Hero Born Page 27

  ‘Agreed,’ said Brann. ‘But, once over the river, where do we go? On the basis of what you have just said, they are most likely to watch only the approach directly up the valley, if they watch at all. If we circle round to the side, we will probably find it quieter.’

  Konall nodded. ‘Even if they do guard the side, which I doubt, their numbers would be light there. If they are anywhere, they will concentrate on the front.’

  Brann paused as a thought struck him. ‘Actually, it might be good to come across the occasional sentry that we could, well, dispose of.’

  Konall’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Your attitude is improving.’

  Brann smiled. ‘Far from it. Let me keep talking and I can forget how close to throwing up every part of this brings me.’

  ‘I never thought I would say it,’ Konall said dryly, ‘but please keep talking.’

  ‘What I mean is,’ Brann continued, ‘that if we kill a sentry, not only do we clear a path that we can retreat down in a hurry if we have to, but we can take his weapons.’ Continuing over Konall’s snort, he said, ‘I know they will be poor quality, but we may have to force a lock or a door, and it would be better not to have to use our own blades.’

  Konall nodded, approvingly. ‘And it would help to be able to arm the prisoners when we release them.’

  ‘Of course,’ Brann said. ‘But then, I think, we come to the most important part: how do we get back out?’

  ‘That is no problem,’ Konall said. ‘The settlement has no walls, so we leave any way we choose.’

  ‘Exactly,’ agreed Brann. ‘So I think we choose the best way now, rather than when it is more difficult to remember the layout of the village or the terrain around it. And we might have other pressing matters to deal with at the time. What’s more, we might be able to gain an advantage.’

  Konall’s interest grew. ‘In what way?’

  ‘Well, we do not know where the captives will be, or whether we will be able to remain undiscovered or will be fighting our way out. Or where the majority of the enemy will be at the time. But we do know where we want to go.’

  ‘Do we?’ Konall asked. ‘Apart from home, fast, that is.’

  ‘Yes we do, actually,’ Brann said, reflecting on the strange change of attitudes that saw him being the serious one and Konall offering flippant answers. ‘Back across the river as soon as possible.’ Konall raised a questioning eyebrow once more. ‘Well, if we are being chased, it will also slow down anyone following us, assuming we can get across without being shot.’

  ‘And without swallowing the water, which might be worse,’ Konall pointed out helpfully. Brann was not sure if he preferred the old Konall or the new one.

  He continued, choosing to ignore the comment. ‘If, on the other hand, we manage to slip away unnoticed, we can cross the river and choose between using the trees for concealment or the flat riverbank for speed. If we are being pursued, we can, again, use the riverbank for speed or the trees for cover from missiles. We can judge it best at the time.’ He stopped to reconsider. ‘Actually, if we are being chased, I think we should opt for speed: they will be racing down the other side to get to the bridge at the end of the valley – or any other bridge or ford we do not know about, to get ahead of us. Then we would have a big problem.’

  Konall shrugged. ‘We would have to go up and over the side of the valley and find another way home. But, if we do, we will enter unfamiliar country and there may be other patrols of these vermin, or even others of their nests, out there. Our best chance is to return the way we came, so it would be best to stay ahead of them.’ He frowned. ‘We should have destroyed the bridge.’

  It was Brann’s turn to shrug. ‘We were not to know. In any case, there may be other bridges, or fords, that we passed without noticing because we were among the trees, so it may have just been a waste of time or a sign to any returning patrols that someone unfriendly was in the area. And, anyway, we may not be allowed a chance to cross back over the river up here, so we may need the bridge ourselves.’

  ‘Pray that we can regain this bank,’ Konall said darkly. ‘I do not think much of our chances if it develops into a straight race down the open country of that side of the river, especially since the captives will have been weakened by their experience.’

  ‘I feel a great deal of prayer is needed to help us to return alive,’ Brann said, equally grimly.

  Staring at the encampment, Konall digested Brann’s suggestions. It did not take him long. ‘Not bad for a mill boy,’ he accepted. ‘You are full of surprises. I must say, I have never come across a stranger page.’ He paused, and his eyes almost twinkled. ‘I do not suppose Einarr would like to do a swap?’

  Brann grinned. ‘I will take that as a compliment and ignore the fact that the highest I can reach in your estimation is to be regarded as your servant.’

  His expression as serious as his tone, Konall replied, ‘Do not presume my good mood allows you to be impertinent. I can always withdraw such an attractive offer.’

  Brann laughed, but quickly checked himself as he remembered their situation. Still it was reassuring to know that Konall did, after all, possess a sense of humour. Albeit a unique one.

  Moving back into the cover of the trees, they moved upriver in the same cautious manner as before, but now with a definite purpose about them. And, once again, Brann felt sick.

  Chapter 9

  There was one among them who should not be there.

  In truth, none of them deserved to be there. In generations past, this calibre of man would not have risen to such lofty perches. They would know the ruling court only by tales from the lips of others, yet now they formed it. In generations past, the court would be ruled by those born to it, educated since birth to be equally adept in the skills of ruling and the machinations of courtly intrigue, alongside those few who had proved to have had those qualities bestowed upon them by fate and nature; now it was ruled by those who had bought their way to power, who ruled for self-aggrandisement and personal wealth.

