Read The Jongurian Mission Page 6


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  Halam broke the men up shortly after they’d made their plan. Pader, Willem, Iago, and Dilon found positions that gave them a clear view of the center tent, taking out their bows to wait. The rest headed around the clearing to the rear of the tents. When it was clear that all the Jongurians were asleep, Halam would head over to give the men the go ahead. When they’d gotten Trey and Millen out, they were to run back into the forest and meet up, then move as fast and silently as they could further into the forest while still following the road. The bowmen would circle around after Halam came back to tell them that all’d went well, or after a time they deemed sufficient if something went wrong.

  Soon after they’d gotten into position two Jongurians that had been in the tent came out to join the men around the fire. They took some pulls from the wineskins, but then quickly got up to head into one of the side tents. They said something to the men before going in, and one of them got up and went into the center tent. It was another couple hours before the other men tired of their wine. Three of them got up and headed to the empty tent, leaving one man to sit outside on watch. It wasn’t long before they heard loud snoring come from the tent the three men had gone into, and shortly after that the man they left outside fell asleep as well. Things couldn’t get much better for them, so Halam headed around to inform the others that it was time.

  Bryn headed out into the clearing first, getting down on his hands and knees like before, Sam and Fess close on his heels. When he got within ten feet of the tent he began to crawl on his belly again, even though it probably wasn’t necessary with all of the men asleep, but he didn’t want to take any chances.

  A glow was still coming from inside the tent when Bryn got up next to it. He lifted the flap up a bit and peeked inside. Trey and Millen were stretched out on the floor as best they could manage with their hands and feet tied. They appeared to be sleeping. The guard that Halam had told them about was also asleep by the entrance, snoring softly. Bryn waved his hand for Sam and Fess to come up and have a look. They nodded to one another after doing so, and Fess took out the dirk Pader had given him and slowly slid it through the canvas and sliced upward, the sharp blade moving smoothly. When he was satisfied that the slit would be large enough for them to come out of standing up, he nodded at Sam, who took hold of his dagger and slowly crawled into the tent while Bryn and Fess watched.

  He moved to Trey first, who quickly awoke when he felt the rope being cut from his hands. Sam quickly put his hand over Trey’s mouth, and when Trey nodded, moved down to cut the rope at his feet, then motioned for him to head out of the tent. Millen had also come awake by then and stared over at Sam pleadingly. After taking a quick look at the guard to make sure he was still asleep he waited for Trey to make it out of the tent, then moved to cut the rope from Millen’s hands. Millen moved to sit up and kicked his legs out for Sam to cut the rope from his feet, but his boots made a noise as they scraped together. The guard stirred and opened his eyes for just a moment, and then, realizing what he saw, jerked up and went for the shortsword sheathed at his belt. Sam moved quickly to thrust at the man with his dagger, but the Jongurian proved quicker, dodging out of the way of the incoming blade while yanking his sword from its sheath. Sam was thrown off balance by the unexpected move, and stumbled forward. The Jongurian didn’t hesitate. As Sam turned to face the man, ready to thrust again with his dagger, the Jongurian stabbed him through the stomach with his shortsword. Sam let out a gasp as he looked down at the man’s sword, then fell to his knees, blood pouring from his mouth. The Jongurian removed his blade, his gaze falling on Millen as Sam toppled to the ground, his life pouring from him.

  Millen’s feet were still tied, so he began to crawl frantically with his arms toward the slit in the tent. The Jongurian took a step after him and was reaching down to grab Millen by the hair when Fess came through the slit in the canvas. The guard caught a glimpse of movement and began to look up, but Fess was already swinging the dirk in front of him. The blade caught the guard full in the face, slashing a deep red gash where his nose was and sending a spray of blood over the walls of the tent. The Jongurian dropped his sword and fell to the ground, whimpering in agony as he clutched his face. Fess quickly bent down to slice the rope holding Millen’s feet. He helped him stand up then ushered him through the slit in the tent. He was following quickly behind when he let out a cry of pain. The Jongurian had picked up his shortsword and slashed the back of Fess’s leg below the knee. Fess turned and parried a thrust from the man who was still on his knees, then drove the dirk straight down into the top of the man’s head. When he pulled it loose it was wet with blood. The guard slumped over dead as Fess limped out of the tent. He stopped for a moment to pull Bryn to his feet. He’d watched it all happen in what seemed a blink of an eye. Fess put his arm around Bryn’s shoulders and they hurried as fast as they could to where the other men were standing in the forest.

  “Is he dead?” Millen was the first to ask.

