Keep on the Borderlands

7

It took time for the men to haul the massive bodies away. By the time Jerdren and the others returned to the camp, their provisioner had a fire going once more and the last of the porridge reheating. The men who’d been on guard when the orcs attacked ate as the others began packing up their blankets or retrieving what unbroken arrows and other weapons they could. Mead turned the pages of his book. Eddis sat cross-legged on her blanket, counting out the contents of the orc’s purse Jerdren had tossed her—most of the weight came from copper pence and a small bar of silver that gleamed wetly in the early morning sun.

There were also two odd little bundles of sticks and string. M’Baddah, who sat close by bandaging one of the injured, looked them over carefully and suggested she give them to Mead.

“I think they are fetishes, but he may know what they are used for and if they are dangerous for us to keep.”

“I didn’t think of that,” Eddis said. She dropped them atop the dust-coated bag and wiped her hands on her breeches.

It was quiet for some moments, except the crackle of the fire, and the faint groans of one of the spearmen who’d received a nasty crack on the back of his head. Fortunately, his helm had kept him alive.

Jerdren came back into the clearing and knelt at the fire to pour hot water over his bloody hands. None of it seemed to be his blood. He blotted them on his shirt and grinned at Eddis.

“There’s one way to work up an appetite!”

“Not my favorite,” Blorys replied. He’d come up behind her and settled down next to her. “Arm better, Eddis?”

She nodded.

“Good for your reflexes, a fight like that,” Jerdren said. His grin faded. “We need to talk. The few orcs we left alive ran, and from what I saw, I’ll wager they’re still running. Maybe it was just our bad luck to pick a place to camp where we’d cross paths with ’em. Still—is it possible there’s a hold of those brutes around here?”

The Keep men eyed each other. “There’s no rumor of a hold,” one said finally. “Now and again, hunting parties’ll see prints that might be orcs or other such creatures. And they’ve been seen at a distance—but only a few of ’em at a time. Fewer than we fought here.”

“But you don’t send patrols eastward, do you?” Jerdren asked. “And you don’t hunt this far into the wilds, so would you even know?”

“I would know if there was a hold close by,” Mead said. He was stowing his book in its case as he came up to join the others. “I tested this area for evil before agreeing we should camp here, if you recall, and I made sure none of the orcs we fought last night had followed us.”

“Oh, right.” Jerdren rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It just seems odd, as much wilderness as there is, that they just happened to wind up where we are.”

“We didn’t travel that far last night, and we weren’t exactly being quiet, this morning,” Eddis replied dryly. “And there’s the fire. With this wind, they could probably smell the smoke for a long ways. But if you ask me, it doesn’t matter if these orcs were part of last night’s bunch, or if they’re a completely different troop.”

“It might matter,” Jerdren said. “Because if there are bands of ’em wandering around out here, that just might mean we’re close to a den. We aren’t out here to battle orcs. They’re big and nasty, and cursed few of ’em carry what I’d call a decent pocketful of coin. Besides, if there’s orcs all over the place here, what chance is there we’ll find that band of robbers in the same area?”

“I’m not arguing with you,” Eddis said.

One of the spearmen looked up from his pack. “I’m remembering something,” he said. “About two years ago, there was a company of men rode in from the east, early in the year. They told us they’d had one fight after another—orcs and all manner of other creatures—some distance from the Keep, where the road runs through heavy woods, down in a long, deep ravine. They broke free, finally, but half their number were dead, and most of their pack horses were gone, too.”

“That long ravine is at least another day’s ride from here,” another said. “Up where the caves are, or so it’s said.”

“Caves?” Jerdren sat up straight and suddenly looked very interested. Blorys sighed quietly.

The Keep man shrugged. “Back when Macsen was still lord of the Keep, men went farther from the walls, and all this around here was peaceful. None of us here have ever seen the caves. There’s always been stories, though, about a great run of caverns where monsters of every kind live.”

“Oh.” Jerdren waved that aside. “No robbers there, then. That’s too far a distance for the men we’re seeking, anyway.” He came partway to his feet and looked around. “We just about ready to move on?”

“Nearly,” M’Baddah said. He was rubbing salve into an armsman’s cut fingers, while Mead tended to the man with the aching head.

