Shadow of Hope 34
From his position some distance away, Kurn missed the exchange between Erellia and Zulian but noted Zulian’s route away from the the rest of the party. Kurn threw Erellia a questioning glance and nudged his own horse to angle off in the same direction, trailing back from Zulian but closing the distance.
Erellia guided her horse into a canter to close the distance between herself and Kurn. “There is no need for you to follow her, Kurn. She is only ghosting Daroun for a short while to insure there are no hunters following him. She will rejoin us before long.”
Erellia turned her mount in the direction of the slowly moving train and as an afterthought said with a smile, “Plus, I don’t
believe you could follow her. She’s very good at what she does.” She then began making her way back toward the others.
Kurn accepted Erellia’s wishes at face value and nudged his mount to pace alongside hers. “Your concern for her is passive, then?” Kurn asked, eyes ahead. If Erellia did not hesitate to have Zulian off on her own, so be it, but Kurn needed to understand Erellia’s parameters. “No imminent threat is expected; react as developing situations require, but you wish no specific measures otherwise?”
“Zulian is in no more danger than any other,” Erellia replied, “But as I have said, her survival is critical to our venture. Make of that what you will.”
After a brief pause that bears a degree of frustration, Erellia continued, “I’m sorry I cannot provide you with clearer insight. I
would greatly appreciate some enlightenment myself. I am not accustomed to operating so blindly. I have asked you along as a
safeguard, Kurn. I believe when the time comes to fulfill your duty, you will know it. Until then, we must trust our instincts.”
Kurn considered what she had said, and eventually took an odd sort of reassurance in her confiding that there were some things that escaped even her. The statement changed Kurn’s perception of Erellia, mostly in positive ways; it was not that she was withholding necessary information, it was that in some ways she was feeling things out, herself, and so did not always have the information to provide. Erellia suddenly felt a little more real to Kurn, and he respected her for her admission. He nodded in understanding, better at peace with her request, and rode on quietly.
His horse following the rest on its own initiative more than by dint of anything Cheskith was doing, the Lizardman voiced what was probably a common concern. “Or the bandits, if they come again? Not at all does this area seem friendly, it seems, for all that tale-tellers call it, less wild and dangerous than the north.”
“Someone will lead this thing, if it comes to a run, I hope?” he added thoughtfully, giving the horse another dubious look. He might be able to prompt it into a run on his own, true. Controlling it once he did would be the problem.
“Um, sir, just try and be as calm and relaxed as you can,” Haron said to Cheskith, “Your horse is an animal like any other, and it can sense when there’s a novice rider aboard.” The boy rode up along side and patted the steed on the neck, trying to assuage some of its discomfort.
“If he starts to run, you’d best just jump off quick,” he offered with an uncertain smile, “Unless we’re running from something, that is. Then just hold on for dear life.”
“And being nervous will be acceptable then, I think?” came Cheskith’s wry reply. “But now, not so much nervous am I as simply uncertain what to do. You have some knowledge of these creatures, it is clear. Perhaps when we stop for some time, you can show me how to steer this creature, yes?”
“Ummm,” Haron started, looking around timidly, “Be that we’re moving so slowly, you may just want to walk next to your horse. If’n you don’t mind the mud that is. Lead him. Talk to him. Build up some kind of familiarity. I’d be happy to teach what I can, but you might do yourself more harm then good before then.”
Looking around at the rain, he said, “Especially with this weather we’re havin’.”
“I would do this already, I think, but for the suggestion that the running may need to begin at any time. If I simply continue to sit here, it should be no trouble in the meantime, yes? And I will grow more used to this more quickly by the doing.”
Rôhn, riding nearby Haroun and Cheskith as to be able to hear the former’s instructions for his own edification, leaned forward toward his steed’s ear and, reticently, grumbled, “Hello, horse.”
The semblance of civilization which was the Westerly settlement faded away into the gloom as the winding line of horses negotiated a careful path across the near-flooded landscape. Those that took a parting glance backward could see the warm glow of lanterns and hear the subtle racket of mercantile life before the hazy mists of rain swallowed even those final images. The orange glow of the funeral pyre could be seen for quite a time after the other aspects of the bridge had dwindled.
Discussions were kept to a muted minimum as participants were required to gather closely together to be heard above cloak and rain. A shout would carry word if necessary, but each knew that within the wilds of the frontier, overt noise was likely to summon trouble more often than not.
Erellia moved at a comfortable speed near the head of the line, although Borlak still operated as the point figure some fifty feet in
front of the train. Haron lead his pair of pack horses as close to the middle of the line as he could manage, though he seemed to never be far from Katarina. Shortly after the group was underway, Zulian rejoined the company and took up a comfortable position at the rear, some fifty feet or so behind the last horse.
Kurn’s horse fell into easy pace adjacent to Erellia, sometimes slightly ahead, sometimes slightly behind as the route required. His attention drifted back and forth across the terrain as they progressed. More than once he turned in his saddle to survey the progress of the rest of the party.
Several hours of slow riding into the untamed wilds along a broken trail afforded the party a measure of peace and quiet after the chaotic affairs of the bridge. Dusk was no more than an hour away, although the cloud cover and thinly forested terrain made such estimations difficult. Erellia gave the order to identify a suitable campsite if no hamlet or shelter was forthcoming. Gusty winds picked up from the northwest, carrying an additional chill in the air but also serving to reduce the rains to little more than a spraying nuisance. The black slash of the Wicked Way was ever present in the distance, by sight from time to time and by sound almost always. The wind had at least served to sever the ever present stink that seemed to lurk along the river basin.
Borlak’s brief signal of warning was not nearly as disturbing as the large man slippiing from his warhorse, saber sliding into view in liquid silence. A quick tap of his fingers and Galagina turned herself around and walked back toward the supply train. The barbarian moved at a low crouch into the scraggly underbrush, pointing at some unseen target in the near distance.
As Borlak made his way across the uneven ground, strewn with brush and undergrowth, his eyes stayed focused on his destination. The original image of the body he detected took shape more fully, and he could actually see other similarly decomposed figures near the first. His senses were attuned to his surroundings, and as the wind abated, a smell reached his nose which caused the hair on his arms and nape to stand on end. He froze in his tracks.
Something was not right here. He could not determine what the source was, but his survival instinct was afire. The blood thrummed in his veins and the adrenalin was but a heartbeat away from sending his system into overdrive. The rich, pungent smell of death combined with another sickening sweet scent put one thought into his mind.
Nest.