  “Aye, he’s dead,” Fess replied gritting his teeth in pain. “Not before he slashed my leg, though.” He showed them as best he could in the moonlight the gash on his leg.

  “Can you walk?” Conn asked quickly.

  “I’ll manage,”

  “And what about Sam?” Jal said.

  “Dead,” Fess replied.

  “What happened in there?” Halam appeared with the bowmen close behind him. “When I saw the blood spray inside the tent I knew something had gone wrong.”

  “The guard woke up and put his sword through Sam’s belly,” Fess replied, obviously in shock as he went over the details. “I charged in before he could get to Millen and slashed him across the face. That was the blood you saw. We turned to run, but he got my leg, so I drove my dirk into his head. He’s dead now, same as Sam.”

  Iago came up and took Fess’s arm, giving Bryn a break from supporting the man. “We’ve got to get out of here as fast as we can. West is it?”

  “Aye,” Halam replied, “we head west and hope that the rest don’t wake until morning.”

  NINETEEN

  There was no more talk of heading to Bindao after that. They trudged west without complaint, save for Fess who continuously groaned at their pace. It wasn’t that they were moving fast; the darkness and the trees wouldn’t allow that. It was just that they were moving.

  The cut on Fess’s leg was deeper than they’d earlier thought. After moving for less than an hour Fess yelled out in pain and they were all forced to a stop. He crumpled to the ground and Iago knelt down to get a better look at the damage. The loose cotton trousers around the wound were wet with blood, and Fess’s boot was filling with it as well, so that whenever he stepped on that foot it made a squishing sound.

  “It’s worse than I thought earlier,” Iago said as he peeled away the piece of canvas they had wound around the cut. “You’re still bleeding heavily. How do you feel?”

  “Tired, and a bit dizzy,” Fess replied.

  Iago turned to look up at Halam. “He won’t be able to walk much longer.”

  Halam looked at the others in the darkness. “A crutch from a tree branch won’t serve?”

  “It might’ve an hour ago,” Iago replied, “but not now.” He looked up at Halam for an answer. They all knew full well that with each passing minute dawn grew closer and their chances of escape diminished. As soon as the rest of the Jongurians awoke to find one of the number dead and their captives missing they’d be combing the woods looking for them.

  “We’ll have to fashion some type of stretcher from tree branches then,” Halam replied to Iago’s stare. “Let’s find some suitably strong limbs and get them tied together with the rope we have.”

  The men began to look around for branches as the forest grew lighter. The sun was coming up somewhere behind them which made seeing easier but would also mean that they’d have to move that much faster. After several minutes they’d gotten two thick tree branches tied together with some length of rope at one
end and another thicker branch tied to each end so that they were joined. The branches were long enough that two people could grab the ends and haul it while the other end dragged against the ground.

  “That will have to do with the materials and the time that we have,” Halam said as he looked over their work. “Hop on Fess and let’s see if it supports you.

  Fess gingerly limped over to the makeshift stretcher and sat down, raising his injured leg up as best he could so that it wouldn’t drag. He looked up and nodded that it would serve. Jal and Conn took up the two ends and they all moved out again.

  The morning light made it easier to see and the forest was not as thick as it had been. There were more small clearings between trees and less undergrowth. After another hour the forest ended entirely and a large grassy plain stretched out ahead of them. The ground rolled as small hills formed so that the terrain was not completely flat. Larger hills loomed on the horizon.

  “The going will be faster, but our chances of being seen will increase,” Willem said when they stopped at the edge of the forest.

  “We don’t know that they have followed us in this direction, either,” Pader pointed out. “Could be they chose to follow the road in either direction, or even head east.”

  “It’s just as likely that they’re moving through that forest behind us right now,” Iago said. “They know that we need to head west to get home.”

  “We’ll just have to pick up the pace and hope that the rolling landscape will obscure us some,” Halam said. “Once we get to those hills on the horizon we’ll be good.”

  They rested for a few minutes and ate some more of the cheese, salt pork, and the last of the bread. They drank sparingly from the water skins, not knowing when they would find another source of fresh water. When they were done eating they got up and left the forest behind. The plains were covered in short grasses and wiry brush. They started out at a quick walk, but when Halam looked back and saw how open the land was compared to the forest they left behind, he ordered them into a slow jog. It was hard on Fess, as his stretcher bounced along the ground sending pain shooting up his leg, but the others didn’t complain. They knew the alternatives to tiredness just by hearing the grunts of pain coming from the man behind them.

  The hills in the distance grew larger as the morning wore on. They got into a rhythm of jogging for most of an hour then walking for ten minutes and then jogging again. Rodden and Dilon took over carrying the stretcher during that first hour, then handed it to Flint and Willem when they all took their break to walk.