“Good.” Jerdren broke out his map. “Anyone got an idea where we are? I mean, we re obviously somewhere in this area.” He pointed at a place well within the woods, where they came down close to the road.

“More like here,” one of the archers said. He indicated a place farther south. “We don’t come this far to hunt, not often, but seems to me I’ve been here, time we came down the road last year. If I’m right, the river’ll be right close to the road when we do come into the open, and there’s the swamps just on the other side.”

Blorys came around to look over his brother’s shoulder. “You know,” he said, “I’ve been thinking about the other side of the river—not where it’s swampy, but back west. Here, where the water divides, those are islands, right? This time of year, will the river be low enough to cross?”

The archer nodded. “This time of year, water’s almost warm, and it’s low enough to ford, plenty of places. We haven’t looked that far east of the Keep, partly for the distance, partly because they’d see us coming down from the Keep road and have all the time they’d ever want to set an ambush.”

“Yes,” Blorys replied, “but this time, they don’t know we’re out here.”

“Unless they’ve heard all the fighting,” Eddis said dryly.

“True. Even if they did, there’s no reason they’d suspect who we are or why we’re here. It just seems that this area is fairly close to the Keep, near enough to make it easy for men to see what’s on the road and go after it, but still far enough away that men could bring their horses down to the river to water them and not be seen. Especially if they come down at dusk.” He ran a thoughtful finger along the river. “Since they know the Keep isn’t sending men to look for them, then I’d wager they aren’t changing their camp very often. If at all.”

Eddis nodded. “Makes enough sense to test your idea, Blorys. You think we should—what? Pick a couple good trackers and hunters, send them across the river to check the banks for prints, and see which way they go?”

“Exactly. Even if the tracks fade out on hard ground or stone, we’ll know where to start. If I’m right, there should be plenty of signs of their passage.”

“Besides, it’s about the best choice left,” Eddis said. “We haven’t found anything to show they’re north of the road. The other side of the river seems the next best chance for finding them, I’d say.”

She looked around the fire. Everyone seemed ready to move on, and their provisioner was ready to douse the fire.

“Like you said, Jers, probably those orcs are still running, but I’d feel pretty stupid if we were still sitting here when they came back. I say we move out now and move as fast as we can. Once we reach the south edge of the woods, we can look over the land, make certain exactly where we are, and decide what to do.”

Jerdren nodded and rolled up his map. “Good idea. Let’s get going.”

Eddis backed away from the fire pit as the cook emptied his pot over the fire.

“At least one of you hunters out front with me,” Jerdren said. “And Willow? You’ve got good ears, I’d like you at the rear. Eddis?”

“Rear with Willow, or flank,” she said.

He grinned cheerfully. “I was just thinking, way you carved up those two orcs just now, maybe we want you in back, in case they try sneaking up behind us.”

“Funny man,” she retorted and scooped up her pack.

The ground remained fairly level, the woods open. Eddis could see well into the trees on both sides, but steady wind high in the branches made too much noise for her to hear anything else. By the time Jerdren called a halt, she could clearly make out the road, and across it, a bright green line of brush that marked either the river or swampy ground.

Jerdren beckoned her over as two of the Keep men went a little farther on. They were back within moments.

“I was right,” the archer said. “Fens and bogs are ahead, just across the river. That big mound is about dead ahead of us, and the river bends back south again.” Jerdren had his map out, and the man pointed. “Just here.”

“So the islands are back west along the road,” Jerdren mused. “We’ll stay in the trees, take a short rest there, then find a place to look out where they are. We can decide what to do at that point.”

They went on, paralleling the road but still in tree shadow. Afternoon shade soon hid most of the land to the south, deep shadows cast by the hills rising steeply out beyond the river. Jerdren chose a small clearing a little farther back in the woods, and dropped his pack.

“Cold camp tonight,” he said. “If the men we want are up on that hillside somewhere, a fire might be seen.”

Eddis settled on her heels, back against a tree. “So—where from here? And who’s going?”

“Best plan, I’d say, is you and I, M’Baddah, and a couple of the Keep hunters go down to the road, see what we can make out. Go from there.”

