Winterburne replied, taking the mug. He would have to tell him, he knew. 'I think we're being followed,' he said, right away, turning to look out across the plain in the direction of the incident.
Conn looked out of the camp, into the darkness in the same direction. 'Why do you say that?'
'As we left the Hills and started crossing the plains, I thought I was mistaken, but now I am sure. I saw the sun on metal.'
Conn eyes widened.
'And I heard something out there too, past the camp.' Winterburne waved his hand in the direction of the noise. 'The darkness masked the cause, though.'
'An animal?'
Winterburne shook his head. 'I know of no animal that makes the noise of steel on steel. Besides, I might have expected an animal to carry on making its noise when it realised I was no threat.'
Conn nodded. 'I'll get more men on the perimeter.' He clapped his arm round Winterburne's shoulder. 'How do you feel about leading a flanking patrol, first thing tomorrow morning.'
'That might not be a bad idea. What did you have in mind?'
'Just a couple of men, and yourself. Take a ride out wide, and then sweep back behind us.'
'I reckon I could do that,' Winterburne replied.
'Nothing too adventurous. Just something to let our friend, or friends, know that we know they are there.'
Winterburne smiled, and nodded.
'You did good, Smyth,' Conn said. 'Get some rest, we'll work out the details in the morning.'
31
The Twenty-Second Day of Hi-summer,
Imperial Year 2332
Winterburne rose early. He had not slept as well as he had hoped. Conn's warning had bounced around inside his head and he had woken from a bad dream more than once during the night. Every sound in the dark had jabbed at his subconscious and brought him out of his slumber. "Watch your back", Conn had said, so he had slept with his sword in easy reach, just in case. Thankfully, though, in that particular respect, the night had passed quietly enough.
The group broke their fast with more road-biscuits and water; it was called ''the vagabonds feast'' by the men with more than a sense of literal distaste in their voices. As soon as the bedding was packed and his horse saddled and bridled, Winterburne made his way across to Conn's allotted camp area. The man was talking to Verkade as he arrived, and the cook took a sideways glance as he came nearer, ending his words as he approached the gangmaster. Verkade nodded at Winterburne as he reached the edge of Conn's domain then slipped away.
Conn waved Winterburne over. 'I've got a couple of men in mind for you to take on patrol, Smyth, but they're not tested.'
'Not tested?' Winterburne asked. 'You mean tested in the same sense as when you asked Verkade to check me out?'
Conn laughed. 'Verkade was right about you,' he said. 'He told me you were canny. He reckons that you have it in you to go a long way in this team.'
'Is that right?'
Winterburne thought about how evasive and distant Verkade had been with him over the last couple of weeks since they had broken camp in the hills. Still, the man did seem to show some respect towards him. Perhaps he did think a lot of him after all.
'I tend to agree with him,' Conn said, 'but I'm going to be honest and say that I'm still not completely sure about you.'
'Oh? Why is that?'
Winterburne suspected that he was being tested even now, but was curious as to the reason. After the first few days in camp where he had found his feet, he thought that he had settled well and was playing his part to a good standard.
'There's something about you, Smyth. Something I can't quite put my finger on. Verkade says I'm just being paranoid, but I tend to trust my gut instinct, and there's something telling me that there's more to you than meets the eye.' Conn looked him up and down. 'What did you do before you joined us?'
'You mean, why am I running?'
'No,' Conn said, shaking his head. 'I mean, what work did you do?'
'Anything I could, in truth. Manual labour mostly, fetching and carrying, that sort of thing.'
Conn nodded. 'Did you ever take charge of people?'
'I'm not sure I understand.'
'You know, lead a gang?'
'As a matter of fact I did. I was in charge of a crew of navvies a few times, stuff like that.'
'I see.'
Conn looked him up and down for a moment and Winterburne began to wonder whether the man suspected more, that he was lying, but he was sure that he hadn't said or done anything that might have given himself away.
'Anyway,' Conn said, 'I believe in honesty and trust, and I'll tell you what I'm thinking as long as you do the same with me.'
'Of course.'