  “Do you think it’s just those seven men, well six now, that are after us?” Flint asked the others as they jogged through the grasses.

  “Let’s hope so,” Pader replied. “If it comes down to them catching up with us, we have a good chance. Anymore than those six, however, and our odds decrease.”

  “Why do you think they’re following us in the first place?” Bryn asked after a few more minutes of silence passed.

  “That’s the ultimate question, Bryn,” Willem replied ahead of him. “Are these men some of the same that might have seen us in Weiling? Did that representative Yuan send these men after us when his ships didn’t come back that night? I don’t know.”

  “We have to entertain the possibility that these men are acting alone,” Pader said. “I still can’t believe that the emperor would allow this to happen.”

  “Nor can I,” Halam replied, “but perhaps he doesn’t know. Jonguria is a large country, larger than Adjuria. There are many things bound to happen that the emperor doesn’t know about.”

  “So there’d be no cause for war when we report this back in Baden?” Rodden asked.

  “Aye, if we make it back,” Iago said with a laugh.

  “If we make it back to Baden and tell the king what has occurred here, we have no proof that it was anything other than some pirate ships that attacked us at sea and a group of local brigands who hunted us through the woods. The same happens to ordinary citizens in Adjuria all the time and no one hears of it,” Pader said

  “The difference is that we are in Jonguria and members of a royally sanctioned trading expedition,” Halam pointed out. “There will be consequences.”

  The talk stopped after that as the men grew tired from jogging and saved their breath. There was some wisdom in those words, however, Bryn thought. If they did make it out of this and back to Baden, they’d have no way to prove that this was anything other than a random attack. If they were to drag the whole empire into this, they would need some proof as to its involvement.

  They pressed on, their pace slowing as their lack of sleep caught up with them. The morning turned to afternoon and they neared the base of the large hills that took up so much of the horizon. The grass tapered off as the ground began to rise, turning instead to looser dirt and brush. There were a few small stands of trees but more bushes and brush as they started into the hills. Further up the trees began to grow in small copses, thickening with elevation until the top of the hills were covered by them. Large rocks were strewn all around them and quite a few boulders dotted the rising landscape. They chose a rain-washed gully to make their ascent. The grade was too steep for them to continue at a jog, but Halam still kept a steady pace. They wound their way along the narrow passage and soon the grassy plains stretched out below them, the large forest they’d come through now just a large blot of green far behind them. The clouds parted and the sun beat down on them causing the sweat to roll off their faces in rivulets. Their shirts were soon stuck to their chests and backs. Halam called for a rest when they’d made it to a level amount of ground.

  “Tossed about in the sea, running through forests, and now hiking up hills, this is really quite the outing,” Rodden jested after they’d eased out of their packs and began to pass the water skins around.

  “Fun isn’t it?” Pader returned. “Remind me to do it more often.”

  “What’s that,” Millen said, breaking the light moment.

  He pointed out onto the grassy plains near the edge of the distant forest. The men squinted and held their arms up against the sun.

  “Bryn, hand me your spyglass,” Willem said. Bryn reached into his jacket pocket and handed the glass over. Willem put it to his eye and stared for a moment, then passed it to Halam. “They’ve found our trail.”

  “What! How could they?” Pader said, jumping to his feet to stare out at the land below them.

  “Well, thirteen men going through a dark forest while dragging a stretcher will tend to leave traces,” Iago said as Halam handed him the glass.

  “How many are there?” Pader asked. “Still just six?”

  “Yes, still six,” Halam replied. “They’re coming on strong with their horses.”

  “At that pace, I’d say they’ll be at these hills in no more than an hour,” Iago said, turning to look at Halam. “You’re still not set on the non-violent approach, I hope.”

  “No, that hope vanished when they killed Sam. Now we do whatever we can to survive.”

  “So we make a stand here then, right?” Millen asked. “If there’re only six of them and thirteen of us, it shouldn’t even be a contest.”

  “Aye, and we have bows,” Dilon pointed out. “We can hit them while they climb up to us.”

  “They’ll have to leave their horses at the base of the hills, either tied up or with someone to watch them,” Willem said.

  “Could be also that they have more men coming up the other side of these hills as we stand here now,” Trey offered.

  “That could be, but I don’t see how they could’ve gotten word out so quickly,” Halam replied. “No, I think for now it is just these six.” He thought for a minute before going on. “I think that we should climb higher and try to get up more into those trees toward the top. There’ll be more cover for us up there and our chances’ll improve.”

