'You know what we must do.' Gefren looked around his men. Dancal and Ostin, the scouts who'd arrived with Corrain, were already on the verge of departing while Hosh was still struggling to roll up his blankets. Gefren's gaunt face grew still grimmer. 'You already know that we've been betrayed. May all the gods watch over you. I pray we'll meet at Lord Halferan's gate.'
'Or we'll see each other before Saedrin's door to the Otherworld,' Hosh muttered bleakly.
'Forewarned is forearmed--' Corrain rebuked him.
Gefren spoke over him. 'Our lives will be well spent if we save our lord and our families with our deaths.' He accepted the reins of his own horse from Elkan and mounted swiftly. 'Corrain, you can wait and take Hosh with you. Bair, go with Serde instead.'
Without a glance for those left behind, the captain kicked the restive bay gelding into a gallop for the track. Avayan, Narich and Elkan followed close behind. Reaching the pale scar in the grassland, all four men turned their horses to the south.
'We're away.' Dancal clicked his tongue and his dun horse obediently pricked up its ears. Ostin rode away beside him, stirrup to stirrup. When they reached the track, they lashed their beasts into a headlong gallop for the north. Bair and Serde followed swiftly, Treche and Unlil scant moments behind them, all heading northward.
That left Corrain, still up on his horse, thin-lipped and tight-faced as he waited for Hosh to finally secure his pack to his saddle.
'You've no call to scowl at me.' The youth looked up, sullen. 'None of my doing brought you back down the ladder to ride as a common trooper.'
'Believe me, I've learned my lesson,' Corrain said with a humourless smile. 'The next time I get drunk and seduce my lord's steward's wife, I'll make sure the old cuckold is out of town.'
* * *
The track curved inland to join a lane long hollowed out by the remorseless tread of sheep and cattle. Dancal and Ostin's horses' hooves echoed noisily between the thorny banks. The storm from the sea pursued them, finally breaking over their heads as they left the lane for a wider road cutting between freshly hedged fields. The road was deeply rutted with wagon tracks and edged with intermittent coppices venturing their first pale spring leaves. There was no one to be seen in either woodland or pasture.
The riders didn't pause as cold rain hammered down on their heads. They only slowed leagues later when their horses threatened to stumble from weariness, as ruts dissolved into muddy puddles beneath their hooves.
'We get fresh horses at the next coaching inn.' The grey wool of Dancal's cloak, his leather jerkin and the padded tunic beneath were all sodden. 'Hire them or steal them, whatever it takes.'
'We want two each.' Ostin swiped at trickles of rain running down from the knitted cap pulled low to tame his black curls. 'So we've remounts to hand.'
As Dancal considered this, his horse took the opportunity to slow and halt. 'No.' He shook his head decisively, urging the unwilling horse onwards with his boot heels. 'A horse on a lead rein will slow us, and they won't be fresh when we need new beasts.'
'What if we're ten leagues from nowhere when the new horses founder?' Ostin protested.
'I said no.' Dancal slapped at his horse's neck, dark mane clinging in ratty tails. He pointed to a crossroads marked by a gibbet and a fingerpost. 'Look, there's the high road. Let's be the first to win Lord Halferan's gratitude.'
He used his short blunt spurs to force a reluctant canter from his horse. Ostin slapped a token loop of rein across his own mount's shoulders. The beast strove to catch its stable mate but a substantial gap stretched between them as Dancal reached the high road.
Ostin was wiping at rain trickling into his eyes again when Dancal's horse screamed. The curly-headed man gaped as muddy figures scrambled out of deep ditches cut to catch the rain running off the hardened road. His own horse halted, shivering and unnerved.
The first attacker seized Dancal's bridle, gripping either side of the foam-slimed bit. Dancal couldn't reach him with his sword without decapitating his horse.
'Behind you!' Ostin screeched a vain warning as three more men assailed the bay's flanks. Greedy hands grabbed at Dancal, wrenching him from the saddle. He fell amid jostling bodies.
Ostin saw dull steel plain in their upraised fists. He hacked at his horse's muddied ribs with merciless heels, sobbing with fear and frustration. 'Shift you bastard--'
He coughed, his words cut short. He frowned at the bloodied head of a broad-bladed arrow protruding from his breast. As he tried to protest, only scarlet foam bubbled from his mouth. The reins slipped from his numbed hands as the weary horse shifted its footing. Ostin fell sideways, helpless. He landed with a splash on the puddled road, gasping a last futile breath.
