fell asleep quickly.
Morning came and Cero was up and ready to go. There was a bank of fog hanging over the outskirts of the Draeld but Cero was just beyond in the sunlight. The river was easy to locate because thin wispy strands of fog floated above it. Taking his bearings Cero set out. When his stomach rumbled he finished off the piece of cheese he had started the previous night. After finishing the cheese he pulled out his bow and kept an eye out for any game that he might use to supplement his provisions with.
Hours passed before Cero saw anything. The rabbit made the fateful mistake of pausing to nibble a tender grass stem giving Cero ample opportunity to make his shot. It swung at his side for the rest of the day. That evening Cero moved farther away from the river and found a nice hollow. The smoke from a fire would be hard to make out with the light breeze from the inland going out towards the open waters. The hollow was deep enough that one would have to be standing on its rim in order to see the light. Feeling comparatively safe Cero indulged in a hot meal. It is amazing how a nice hot meal can take the miles off a day.
The next day when Cero made camp it was decidedly warmer and the terrain had once again shifted. Now sand was the predominant element. Rock outcroppings blasted by wind borne sand often had fantastic sculptures and balancing boulders. Another hollow was found for the night. During the night Cero heard a trickling sound and found that a spring had formed a pool around the corner. Expecting that this was the last source of fresh water for a while he filled up everything that could hold water. His pack was heavier for the precaution but his mind was more at rest knowing that he had ample water with which to enter the desert.
Mid-day had Cero standing beside the last large evidence of solid ground that could be seen. It was now that he understood the term sand sea. As far as the eye could see nothing but sand marred the horizon. Long waves of sand rippled together into one vast reddish gold ocean of sand. Only the green strip along the river was of a different color. By the time night arrived Cero was hot and sweaty. Sand was sticking to every patch of moist skin and the spring sun had taken on an intensity that was seldom seen in Cero’s home valley in the Garoche Highlands.
Cero only paused long enough to eat a few bites of food before moving on in the starlit night. He was able to see well enough and if the sand vipers that Peren had warned about behaved like the swamp vipers then there was little chance of being harmed. Other than scorpions and snakes there was nothing but sand to step on. Fortunately with the departure of the sun the breeze switched directions and began blowing inland. It was still dry but it was cool. Cero continued most of the night until he heard a dull roar in the distance.
Dropping to the ground Cero was about to fall asleep when he glanced at the dark swath of vegetation that lined the river and saw a glimmer of light. Soft fragments of conversation drifted over the sand to his ears. Wide awake now Cero realized that he stood out in the sand like a sore thumb. His darker clothes contrasted with the light sand in the starlight. Dragging himself to his feet he climbed the sand dune he was laying against and dropped down the other side. Exhaustion won out over further precautions and Cero fell asleep.
When morning arrived Cero woke to sore muscles unused to the prior day’s exertion combined with cracked lips and parched throat. Stopping himself before he drank an entire water skin he began moving out. It wasn’t long before the sore muscle stopped protesting. The dull roar heard from the night before grew in intensity with the crest of every new sand dune. He made a point of staying out of sight of anyone that might be looking out of the tree line along the river.
Only a few hours passed before Cero was standing on the sandy beaches of a new ocean. This one consisted of actual water. Water rendered unpalatable by an abundance of salt but water none the less. Taking his failing boots off Cero soaked his feet in the refreshing water for a few minutes before heading north along the beach. Following the firm moist sand was the easiest to travel on and the feel of the cool sand on his feet soothed the sore muscles away.
When night again overtook him, Cero made camp on the beach. To his surprise the water line moved overnight and almost overtook his campsite before he realized. Relocating up higher on the beach he returned to sleep.
The next day was an adventure. Waking early and taking a swim in the surf cleaned off layers of dirt and grime. Dressing again he discovered that the salt water d
ried and left salt deposits on his skin that itched before being rubbed off. Sticking to the beach Cero discovered that there were some odd creatures living in the waterline. At his approach the creatures appeared to bury themselves into the sand. No matter how hard he tried to catch them in the act the creatures would always be gone when he arrived.