  “Aye, that’s good thinking,” Iago agreed.

  “Alright, then let’s move,” Halam said, shouldering his pack o
nce again and taking the lead.

  They climbed higher and were soon surrounded by the small copses of trees. They would provide some cover, but after another hour they’d be near the thicker trees of the summit. Every few minutes they’d turn and look down at the plains. The horsemen continued to ride hard, covering as much distance in a few minutes as had taken them an hour. They’d reach the hills and begin the climb sooner than any of them had previously thought. Sensing this, they moved faster.

  By the time the copses thickened into groves and then swelled to woods, their pursuers had reached the base of the hills. Instead of dismounting and continuing on foot as they’d thought, however, the men rode their horses right up the same narrow gully they’d taken earlier.

  “They’ll be on us a lot quicker than I realized,” Iago said when they saw the men still ahorse.

  “Let’s get ready then,” Willem suggested. “The trees’ve thickened enough. We can take up positions with the bows and hope to shoot a couple of them out of the saddle before they’re upon us.”

  “Alright,” Halam agreed, “Let’s make four groups of three. Those first shots with the bows’ll be decisive. Make them count. Let’s hope that only one man comes to each group. If not, aid the men nearest to you. Bryn,” he paused to find his nephew, “you stay close to me.”

  Willem, Millen, and Conn took up a position on the far right amidst a thick stand of trees with several large bushes in front that provided good cover. Pader and Rodden dragged Fess over with them to a small copse to the left of them. Halam, Bryn, Dilon, and Flint took up a middle position around some trees growing thickly together while Iago, Trey, and Jal found a spot on the far left amidst a few large boulders and some trees. They were all spaced about ten feet apart from each other and the area in front of them was a largely open space with trees interspersed throughout; overall an ideal place to make a stand. They hunkered down to wait, their blades and bows at the ready.

  After what seemed a long wait but in actuality was only minutes, they heard the sound of horses’ hooves on the dirt and rocky ground. The horses would have to wend their way between a thick copse of trees and a few boulders to come through a narrow path that the archers could focus in on.

  The first horse came through at a quick trot and its rider was quickly taken by an arrow in the right breast just below the shoulder while a second later another arrow landed in the horse’s left flank. The animal reared up and spilled its rider to the ground before it ran off toward some trees. The man was only wounded and grasped the arrow with his hand, breaking the shaft off close to where it’d entered his chest. He quickly yelled something in Jongurian and another rider came through the narrow passage at a gallop, with yet another close behind. Two arrows sailed out to meet the first rider but both missed and he continued on toward them as a third arrow struck his steel breastplate and harmlessly bounced off. The second rider was not so lucky; an arrow struck him right in his unprotected chest and sent him sailing off the back of his horse to land with a loud thud on the hard ground, dead.

  After that Bryn had a hard time keeping track of exactly what occurred. The rider that made it through rode up to the trees where Pader, Rodden, and Fess were and proceeded to swing down at them with his shortsword. Two more riders made it through unscathed, but the third was unhorsed when an arrow went through his leg and into his mount, causing the animal to rear up, throwing the man as the arrow snapped off in the beast. The Jongurians shouted out to one another and quickly identified the four areas that the men were hiding at. The other two horsemen fanned out to their right and each rode toward a group of men. The man that took the arrow in the chest came on toward Willem, but he put another arrow next to the first, and this time the man fell to the ground and didn’t get up. The man with the leg wound came up behind the other man fighting on foot, taking his own bow out.

  To the right, Halam pushed Bryn to the ground behind him as the man on horseback savagely swung his longsword down at them. Halam parried as best he could with his shortsword and tried to return some blows, but his shorter blade was no match for the man ahorse, and his blows fell short. Flint came up with his hand-axe and tried to slash at the animals legs, but the horse was bred for war and kicked and bit at him while the Jongurian knocked his clumsy blows aside. Dilon raised his bow and knocked an arrow, taking his time to aim carefully. His first shot had landed harmlessly on the man’s breastplate, so he wanted to get a shot at the man’s exposed throat or face. He was about to let loose when an arrow took him in the stomach and he fell to the ground clutching at the arrow in pain.

  Iago was having more luck blocking the attacks of the mounted Jongurian in front of him, his longsword being more equal to the task. The Jongurian swung at them with a shortsword. Trey and Jal were not much help with their daggers, but they tried to slash at the animals legs, to no avail. Iago yelled for Jal to take the bow at his feet and try that, but as Jal lifted it up from the ground the Jongurian caught it with his shortsword and sliced it in half.

