Chapter 12
Canby
After half a day of upland travelling, the band stopped on a prominent hillock sheltered on all sides by thickets of short spindly trees and stretches of high grass. From the top, they could see for a distance in all directions. The sun was high and the temperature grew warm, a welcome comfort as it kept them and their parcels dry.
Anson laid on a comfortable bed made from tufts of grass they pulled and heaped for him. By this time, he gained full consciousness and the realization that he had been rescued by his companions.
While Orris and Corissa tended to Anson, Nevin also recovered from the constant uphill track taxed by the burden of carrying his friend. It was a small effort compared with what Anson had endured. Once stretched out, Nevin found it difficult to get up. He was already asleep when Corissa asked him if he would look for water.
Orris was carefully pouring Anson a drink from one of the water bottles when the mage choked and sputtered, then struggled to speak.
“Pouch…”
Orris did not understand.
“My pouch…”
Orris quickly searched through Anson’s belongings until he found a small cloth pouch with several pockets. With uncertain hands, Anson grabbed it and searched for some dried stems and leaves. After awkwardly crushing the material between his palms, he put the collection in his mouth and chewed it. He motioned for another drink, which Orris provided. As soon as he finished a long drink of water and swallowed the herb mixture, Anson closed his eyes and slept.
Since Nevin was also heavily asleep, Orris conceded this spot was safe enough to remain for a while. Corissa agreed, adding that it would be best to see how Anson would recover before moving on.
* * *
When Nevin woke the next morning, Anson was already sitting up talking quietly with Orris. Under Anson’s direction, Orris had made a medicinal salve of bittersweet and chamomile which Anson applied to his own external bruises and cuts. The mage continually flexed his hands and legs, indicating that the salve was having its desired affects. Seeing that Nevin was now awake, the mage winced from various pains but managed a smile as he greeted him.
“I hope you rested well, Sir Nevin. You deserved a long night’s sleep for your efforts. Words fall short of expressing my gratitude for the risk you took.”
“The words I want to hear from you, Anson, is your promise you will not run off on your own again.” Nevin was amazed at his friend’s quick recovery. How could this man act cheerful after such an ordeal?
“Ha! You are right, my friend,” Anson answered with his customary gracious tone. “We were meant to work as a team. My military friend, here, has told me several times this morning that we are the ‘Alliance for Antrim’ and an alliance cannot succeed if its members are scattered about.”
“Alliance, eh?” Nevin said with feigned annoyance. “Maybe we should find some rope and bind this alliance together so no one gets lost.” They all laughed at that.
Corissa finished preparing some meager items for a meal and they leisurely talked and ate till Anson said he needed to sleep. He prepared another dose of bugleweed, which allowed him a few more hours of restorative rest. When the sun was high, he woke again and said he was able to travel if they kept the pace moderate. While the others debated whether it was wise for Anson to walk so soon, he loaded his pack and started heading to the northwest.
The topography soon changed markedly. The vegetation was mostly sparse grass and random low bushes with low rocky hills to cross. Atop one of the hills, they got their first glimpse of the mountain where they were headed. It was named after the great emperor who ruled a vast realm as one kingdom, Corissa explained. Off in the distance, Adel’s Mountain was prominent in blue haze against a background of many other lighter colored peaks. Nevin studied this view, concluding that the light color was not due to snowfields but to rock with little or no tree lines. It posed a stark image compared with the lush flora he had experienced in Antrim. If a city could be located up there, it might be an imposing fortress.
Corissa confirmed his guess by explaining the capitol city was built right into the mountainside and walled so there was only one common access. She cautioned them that its apparent proximity was an illusion, knowing that Anson and Orris, at least, had no experience with mountain travel. Nevin affirmed her caution, adding how the pioneers of the American West cheered their first sighting of the Rocky Mountains, but grew disconsolate at the number of days it actually took to reach them.
