“I wish I could get this thing to work for me,” Britt said, finding the crystal in the grass where she’d dropped it. “Maybe then we could blast our way out, like Kirsten did in Grandwood.” Britt pocketed the crystal and hurried to the sack of food she’d left on the ground.
As they shouldered their bags, he said, ‘’I think I have an idea.”
Britt followed him as he jogged a short way back the way they’d come, toward the soldiers on horseback. Just off the trail he tossed his sack of food to the right, landing well within view. He instructed Britt to do the same. She did, throwing the sack in a visible line of sight from the trail.
Max then turned left and rushed across the trail, back to the side where they had originally been hiding. He then jumped into the woods, more rapidly than they had on the way there. Britt followed him as he crouched low to the ground, moving quickly into the forest where the soldiers were searching for them.
Grabbing him by the shirt to slow him down, Britt said, “Max, where are you taking us? You realize we’re going right toward the line of soldiers who are searching the forest. They could be coming back this way any minute.”
Max nodded and Britt shook her head in confusion. “We can’t fight through them all,” she said.
“Hopefully we won’t have to,” Max replied.
Britt frowned.
“Just come on. We need to be quick if we’re going to make it,” he said, resuming his lead.
Britt followed Max as they moved quickly through the forest. She glanced over her shoulder many times to ensure those on horseback hadn’t seen them.
Soon Max stopped and Britt saw the relief on his face. He’d led them to the brook that followed the trail into town. She still didn’t see why Max was so pleased to have found the brook.
Sliding into the water, Max lay on his back in the current, waving for Britt to follow. Without hesitation she joined him, the chill sending a shiver through her body. She floated behind him as they allowed the current to carry them downstream. The dip in the bank provided excellent cover to anyone who was just a little ways away from the stream. As long as they remained low in the water, they would be somewhat hidden from sight.
As they floated in silence, Britt wondered what they would do if they came across the soldiers who were searching for them. She hoped Max had a plan. They were moving back toward the town at a swift rate and she knew others would be searching for them there. She didn’t know what Max was trying to do, but they wouldn’t be returning to Solomon’s anytime soon.
Although the sun was rising higher into the sky, the shadowy forest provided little direct sunlight and the chilled water began to feel colder. Above the gentle chattering of her teeth, Britt heard movement in the trees nearby. Max aimed toward the bank, sliding into the slower-moving water along the edge. Britt’s heart began to race as the rustling sounds beyond the bank grew louder. She followed Max into a cluster of cattails in the shallows of the eddy. Soldiers were advancing toward them, returning toward the road. They would be crossing the water at any moment. The collective snapping of twigs, rustling of brush and sound of armor scraping against branches overwhelmed them.
Britt widened her eyes, wanting to scream at Max, what are we going to do?
Max quickly broke a cattail reed from the clump, snapped off the fuzzy brown tip and handed it to her. She looked at him in utter confusion. What did he want her to do with that? She couldn’t fight off a troop of soldiers with a hollow reed.
He broke off another, creating another two-foot-long hollow reed, which he then placed in his mouth as he submerged under the muddy water. Britt understood then that she was to use the reed as a breathing tube to remain hidden underwater as the soldiers passed. She dunked, sucking on the length of hollow reed for air.
She dug her hands into the rocky bottom of the stream, holding herself down as she sat with her eyes open, looking toward the surface. She held the cattail tight in her mouth, inhaling and exhaling carefully, trying to keep her breathing under control. The dark nappy mat of her hair floated around her face, and for once, she was happy her hair wasn’t long and stringy. The clump of curls held their shape under the water, not rising to the surface. She could see Max through the muddy water. He sat in a similar position, his long strands of straight dark hair rising to the surface. He caught them with one hand and held them down.
Britt heard the soldiers enter the water nearby. She could see their legs as they waded through to the other side, passing by just feet from where they were hidden. She hadn’t even considered that one of them could step on her and was glad it hadn’t happened. In a matter of moments, the soldiers were climbing out on the other bank.
The two stayed under the surface for longer than was comfortable, but the need to remain hidden drove them to remain in the cold water. Finally rising to the surface and keeping her body underwater, Britt quietly gasped for air. The cattail had kept her alive, but she felt a half breath short each time she breathed. Britt dared not whisper to Max as he surfaced beside her. She saw him nod and they continued to float downstream toward town.
Chapter 57
Rune
Rune ducked as his horse passed under a low-hanging branch, scraping the nape of his neck and snagging several strands of his hair. He turned to see the string of horses behind him, lowering their heads as they hurried to keep up. His lean legs burned from posting for three days straight. He could even feel the wrinkled bags under his eyes sagging with each step. The few hours he’d attempt to rest, he rolled uncomfortably on the cold ground; he hadn’t been able to pack any equipment for comfort on his speedy mission to Brookside. Rune would’ve continued to ride through the night, but his horses needed a break. He knew how hard he could push them, and they’d nearly hit that threshold. It wouldn’t be much longer now, as he’d already ridden by the camp from days past.
