A mile southwest of the clump of pine trees where Misty had hidden and watched the wagon roll south, the ground either side of the road changed from dry and arid, with large bare patches of dirt to springy, grass covered ground.
Wheel tracks of a heavily laden wagon veered left off the dirt road yards before a deep rut. The deep rut would topple a wagon unlucky enough to drive into it. Crushed grass stalks showed where the wagon rolled back onto the track two yards past the wheel ruts.
He was getting close to the low lying marshlands. Or the area had a lot of rain over the past month.
Swift turned onto a westward track that lead to a low sun bleached and rotting wood planked bridge, built over three wide rock pillars. He had reached the Ern river.
Both sets of hoofs sounded loud as they carefully walked close to the left edge of the wooden planks.
Dallas heaved a sigh of relief when Swift stepped off the wooden bridge back onto solid ground. He was now in Mireland.
Dart also heaved a sigh when his mount stepped back onto firm ground. “Hope we don’t return this way,” Dart commented. “I would rather ford the river up in the wastelands.”
Dallas silently agreed. The bridge would not last much longer. He guessed it would be destroyed in the next spring floods, if not before.
Sweetie’s track crossed the wagon tracks another three yards down the road, before the wagon left the road a mile later. He guessed they skirted the low incline that blocked his view west.
He guided Swift up the incline so he could study the lay of the land.
At the top of the incline he realised why Misty and Sweetie left the road. There was no cover either side of the road. Instead, he had a clear view for miles both west and south. The only place available to hide horses, or the wagon, was under wide spreading branches on thick oak trunks growing on every third or forth hillock.
Rolling hills hindered his view north, but in all directions the landscape was filled with green hillocks topped with one or more oak trees, spreading their branches over each hillock. The ground at the base of each hillock grew long green grass mixed with reeds. He was looking at the start of the marshes in the northern tip of Mireland.
He could not understand why the slavers would attempt to take a wagon load of captives through Mireland’s northern marshlands where the wagon could become bogged every few miles. It made more sense to keep moving south on Morecrag’s side of the Ern river. Easier going on the elevated ground, well out of reach of boggy marshlands.
“I guess we are now in Mireland,” Dart whispered.
“Keep alert.” Dallas scanned both sides of the road, looking for movement.
The rising humidity caused him to sweat, so he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand before the moisture dripped into his eyes.
The very slight breeze carried the odours of rotting grass and moist earth. Insects hummed in the distance. Yellow winged birds called out as they flew west.
A flock of sheep grazed three hillocks over on the north western side of the track. They were too far away to locate a shepherd’s campsite or building.
He checked the direction of the smoke he noticed earlier. It still rose above the trees about a mile south. The slight breeze pushed the smoke west before it dissipated.
He had at least one more hour of sunlight and another hour of twilight to check the camp site before darkness descended. He hoped by then he would be close enough to the camp to settle in and wait for full darkness to attempt a rescue.
Torn between following the road to reach the camp fire in the next ten or fifteen minutes, or following Sweetie’s tracks, Dallas stopped Swift. He frowned while he thought.
If Misty watched the camp he would locate both her and Sweetie soon enough if he followed Sweetie’s tracks. And she must have had a reason to turn away from the road.
If he located Misty, they had better odds of killing the slavers, than if just Dart and Dallas attacked.
Or ride direct to the camp, hoping the slavers did not see them approaching.
He made up his mind. “Follow Sweetie’s tracks,” he told Swift.
Swift trotted back down the incline to where Sweetie’s tracks left the road. She pricked her ears forward, dropped her head to smell Sweetie’s ichur residue, then raised her head and trotted south, keeping below the crest of the hill.
Dart kept glancing west, watching the rising smoke.
Dallas realised Sweetie’s tracks moved closer to the camp fire, but remained out of sight of the hillock where he hoped the slavers camped.
Swift led them behind another slight rise with two saplings next to one larger tree. The small hillock blocked their view of the campfire.
“Why go this way? We are not getting closer to the fire.” Dart kept rising in the saddle to see the smoke plume.
“Keep your head down.” Dallas warned Dart. “I am hoping to get closer without being seen.”
Dart settled back in his saddle, then slipped his bow off his shoulder and tightened the strings.
“Hope we won’t need arrows just yet.” Dallas kept searching for Misty and Sweetie in the shade under each oak tree, but could not see them.