Corissa said it would take their party at least four or five days to reach Adel’s Mountain, assuming no trouble. She was concerned that they be able to replenish their water bags, because much of the distance ahead was arid with few places to get water. They were fortunate, she said, that it was still the spring of year since it should not be oppressively hot. During the sweltering summer months, no one would risk travelling this road for very long without ample supplies.
Corissa also informed them they would soon reach the main road, known locally as the King’s Highway; by nightfall they should reach a small town where they could spend the night. Nevin asked if it was unwise to travel openly, but Corissa pointed out that they had little choice. There were only a few known places to obtain water and each had a surrounding settlement of some type. The people are not friendly to outsiders, but they know the need to share water. She assured Nevin that Gilsum folks would not flock around to gawk at him, as had happened in Sartell, but would keep to themselves. As long as the little band had a believable story to explain their presence, they should fare well. Corissa had concocted a story which should provide an adequate disguise for their mission.
The downhill walk from their resting place made it easy to start off again. After climbing and descending one more set of hills, they came to the King’s Highway. They followed the road for a while, encountering only two small groups of travelers. True to Corissa’s prediction, these travelers offered no conversation and stayed far to their side as they passed. These Gilsum hillfolk only gave quick, nervous glances to be alert for possible attack, and the chance meetings quickly passed with no exchange.
A few hours farther down the Highway, they sighted the town of Canby. A settlement of a dozen or so scattered buildings, it seemed unusual to Nevin for the small homes to be widely dispersed. Since they were living under harsh conditions, he thought it would be more adaptive to live closer together. After some musing, he presumed this must reflect the unsociable nature of the people. He nodded to himself with satisfaction over this deduction. It felt good to use his intellect again. Since arriving at Antrim, most of the demands on him were of a physical nature and he hardly had reason to use his scientific acumen; in fact, he was steadily forgetting the details of his previous life. Trying to resurrect his scientific orientation, however, caused him some distress because of his inadequate explanations for some of his experiences. How the deliverance spell worked, for example. He promised himself he would address this conundrum in due time. Right now, he needed to pay attention to this first Gilsum settlement they were approaching.
As they walked into Canby, Corissa suggested they approach the largest of the homes because it had a stable where they might be allowed to bed down for the night. She also picked this site because it was on the edge of the little hamlet and the stable was located a good distance from the owner’s wood frame cottage.
It was already evening and Corissa bid her band to hurry, as the residents would be less willing to open their door to travelers at night. She instructed them to wait as a group, remaining in plain sight, a short distance from the front door. She would go alone and ask for permission to use the stable and fill their water bags.
Corissa was met at the door by a highly cautious man and woman. They engaged in spirited discussion for several minutes, with the couple making frequent glances and animated gestures toward Corissa’s three companions.
Corissa returned and explained they could sleep in the stable for one night. No food would
be offered, but they could fill their water bags.
“What were they so excited about?” asked Nevin.
“They were concerned how much water a big man like you would drink. I told them you were a feral man raised with the goats of the high mountains, and like the mountain goats you did not need much water.”
“Thanks a lot.” Nevin was chagrinned, but the others thought it was an amusing reference.
“Did they question you about the destination of this ‘Goat Man’ and his companions?” asked Anson.
“Yes, Anson. I told them you were a healer who had special knowledge of herb lore and were sought by me to help heal my mother, who is gravely ill in Taunton.”
“What about Nevin and Orris?”
“Orris is my personal guard, paid by my father to keep me safe. Nevin is your servant. To allay their fears of him, I told them Nevin has the mind of a child and merely grew large because he has some troll blood in his ancestry.”
“A troll’s descendent again! Since I am now your pack animal, I suppose I should carry all the parcels to the stable and go nibble some straw,” sputtered Nevin, who would have preferred that Corissa look at him in a more flattering light.
“No, not straw,” Orris chided. “Remember, goats prefer grass. Such a large body this boy has, but such a small mind.”
