Chapter Twenty-Nine

 

Mithrais and Deirdre alternated point with one of the wardens at the rear of the procession.

The other scouted ahead of them, and prior to their arrival, surveyed each curve, each thick copse of brush and vegetation that could be used to hide an ambush. The trees thinned near midmorning, where the gentle roll of the eastern road stretched into a flat, dusty line rutted with wheel tracks. They stopped and rested the horses there. The Wood behind them lacked the usual cacophony of birdsong. There had been no word yet from Colm regarding Eirion’s position. The uncomfortable silence that had gripped the royal party since their departure began to lift. Mithrais stayed on guard at the rear of the party until they moved once more.

The green canopy overhead parted and became patched with sunlight. At last, the sky was all that stretched before them; the dark fringe of the Wood left behind. Mithrais did not have the time or the opportunity to look back, his attention required on the road ahead.

This point marked the absence of the Gwaith’orn and their resonance. Less than an hour outside on the plains, it became a keen absence in his heartspeaking senses. A lifetime of immersion had desensitized him to the constant murmur of the trees. Here in the open, its loss left his mind seeking something that didn’t exist. The wardens exchanged uneasy glances in this strange, unfamiliar environment.

Mithrais caught the heavy scent of burning in the air even before the scout came back. He reported a charred heap of wood and wheels lying in the road. Deirdre and the scout went ahead, alert for trouble. Mithrais called a halt, falling back to consult Prince Keir and his guards.

“Is this where you were attacked?”

“No.” Keir shook his head as Deirdre and the other warden examined the smoldering pile. “We were set upon not far ahead, just over the rise of the next hill.” He began to raise his arm to point, but Mithrais stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

“I think we’re being observed. Let’s not give them any idea we know about the wreck on the other side. Be vigilant.” Mithrais made a silent motion to Telyn and the warden at the rear of the party to scan the perimeters of the road from their current positions.

“Mithrais.” Deirdre’s voice carried to him and she beckoned with her blade. He crouched beside her where she sifted through the still-warm ashes with the tip of her long dagger.

“I know this man by his wares. He came through the outpost yesterday.” Wide-bellied pottery, blackened and shattered, lay in the wreckage, and the scent of burnt oil hung over it. Deirdre lifted a charred plank, once part of the cart’s bed, and revealed a badly burned corpse beneath it. She expelled a harsh breath. “Why attack the potter? He would have nothing of great value. It’s unlikely he would be carrying more than a few pieces of silver even after the market.”

King Amorion joined them as his guards kept a wary eye on the horizon. “What happened here?”

“I suspect this fire mage is testing his new talents on anyone who comes by.” Mithrais glanced at the surroundings and found charred spots where the roadside grass had been too green and wet to burn thoroughly. “He doesn’t have any control over it. He missed an unguarded wagon three times.”

“The pony appears to have escaped or was taken. The potter carried oil in some of the jars, probably traded for his wares.” Deirdre stood, slid her dagger into the sheath with a rough movement, and then wiped her hands on her thighs. “A badly aimed shot very likely set it—and him—ablaze. Poor fellow.” She raised her voice, “How many?”

The scout kneeling in the road ahead looked back at them. “Six on mounts. At least three more on foot.” He jerked his head over his shoulder toward the next hill. “They went that way.”

“We should attend to the body.” Amorion began to give orders, but Deirdre stopped him.

“A barricade in the road is a tactic used to slow down parties they wish to plunder. We have another night to camp and don’t have the luxury to attend to him properly now. We will move him off the road, and on the way back we shall attend to him,” Deirdre promised the King.

With the help of a few of the guards, they tilted the smoking wreckage to the side of the road. The potter’s body was wrapped in canvas from one of the wagons and placed beneath it. In the charred wood, Deirdre etched with her dagger the Tauron’s sigil: a circle within a circle, broken by compass points.

Mithrais stood on the bench seat of Telyn’s wagon and scanned the terrain while Deirdre and the guards worked. He remained certain they were being watched. An unpleasant prickle at the back of his senses would not allow his mind ease. The waving grassland held a different sort of cover than the bracken and dense groves of the Wood, everything set in motion by the unceasing wind. It was impossible to read. At some spots in the road, the grass stood head high on either side of the sunken track. Clusters of short, brushy trees were perfect cover in which to hide.

“Be on your guard,” he said to Telyn and Emrys before they pressed on. “Plains warfare isn’t our expertise. If you see anything out of the ordinary, alert one of us.”

The older bard moved from his cushioned nest in the rear seat to the opposite side, in order to look backwards out of the open brougham. Telyn unslung the harp case from her saddle and put it in the carriage in preparation for a skirmish. Mithrais reached for magic as he resumed his position and received a comforting surge in response. That much, at least, appeared to be unchanged despite the absence of the resonance.

The party moved forward at an unhurried pace. Their scout vanished into the grassland to investigate the other side of the rise.

“I don’t like this.” Deirdre glanced at Mithrais once before she turned her attention to the road before them. “They have us trapped in this rut. Even so, it feels too open and exposed without the trees.”

“Have you ever been this far outside the Wood before?”

“Never. You?”

“In Rothvori, but it’s not far outside the Western Ward. Never on the plains.”

“I begin to wonder if Prince Keir isn’t right.” Deirdre glanced over her shoulder. “Perhaps they should spirit the King out of harm’s way if an attack comes. We’ve received no word from Colm about Eirion.”