  But generations past had passed, and a man can only ride the horse beneath him, no matter how much he wishes to better it. The court is what it is; his life is what it is.

  But rule for the gathering of power, such as had built the Empire, forces the ruler’s eyes outward, to watch each small part of his demesne, to maintain and grow the source of that power, and so the Empire prospers; rule for the garnering of riches and personal pleasure turns the ruler’s eyes inward, to his chambers, his treasury, his harem, and so the Empire’s many parts begin to rule themselves. The Empire must be run by one court, and one Emperor, for the greater good; if the court is run in its own interest, then the serving demesnes will run themselves in their own interest, and so an Empire is no more.

  But while they were undeserving of ruling the Empire, still they were from the race of lions. Weak, self-serving lions they may be, but lions they were nonetheless. But among them sat one who should not be there. Among them sat a jackal. A pale jackal from other lands, an envoy from distant shores who, with promises dipped in honey of wealth and luxury untapped, had been accepted, nay welcomed, by lions. A jackal, whose promises dipped in honey curried such favour that his whispered advice fell into receptive ears, ears that questioned not how the Empire would fare, but how their coffers would fill.

  A jackal who was a threat. But a threat need not be stamped upon. A threat can be used; a snake could be stamped upon, but equally could be lifted and set among the den of leopards harrying your goats. A coward would run. A swift man could crush the danger. But a wise man could use the danger to his advantage, if he could but find the way.

  The court was as it was. But it need not ever be so.

  It would not be so.

  ****

  Less than an hour later, Brann and Konall were working their way back through the now-familiar woods opposite the village. Their study of the settlement from further upriver had proved fruitful: not only had they spotted a building that was more substantial than t
he rest, with two guards at the entrance – surely a prison of some sort – but an unexpected bonus had also presented itself. Bobbing gently at the water’s edge, beside a rough wooden platform that was probably meant to serve as a jetty but which was as much under the water as above it, were five or six long, low boats. Even if they were not sufficient to offer a means of travel – and escape – down the river, they would at least give them a quicker, and drier, means of re-crossing the river, assuming that that avenue proved to be open to them. The condition of the boats was impossible to tell in the increasing gloom of dusk, but discovering them had boosted the boys’ confidence.

  They returned downriver in silence to the point from which they had originally watched the village, and hid their packs under the cover of a large and thick bush. The spot was marked by a leafy branch that Konall had rammed upright close to the river’s edge. ‘Anyone seeing it will know it is a marker,’ he said, ‘but they will not know what it is signalling. In any case, it will not be visible from the village, especially at night, and if we are still here when they are up and wandering about tomorrow, then we will have more to worry us than finding our packs.’

  Following Konall’s lead, Brann stripped and bundled his clothes together, wrapping them tightly in his cloak. The pair waded slowly into the water, the chill around Brann’s ankles feeling like ice, and he hesitated, his natural reaction being to do anything other than move into deeper water. Taking a deep breath of resolution and gritting his teeth, he forced himself forward, but his determination caused him to move more quickly than he had meant and, as the water reached his thighs, he splashed slightly.

  Konall twisted round, hissing, ‘If you wish to attract arrows, do it away from me.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Brann whispered. ‘It is just so cold that I wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible.’

  ‘You will certainly feel no pain once an arrow or six have been in you for a while.’

  Brann nodded. ‘I admit, that consequence is rather less appealing. It will not happen again.’

  Konall softened. ‘Ensure that is so. For both of our sakes. Anyhow, once you have been in the water for a few moments, your body will become accustomed to it.’ He felt ahead with his foot. ‘It gets deeper sharply here, so swim on your back. You can do that, can you not?’

  ‘Yes. Why?’

  ‘It is easier to hold your clothes out of the water that way. No point in taking them all off and then getting them wet after all, is there?’

  Brann did not feel an answer was needed.

  They reached the far bank without any further noise. The pain from the cold, if anything, had increased as they progressed and made breathing more difficult with every passing second. Although the river was not wide enough for them to be long enough submerged for numbness to set in, Brann still felt, as he climbed onto the grassy bank, that his limbs were stiffening up.

  ‘Well, I did not get used to the cold at all,’ he whispered crossly.

  Konall shrugged. ‘If it is any consolation, neither did I.’

  Brann’s eyes widened. ‘But I thought you said…’

  ‘It got you moving into deeper water,’ Konall cut in. ‘Anyway, what temperature did you expect? This is a mountain river. You will not get many hot springs up here.’

  Brann began to unwrap his clothes. ‘All I can say is: we had better make it to those boats.’

  ‘Get dried quickly,’ Konall advised. ‘Once we are moving again, your arms and legs will ease and you will heat up. Wipe yourself with your cloak, but shake off as much as you can like a dog does, first. That way, your cloak will dry quicker as we walk, and you do not want it to be soaking – drips make noise.’

