Ru Emerson - Keep on the Borderlands

Jerdren opened his mouth and closed it again. Finally he shrugged. “Maybe I’m not done with it yet, Blor. After all, you still enjoythis.”

“Yes, but we also promised each other that one wouldn’t tiethe other down. Doesn’t matter if I enjoy hiring out if you’re bored with it.”

Jerdren sighed faintly and shook his head. “We’ll talk aboutit once we reach the Keep.”

“We’ll do that,” Blor replied mildly. He glanced around. “Weshould take a proper break here. Eat a little, finish off the water bottles. The land’s a lot more open than at the branch-off to the Keep.”

Jerdren chuckled.

“What?” Blorys asked.

“You don’t really think someone would be fool enough toattack us at the base of that road? After the damage we just did back there? Besides, the castellan may not send armed parties out into the wilds any more, but his men can see most of that branch road from the walls. Not likely he’d let anyone get away with jumping their trade right at the front door!”

“Maybe,” Blorys said evenly, “but it’s gone from bad to worseout here, just in the three years we’ve guided caravans, and he keeps pullingback closer and closer to the walls every year. He hasn’t much choice.” Hegrinned crookedly, patted his brother awkwardly on the shoulder. “Sorry. Youknow all that, same as I do.”

“Never mind,” Jerdren replied easily.

They took a proper meal break in the open, then halted again briefly where the Keep road branched. Here the woods pressed closer and jumbled piles of boulders and slabbed rock were everywhere. The hired men kept watch up and down the road so Lhodis, his cutter, and two of his apprentices could mount the horses that had been tied to the rear wagon. The remaining merchant folk redistributed themselves in the three wagons, to make the hard climb as easy as possible for the teams. Blorys dismounted to help adjust stirrups and girths. Jerdren sat his bay gelding and kept a careful eye on the east woods and the road threading its narrow, rutted way through the trees. Eventually it vanished into tree shadow where the woods came down to meet it.

Jerdren glanced up as the sun went behind a cloud, and a light, chill wind blew between his coif and the back of his neck. The air felt damp, all at once. Rain or perhaps even snow by nightfall, he thought. Snow was something he’d only appreciate from inside the Keep’s tavern, with a good mug ofale in his hands and a belly full of the taverner’s best stew warming him.

Blorys had finished with the horses and stopped to talk briefly with the gray-beard who was running the a careful check on the last of the wagon-brakes. He called the hired men in and went over to join his brother, who was still gazing down the east track.

“Wonder what’s out there, these days.” Jerdren said.

“Nothing a clever man would want,” Blorys replied.

The older brother roused himself. “What?” he challenged. “Youdon’t believe in the fabled riches of the east? All the tales we heard back inbarracks?”

Blorys grinned. “Parnisun’s Castle made of gold and gems? No.And you don’t either. Any road as rutted and narrow as that doesn’t lead to apalace, unless it’s one like the Ogre King’s house of bones.”

“Be something to see, anyway,” Jerdren said thoughtfully. “No ogres,” Bloryssaid firmly. “No east road. Let’s go. It feels like it’s about to snow outhere.”

Late afternoon sun glimmered pale through thin, high clouds,and a chill breeze gusted fitfully. At the base of the Keep road, four horses stood close together with their heads down and tails to the wind. One rider sat his mount in the middle of the east road, keeping watch all around them. Two men-a graying man clad in a priest’s robes and a black-haired youth in noviceyellow-stayed in comparative shelter with the horses, a little apart from theothers. The novice spoke now and again. The priest occasionally nodded his head or signed for silence. The elder man was composed, his face serene. The youth tugged at his garments or shoved hair from his face, his fingers never still. He started as a strong gust moaned through the rocks.

A short distance away, the remaining two members of the small company drank from their water bottles and shared a wafer of crisp travel bread. One was a medium-sized, dark-skinned man who wore foreign-seeming armor of woven, hardened leather, reinforced in places with metal, the whole painted in dark red and black. His companion, a slender woman, topped him by half a head. She wore dark, serviceable leathers and a plain cuirass under a thick, black cloak. Both were extremely watchful, in their own ways. The man used little but his eyes, now and again easing partway around on one heel, his movements sparing and graceful. The woman paced, her head moving sharply as she gazed around, a long, pale braid whipping across her shoulders. She brushed crumbs from her cloak with impatient fingers.

“We will go soon, I think,” the man said. His common speechwas soft, slightly accented, his voice low and resonant. His cheekbones were high, his eyes golden-brown and tipped up at the corners. He looked young and vigorous from a distance, and only at close range could one make out fine lines around his eyes and a few gray hairs in the neat beard. “The horses do notrequire much more rest, since we did not push them hard today. Not even the packhorse of the priests, laden as it is. Even your horse-” He ducked hishead politely as the woman rounded on him. “Your pardon, Eddis.”

The woman’s mouth quirked. Her eyes were deep blue, and asshe looked at him, some of the fire went from them. She was still visibly nervy.

“All right, M’Baddah. Apology accepted, my friend. I know.You’re doing your best to get me over that stupid horse of mine. Feather! Whatfool would name a foul brute like that?”

“His previous owner, who wished to find a buyer for thebrute, as you call him? A buyer like his current owner, who chose for pretty and for price, rather than testing him thoroughly first, as I suggested at the time. The horse is an attractive fellow, and when he wishes, he does indeed move smoothly as a feather.”

“Hah.”

That was just like M’Baddah, Eddis thought. Trying to talkher out of a foul mood. It upset the clients, he reminded her. It took her attention and her energy from things that mattered-such as keeping the clientssafe. Hah, she told herself. Not one client so much as scratched in my care! And as for my moods-well, my clients know what they’re getting. By now, they shouldknow. I’ve got a reputation, after all. A corner of her mind was uncomfortablyaware he was probably right, but she was too cold and stiff and-yes-nervy, to besoothed just now.

“Sure. Until it decides to balk at something like a leaf or arabbit, and I’m flat on my back in the middle of the road!”

“My Eddis, please. This just now was not a leaf, was it?”

“I-all right, it wasn’t.”

It had raised the hair on her neck: A pale slash of road suddenly darkened and sticky with blood, and a dead pony in the ditch, just around a bend in the road, where it would startle anyone, never mind an idiot horse.

“I, myself, was caught by surprise,” M’Baddah admitted. “Somuch blood, still fresh-an ugly riddle.”

“Hardly that, M’Baddah. I’ve always thought that stretch ofroad looked like a good spot for an ambush.”

“I agree. Likely the caravan that has stayed half a day aheadof us since the pass. I would say from the signs that those who laid the trap lost the battle.”

“No broken, burned-out wagons, anyway. Whoever they are, theymight have shoveled some loose dirt over the mess they left.” She shivered as agust of wind billowed her cloak. “I thought our novice there was going tofaint.” She sighed angrily. “Wretched horse. I could’ve broken my neck!”