* * *
Dusk was falling when Bair and Serde reached an inn. They'd taken a road that cut inland rather than following the coast. The rain was long enough past that their clothes were now merely damp instead of soaked but that still left them vulnerable to the deepening cold. As they rode into the yard, a stable door opened, spilling out a golden glow. Catching the scent of hay and companionship, Bair's horse lifted its head and quickened its pace. Serde's chestnut whickered cheerfully, misty breath glistening in the lamplight.
'We stay close together, and close-mouthed,' Serde said quietly as he dismounted. 'We eat what's offered, get warm at the fire and go to our bed.'
'If someone asks our business?' Bair raised a friendly hand as an ostler appeared in the entrance to the stable.
'We say it's none of theirs.' Serde slung his saddlebag over one shoulder.
'I'll get the boy.' The ostler hurried across the yard to disappear through the back door of the inn.
'We'll see to our own horses,' Serde called after him, irritated.
The only answer was the slam of the solid oak.
'Do you reckon they'll give us a meal in return for these rabbits for their pot?' As Bair slid down from his saddle, he prodded the bundle of linen blotched with darkened crimson. He chuckled. 'Do you reckon some scullery maid might spread her legs for them?'
'The only person you're sharing a bed with is me.' Serde led his chestnut horse into the stable.
Bair followed him with a gap-toothed grin. 'I'll kick you if you snore.'
Half a dozen horses were already in the stalls, straw deep around their hocks. Nets of hay were hung and their harness was racked tidily.
'The grooms here know their business.' Bair patted a black cob's questioning nose as he relieved his own horse of its burdens in the stall beside it.
'We should ask if they've any horses for hire.' Letting his gear fall to the dusty floor, Serde lifted the saddle flap to unbuckle his mount's girth. He bent to brush away mud and sweat crusted on the chestnut's belly.
'You can rest and get your strength back.' Bair grinned as he slid the bridle off his horse's ears. The animal lipped his hand in search of some treat.
'Where's that lad we were promised?' Serde straightened up.
A man sitting motionless in the shadow behind the door sprang forward, his short sword menacing. As Serde and Bair swore, each reaching for their own blades, the trap door to the hayloft above flew open. Two men dropped onto a waiting heap of straw, naked steel in their hands.
One stumbled on landing. Serde was on him, his sword cutting a gleaming arc in the lamplight. But a fourth enemy erupted from the empty stall where he'd lurked beneath soiled litter. He caught Serde's descending forearm with one metal-gauntleted hand. Serde's fingers were numbed by the brutal collision and he dropped his blade. The attacker drove the long dagger in his other hand deep into the horseman's belly. They stood, pressed close as lovers. Serde looked into the man's dark eyes, astonishment momentarily outweighing his agony. Then his killer ripped the blade sideways, spilling out Serde's life with his entrails.
Bair had taken a mortal blow. The man hidden behind the door had hacked a deep gash between his neck and shoulder. Bair collapsed to his knees, feebly thrusting his sword at the men who'd dropped from the hayloft. The first attacker knocked his weapon aside with a contemptuous gauntlet and kicked Bair full in the chest with a steel-bound boot. Bair fell backwards, his legs twisted painfully beneath his burly body.
The booted man bent to make certain Bair was beyond feeling such discomfort. He looked at the man who'd gutted Serde, raising his brows in silent question. The man was cleaning his blade on the dead horseman's cloak. He nodded in confirmation.
The attackers retrieved their horses from the stalls. Once the booted man had saddled his own black cob, he hung a leather bag of money from the bridle hook before silently leading the killers out into the night.
Within the stable the remaining horses stirred restlessly at the disquieting scent of blood. Dulling slowly, the ruby flow from Bair's neck seeped into the bloodstained linen wrapping the butchered rabbits.
* * *
Hosh moaned beneath his blankets. 'Cock crow?'
'Go back to sleep.' Corrian said quietly.
'Why are you up?' Roused, Hosh fought free of his bedding.
'I'm going on alone.' Corrain was by the door to the attic room, already dressed in his creased clothes. Stubble darkened his lean face.
Hosh sat upright, blankets slipping. 'We're supposed to stay together. The captain said--' He shivered, his grimy shirt inadequate protection in the dawn chill.