  Shortly afterwards – Brann had never dried himself more quickly, as much from a desire not to be discovered undressed and unready by any locals as from the cold – they were on their way. Konall had turned his clothes and cloak inside-out, and told Brann to do the same. The garments were a darker shade of grey on the reverse, making them less visible in the dark. They crept through the gloom, part way up a hillside to the left of the village. It never seemed to get completely dark in this country but, when Brann had mentioned this to Konall the previous night, the older boy had merely shrugged and suggested that Brann extend his visit until the winter, when it never seemed to get totally light. ‘We appreciate the sunlight when we have it,’ he had said simply.

  The shadows, however, were deep and although the hillside was empty of all vegetation, taller than grass, fires in the village made the unlit surroundings seem darker by comparison.

  Both had arrows nocked to their bowstrings, as they had done in the forest. This time, however, Brann had reverted to holding a couple of spare shafts along his bow – if they had to use their bows, it was likely that they would have to do so rapidly and repeatedly to try to ensure that no alarm was raised and, in such circumstances, every second would be vital.

  Konall froze. Brann automatically half-drew his bow and strained his eyes for a target. Konall, noticing his reaction, shook his head and beckoned Brann forward beside him. He pointed down, behind the buildings. As Brann stared hard in the direction of the boy’s finger, he began to make out dim, but regular, shapes, and some movement among them. He looked questioningly at Konall.

  ‘Tents,’ the older boy breathed into his ear.

  Brann nodded in understanding. ‘The more senior bandits live separately,’ he whispered in reply.

  Konall shook his head in exasperation. ‘These, ordered; village chaos,’ he said, his voice barely loud enough to be called a whisper, and keeping his words to a minimum. ‘So must be “others” present. In force: tents for around forty, set out in military style. Probably bandits in normal sense, with warrior training, not like rest of vermin down there. Or maybe mercenaries. Either way…’

  Brann swallowed. ‘Not good news.’

  Konall pulled his head close and cupped his hands around Brann’s ear as he went into greater detail. ‘Think not all are there. A party arrived, on horses – that’s what caught my attention. If it is Loku, others from tents would have come out to greet, but no movement there. Also, picket lines for horses and supplies for the beasts, but no horses other than those that have just come in. Think they use this as base. Others maybe patrolling or raiding. If Loku, better move fast or captives are dead.’

  Brann started forward immediately. Konall’s hand on his shoulder stayed him.

  ‘Easy,’ he whispered. ‘Know my page from birth. I care, too. Me first – better eyes.’

  Brann nodded his acknowledgement. He dropped behind Konall once more, but was glad to see the tall figure moving at a faster pace. They would take their chances with sentries – finding the prisoners urgently had become a far greater consideration – although the change was comparative: they still moved with care, just to a lesser degree. They would free no one if they ran into an ambush.

  They reached the outskirts of the village, however, without encountering anyone. Whether the lack of sentries was due to the slovenly, dim-witted nature of the inhabitants they had observed already, or the lack of expectation that any outsiders would approach, the pair did not care. Their thoughts were confined to heading for their target, and being ready to react instantly if necessary.

  When they started between the first of the buildings, Konall swapped his bow for his sword. Brann realised that any person they came across unexpectedly would be more likely to be within the range of the blade, and did likewise. His heart pounding and sweat threatening to drip into his eyes despite the night chill, he followed Konall’s example and stayed close to the buildings, keeping as much as he could to the shadows cast by the spectacularly bright moon. It was late enough for the inhabitants to be under cover, and a selection of snores and grunts attested to the fact that they were asleep within the shacks that the pair crept past.

  They had to remember to look down as well as forwards, however – not infrequently, they had been forced to step terrifyingly over the slumped bodies
of those who had not managed indoors before falling asleep. The first such bandit they had encountered had not been afforded such cautious treatment: Konall had, while starting from the shadow of one hut to another, stumbled over what he thought was a heap of rags. The bandit wearing the rags had begun to rouse and, in an instant, Konall had pressed the keen edge of his sword, one hand at either end of the weapon to force it down, against the man’s throat. With his full weight upon the blade, it had sliced almost all the way through the bandit’s neck. The man’s eyes had widened in shock at the first pressure, and Brann had grabbed a handful of rags and held them hard against his victim’s mouth to stifle any noise he may manage.

  There had been no need. The eyes had turned blank as the life flowed from the bandit’s neck in moments.

  Brann had stared at the tableau, gripped by the horror of the silent, swift and coldly deliberate end of a man’s life. Konall had looked up at him briefly, wiped his sword on the man’s rags and moved on. This was not the occasion for counselling, and he knew that Brann had no option but to follow. He was right, but Brann was hugely relieved when he saw Konall notice, and step over, the subsequent sleeping forms.

  They were making their way, as accurately as they could manage, towards the prison – if it could be given so grand a title – that they had spotted from across the river.

  Following Konall closely, Brann realised that he was merely staring at the boy’s back. He was unable to help in spotting any potential trouble and, if they were accosted, he would have to move around Konall to assist him. Yet, if he moved alongside him, he would have to leave the shadows and would be more likely to be seen. Moving, as they had done in the woodlands, in the overlapping manoeuvre that allowed one to always cover the other would be too slow and would, in any case, involve the use of bows to provide cover – and they had already decided that swords were the most appropriate weapons in these surroundings.