They laughed at the jest, with Nevin even forcing a smile as they walked toward the stable. To make up for his remark, Orris left them to fill the water bags. The stable was a roomy stout building, timber-framed with half-walls of piled stone and upper walls of rough sawn wood; it was roofed by overlapping slates. Nevin and Corissa made up some bedding using the cleanest straw and their blankets, both agreeing it would be a cozy place for sleeping if they could only find a spot untainted by animal manure.
“It won’t be so bad, Nevin,” Corissa offered as she patted his shoulder.
Nevin was appeased by her show of concern, but she could not resist another jibe. She took his arm and looked up at his cow eyes. “Since you are used to the bad smell of goat droppings and only horses are kept here, this will be like a perfumed room at the King’s castle.”
Corissa laughed so hard she developed a side stitch and had to sit down on a bale of hay. Nevin was stung again by the unflattering characterization, but he loved hearing her laugh. She seemed to drop her guard and her little joke relieved the tension of the day’s exertion.
They prepared for a night’s rest. Using an old fire ring situated safely outside the stable, Anson was fit enough to prepare a meal of cooked legumes, cheese and a hot broth that was wonderfully flavorful. After eating, they held a short discussion of their plans for the next day’s travel and retired to the stable. In this small space, Orris positioned himself closest to the door. He removed his swordwood blade from its tether but kept it at his side in easy hand’s reach.
Before they started their preparations to leave the next morning, Anson left the stable for a short walk and Orris went to top off the water bags. Nevin and Corissa repacked their parcels, but were startled as the door to the stable flung open. Anson walked back inside, his hands raised, as he was prodded along by two men in dirty red uniforms, pointing swords at his back.
Chapter 13
Acquaintance
“Both of you! Stand where you are and face forward!”
Nevin and Corissa froze.
One of the men, a bedraggled soldier named Fent, nervously looked around. “Let’s see what we have here. Keep your sword on their friend here, Pell, and I will take a closer look.”
Fent poked in straw piles with his sword and gave the place a once-over until he was satisfied nothing was hidden. Despite his young age, which Nevin estimated as twenty, Fent had the appearance of a grizzled veteran of army life. He had two prominent scars on his face and walked with a limp from a stiffened leg.
Pell, the other Guardsman, was younger, perhaps no more than seventeen. Nevin saw copious signs of nervousness from that young man, and his sword was far too heavy for him, requiring two hands to keep it aimed at Anson.
Satisfied that no one else was about, Fent ordered everyone to walk slowly outside. Once outside the stable, he demanded to know their identity and reason for being on the road.
“I have travelled a long distance to find this man,” Corissa said, pointing to Anson. “He is a healer and my mother is gravely ill in Taunton.”
“There are healers in Taunton. Why would you make such a long journey for this simple looking man?”
“He has a high knowledge of herb lore which is unknown to the healers in Taunton. He uses herbs and plants which only grow near the Grayflood River.”
“What of this other man, the beastly-sized one? Gods, he is the biggest lout.”
“He is merely a dim-witted servant to the healer. His body grew large but his mind dulled by the blood of trolls in his lineage. He is harmless.”
“He does have the look of a dolt. You two men sit here,” Fent said sharply to Anson and Nevin, “And lean against the stable wall. Pell has orders to kill if you make the slightest move. Come with me, woman. Our Captain will want to question you.”
Corissa gave a Nevin a look that meant they should cooperate and not attempt any countermeasures. She walked off with Fent toward the house and went through the door. Inside, a cleaner uniformed officer sat at the table in the midst of eating a breakfast meal. There was no sign of the couple who lived in the house. Fent explained the situation to his captain, who slowly set his spoon on the table as he stared at Corissa.
“Leave the woman with me, Fent. Get quickly back to Pell and keep her companions under close watch. That boy would be easily overmatched.”
“But, Sir—”
“You have my orders, soldier!” the Captain interrupted. “Besides, I have nothing to fear from this woman. We are acquainted.”
