Chapter Seven
Devon’s Road carved its way through tranquil prairies north of New Carrington. The area was dotted with rocky outcroppings, a preface to the more mountainous Robber’s Spine, past which lay the crossroads. The tall grass dominated the land, thick and tough for a man to move through but perfect for beasts. The road was too long to be paved, but was worn down by frequent travel. Even the creatures that hid in the grass often used the road to ease their journeys. Ward could see telltale paw prints in a single file along the edge of the grass. Few trees survived here, unable to find space amid the grass to take root, and the few that did rise from prairie looked feeble and thirsty.
The caravan had been traveling for the majority of the day, pausing only twice to give the animals a break. Saffi spent her time trying to calm Stephen, feeding him carrots that she’d gotten from one of the other merchants. She told the mule that she’d take good care of him, and that he should trust Ward as well. Whatever she was doing, it seemed to work, because the animal became more docile as the day wore on.
The Swords traveled on horseback, riding up and down the line of wagons and spending more time joking with one another than watching for threats. Their casual attitude made Ward nervous. He knew how easy it would be for bandits to hide here, and he was perturbed that the First-Swords weren’t being more vigilant. When the young Sword who Saffi knew strode past, Ward stopped him.
“Gandry,” said Ward.
The young Sword’s mount trotted past Ward’s wagon, but then slowed so that they could walk together. “Yes?” He afforded Ward no honor in his response, perhaps ignorant of Ward’s former standing among his guild, or more likely unconcerned with it.
“I don’t see any of your men scanning the grass. You should have a scout up on the lead and rear wagons, looking for movement.”
“Don’t worry,” said Gandry. “The bandits don’t travel this far south of the crossroads anymore. If we run into them, they’ll be up in The Spine.” The rocky terrain north of where they were was labeled on maps as ‘Echo Hills’, but the merchants knew it as The Robber’s Spine, both because of the jagged hills as well as the frequent attacks of audacious bandits there.
Gandry could see that Ward wasn’t assuaged, so he added, “Besides, none of the marauders of the plains are interested in fighting these days. They just collect their taxes and then skirt off to Sailor’s Rock or Balestead.”
“I’d rather keep my pel than hand it off to some brigand,” said Ward. “Tell your captain to do me a favor and post a couple scouts.”
“I’m as close to a captain as you’re going to get here,” said Gandry.
Ward grimaced, struck by a mix of confusion and disbelief. “What?”
“Just First-Swords on this trip. The captains are busy dealing with the disappearances.”
“What disappearances?” asked Ward.
“You didn’t hear? They’ve got about twelve people missing in the North District alone. How didn’t you hear about that? It’s all anyone’s been talking about.”
“This is the first I’ve heard of it.” Ward looked over at his daughter and asked, “You?”
“Murien and Abraham had mentioned it.”
“You need to get out of that bakery more often,” said Gandry. “They’re going to start searching some of the abandoned houses along the river. Some people are saying there’s a serial killer grabbing victims right off the street.”
“How many people did you say were missing?” asked Saffi.
“Twelve as of last night,” said Gandry. “Could be more by now.”
“How long’s it been going on?” asked Ward.
Gandry thought for a moment and then said, “A little more than a week.”
“Twelve people in a week?” asked Ward, astounded.
“Twelve just in the north. Started in the slums,” said Gandry.
Ward thought about the warning the stranger at the bakery had given him about The Scholar, and he was struck by a sudden possibility. “You need to send someone back to New Carrington to warn them.”
“Warn them about what?” asked Gandry, sensing Ward’s urgency.
“The Scholar. I think I know how he’s been attacking the towns. He’s not marching his armies up to the gates. He’s creating his army in the town itself.”
“I don’t follow,” said Gandry.
“He’s the reason people are disappearing,” said Ward, impatient as he explained his suspicion. “He’s getting into the towns alone, and then murdering people inside the walls. He’s turning them into zombies. The walls won’t do us any good.”
Gandry looked confused, and just sat there on his horse staring at Ward as he processed what the baker had said.
“Are you daft, boy?” Ward snapped his fingers at the Sword. “You need to send someone back to town to warn them.”
A horn blew from far off, echoing across the plains and getting the attention of everyone in the caravan. It was distant and ominous, calling out a low tone that stretched on for a long breath. Ward knew what it meant, and he searched for the Marauders that would certainly be near.
Far ahead, atop a hill beside Devon’s Road, were two men astride mounts. They hoisted the black banner of their clan, the flag rippling in the breeze. The banner depicted a red circle cut in quarters by white arrows. There was a circle in the center of each quarter, the lower three black and the top one white, revealing the clan’s name to those who understood the markings. These were the Northland Marauders, and they were prepared for battle.
The grass around them, stretching the entire length of the caravan on both sides, began to shake as bandits stood from their cover. Within seconds there were at least fifty men surrounding them, all armed and ready to kill.
Stephen brayed as the caravan came to a stop, and Ward reached over to take his daughter’s hand as he said, “Get down.” He forced her to kneel as he pulled a blanket off the back of the wagon that had been protecting their wares from any rain. He put the heavy blanket over her and then reached back to grab another. “Stay where you are. Don’t move.”
“What’s going on?” asked Saffi as she lifted the edge of the blanket to peer out.
Ward pushed the lip of the blanket back down and said, “Keep down and keep quiet. Everything’s going to be okay. They’re probably just looking to collect their tax.”
“Then why do I have to hide?” asked Saffi as she again lifted the edge of the blanket.
“Because they might be looking for you.” Ward pushed the blanket back down and hushed her as the brigands advanced.