'You can't keep your mouth shut.' Corrain leaned against the thin plank door as he pulled a boot on. 'Get your own throat cut and see if I care, but you won't take me to face Saedrin alongside you.'
'Go kiss a pig's arse.' Hosh's youthful face turned ugly with anger. 'We're to stay together so my lord knows each man stays honest. Anyway, what did I do?'
'Besides trying to impress that ale-wench with your boasting about being Lord Halferan's trusted envoy?' Corrain queried with acid contempt.
'I was explaining why we're travelling together and why you were insisting we have a room to ourselves.' A furious flush rose from Hosh's creased collar. 'Half the taproom were guessing you were renting my arse.'
'As long as they don't guess our real business, who cares.' Corrain paused as he buckled his long boots at the knee. 'But can you keep your mouth shut if I leave you behind?' he mused, staring at the boy.
'About the wizard?' Hosh swung his feet out from under the frowsty blankets.
'Apparently not.' Grabbing his shoulder, Corrain hauled the youth off the low bed, dumping him on the floor.
'Hey!' Hosh sat on the bare boards, bemused, gooseflesh prickling his naked thighs.
'You've been complaining how tired you are.' Corrain plucked Hosh's belt from the heap of breeches and jerkin at the end of the bed. 'You can spend a few days here catching up on your rest.'
'You want to leave me behind because you're the traitor!' Hosh grabbed for a muddy boot and threw it full at Corrain's head. The lean man dodged easily and the boot thudded against the cracked plaster. Hosh scrambled to his feet. 'Now you want to make a run for it, back to your filthy paymaster.'
'Say that again and I'll cut out your tongue.' Corrain scowled blackly, slipping the tongue of the belt through the buckle to make a noose.
'They'll hunt you.' Hosh's voice cracked with terror. 'You can't get rid of a body that easily.'
He couldn't escape the taller man in the confines of the cramped room. Corrain feigned a grab at Hosh's sword hand. As the youth recoiled, Corrain punched him deftly in the side of the jaw, hard enough to knock him sprawling on his belly on the bed. Before Hosh could gather his wits let alone regain his feet, Corrain was straddling him. He pushed the boy's beardless face into the lumpy mattress.
'I'm leaving you here.' He bent down to speak close to Hosh's ear, low and menacing. 'You have a choice. Keep your mouth shut, and don't say a word, whatever happens, whatever you're accused of. Then you'll probably live until I come back to get you. Whine like a whipped cur, telling everyone our business and you'll probably get your throat cut. If they don't hang you first just to shut your noise.'
'Traitor--' Whatever else the lad tried to say was lost as Corrain pushed his face deeper into the bed.
Holding Hosh immobile with his muscular thighs, the saturnine swordsman clamped his strong long-fingered hands around the boy's pimply neck. Hosh struggled briefly before going utterly limp. Corrain swiftly hooked an arm under his knees to lay him on the bed. He used the lad's own belt to lash his feet together and cut strips from the blanket to fashion a secure gag and to tie his hands. Scowling, Corrain caught up his own saddle bags. As he reached the door, Hosh was beginning to stir, his eyes rolling beneath closed lids.
Corrain cursed between clenched teeth. He strode back and punched Hosh hard on the side of the head. The lad lolled back into unconsciousness and Corrain snatched up Hosh's clothes. Stuffing them into the lad's ungainly leather bag he slung that over his shoulder with his own gear.
This humble inn had no locks to its doors so Corrain couldn't secure the room. He strode swiftly down the narrow passage and took the winding stair to the hallway two steps at a time. Sticking his head into the kitchen, he found a weary maid yawning as she swept ash from the hearth. He grinned. 'Who's Head of the Watch hereabouts, sweetness?'
The girl blinked at him, bewildered. 'Master Emmer, the baker.'
Corrain fished in his shirt for the purse strung around his neck. 'You do me a good turn and there'll be another silver mark to go with this one.' He flipped the shiny coin towards her and she snatched it out of the air. 'You remember that lad I was travelling with?'
She nodded mutely, wide-eyed.
'He tried to rob me in the night.' Corrain shook his head. 'I've left him tied up. Fetch this master baker, whenever you've done your chores. I've got my own business to be about but I'll be back to swear out an affidavit against the louse.' He favoured the girl with another winning smile.
Still confused she half-returned it, clutching her coin, the ash-pan in her other hand.