Chapter 6
When the spring came Coursa sent Eduard to announce that she had an important job. Jain and Airk followed him back to the old woman’s cottage where they were seated and served with good food by one of the seemingly endless stream of Coursa’s descendants. Jain had tried to learn all the names of the people who passéd through the cottage but there were well over a hundred grandchildren, grandchildren-in-law, great grandchildren, and others like herself who had entered the rogue clan without blood or marriage. Jain was sure she had seen the woman who served them before, but she could put a name to the face and the woman did not talk to her.
“So,” Coursa said when they were seated. “I have an especially tricky task for the three of you. You’re not the ones I would have chosen for it, but my rougher grandchildren are all off on other errands, mostly mercenary work killing Rephaim. But that’s not important now.”
“What do you need us to do?” Airk asked with his mouth full. Jain looked at him and shook her head.
Coursa smirked, but quickly suppressed it. “There is an Adaran shepherd traveling in The Holdings with two Adaran knights.”
“That should get you some coin,” Airk said. “I’m surprised Grima’s not here.”
Coursa shook her head. “I’m not interested in a bounty. They’re looking for something, or they were. As we speak they are making their way back toward Sorena.”
“What did they find?” Jain asked.
Coursa shrugged. “Whatever it is, it must be worth a lot, at least to the Adarans.”
“And you want it,” Airk reasoned, again with his mouth full.
“Swallow your food before you talk,” Jain snapped.
Airk gulped. Coursa suppressed her smile. Eduard suddenly found the wall very interesting.
“I want it,” Coursa confirmed. “I would rather this happen without bloodshed. That would draw attention I do not need.”
“Well that’s fine with me,” Airk said. “But how do we take something valuable from armed men without killing anyone?”
Coursa smiled. “The woman who took Tomkin’s prized sword and dagger without killing him is sitting next to you. And I’m sending Eduard with you.” She reached over and pinched her grandson’s cheek for a moment before he leaned away. “He’s the sneakiest of my grandchildren.”
Coursa showed them a map and indicated the road that her sources told her the Adarans were on. They had traveled deep into the northeastern section of the holding and would return through Chatshire, the shire to the east of Zohershire. They would ride through Zohershire and across the frontier into Sorena. Laird Tomasso of Chatshire was Laird Colin’s brother and close ally, so the border between their lands was not heavily guarded. It would be a good place for the rogues to intercept and rob them.
A few days later three men in drab clothing made their way along the road from Chatshire into Zohershire. The oldest of the men had grey hair and the squinting eyes of one who had spent too much time reading by candlelight. He had a mace in his belt and a satchel slung over his shoulder. He could have just as easily stowed the satchel in his horse’s saddlebags but its contents were too precious for him to let go. The men who rode with him had an axe and a spear, respectively.
A tree branch hung over the road ahead. Beside it lay a young woman. Her horse stood next to her. Between the two of them they blocked the road completely. She groaned and stirred as they approached but did not get up. The Adarans stopped their horses.
“Why don’t the heathens take care of their roads?” the knight with the axe asked.
“Or their women,” the other replied. “Looks likes she was traveling alone.”
“I don’t like this,” the shepherd said, looking around nervously.
“I’ll go see if I can move her,” the knight with the axe said. He swung down from the saddle and the shepherd took his horse’s reins. The knight approached the girl and knelt. “Can you hear me, lass?” When he got no answer he leaned closer, and suddenly felt a dagger against his throat.
“Don’t move,” Jain whispered. The knight shut his eyes in disbelief. How could he have been so easily fooled? Jain reached over with her free hand and undid the belt into which his axe was tucked.
“What are you doing?” the shepherd called. He turned at a commotion beside him. The knight with the spear was being pulled backward off his horse by a rugged peasant. The horse startled and bolted into the woods. The shepherd reached for his mace and realized that something was missing. In the commotion he had not noticed Eduard sneaking up on him and cutting strap that held the satchel.