  To the left, Pader swung his dirk as best he could to block the swings from the Jongurian’s shortsword. The man was still ahorse and swinging wildly with no concern for accuracy. Rodden cowered behind him and tried to block Fess, who could only lie by helplessly and watch. Willem, Millen, and Conn rushed over from their position to help. Willem had better luck blocking the wild blows of the man and even getting a few return thrusts in while Conn swung away with his hand-axe. He managed to slice the man in the leg, but it was as if he didn’t feel the cut or didn’t care, for he kept swinging wildly, although he appeared to slow somewhat. Willem blocked another few swings then managed to slice the man’s arm above the elbow, causing him to yell out in pain. Seeing an opening, Millen rushed in with his dagger to stab the horse, but the Jongurian was quicker. He swung down with his sword and sliced Millen clear through the shoulder and half-way down his chest before the blade stopped and the man pulled it free. Millen toppled to the ground, blood pouring out around him.

  Angered, Willem and Conn came on faster. Conn was able to hit the man in the leg again, nearly taking it off below the knee. That gave Willem an opening, and he slipped his shortsword up between the man’s ribs. All of the strength left the Jongurian at that point. He gave a few more feeble swings with his sword, then kicked his horse away, returning the way he’d come.

  Rodden bent down to see if there was anything that could be done for Millen, but his wounds were too grievous and he was dead, his lifeless eyes staring up in silent surprise. Rodden and Conn grabbed hold of Fess’s stretcher and pulled it further back from the fight while Willem and Pader ran to help out the others against the two Jongurians still attacking from horseback. Willem made it over to Halam and Flint and began to block the swings of the horseman there.

  Pader moved further on to get to Iago, Trey, and Jal, but before he could move too far and he felt his dirk drop to the ground and he looked over to see an arrow sticking from his right shoulder. He moved his gaze outward and saw the Jongurian with blood coming from his leg knocking another arrow and getting ready to take aim. Pader took his own bow and grabbed an arrow from the sheaf at his back, all the while grimacing in pain. The Jongurian fired but Pader was able to dodge behind some trees. When he came out he had an arrow knocked. The Jongurian was in the process of pulling another arrow from his sheaf when Pader’s arrow took him square in the chest. Blood came from the man’s mouth as he fell forward onto his face, breaking the arrow in half as he struck the hard ground.

  Pader grabbed the shaft of the arrow in his arm and broke it off, then rushed over to aid Iago, who was tiring quickly. It was only him against the horsemen as Trey and Jal’s daggers were of little use. Constantly blocking the powerful downward swings of the Jongurian was becoming more difficult for the old Mercentian, and he didn’t think he could keep it up much longer. Pader rushed over, but with the broken arrow shaft still protruding from his right shoulder he was barely able to raise his arm over his head to swing at their atta
cker.

  Halam was having the same problem with his opponent. It was all he could do to block the attacks, and he and Flint had few chances to swing in return. Willem came to their aid, but they were still overwhelmed. When they tried to stab at the horse so as to even the odds, it proved just as fruitless. They were tiring quickly while the Jongurians’ attacks showed little sign of slowing.

  From nowhere an arrow buried itself up to the fletches in the Jongurian’s throat. Halam and Willem gave pause and looked about, wondering where the arrow had come from, but could see no one. The Jongurian clutched at his throat as blood spilled down his shiny breastplate, then kicked his horse to ride away. He didn’t make it far before he slumped over then fell completely from the saddle, landing hard on the ground to lay still.

  Now only the one horseman in front of Iago and Pader remained. He gave a few more swings of his sword, but he too had seen the arrow sail out to take his companion, and looked around cautiously. As he readied his arm for another swing an arrow slammed into it. He dropped his sword and clutched at his arm with his other hand, an angry scowl appearing on his face as he glanced about the trees further up the hill. He kicked his horse and steered it back the way he’d come. Another arrow sailed past his head as he turned around the boulders and vanished from sight.

  The men kept their weapons ready while they turned every which way looking for where these attacks had come from and who it was that had chosen to aid them.

  “You can put your weapons down now, I think,” a voice said from further up the hill. “I don’t think those two will be coming back.”

  They turned to see an Adjurian step out from behind some trees. He was dressed in brown woolen pants and shirt. His jacket and boots appeared to be made from some type of hide and were also a light brown. He had a longbow slung over his right shoulder and a shortsword sheathed at his belt.

  “Who are you?” Pader asked as the man stepped out of the trees toward them.