Rune slowed as he and his horse worked their way sidehill across the mountains, Grandwood coming into view from behind the trees. The once-peaceful coastal town now lay in ruin, smoldering from its second major attack in a year. The salty air flowed upslope, bringing with it the stench of sunbaked flesh and burning corpses. Rune lifted his shirt to filter the smell; even though he was a surgeon and, of late, an army surgeon, the smell of death would never be familiar or tolerable. Focusing on his surroundings, he began to look for any sign of his companions. Saaja and Ophelia would be close now.
As he trotted along the well-used game trail, Rune spotted areas where the dry dirt had been disturbed. Leaning forward in his saddle, he dropped his shoulder, clinging to the saddle horn. He saw the outline of a foot, several deer tracks overlaying it. He examined the trail as he passed over it, seeing more footprints in the dirt. Sure that he was on the right track, Rune kept an eye out on either side of the game trail as it cut sidehill, switch-backing lower toward the coastal town.
As he moved into the foothills, Rune knew what signs to look for that would indicate a potential campsite. Since his companions would be scouting, they’d want to remain hidden, so he searched low-lying areas. They would need fresh water by the camp, so he passed over any that didn’t include a stream. The camp had to be near enough to Grandwood that they could walk to examine the town. He found the tents pitched in just such an area, at the base of a hill and next to a running creek. Rune dismounted, unhooked the horses from their string and hobbled the lead horse. Knowing the string horses wouldn’t wander far from the lead, Rune set out on foot, leaving them to graze and drink after the hard day’s ride.
Coming to the top of the hill west of the tents, Rune examined the destruction below. Grandwood, or what was left of Grandwood, lay beaten and toppled at the fringe of the Grandwood Forest, its namesake. Rune compared what he saw now to the last time he’d been to the town, over a decade earlier when he was an apprentice. The place had been lively and safe; now it bore the mark of their enemy’s rule. His mind returned to the words of the dark-skinned woman who’d warned him of goblins. He scanned the wreckage but didn’t see any here. Rune knew better, however, than to trust what appeared harmless at first glance.
Goblins are crafty creatures, magical in ways beyond my comprehension, he thought, recalling those injured humans he’d operated on and their words before death.
As he looked over the north side of town, where a fire had done the most damage, skeletal buildings were interspersed with those left in smoldering heaps. The buildings that survived were brick and stone, or they were outliers. As he searched for movement, he examined the wall, a project abandoned while still under construction. No ships made anchor in the bay that in years past was brimming with merchants. Turning to the south, Rune noted the depressions caused by cannon fire and bludgeoned buildings, half-destroyed and also abandoned. Farther out from the town, he saw the first sign of survivors. A line of people moved in the distance, their dark outlines marching south along the coast. He stepped forward, straining to focus on the distant movement. The line of black shapes moved steadily away from the smoldering town.
Rune couldn’t tell whether the figures he watched were people or the kurr the others had warned them about. According to the small group he had helped flee to Brookside, Grandwood’s fate was to be the enemy’s stronghold in the west. Judging from the destruction below, it seemed that plan had changed.
Rune turned his attention to his immediate surroundings. He knew Saaja and the others would be close, also observing. Not seeing them atop the hill, he started down the slope. He raked the hillside with his eyes as he moved, continuing to switchback as he’d done with the horses. Just a few minutes from the top of the hill he spotted someone in the forest. He recognized Saaja’s distinct bulk perched on a downed log.
Rune knew if he startled his battle-tested companion he could be in for a deadly outcome, so he chose to make noise in his approach. Stepping hard on downed tree branches and kicking over rocks, Rune gained Saaja’s attention. As Saaja turned his large head, Rune noticed others in his group popping up from behind the log.
As he drew near, Saaja rose and extended his muscular arm in greeting, “Glad to have you back, Rune. How did the transport go?”
Nodding to the others, Rune addressed Saaja, “All good. A long road and a short night’s rest, but the job is done and those in the Riverlands will be better served for it.”
“Did the girl live?” Rune heard his youthful apprentice, Ophelia, ask from behind Saaja. He gathered Saaja had informed the others of every detail about their unexpected guests.
Rune stepped to the side to better see the dark-haired girl when he responded, “Last I saw of her she was still breathing. Hopefully Solomon can help them now.” Stepping around, Rune sat down on the log next to Saaja. Ophelia and the six others also leaned against the downed tree, all focused on him for news. Looking at the group of hardworking Westland farmers turned rebel soldiers, he asked, “What’s been happening here? I saw people marching south just a moment ago.”
Saaja’s salt and pepper beard bent against his thick chest as he nodded, “That would be the occupying force that was here when we arrived. They formed ranks and moved out earlier today. We’ve kept eyes on the town for two days now.”
“Goblins?” Rune asked.
Shaking his head, Saaja said, “None. They must’ve left before because we haven’t seen any. From the looks of it, though, they prevented Grandwood from becoming a military stronghold.”
“The fire,” Rune commented.