She shoved to her feet for answer.

Willow came with them. “There is nothing coming along the road, in either direction,” the elf said quietly. He couldn’t have been heard at any distance beyond his companions. Wind blew dry brush and dust westward along the road. “I can see no movement south, toward the river, either, but there is plenty of tall brush out there, between us and water.”

Jerdren peered and finally shook his head. “I can’t even see that. No sign of movement up on the hillside, either, but it’s kind of dark over there.”

He took a step toward the open, but Willow held him back.

“There is still light on the road. If anyone was watching over there, you could be seen.”

“Maybe,” Jerdren replied with a shrug. “Still—I don’t see anything high enough out there where someone could be spying on the Keep.”

“We’re too far east of the Keep for that,” one of the hunters said, “but look a little farther west. The slope goes up sharply, and it drops off to the west. If I was setting a watch, it would be on the west edge there.” He pointed.

“Then we need to go farther west?” Jerdren asked, but M’Baddah shook his head.

“Even if the watch is up there, I think no one would set a camp up there. Too much trouble to get in and out. Likely the camp itself is in thick woods, fairly close to the water. Soon there will be ice and snow on the heights, and if we are searching for signs of men and horses along the water,” M’Baddah added, “then it makes sense to me that we start here and work our way back west, toward the Keep.”

“I agree,” Eddis said. “If there’s nothing else we can see out here, I say head back to camp, and decide who goes…”

She fell silent as Willow held up a hand. He was gazing back the way they’d come.

“Enemy. Men there,” he whispered sharply, and drew his sword.

Jerdren shook his head dubiously but drew his sword as a bowstring twanged loudly, and a man yelled in pain. Someone else swore.

M’Baddah and Willow were already running quietly and swiftly through the trees, Eddis and the others right behind them. The elf held up a hand as they neared the camp and gestured with his chin. A man lay dead a few paces ahead, between them and the camp. Three others were shooting arrows into the small clearing, and as they watched, one of the men fell. More yelling from the far side of the camp. Jerdren touched Eddis’ shoulder to get her attention.

“We’ll send M’Baddah and Willow around the north side. Keep those for ourselves.” He grinned tightly as the elf vanished quietly into the trees. “I’d say—” he was counting under his breath—“about now.”

There was more yelling north of them, all at once, and then M’Baddah’s voice: “Eddis, go!”

She threw herself at the nearest of the archers with a hawklike scream. The man yelped in surprise as he came around, the bow falling from his hands, but as she closed with him, he drew a dagger from his sleeve and brought it up in a slashing backhand, inside her down-swing. Pain flared hot and sharp across her cheek. Her earlobe stung, and blood ran down her neck. She fell back a pace, and the man came after her.

“Fool!” she snarled and lunged. The sword went deep into his belly, and the hilt was torn from her hand as he fell. She set one foot on his chest, fought the weapon free, and brought it down in a hard arc across his throat. He shuddered, went limp. Cursing steadily, she shifted the blade to her left hand and felt her face cautiously. A long cut ran from her jaw nearly to her nose. It stung, and her ear throbbed. Most of the blood came from a small nick at the base of the lobe. Messy, a little uncomfortable, but nothing more.

The clatter of fighting ceased, as suddenly as it had began. Jerdren had one of the men by his leather jerkin, a thick-bladed dagger held against the fellow’s throat. He looked at her in sudden concern.

“Much hurt, there, Eddis? You’re all bloody.”

She shook her head.

“Good. Hey, the camp! Coming in!” Another glance at Eddis. “Need my help?”

“You deal with him. He clipped my ear, that’s all.”

She checked the fallen men. The one who’d been wounded just as they came up was huddled in on himself, moaning pitifully. She shifted the sword back to her right again and tapped the back of his head with it. “You’re not dying. You’re making too much noise to be hurt badly,” she said harshly. “Get up. You wanted in our camp? Fine, let’s go.”

It took a little prodding, but he finally edged away from the tip of her blade and fumbled to his feet.

She gazed at him. Dirty, ragged. “You attacked us a couple nights ago, just inside the forest, didn’t you?”

Silence. He stared at her slack-jawed.