  “The name’s Jurin Millos,” he said as he approached, meeting each of their eyes. His hair was brown and long, tied in a topknot and spilling down past his shoulders. He was clean shaven, but had many small scars spread around his face and another larger one around his throat where it had obviously been slit sometime in the past. They only added to his mysterious aura. His eyes were small and brown and piercing. He walked right past the men without saying anything else and knelt down next to one of the fallen Jongurians. He grabbed the man’s chin and turned his face toward him, then dug around in the man’s pockets for a minute.

  “Is that really necessary?” Rodden asked him.

  He turned and gave Rodden one of the coldest looks that Bryn had ever seen, then turned back to the man’s pockets. He scattered through some loose coins, looked at a scrap of paper for a moment, then having found nothing of value, he stood up.

  “Necessary, no,” he replied, wiping his hands together. “I was just curious as to who would want you dead is all.”

  “You’re an Adjurian,” Bryn blurted out, then immediately felt silly for stating the obvious.

  The man gave a slight smile as he looked at Bryn. “You’re quick, lad.”

  Halam stepped up toward him and the man tensed. “We thank you for coming to our aid. Those men were too much for us alone.”

  “I could hear that half-a-league off,” he replied, “and could see it as soon as I approached.”

  “Do you know these men?” Halam asked.

  Jurin looked down at the body again for a moment. “Aye. Not personally, but I know who they are.” He looked up at Halam again then passed his gaze over the others. “Tell me, why would Zhou Lao want you men dead?”

  “Zhou Lao? We’ve never heard of the man,” Pader answered.

  “Well, he seems to have heard of you,” Jurin chuckled. “He never sends men to kill unless he has a reason.”

  “We’re sorry, but this is all a bit much,” Halam said after they thought about what the man had said for a minute. “We just fought for our lives and lost one of our friends and a few more of us are injured.”

  “Yes,” Jurin said, seeming to notice Millen crumpled up and laying in a puddle of blood for the first time. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to make it sooner.” He looked over at Pader. “How’s your arm?”

  “I’ll manage,” Pader replied.

  “Will your friends there?” Jurin asked, pointing toward Dilon and Fess.

  “How are you, Fess?” Rodden asked, moving over to look at his leg up close. It had begun bleeding heavily again during the fight.

  “I’m cold,” he replied, his lips quivering.

  “Blood loss,” Jurin said, bending down to take a look at the leg himself. “Looks like the cut is close to the artery.”

  “Dilon’s hurt real bad,” Conn said further away as he crouched down beside the wounded man. The arrow that had struck him was embedded half-way up the shaft in his stomach. Blood was everywhere and Dilon was breathing frantically.

  Jurin looked over at Halam and Pader. “He won’t make it.”

  “Wait a minute,” Pader said, coming up to the man. “We don’t even know who you are. And what is an Adjurian doing in the middle of Jonguria?”

  “I could ask you the same thing,” Jurin replied with a smile.

  “This isn’t funny, people are dying here.”

  “Aye, and more will die if we choose to stand around here getting to know one another better. I suggest that we head out of here and do it fast. Those men won’t be the only ones after you, and once that rider gets back to Zhou, you can be sure that you’ll have a lot more men fast on your heels.”

  “Where should we go?” Halam asked.

  Jurin looked at them all for a long moment, then shook his head, seemingly upset. “I know a place that’s close by that will be safe, but after that I can’t promise anything.”

  “We’d be grateful for whatever assistance you can give us.”

  Jurin looked hard at Halam for another moment before turning and heading back up the hill and into the trees. After a few moments he turned back to them all. “Well, are you coming or not?”

  “Just like that?” Halam asked. “Can’t you give us a minute? We’ve got three wounded men here.”

  “No, just two,” Jurin said, pointing down at Dilon for a moment before turning up the hill. “That one’s dead.”

  TWENTY

  Jurin led them further up the hill. When asked where he was leading them, his only reply was that it was someplace safe and not far away. It was all they could do to fall in behind him and trust what he said. Iago took a look at Pader’s shoulder while they moved. They were lucky that the arrowhead was not barbed and they were able to pull it out, covering and binding the wound as best they could with a length of cloth ripped from one of the raincoats they’d stored in the packs. Jurin wouldn’t allow them time to bury Dilon and Millen, not if they wanted to follow him at least, so they quickly grabbed the bow and sheaf of arrows from Dilon and the dagger that Iago had given Millen before leaving the area. In less than a day they’d already lost three members of their party. How many more would they lose over the next day, Bryn wondered as he looked back at the bodies scattered over the bloody ground.