On finding a spot with water still bubbling out of the sand Cero began digging. After excavating a hole a couple feet deep he only came up with more sand. The creatures were scattered across miles of the beach. It was only when he snuck up on one that he was able to catch one by digging quickly. When he finally caught up he found that the creatures were some sort of thin shelled clam. It hardly had anything in the way of meat to it so Cero dropped it back in the hole. Now that he knew what the creatures were like he realized that their shells were scattered all over the beach.
No matter where he looked he found little to nothing in the way of food. Back from the beach a little was a sharp saw like kind of grass that took root in the sand dunes for a measure or so away from the water. Finding nothing edible in that direction he continued along the beach for a couple more days carefully rationing his dwindling provisions.
It was when Cero reached the end of the sandy beaches that he found a food source. In pools along the waterline a kind of crab lived. It took a fair amount of experimentation before Cero discovered that the legs could be boiled and the meat inside scraped out. The first experiment along this line was conducted with a bowl shaped rock placed on the fire with seawater and the crab legs inside. Abandoning the rock the next morning Cero regretted his mistake when he discovered that bowl shaped rocks were few and far in between. It was two full days before he discovered another. It was better than the first but irregular in shape. Cero began grinding it down carefully and soon had a reasonably thin relatively lightweight cooking utensil.
Days turned into weeks as Cero progressed up the coast. Water could be attained at the infrequent springs that made their way to the ocean. Most times a damp patch of sand was the only telltale of the spring’s presence until it had been followed back to its source. More times than not it was merely a dribble or a small puddle that had to be enlarged before it could be used for filling water skins.
Time ceased to have meaning as each day subsided into a routine. Waking up and taking a swim. Eating last night’s leftover crab legs with a rationed portion of the provisions. Walking throughout the day with the routine crab leg collection. The evening was used with finding a campsite and cooking supper. A short swim if the sun was still up. Sleep and the process starts again. Sometimes he would shake it up and travel at night sleeping through the day if a cool enough hiding place was discovered.
One day the constant routine was abruptly shattered. Glancing up he discovered that he was surrounded by fishing nets and staring fishermen. Cero realized that he must have come as a shock to these outlanders appearing out of nowhere shirtless, barefoot, lean and tanned with a heavy pack on his back.
*****
Emeck was hardly able to contain his exuberance when they walked out of the fog bank one morning. The worst of the swamp was behind them and Urake himself wasn’t keen on reentering the swamps in the near future. The river that they had just ahead. Urake felt certain that Skeln could not have made nearly as good of time as he and Emeck had managed.
Following the river downstream they found signs that someone had preceded them by only a day or so. The fresher tracks were encouraging. What puzzled Urake a little was that the footprints were the right size and depth for Skeln but the boot print was new. Newer than when the lad had entered the swamps. It was almost like Skeln had somehow acquired a new set of boots. He tried to recall if any of the trackers had been missing a set of boots and finally decided that that was the only possibility that made any sense. After a little while the set of boot prints changed periodically to bare footprints on the softer terrain.
It was near noon when Emeck paused and glanced around. Without offering an explanation he walked over to a patch of brush and pulled the shrubbery aside. Inside could be seen the remnants of a small fire and bed. Fish bones were scattered around the fire site.
“I remember this place. I think he was here when I contacted him.” Emeck glanced around.
“I have to admit that Skeln has a head on his shoulders. Without entering this thicket no one would have even guessed he was here unless the fire was bright enough to be seen. From the looks of the ashes the fire would have only been enough to cook the fish.” Urake scrutinized the campsite for a few minutes before stepping out of the thicket.
“He sure doesn’t make it any easier on us. I haven’t had a single glimpse from him since that night.” Emeck sounded disappointed.
“Well it might have been different if he had known who I really was. As it is the last time he saw me, I was tracking him with a group of soldiers that were hunting him. For one he had no way of knowing that I was trying to help him escape or that I could have followed him half this distance.” Emeck listened as Urake revealed more about himself and Skeln than he ever had.
“How did you get away from them?” Emeck was awed by the Asgare but couldn’t picture the man coming to grips with a whole squad of soldiers.