She nudged him with the flat of her blade. “Go on, move it.”

There were three other ragged, thin men already in the clearing. One lay on his side, eyes closed. His shirt was soaked with blood, and he seemed to be barely breathing. The one Jerdren had by the jerkin wasn’t injured that she could tell. The other two bore cuts but weren’t much hurt. Two of the Keep men took the man Eddis was guarding as Blorys came across the open ground, his eyes wide.

“You’re hurt!”

“It’s not bad, really,” Eddis said. She was suddenly very tired and wanted nothing more than to just collapse. “My ear,” she added with a smile. “You know how ears and scalp wounds bleed.”

“Your face—gods, Eddis!”

“It’s shallow, just a cut. M’Baddah can—”

Mead came up and took her arm. “I have a charm, Eddis. We’ll heal it.”

“You might need that later,” she began, but Blorys and the mage both shook their heads.

“It would be bad for morale,” the elf said, “to have our only swordswoman scarred. Besides, it is my charm, and therefore my decision.”

“All right,” she said, “but later. There’s some unfinished business first.”

One of their men lay facedown in the clearing, an arrow protruding from his back, and three others had been injured, though none badly.

Jerdren, M’Baddah and Willow had already begun questioning their prisoners, and the wounded man Eddis had brought in was stammering out answers, despite curses and threats from the man Jers had disarmed and dragged in. Two Keep men stood over him with drawn swords, which Eddis thought was all that kept him from throwing himself on the fellow.

“Yeah, we were with those guys that ambushed you the other night. But how’d we know you were gonna be down here by the road? Couple fellas followed your tracks the next morning, and you were going north.”

“If you’d been smart,” Jerdren said evenly, “you’d all have kept going the way you were running when we were done with you. Why didn’t you?”

The fellow gave him a sullen look. “Because he said he knew where we could find these men.” He pointed to the loud man under guard. “And because we’re city men mostly, not hunters, and we haven’t had a decent meal in days! We’d never make it back into the realm, so why try? What else was there—go up to the gates of the Keep and beg for bread?”

Jerdren was quiet for a long moment. The wounded man watched him warily. “Eddis,” Jers said finally. “All of you. You know what we have to do here, right?”

Eddis nodded. “It was a mistake letting any of them go the first time. We do that now, and they’ll attack us again. Or—”

“Or they’ll get lucky, find the men they’re looking for, and use the information about us to get into that camp,” Blorys finished.

The wounded man paled “You—you can’t just… !”

“Can’t just kill you?” Jerdren’s lips twitched. “Would you rather we tied you up and left you here? There’s a mountain lion out here, and there’s orcs, and worse things. The castellan of the Keep’s given us a charge. We have the right to execute lawless men like you.” He turned and caught hold of the fellow he’d brought in, dragging him cursing and snarling to his feet. “You first. At least it’ll shut you up.”

M’Baddah came across. “Two men to hold him for me. I have done this before.” He glanced at Eddis. “Let us do this and be done, quickly,” he added. He turned and walked into the woods. Two Keep men came after with the ragged prisoner between them, and two others with drawn bows, in case he somehow broke free. The wounded man gazed after them, stunned, then buried his face in his hands and wept harshly.

Eddis took a deep breath, and Blorys wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded, not trusting her voice at the moment.

The sun was nearly down by the time the last of the bandits was taken away—the wounded man, still weeping, had to be carried because his legs wouldn’t hold him. The other bodies were dragged off into the brush. M’Baddah was gone for some time after that, dealing in his own way with coldblooded killing, Eddis thought. Mead had tended to her face, and she was grateful for the sudden lack of pain, though all the fuss seemed foolish.

Jerdren looked around the clearing finally and sighed. “All that for seven miserable coppers. It seems we keep piling up dead enemies around the campsites, doesn’t it? I say this time we leave ’em right here, and we move on.”

“No argument,” Eddis said, when it became clear they were all waiting for her. “And don’t fuss over me, please. I don’t ask it or need it. It wasn’t cut that badly to begin with, and it’s healed.” The shoulder and sleeve of her shirt were stiff with blood. She’d have to change into her spare and wash the thing before she slept.