Swift finally stopped at the base of a small hillock where three medium sized oaks spread their intertwining branches. Mud covered her legs but he did not have time to rub her down. And there was no point, not until they left the marshland on the ride home.
“Wait here.” Dallas dismounted and walked up the slope, holding his staff ready, prepared for an attack. Swift kept pace, even though she was tired from the continuous travelling.
Movement in the middle of the three oak trees warned him of at least one horse. “Sweetie?”
Sweetie walked out of the shade, ears pricked forward, watching Dallas.
Relief flooded his veins and he dropped to his knees. Who else would it be! Of course it was Sweetie.
“About time you arrived.” Misty stepped out from behind the largest trunk, but remained in the shade. “I left enough clues for you to follow.”
Dallas studied Misty’s face. Her smile reached her eyes, which led him to believe she was pleased he arrived. Her black clothes were dusty, but other than that she seemed healthy.
“Delayed rescuing some runaways.” Dallas turned and waved to Dart. “Only got one volunteer to cross the border with me.”
“Hurry into the shade before you are seen.” Misty walked back behind the tree trunk.
Dallas followed, leaving Swift to talk to Sweetie.
Once he entered the shade he realised why Misty selected that hillock.
She could look directly at the camp site. The wagon dropped at the front where one wheel was missing. He located the wheel next to the camp fire. One short male seemed to be removing or replacing spokes.
Across the camp fire two more males reclined in the shade.
Dallas dropped to the ground and crawled forward under the low hanging branches to study the layout of the camp.
Misty moved closer and whispered. “Two more males on watch, there,” she pointed directly west, “and next to the horses.”
The horses were tied to a rope line stretched between branches on the south side of the tree. After checking the rest of the area, not blocked by the overhanding branches, he studied the captives.
The females sat in a circle, protecting the children. He recognised Nellie, daughter of the old Jeb, hugging her daughter, Rammie.
Next to her slumped May, Jeb’s oldest son’s wife. He had met William’s wife the last time he visited the shepherd’s croft. Her daughter, Esmay, had her arm around her mother.
The third woman had to be Eloise, Bert’s wife, but he had never met her, so was not sure. She too hugged a small girl, but Dallas only knew she had a son, Kurt.
“Kurt is gathering kindling over there,” Misty pointed to the next hillock to the north west from where the camp fire blazed.
“Who is the child Eloise is hugging?”
Misty smiled. “Christie. She told me she was two years old last week.”
Dart finished staking his horse on the east side of the hillock, out of sight of the slavers. “Plenty of green pick for all the horses.” He crawled close to Dallas and studied the surroundings. “Only three males?”
“Dart, meet Misty. She will help us attack the slavers.”
Dallas waited for Dart to greet Misty before he answered Dart’s question. “No, five.” Dallas pointed out the two slavers on watch duty. “One boy, Kurt, is collecting wood for the fire over there.”
When Dart located Kurt on the next hillock collecting dropped twigs, he nodded. “Better to wait for the boy to return before we rescue them.”
“No. Better to wait until the wheel is reattached to the wagon. We need it to take the captives back north.” Misty’s eyes twinkled in the orange glow of the setting sun.
Dallas could not believe how relieved he was to finally catch up to Misty. And his heart swelled with pride at her ability to track the slavers without them knowing. Then he remembered, they did know. “Misty, one of the slavers works for Mage Crompton and knows you are following.”
Misty shook her head. “No, he doesn’t know I am following, but he is hoping I am following, because he turns to check the horizon for a glimpse of me every time his horse reaches elevated ground.” She smiled gently. “I recognised him when they first attacked, scattering the sheep. He killed Bert. If I was closer, he would have felt one of my stars slice his neck.” She sighed. “As it was, I got some of the others before they fled. Is William dead, too?”
“Olly died from an arrow in his back. Bert was only knocked unconscious. I didn’t wait to check the others, because I found two slaver’s dead, with slit throats. I realised you were very much alive and following the slavers.” Dallas rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. “Best you both get some rest until after sunset.”
“Food would be welcome, if you have any.” Misty smiled at Dart.
“Yes, mistress.” He sprang up and hurried off to fetch his saddlebags.
“Stop teasing him.” Dallas kept his eyes shut, but smiled at Misty.