“I think your plan is a sound one. If the bandits are truly nine in number, we are better matched in fighting strength as a group.”

“And if Eirion comes, there are more of us to go through before he reaches the King.” Deirdre’s crisp tone betrayed her irritation. “I don’t like being considered expendable.”

Silence hung between them for a moment. “I don’t believe King Amorion considers us expendable.”

“He may not at this moment. We’re his best hope of reaching Belenus unmolested. But we are in over our heads, Mithrais. We belong in the Wood.”

A hundred yards before they reached the rise in the road, the sharp trill of birdsong brought Mithrais’ head up sharply. Deirdre stopped short, and Mithrais made a quick motion for the party to stop. Both officers nocked arrows to their bows and held them ready to draw as the train rattled to a stop behind them. Another call heralded the scout’s emergence from the tall grass.

“A burned wagon, perhaps fifty yards past the crest of the hill. They’ve turned it sideways in the road. Eight men on horses and a dozen more on foot just waiting for us.”

“What happened to nine?” grumbled the captain of the King’s guard.

“They brought in reinforcements.” Deirdre glanced at the King. “They’re canny thieves, I’ll give them that. The other blockade gave them time to meet our number.”

“Archers?” Mithrais asked.

“None I could see. There is a little cover at the top of the hill with trees on either side, but the road flattens out beyond.”

“Defense?” Amorion shifted in his saddle. Mithrais and Deirdre exchanged a silent accord.

“Offense,” the Eastwarden said boldly. “They’re counting on us to be trapped in the road, unable to turn around, so we meet them head on. They’ve been watching us for some time now. They know we’re Tauron, and there’s no element of surprise. We’ll keep our current positions but draw steel and show them how many trained soldiers we have. If they haven’t yet thought twice about detaining us, it may persuade them.”

“We do have one element of surprise.” Prince Keir met Mithrais’ eyes with a pointed glance. “They don’t know we have magic on our side as well.”

“I will bring it into play as defense if necessary.” Mithrais emphasized the defining word. “I have some spells in mind I hope will give them pause.”

“They have to be aware they might face Tauron judgment.” Telyn spoke up and maneuvered Bessa closer to the front of the line. “I can enhance this fear and perhaps scatter some of them before we even reach the blockade, but I have to be up front in order not to affect the rest of you.”

The King’s brow furrowed with concern. “You’ll be unprotected.”

“None of them will want to approach—trust me.” Telyn retrieved her small pipes from the saddlebag. “Just watch for the fire mage, please.”

“How much space do you need? I can shield you as long as we’re not too far behind,” Mithrais offered, but Telyn refused. She fastened the strap of the bellows around her waist.

“I need at least twenty yards but if you shield in front of me, the magic won’t advance. I’ll be fine if you give me cover.” She clucked at Bessa, and the horse carried her forward. He raised a hand when she passed, and Telyn met it with her own. Their fingers brushed and separated as Bessa broke into a trot.

“Ah...I’m sorry to interrupt battle plans, but...” Emrys’ voice carried up front. Mithrais turned. Emrys pointed westward with his good hand. “Is that the sign you were waiting for?”

A tall dust devil spun in the road, debris caught in its whirling vortex—Colm’s work, without a doubt. It followed the track in the road unerringly against a steady wind from the south. Deirdre muttered an oath under her breath. Mithrais drew a sigh of resignation. All they needed was for Eirion to show himself now.

“Cover Telyn. I’ll see what Colm has to say.” He sprinted past the rear of the train to meet the whirlwind and let it envelop him. Magic whipped his clothing and hair in its passage. Inside the condensed tempest, an echo of Colm’s voice spoke three words in an urgent whisper, and his heart fell.

Eirion. Midmorning. Casualties.

Its purpose fulfilled, the sorcerous wind dissipated. He glanced at the sun, perhaps two hours past midday now. With no time to dwell on what might have happened at the outpost, he barked orders to the guards to remember they faced danger from the rear as well. The King gave him a questioning look. Mithrais nodded once in grim affirmation, and he reclaimed his place at the front of the line.

In the road ahead, Telyn’s mare came to a halt, and the faint notes from her pipes rose. Even from this distance, the spell she wove with her song magic stirred the hair on the back of his neck.

“If Telyn can’t frighten them, what’s coming might,” he muttered to Deirdre. He kept the somber news of casualties to himself for now.

“So we have Eirion on our tail as well? Wonderful.” Deirdre’s lips tightened, and she pointed to the crest of the rise. “Look. They’re impatient.”

Horsemen now topped the rise in the road. Unsheathed steel glittered in the sunlight. Four spanned the track, and two of the riders urged their mounts up both sides of the grassy verge above the ruts. Behind them ranged a group of men armed with clubs and staves. These men stood their ground and waited.

“They intend to flank us.” The captain of the guard barked an order to the four soldiers not immediately guarding the King to engage the riders, but Mithrais held up a hand.

“Give Telyn time to do her work. They’re in her range now.”

The Tauron Wardens assembled and took high ground above the track to either side of the road with arrows ready to loose. The royal bodyguards drew closer around their King, steel naked and gleaming. Those charged with the protection of the rest of the train fanned out. Even the King and Prince Keir drew their blades. Mithrais watched the horses gallop toward Telyn and Bessa. He fitted an arrow to the string of his bow and took aim.