“I... I outsmarted them. The least of their concerns are myself and Skeln right now. Gave Skeln a head start that I haven’t been able to overcome” The only thing that the soldiers would be worrying about is whether they were buried deep enough to avoid getting dug up by wolves.
“That’s too bad. We are closer now than we have been in a while.”
“Ya, a whole day or two behind. I was only four hours behind when I started out.” Urake snorted in disgust.
“Do you have any idea where he might be headed?” Emeck tried changing the subject.
“That kid is as wily as a snake. He could be going anywhere. He has already gone through more places than I had ever expected and somehow managed to survive alone. At his age and experience the Draeld should have been the death of him but now here we are on his trail again.” Urake was still annoyed that Skeln was somehow able to keep ahead of him after all this time.
“I wish I could be of more help. If I could only get a message to him or see exactly where he is more often.” Emeck watched his feet and avoided the occasional patches of mud that existed this far out of the Draeld.
“No use beating yourself up over it. It took Brest years to get as good as you are. When I found him he was only vaguely aware of other people in his immediate vicinity. When I last saw him he could give me the general vicinity to within a mile or two of skilled people that were hiding themselves. You have a ways to go yet but without you I would still be wandering around in the north midlands without a clue where to go.”
The duo made good time and were at the tributary crossing shortly before evening fell. Urake was just catching the pack that Emeck had thrown over the gap between boulders when he heard a shout behind him. His stomach clenched when he turned and saw the full squad of soldiers. A dozen men with crossbows aimed in their direction. The tributary was only a hundred feet or so wide but the gurgle of the water around the jumping stones had hidden the men’s approach.
“Come over slowly and no tricks or we let loose!” The officer in charge shouted the order. Urake rapidly calculated his options. His body armor would probably protect him from the crossbow bolts at this range however Emeck was not similarly protected. They might survive a quick dash back over the river if they dropped their packs but then they would be at the mercy of the elements if they escaped the pursuing squad. If Emeck were able to slip off the back side of a rock and maintain a hand hold Urake would be free to open fire with his own bow. One glance over his shoulder showed him that the muddy water was moving fast and the stone was too rounded to get a grip.
Urake suddenly saw a look of terror on Emeck’s face and felt a sudden fear of drowning wash over him. He realized that Emeck must have picked up on what he was thinking and was somehow projecting his fear. Th
ere was only one option remaining now so Urake set out on the path before him.
Urake motioned for Emeck to toss over his pack and soon the lad was standing on the same jumping stone as himself. They continued their way across the river under the wary crossbows of the watching soldiers. When they stepped onto dry ground the men surrounded them and the officer in command began asking questions.
“What were you doing in the Draeld? No one goes in there.” Urake was glad that Ice heart and the war bow were hidden from sight beneath his cloak. The cloak was now stained brown and would need a good cleaning with soap and water to regain its original shades. Both he and Emeck were clad in the rough spun wool common to the peasants
“Just a hunter. That’s all I am. Was teachin my boy the trade and there ain’t no better place to learn how to live off the land than the Draeld. We has been in there for near a month now.” Urake took up the drawl common to the lower midlands and hoped that the three weeks’ worth of facial hair was convincing enough.
“Your boy? He doesn’t have your look about him.” Urake refrained from showing his annoyance at the perceptive nature of the office.
“Naw, that’s true. I'm not really his father. Me and his mother were kinda close when she passed away so I raised him as my own. He is good enough most times.” Urake took a relaxed stance and looked the officer in the eye as if it was the perfectly normal to be questioned by a soldier out in the middle of nowhere.
“No one in their right mind goes into the Draeld for hunting or anything else.” The officer glared at Urake as he cut in.
“No, not crazy, just that good. No one is better than me at trackin or huntin. I can catch skin and cook a snake a dozen differen ways.” Urake could see by the glint in the officer’s eye that he was walking close to the line. He wanted to remain on the safe side but knew that he was throwing the man off by even approaching it. Anyone with anything to hide would not think to be so bold as to interrupt their captor.