'Good.' Conn smiled. 'Let's go and sort you out with a couple of men for your patrol.'
oOo
Winterburne had been assigned two of the newer members of the crew to accompany him on the patrol and Conn had introduced them to him as Spike and Toady. Spike was thin and wiry, his hair very much the same as it fell unkempt around his shoulders, while Toady was shorter and more squat but with a thick head of curly black hair and red, round cheeks. Most of the men never used their real names, and Winterburne had decided early in his time in the group to just accept that fact. He wanted no more to do with the men than he really had to but just enough to keep on top of the situation.
'Oy! Smythie!' The man labelled as Spike called across to him as they readied their mounts. The main body of men continued off on their own way to a thunder of hooves and leaving them behind. 'What makes you so special that you get to be able to order us around?'
'There's word in the gang,' Toady said, 'that he must be Conn's long lost love child.' The two men laughed, ' 'S'at true, Smyth?'
Winterburne smiled. This was going to be an interesting day, and in some ways the manner in which the men had spoken to him reminded him of the old days soon after he had joined the Highport City Watch when the banter flowed freely and the ale doubly so. There's nothing like Watch banter to toughen the hide of a new recruit.
'I'm just passing through with you boys,' Winterburne said, 'it's not my call what Conn decides to do.'
'He must like you though,' Spike said, 'no other new joiner gets privileged treatment like this. I been with his gang for nine months and I ain't never even been close to being considered for commanding.'
Winterburne raised his eyebrows; it wasn't difficult to see why.
'Honestly, Spike,' he said, 'I have no idea what's in Conn's mind. I haven't even decided if I'll stay yet. Might ditch when we get to White Haven.'
Spike and Toady burst into laughter and Spike said, 'You what?'
'He ain't realised yet, 'as 'e,' Toady said.
'Realised what?' Winterburne asked. The look on the two men's faces seemed to suggest that he had missed something quite fundamental.
'No one goes nowhere once they're in Conn's gang.' Toady still smirked. 'Only way outta Conn's gang is in a box.'
Both men laughed again.
We'll see about that, thought Winterburne, but instead said, 'So be it. Quite like it here anyway. Now be quiet, we're supposed to be watching the skyline not gas-bagging.'
Winterburne ordered them drop back several miles behind the main group of men, and then swung left, and then right, sweeping the territory behind. The two men obeyed silently, but with a look of displeasure on their faces for the most part. There was no sign of anything out of place, but there was one thing that was sure; the forest was getting closer, no more than a half mile away at most as it loomed away to their right, a constant shadowy solid wall of dark trees.
Spike chose that moment to speak. 'Never liked the Avonfforest,' he said.
'Why?' Winterburne noticed that the man hadn't taken his eyes of the place since they came close.
'Spent some time hidin' out in there once. For pretty much the whole time I was crapping my pants, I was.' Spike pulled a face, and Toady laughed.
Winterburne smiled at the over-exaggerated grimace on the man's fa
ce. 'Don't be ridiculous,' he said. 'What's a big man like you doing being scared of a forest.'
Spike remained silent for a moment and then looked over at him. 'Spiders,' he said.
Toady, exploded in laughter. 'It's true, Smythie, he hates spiders.'
'They aren't going to hurt you,' Winterburne said, 'they're more scared of you, than you are of them.' They were the words of his grandmother and in truth he had never been too sure about them.
Spike lifted his eyes and pointed at Toady. 'You can shut up, 'n all. Spiders ain't no laughing matter. Not these.' He shivered as he clearly thought of the experience. 'These bastards are as big as your bloody head.'
Toady was still laughing.
'I seen one dragging a cat off into the trees one day,' Spike said. 'Dead true. Cross my heart and hope to die. I ain't messin'. The cat fought like a bull terrier but the creature wasn't even bothered.'
'You're pulling my leg,' Winterburne said, but the look of genuine fear on Spike's face continued as he recounted the story of his encounter.
'Alright,' Spike said, 'maybe not the bit about the cat. But I'm telling you they're big.'
He held his hands wide apart, the width of his shoulders, as if recounting the story of an imaginary fish thrown back at the end of a day's fishing.
'Once,' he continued, 'I was looking for some food in the woods, you know nuts and mushrooms, stuff like that, but I wasn't having much luck to be honest and in truth I was pretty pissed off and getting tired. Well, anyway, I came across these ruins of an old church—'
'Here he goes,' Toady said, 'I heard this tale a thousand times and it changes with each telling. He tells all the new