For Sergeant Bronwyn Darrow and his seven men the night passed at an agonising pace. He believed they’d overtake Keiron and his band of thieves by morning. He was wrong. About a thousand yards from the attack site, the rough path joined a well-trodden route heading south-east.
Still feeling they could overtake Keiron if they didn’t stop to rest, Bronwyn pushed his men to travel the entire night. Exhaustion had set in by the time they entered the road at the first signs of dawn. Sawney, who led the troops, slid from his horse and steered it to a roadside stream. He removed its bridle and let it drink. The rest followed.
Bronwyn remained in the saddle and looked in one direction then the other. It appeared to be the road betwixt Maskil and Ellswire. If so, then Keiron didn’t go right towards his home town; he went left.
A hand touched his leg and he looked down to find Farlan.
“I’ll take the horse to drink,” said the corporal.
The dwarf wanted to keep moving, but the human didn’t budge.
“They need a rest.”
Reluctantly, Bronwyn slid from the saddle. His legs buckled when his feet hit the ground. He’d have collapsed if not for his grip on the pommel and Farlan grabbing his arm.
“And so do you.” Farlan waited until Bronwyn had steadied himself then guided the horse to the spring.
Bronwyn shook the stiffness from his legs and walked in circles to work out the kinks. He often rode in training and for pleasure, but he’d never sat in the saddle this long. He suspected the others felt the same.
“Men, we’ll rest here for thirty minutes. Eat if you can.” Bronwyn continued to walk, staring at the dirt as he did. Many hoof prints dotted the road, making it impossible to trace the same ones they had followed all night. He saw a pair of boots in his path and stopped.
“Here.” Farlan handed him a flask of water.
He unscrewed the cap and drank. The cool water soothed his throat. His friend held out an apple, and he accepted it. Together they scanned the empty road.
“I’m sure this leads to Ellswire.”
“I thought the same,” said Bronwyn.
“Then we know which way they didn’t go.” Farlan scanned the edge of the forest on the opposite side of the road. “What are the chances they crossed and kept going?”
“It’d be easier to take the road.”
“But is it wiser? He’s going to use every trick to get away.”
Bronwyn released a heavy sigh. It felt as though he shrunk a size when he released the anguish and worry he had harboured all night. Tears welled, but he swallowed them. He had to keep his senses clear. He felt Farlan’s large hand on his shoulder.
“Damn him for doing this to her,” said his friend.
Bronwyn gestured towards Sawney who walked along the forest’s edge. “He thinks like you. He’s wondering if they crossed and kept going.”
“Do you think there’s another hidden trail beyond those trees? Like the one at Linden Lake? That trail isn’t on the map at the guardhouse. All sorts of travellers could pass by Maskil without detection.”
Scratching his head, Bronwyn wondered the same things. Surely a castle patrol had stumbled upon the well-worn path over the years. “When I get back to Maskil it’ll be added.” He pulled his map from the pouch on his belt and opened it. Then he refolded it, leaving the area of concern visible. He drew-in the hidden trail for future reference. “If I’m right, we’re here.”
Farlan looked over his shoulder to see where Bronwyn pointed. “If Keiron crossed and went into the woods, he’d head directly for the Shulie River.”
“There’s no visible horse trails. It’d be rough going.” Bronwyn finished the last bite of his apple and tossed the core in the ditch. “If there’s a trail hidden in the forest,” he pointed to the opposite side of the river, “they could be in Edgewood in about three days. From there, they could head in any number of directions. They could even go to Wandsworth.” He swallowed hard. “I didn’t have time to tell you this yesterday, but…” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know how to say this except to just come out and say it.”
Farlan folded his arms and waited.
“Finola’s dead.” He watched his face lose all expression, and he stared off into the trees. Both had endured several horrific events the past few weeks. It didn’t seem as if any news could shock them.
“How?”
“Bandits attacked the coach, killing her and another passenger.”
“And Liam?”
“He’s safe in Wandsworth with his aunt and uncle.”
Farlan walked away. Bronwyn watched him return to his horse and stroke its neck. His friend still held himself responsible for the death of Liam’s das. This only added to the guilt.
“Sergeant.” Junior Corporal Cronin stopped beside him. “I found a trail into the forest.”
Bronwyn followed Sawney to the trees and listened as he explained.
“Two of them entered here. I followed it for about two hundred feet. There’s no sign of a defined trail, so they’re bush-whacking.”
“Only two?” Bronwyn knelt for a closer look at the hoof prints.
“Yes. If I had to guess, the human was one of them. The prints are fairly deep for this one.” Sawney pointed to a track near his foot.
“And the other?”
“It’s difficult to say,” said Sawney. “If your daughter is riding with the hauflin, she adds weight to the horse. I can’t tell if this is a medium-sized being or two smaller riders.”
“The question is: Did Keiron choose the easy path or the one he had to make?”
Sawney remained quiet.
“From what I know of the thief, he’d want to travel with speed. Once he entered Ellswire, tracking would be near impossible.” Bronwyn looked down the road. “In about four days, he’d feel safe. Using logic, he’d travel the road.” He looked into the forest. “But he’s a tricky bastard with twisted logic. If he spied on Isla in Maskil, he knows who I am. And if so, he knows I’d think he took the road, making cutting a path towards Edgewood more logical.”
“Either way you size it up, Sarg, one choice will be right and the other wrong.”
Bronwyn eyed the dwarf. “Would you hazard a guess?”
“I’d rather give you the facts and let you decide.” Sawney pulled a sapling near. “The travellers broke this tree not more than four hours ago. Discolouration has begun to set in. This type of tree keeps it’s freshness for about three to four hours.” He released the branch and it snapped back into place. “If they’re breaking a trail, they’ll be slower than those who follow them. They might stop to rest. We could overtake them within eight hours. Then we’ll see who we’re following. If it’s not the hauflin and your daughter we can question them and possibly learn Keiron’s planned destination.
“If we choose to follow the road, we may not catch-up with them for days. They might leave the road and enter the forest, and we may not see their trail. Either way, if we don’t learn we’re following the wrong horses until we reach Ellswire, we’ll be six days or more behind these travellers.” Sawney pointed to the broken trail.
Bronwyn weighed the information. Regardless of which logic Keiron used, Sawney’s facts pointed in only one direction. This should have made it easier to choose the path they’d take, but fear of making a mistake caused him to hesitate. One path took him to his daughter, the other away from her. “Sawney, I’m glad you’re with us.”
“Glad to be of service, Sergeant. I know how important this is to you.” He stood and adjusted his scabbard belt. “I have a brother about the same age as Isla. We’d be devastated if he had been taken.”
“Thanks.” Bronwyn reached out and shook the scout’s hand. “For everything.”