  Fess groaned less and less as they came down the back side of the hill. His face was growing paler and no matter how they wrapped his leg the blood wouldn’t stop flowing. Conn and Jal picked up and carried the stretcher for a time, keeping the leg elevated as much as possible to see if that would slow the flow of blood, but it did little to help. They had no needle and thread, or they could have stitched up the wound. That knowledge only made the situation more frustrating. If they didn’t get him some help soon he’d not make it through the rest of the day.

  When they reached the top of the hill they were able to get an idea of what lay ahead. All around them on the other side were more hills covered with trees which gradually flattened out into grassy plains that stretched far into the distance.

  “It won’t be mu
ch further now,” Jurin said as he started down.

  “You seem to know this area well,” Pader said from behind him as they began the descent. “How long have you lived around here?”

  “Oh, I’d say for the past ten years or so,” Jurin replied.

  “Ten years in Jonguria, that is something. How did you come to be here in the first place?” Pader continued.

  “The same way that most Adjurians came to be here, the war. When the fighting was done instead of going back, I stayed.”

  “Why would you do that?” Trey asked.

  “There wasn’t much for me for me to go back to in Adjuria,” Jurin replied.

  “But after the war one of the stipulations of the peace treaty was that Adjurians wouldn’t be allowed in Jonguria without permission,” Halam said.

  “Aye, those first few years were a bit tough. Jongurians have long memories, so when they saw me, most often they’d try and attack me. So I took to the forests and the hills rather quickly. Been here ever since.”

  “Where did you fight in the war?” Iago asked. “I was at the Baishur River myself.”

  “There was some heavy fighting there.” Jurin looked over at him. “No, I was a lowly soldier in the king’s army stationed at Bindao. Didn’t see much fighting.”

  “Bindao, that’s where I fought,” Halam said.

  “Aye, and many like you,” Jurin replied, moving further on down the hill.

  Halam frowned at that but kept his mouth shut. Jurin certainly wasn’t much for words, so it wouldn’t do much good to press him.

  Willem broke the silence. “Tell us about this man Zhou…”

  “Zhou Lao,” Jurin finished for him. “He’s trouble.”

  “Well, we know that much already,” Pader said. “But we don’t have any idea who the man is or why he’d want us dead. The only Jongurian we’ve had a face-to-face meeting with while here was a man name Yuan Jibao in Weiling. He claimed to be an imperial official, but flatly refused our requests to renew trade or speak with anyone else. Shortly after that he made it clear that we were to get back on our ship and leave Jonguria immediately.”

  “Trade, eh? That’s what this is all about?” Jurin replied with a slight smile.

  “We were delegates to a trade conference in Baden which met to discuss the possibility of opening up trade relations with Jonguria again,” Halam explained. “It’s been twenty years and most of the country is eager for it. We came up with a plan that a majority of the provinces could agree on, then were sent by the king to present our proposal to an imperial representative in Weiling. We thought that we’d get a more receptive audience than the one we received.”

  “I’ve never been to Weiling and have never heard of this man Yuan, and sure don’t know much about trade,” Jurin replied. “But I do know that what you say is not enough to have Zhou’s men after you.”

  “There is something else,” Bryn said. When they turned to look at him he pressed on. “In Weiling we might have seen Grandon Fray.”

  Jurin stopped and turned to look at Bryn, then the others. “Grandon Fray, eh? Well, that could lead to some trouble now couldn’t it.”

  “Well, we don’t know that for sure,” Pader admitted. “The boy saw a man that looked like an Adjurian that resembled Grandon, that’s all.”

  Jurin continued on down the hill. “Of all you’ve told me, that’s the only thing that might explain why Zhou is hunting you down. If Grandon Fray got off Desolatia and is now in Jonguria, something big is going on. A boy that spotted him in Weiling might be just enough of a concern to him to want you all dead. And in this part of Jonguria if you want someone dead without the emperor knowing about it, you go to Zhou Lao.”

  “Tell us about this man Zhou,” Willem said.

  Jurin took a deep breath. “Where to begin,” he said, pausing a few moments before he spoke. “Zhou was a young peasant when he joined the imperial armies at the start of the war. They sent him to Bindao where he somehow survived the siege. He was part of the force that retook the city for a time before again being pushed out. After that he led a unit that specialized in hit-and-run tactics against the supply wings of the Adjurian army. He was very good and caused a lot of damage.”