Jerdren gave his sword one more wipe before sheathing it. “Once we get settled, if there’s still time, I’d like to send M’Baddah out with his pick, four or five men, to see if there’s any sign of those men along the river.”

The dark man merely nodded, and moments later, they were on their way.

Eddis found herself in the middle of the party, with M’Whan at her side, and Mead a few paces ahead, two of the Keep men a distance behind. M’Whan was quiet, his brows drawn together. She touched his arm to get his attention.

“Anything wrong?” she asked quietly.

M’Whan sighed faintly. “It’s Father,” he said. “This scouting party. I… he’ll ask for me to go with him, I know he will. Though after what happened on our way up to the Keep, I wish he wouldn’t.”

“After—oh. Odd. I’d nearly forgotten about that ambush. M’Whan, it was not your fault that your father was wounded. Maybe one of us would have been killed, if you hadn’t taken care of that man on the road.”

Silence, which she finally broke. “You aren’t as good as he is, but that is only because he’s had more years of practice. Someday—”

“No, Eddis. He will always be my Nehuah, and I will always be his student. He has the greatness to be a master, a true Nehuah, and I do not. It is better that I accept that, don’t you see?”

His voice was like M’Baddah’s, Eddis thought—low and non-carrying.

“I don’t believe that’s true, M’Whan,” she said, as quietly. “Remember, your father chose you as his Nehuelo, and he explained it to me. Nehuelo doesn’t just mean apprentice. It means ‘the one who guards the back of the master.’”

M’Whan shook his head, visibly frustrated. “If he chose merely because he and I are the last of our family, if he chose for love of a son, or pride in his family… ?” An abashed smile turned the corner of his mouth, very briefly. “I doubt my father ever would have spoken of such things to you, as I do now, when he was Nehuelo. That is another difference between us.”

Eddis kept her eyes on the ground before her. Shadow was deep here and the ground uneven.

“All right,” she said finally. “Perhaps he did choose you for family, or for love. But remember, when he and I needed another guard, he asked that I hire you. You’re his son, yes, but if you weren’t skilled enough to take care of yourself, why would he put you in danger that way—or himself, or the clients who hire us? Or me, come to think of it. He’s fond of me—damned if I can think why, but it’s so.”

“If I fail him again…” The outland youth’s voice was overly tight as it faded.

“You haven’t faded him yet, M’Whan,” she replied. “The mere fact you worry that you aren’t good enough is reason to send you. The last person we’d want out there is someone like Jers—someone so full of himself that he’d wind up tripping over his own feet and putting everyone else at risk.”

A familiar voice spoke up just ahead of her. “Someone mention my name?” Jerdren asked. “Just making sure my co-captain is all right,” he added cheerfully.

Eddis rolled her eyes. “Save the sweet concern for your merchants’ women,” she replied crisply. Jerdren laughed and strode off toward the lead again.

M’Whan bit back a chuckle. He still looked tense when she glanced his way but not as bad as he’d been. “Thank you, Eddis,” he said quietly. “If he does ask, I’ll go, and I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will.” She smiled. “You don’t think I’d risk your life, do you? You’re important to me, and I value your skills and your presence. Your sense of humor. Good enough?”

He nodded.

“Good. It looks like we’ve found someplace to stop,” she added as they came into a clearing—this one longer than the previous one, with a shallow creek running along one side. She dropped her pack next to the water and knelt to bathe her face.

M’Whan went in search of his father.

The sun was near setting when M’Baddah led M’Whan, Willow, and two Keep men across the road and into high, frost-crisped grass. The air here was damp, and fog was beginning to pool in low places. They followed the west riverbank for some distance, then struck out due west as the shoreline became mucky and rank. The last of the tussocks behind them, M’Baddah again turned south and met up with the river almost at once, but now the ground was firm, sandy, and smooth and the bank lined with willow trees and bushes. Berry bushes, aspen, and the tall reeds blocked his view of the water, though he could now hear it, very close by.

The outlander signed for his men to stay where they were while he and the elf eased silently through the underbrush, stopping only when they could make out the ruddy light of sun on the water. It moved slowly here, a broad stream but shallow, the pebbly bed clearly visible. Partway across, massive black stones twice his height reared skyward, and the water boiled white around them. Not a good place for a man to walk, M’Baddah knew, unless he wanted the feet swept from under him.