The soldier left abruptly, closing the door behind him. The Captain set his elbows on the table and clasped his hands, nervously rubbing one hand over the other. He wiped his mouth with a sleeve and calmly pushed his plate away.
“Sit down, Corissa. It has been a long time since we have seen each other and you have only grown more comely.”
“I expect you have changed little as well, Torrance.”
“What is this foolish story about you seeking a healer for your mother? Have you found someone who can raise her from the dead? You must certainly know that she died. And, if I may be permitted to say, she died disappointed in you, as were many of us, to learn you married an Antrim officer.”
Torrance stood and slowly walked around the table. Corissa took a step backward.
“You needn’t fear me, Corissa. You never thought me worth a smile from your pretty face before, but I do not hold grudges. I am still willing to be your friend, even if you are here on Antrim business. Come and tell me all about this mysterious affair of yours.” His voice was like greased silk.
Corissa backed away again, but the officer moved quickly and grabbed her arm to pull her close. Putting his other arm around her neck to force a kiss, he said, “I can use pain to make you talk, or easier yet I could have my men think of ways to get the truth out of you. Better you should submit to me, dear Corissa. At least I would show some concern for your pleasure.”
Corissa struggled and slipped his grasp, knocking over a chair. Back at the stable, the sound caused Nevin to start. Since Fent had returned, he dared not make a move.
Back in the house, Torrance circled toward Corissa backing her against a wall. “Come, my dear,” he said rakishly, kicking the fallen chair out of his way. “Do not refuse me now. Come and see what you have missed by spurning Gilsum men.”
She edged away until she was trapped in a corner. Torrance slowly measured his steps until he hovered over her. He smiled salaciously but she was determined to resist. She would not let herself fall to this indignity without a fight. He lunged again and caught her by the wrist. She wheeled around and kicked him, missing his groin but hitting his knee. He fell back wit
h a shout of pain and slammed against the table, knocking dishes to floor. Bent over rubbing his knee, he sneered at her.
“So! I will play your game. If you will not have me, then I will watch as my men have their turns at you. That young pup, Pell, has never had a woman and he would be glad for an opportunity to raise his status among his comrades.”
Torrance straightened up and arranged his disheveled uniform with a mock air of dignity. He sidled away from her, as if he was the one refusing her. He stopped with his back against the wall, next to a window facing directly opposite her. “Before I set them on you like the dogs they are, my dear lady, I will have them kill your two friends as part of the price you pay for your refusal.”
He sneered again and gave a smug, sinister laugh as he prepared to call his troops. Before he could raise his voice, his body stiffened. His hands splayed and shuddered. With widening eyes and a guttural groan, he looked down at his chest and saw the point of Orris’ swordwood blade protruding from his uniform. Zael had said that this elven-smithed blade could penetrate armor, so the Antrim soldier had little difficulty thrusting it through the plank wall.
Corissa watched her attacker slump and gasp his last breath, then stoically said, “Unfortunately for you, Torrance, I have three friends.”
Outside the wall, Orris withdrew his sword and the Gilsum captain fell lifeless to the floor. Corissa ran to the window and opened it so Orris could enter without being seen by the two Guardsmen out by the stable.
“Are you hurt, My Lady?”
“Thanks to you, Orris, I am fine. Now help me move this body out of sight.” After they dragged the corpse off to the side and covered it, Corissa said quietly, “I think there are only two other soldiers with him. We have to get one of them away from Nevin and Anson.”
Orris nodded his agreement. “Yes, My Lady, you go to the door and call the one named Fent. Once he is inside, I will tend to him. But please, Lady, stay outside once he enters.”
Corissa yelled to Fent from the doorway. When he poked his head out the stable door, she said his Captain wanted him. Grumbling that it was probably some menial chore, Fent stopped to ogle Corissa before entering the house. She turned away and the door slammed behind him. A faint groan followed as Orris carried out his duty.