  “When the war came to an end Zhou wasn’t quite ready to stop fighting. Lots of hardened fighters were kicked out of the army and told to go back home to their fields. After ten years of fighting you can imagine that didn’t appeal to many of them. There was a lot of anger directed toward the emperor about how the war was waged, especially in the southern provinces. He’d lost a lot of face with the people over how the war with Adjuria turned out. It wasn’t seen as a victory by most people, even though the Adjurian armies had withdrawn. His hold on power was fragile after that, and several attempts were made on his life, including one spectacular military coup that nearly succeeded before the plotters were discovered and put to death. After that it was all that the emperor could do to secure his areas of power in the north.”

  “We had no idea it was that bad in Jonguria following the war,” Pader said.

  “I’m not surprised,” Jurin said. “It’s not the kind of news the emperor would want known.”

  “Then what happened?” Bryn asked eagerly.

  “Well, let’s see,” Jurin said, thinking for a few moments. “Many of the disgruntled soldiers who suddenly had nothing to do and a lot of time to do it in formed into rebel groups which opposed the imperial government. But in reality they spent most of their time terrorizing the countryside. For the past ten years large areas of the south have largely been controlled by one rebel group or another. Most often they fight against one another more than they fight against the emperor, but lately their attacks against each other have lessened while their cooperation in concerted attacks on the government have increased. It’s as though there’s some kind of new leadership binding them together,” Jurin said.

  “This man Zhou,” Willem said.

  Jurin said nothing, just kept walking down the hill.

  “So you think that this man Zhou was tasked by Grandon Fray to kill us before we made it back to Adjuria to report that we think the boy in our group may have spotted the False King? I’m sorry,” Pader chuckled, “but it just seems a little far-fetched to me.”

  “That may be,” Jurin replied, “but we know that it’ Zhou’s men that you killed back there. You see, each rebel group marks itself in some way, sort of like a badge of honor to identify them to the people. Those back there had the striking snake mark of Zhou branded onto their horses.”

  “Maybe some other men had stolen those horses,” Flint said.

  “Highly unlikely,” Jurin replied. “No, you have Zhou after you. And he won’t stop until you’re dead, that’s for certain. Now that you’ve killed four of his men, he’ll hunt you all the way into Adjuria if he has to.”

  “Five,” Rodden said quietly, “we’ve killed five. Another man we killed last night in their camp.”

  “Five then, it makes no difference. If you kill one of Zhou’s men, he will hunt you down. He’s very protective of his men and because of that they are very loyal to him. He’s one of the fiercest of the rebel leaders, but also one of the most respected.”

  “Is there any way that we could reason with the man?” Halam asked.

  Jurin laughed a deep throaty laugh. “No, no chance of that, I’m afraid. Zhou never negotiates. He saw what negotiations brought Jonguria after the war, nothing but despair for the majority of the people and a government that is more mistrustful of any perceived threat to its power than ever.”

  “So what are we to do then?” Willem asked.

  “You’re best bet is to somehow get back to Adjuria before Zhou catches up with you. Catching a ship out of Bindao is out of the question; most in that city are loyal to Zhou and word’ll have already spread that he’s looking for a group of Adjurians. You could try to make it to a northern port, but most likely you’d just run into some northern warlord and have the same problems. Your best
bet lies west toward Waigo. That city still firmly supports the emperor and stays out of all regional politics, much like your province of Ithmia and the city of Fadurk. It just may be possible that you can find a reasonable voice there to help you. Wen will know more about that.”

  “Wen?” Halam asked.

  “Wen Wubai,” Jurin replied. “He’s the man I’m taking you to now. He helped me out when I was in a similar situation ten years ago. We’ve had a bit of a falling out since then, and I haven’t seen him in several years, so I can’ be sure.”

  “Any help you or he can give us we’ll kindly take,” Halam replied. “You’ve already done more than enough by helping us out back there. Thank you.”

  Jurin gave a slight nod over his shoulder then moved down the hill. Bryn’s head was awhirl with all that Jurin had said. Like most Adjurians, he had no idea that the emperor was so weakened following the war. None of this news had ever reached past the Isthmus, and the idea that there were rebel groups and warlords that virtually controlled large areas of the country came as a big surprise to him. Of greatest concern, however, was this man Zhou Lao. From what Jurin had told them, this was a man that you did not want to anger. They’d already done that by killing five of his men. Bryn took some small satisfaction knowing that they’d killed two more of his than he had of theirs, but then he quickly thought that they were now eleven when they had been fifteen just two days before. The way Jurin talked, after another few days they might all be dead. If only he hadn’t spotted Grandon Fray, or the man that he at least thought was Grandon Fray. It was becoming more and more likely as events unfolded, however, that the man he saw was actually the False King, freed somehow from his exile on Desolatia. All of their troubles seemed to be stemming from that one brief moment and for more times than he could now count Bryn wished again that he had never left Eston.