Ru Emerson - Keep on the Borderlands

They crossed as quickly as they dared. M’Baddah emergedbetween 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 croucheddown 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 threemen, possibly more.

They may be other men, and not those we seek, M’Baddah toldhimself, but it’s not likely. He eased to his feet, but before he could sign tohis 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-andthe 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 heldhis 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 backto camp. I’m bored with horse duty.”

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

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

It was silent next to the river for some moments. The horsewaterers were apparently listening intently. M’Baddah could hear his heartbeating, the sounds of horses drinking and shifting their feet on the bank, the faint gurgle of water flowing by. Finally one of the men spoke again.

“It was a fish, like I said. You know what this country’slike. There’s no one about between here and the Keep, especially after sundown.”

“Fine,” the other said. His voice was reedy and soundedsullen. “These brutes done drinking? Because we still got another string tobring down tonight.”

“You’re forgetting orders. Captain doesn’t like it when hisblack stallion gets restive up there in camp, on account he didn’t get to drinkhis fill. You don’t want the captain mad at you for neglecting his horse, not ifyou’re planning to stay here. And you remember what he tells all you new men ifhe decides you don’t get to stay.”

“I remember. He said we earn his trust before we get to go onany raids, and if any of us tries to leave on our own, we get tossed off that cliff up yonder.” He grumbled under his breath. “You’d think I was a spy fromthe Keep or something,” he added resentfully.

“Happens I believe you aren’t,” the first man said.

“Well, then-”

“I said I believe you. The captain may be my brother, but hemakes up his own mind about things.”

It was quiet for a long moment. M’Baddah shifted his weightcautiously.

“You don’t like how things are, that’s too bad. At least withus, you don’t have to walk perimeter guard that last cold hour before sunrise.”

The sullen man replied, but too quietly for M’Baddah to makeout what he said.

“Thought you understood that,” the captain’s brother said.“Fewer men we have wandering around the hillside, less chance the Keep men willsee ’em. Besides, we’ve got a sentry box way up high on the mountain. You’ll seefor yourself, one of these days, but I can tell you that anyone goes into or comes outta the Keep gates, someone up there sees it.”

M’Baddah could hear the stamping of restless horses, and thecaptain’s brother spoke again, his voice unexpectedly warm.

“Get enough there, Night? Good horse.”

The ground under the outlander’s body vibrated with the thudof hooves on hard-packed sand, and he heard the scrape of a shod hoof on stone. Sounds of men and horses gradually faded.

M’Baddah counted time with his fingers against one leg. Attwenty, he cautiously got to his feet. No one and nothing-then another scrape ofhooves against stone, far enough away and above him that he barely heard it above the sound of running water. He crossed back to the rock slab and cautiously waved upstream. The Keep man must have been waiting for that because he immediately came downstream. He was dripping wet.

“That splash-it was you they heard?” M’Baddah asked, one handcontinuing to press out the count, a finger at a time.

The man nodded.

“You heard any of that?”

“I was too far away.”

A wary eye to the hillside, M’Baddah quickly filled him in.“Go back to the island,” he said finally. “Tell the others. Send two back tocamp with word for Jerdren and Eddis, but tell the rest to remain on the island in case I need them. Tell my son and Willow to come here but to wait for my sign. Those men will come back with another string of horses, but I will be able to hear when they are coming. Tell M’Whan, the usual signal.”

The man merely nodded again and went.

Another count of forty. It was still quiet uphill. M’Baddahsignaled, waited for the elf and youth to ford the river, and drew them down the bank a ways.

Willow listened for a long moment. “We’re going up there?”

M’Baddah nodded. “The three of us. We will follow the twobandits when they take the second string of horses back to camp.”

M’Whan was watching the river, though it was getting too darkto see much. “How far up there do you think it is, Father?”

“A distance. I am keeping count.”

Both nodded. Willow eased back into shelter, and M’Whansettled down in the low brush with his father.

They didn’t have long to wait, but this time down, thebandits barely spoke, and as the horses finished drinking, one of them uncovered a dark lantern-just enough to light the path. Then they started back uphill.M’Baddah rose cautiously, as the sounds assured him the party could no longersee him, and was rewarded with a brief glimpse of movement a distance overhead. It vanished into the trees almost at once. He stepped onto the bank, and M’Whangot to his feet as Willow came back to join them.

M’Baddah pointed uphill and whispered, “Stay away from thewatering place. Leave no prints.”

He moved out silently, over flat rock and onto wiry grass, his son right behind him, the elf bringing up the rear, a strung bow and arrow bunched in one hand. Just beyond the grass was more stone, and then a rough path-an ankle-deep, shoulder-wide indentation in the dirt. It led away from thewater and up, into forest.

It was darker here. M’Baddah stepped aside, so Willow couldlead the way, since the elf could see clearly here. They moved quickly, for the path was clear and smooth. It wound between trees and up a gentle slope, then took a sharp turn and began to switchback up steeper ground, littered with fallen trees, rockslides, and boulders.

Willow stopped abruptly and touched his ear-a gesture theoutlander could barely make out, it was now so dark. Silence. Then M’Baddahcould hear it as well: the clink of a harness, just ahead and a little ways on. A thin, flickering beam of light touched a tree ahead and higher up, then vanished.

“No danger,” the elf whispered, “but we are close enough tothem, I think.”

Moments later, he was on the move again, but almost at once, he slid off to the side, behind a huge slab of rock and waited for the other two to join him.