There were two large islands midstream, the larger directly across from him. He couldn’t tell much about the second because it was west, in deep shadow. Smooth water there, and he thought it might be deep.

The sandy bank was marked with prints, but none of them belonged to men or horses: there, the deep, pointed prints of deer, and beyond them a large bear.

The nearest island was nearly flat, and wooded, but not thickly. A long look told him it was uninhabited. From here, he could just make out the far bank of the river, and beyond it, rocks and trees climbing steeply toward the darkening blue sky. If they crossed now, there would be enough light for them to be seen, if there were any watchers, but they would need what light there still was to pick a safe way across and to see any prints on the south shore. M’Baddah thought this over as his eyes searched upstream and down once again. Nothing and no one in sight, and aside from the sound of water moving slowly over stones, he could hear nothing but the distant cry of a hawk. He still withdrew as quietly as possible, Willow right behind him. Once in the open, M’Baddah beckoned his company well away from the water and into brush before he whispered a description of the riverbanks, drawing a map in the soft dirt with his finger.

“I say we all cross to the island, but only two of us go on from there. Whoever has the best eyes among you, I want you on the island to keep watch, with Willow as your leader. That way, if the two meet trouble, someone will be left to carry news back to the camp. With me, I want the best ears among you.

They discussed this briefly and quietly and chose one of the spearmen. M’Baddah turned and led the way back to the riverbank.

Silence, except for the burbling of the river around the standing stones. The wind had died away completely, and the colors of sunset shone on the water’s surface. M’Baddah took up a slender stick about half his height, removed his boots, and tucked them under his arm. He led the way into the shallows, feeling his way with the stick first, the Keep man a few paces behind him.

As he’d hoped, the water was merely cool this late in the season and never deeper than his ankles. The two men reached the small island without incident. There were a few willow trees here and a few thorn bushes covered with bright red berries. The outlander signed his companion to stay where he was, in view of those waiting on the north shore, and crossed the island barefoot, squatting behind low bushes to study what he could see of the far bank.

By the currents, the water was deep to the east but noisily shallow just to his left. He picked out what seemed the best crossing, eyed the opposite bank and the hillside. Still quiet, there. He backed away from the bank before standing and signing to his companion, who turned and waved to the others. The two men waited long enough to be certain the others were safely on the island before stepping into the water once more. Much later and it would be too dark to make out prints.

They crossed as quickly as they dared. M’Baddah emerged between two tall, bushy willows and slid into shadow behind smooth boulders, the Keep man right behind him. He stayed hidden, an arrow loosely held to his bowstring, while the outlander began moving slowly eastward, bent low, so he could study the damp, sandy bank.

Cat tracks here, plenty of deer once again, and what must be a sow bear, with at least one cub. He thought two, more likely. A bare space, where a rock ledge came far in to shore, and beyond that… M’Baddah crouched down and peered at the ground. Horses and horse droppings. Shod horses had come down to the water and gone away again, and there were enough overlaid tracks to show they’d come this way for many days. With them, boot prints—at least three men, possibly more.

They may be other men, and not those we seek, M’Baddah told himself, but it’s not likely. He eased to his feet, but before he could sign to his companion or those across the river, he heard the soft plod of heavy, hooved feet behind and above him—up the steep hillside and still among the trees—and the low voices of at least two men. He slid back along the rock shelf, ran sideways along the harder, drier sand above the waterline, and went down flat in deep shadow under a low bush just as the men came into sight. They were leading three horses each and grumbling.

A splash along the bank, farther to the east—M’Baddah held his breath as both men turned to look. Finally one of them sighed gustily.

“Just a fish. Let’s get these brutes their fill and get back to camp. I’m bored with horse duty.”

“Fish?” the other replied gruffly. “Big for a fish, wouldn’t you say? Besides, all the noise the horses make, we’d scare off a bear—and I didn’t hear anything big running away.”

Silence, as the two men listened intently. M’Baddah, scarcely daring to breath, slowly eased one hand to where he could reach his dagger hilt, and waited.