Jain hooked the axe behind the knight’s neck so that he was firmly trapped between it and the dagger. She rose to her feet and the knight, having no choice, followed her movement. When they were both standing, she lowered the axe. “Run home, Adaran.” The knight backed away, his hands up. “Run!” Jain yelled, and he ran.
Jain turned her attention to the shepherd. He had drawn his mace but now hesitated. The other knight lay on his back with his spear now pointed at his chest. The shepherd looked back at Jain, who sheathed her dagger and took a tow handed grip on the axe. The weapon was heavy but she was strong and capable from a good diet and a lot of sword practice. “It’s over, sheep master,” Jain said. “One of your men has gone, the other is under my husband’s spear, and our man who took your satchel has a crossbow pointed at you. Drop your weapon. We’ll have a look through your saddlebags, though I suspect we already have what we’re after.”
“You would kill me,” the shepherd said. “You would sacrifice me to your heathen gods.”
“I assure you, we won’t harm you,” Airk said. “We do not represent the lairds, nor the augurs. And if you don’t drop the club, I will kill your friend.”
The shepherd sighed and dropped his mace. He dismounted and handed the reins of the horses over to Eduard, who now emerged from the forest with his sword drawn.
“He doesn’t have a crossbow,” the shepherd said indignantly.
Jain rolled her eyes. “You mean a bandit lied to you?”
The shepherd gave her an angry look, but after a moment he just shook his head and sat down, accepting whatever fate would now come to him. The saddlebags of the two horses revealed clothes, food, and a few coins. Nothing of any real interest. The satchel Eduard had stolen held a leather bound book. The leather was dry and cracked and the pages had turned brownish yellow with age. The wheel emblem of Adara was draw on the cover.
“What is this?” Eduard asked.
“A very old book,” the shepherd replied. “I do not know exactly what is in it. I cannot read the writing.” When he saw the skeptical look Eduard gave him, he said. “I swear to Adara, I do not know what is in that book. I was ordered to retrieve it. They did not tell me what is was.”
Eduard nodded. “Fine. On your way. You can keep your horses. You’ll understand if we don’t return your weapons.”
“What good is that book to you?” the shepherd asked. “Can you even read it?”
Eduard stepped closer and pressed his sword against the shepherd’s neck. “That does not concern you. You tried to steal something from these lands. I’m only stealing it back. Now get on your horses, ride away, and never come back.”
The shepherd nodded. He and the knight mounted their horses and urged them forward. They would ride home in disgrace, but they would make it home. They could at least be grateful for that.
Eduard, Jain, and Airk brought the book back to Coursa. Course smiled when Eduard placed the book on her table. She looked at a few pages but could not make out any of the text, so she called for Grima. He emerged from one of the bedrooms and came to the table, muttering as he went. The death of his previous laird had left him unemployed and his absence at that battle had led to rumors that he had betrayed that laird. He had no choice but to stay with Coursa. This had darkened his already grim mood.
Grima
sat down at the table and looked at the book. “This is High Genasi,” he said after looking at a few of the pages. “It’s an older form of the language.”
“Can you translate it?” Coursa asked.
The muscles around Grima’s eyes tensed as if he was in pain. “No. The characters are strangely formed. I can make out a few words, but not enough for it to make any sense.”
“You went to the academy,” Coursa said as she sat down next to him. “Is there another augur who could translate it?”
Grima let out a raspy sigh and shook his head. “We don’t bother about these dead languages.”
“Who does?” Jain asked.
“There are translators,” Grima replied. “Most of them work at the academy.”
“Then we’ll hire one,” Coursa said.
“No,” Grima hissed. “The translators work for the Academy. You can’t get near them.”
They sat around in silence for a moment before Coursa said, “What about the cripple?”
“The cripple?” Grima asked. “He left as soon as his studies were finished. He hasn’t been to the Academy in three or four years.”
“But he is trained as a translator,” Coursa said. “He’s the only one outside the Academy who might be able to translate this.” She turned to Jain and Airk. “I have another job for you.”