She giggled. “I am lucky I was carrying our food in my saddlebags. When you didn’t catch up the first night, I decided to keep eating the stores, while following them. That way I would not lose their tracks. And I realised you could magically cause a bird to drop into my hands once you arrived.”
“Sensible decision.” Dallas opened his eyes. “Still falling off Sweetie?”
“No. She is intelligent, you know. I put the saddle on in the mornings while she turns her head to watch. Than I ask her to shake. That way, if the saddle girth is too loose, the saddle will slip and I know to tighten it some more before mounting. I only landed on my head once.” Misty shook her head. “Poor Sweetie. She looked so worried with the saddle against her belly and me upside down on the ground.” She giggled again.
It was music to his ears. “Yes, all trackers are intelligent.” He was disappointed she could not see Sweetie’s images in her mind, but she seemed to be communicating with Sweetie well enough without the added advantage of images.
“Still wearing your bangle?”
“Yes.” She held up her arm. “You spelled it?”
He nodded.
“I thought so.” Misty looked at the bangle on her arm. “When they first attacked, one arrow dropped at my feet. I was busy killing another male, so did not realise. But, right before I killed the one who tried to capture Sweetie, just before we crossed into Mireland, he stabbed at me with his knife. I don’t know what happened, but when the knife was six inches from my shoulder, he dropped it. I took advantage of his carelessness and killed him.” She shrugged. “It was after that I noticed one of the larger pearls looked duller than the others. Then I noticed one of the smaller ones was also duller.”
“Good. It works.” Dallas heard Dart cough. “Don’t mention it to anyone.”
She lowered her voice. “First, I thought you were using the bangle to track me, in case I just kept riding away.” She did not smile.
Dallas waited.
“Then when the knife dropped at my feet instead of stabbing me, I decided it was a protection talisman.” Misty sighed. “You have been honest with me, so I will be honest with you. If I decide to leave, I will tell you first. If you stop me, then I will be a slave, not free, like you said.”
“You are free, to stay or go.” Dallas studied Misty. “I want you to stay, but only if you want to stay.”
Misty maintained eye contact and nodded slowly.
A twig snapped. Misty watched Dart carry two saddlebags into the shade.
Dart passed one saddlebag to Misty before he placed the second on the ground and sat. “What will we do with the horses after dark? I was thinking we should take them with us, in case we need to mount and chase down the slavers if they run.”
“Not your mount,” Misty said. “Not trained to wait where you tell her.”
“Him.” Dart looked at Dallas then back at Misty. “He is a gelding.”
“Him.” Misty looked at Dallas. “Leave him here?”
“Best to take him with us.” Dallas sighed. “Like Dart said, not good being over here waiting if we need him at the next hillock.”
“I will walk up to the slaver’s horses first, while you both wait. When I deal with the closest lookout, I can release the horses. They will gallop away. That will be your signal to rush the males.” Misty tapped one of her throwing stars attached to her belt with the knuckles of her hand that held a chunk of bread. She lifted a paper wrapped package out of the saddlebags with her free hand and rested it on her knee while she unwrapped it. When she discovered thin slices of mutton, she placed two pieces on the bread. She sighed as she smelled the mutton. “Fresh.” She bit into her sandwich.
“No, better to cut their throats while they are sleeping. Then use the horses for the captives.” Dart settled on the ground next to Misty and waited for her to distribute the food.
When Misty realised what Dart was waiting for, she frowned and snapped, “I am not a slave. Make your own snack.”
* * *
Dallas came awake when Misty gently brushed her hand against the scar on his shoulder. “Time?”
There was a faint glow of orange and pink just above the western horizon. Dallas realised the sun had set at least thirty minutes earlier and backlit the clouds near the horizon.
“Almost,” she whispered back.
“Dart?”
“Saddling his horse.” Misty looked over to the next hillock when the fire flared. “Idiots! If they keep the fire burning that brightly, they won’t be able to see their surroundings.”
“Good!” Dallas struggled to his feet, still groggy from sleep. “They won’t see us approaching.”
“They will when we are close and the fire light reflects off our faces.”
“Got everything?” Dallas could not see the ground under the overhanging branches so trusted Misty attached the saddlebags to the saddles earlier. “Move over to Sweetie and Swift.”
Misty saw better in the dark than Dallas. He stumbled over uneven ground, but once out from under the branches, there was still enough starlight to see Swift and Sweetie, both waiting beside Dart and his mount.
“Silent from now on!”