A Crown Imperiled (23 page)

The rain brought one blessing: it muddied their trail and conspired to keep them hidden from searchers.

They had come ashore just minutes before the pirates and had climbed a narrow pathway up the twenty-foot escarpment. While not too high, the bluffs were difficult to climb and the pirates almost overtook them as a result. A few well-pitched rocks by Hal and Ty slowed them down for a few moments while the two young women reached the tree line and then the two noble sons sprinted after them.

Once in the woods, Ty showed an almost supernatural ability to pick a course through the thick trees, enough to impress Hal who had grown up running through forests all his life. Ty had learned a great deal of Orosini lore from his father, one of the last of his mountain tribal people. Talwin Hawkins, once called Talon of the Silver Hawk, had spent a year and many resources helping those few survivors rebuild their traditions. A single Orosini village now lived once more in the mountains to the north-east of where Ty and the others waited, and perhaps some day the Orosini would reclaim their ancient lands.

The pirates were uncompromising in their determination to overtake the fugitives. For reasons Hal and the others could only guess at, they had not given up the chase after the first few hours, as had been hoped, but simply kept at it. Hal didn’t know if it was by some magic or intelligence, or simply on a whim that they had decided the four in the boat were worth the effort of apprehending. Stephané was highly recognizable to anyone familiar with Roldem, so perhaps a sailor had spied her white-blonde hair and striking beauty from a distance. Perhaps they had simply assumed these were fugitives from Roldem who might bring a handsome ransom if caught. But for whatever reason, they just kept coming.

The previous night, the four of them had found a naturally-formed rock outcropping around which Ty had fashioned a rough shelter. It had proven adequate enough they had managed to sleep a while, the two young men splitting the watch. Early in the morning they had found the King’s Highway, but following it had almost ended in disaster.

A band of mercenaries or bandits had ridden unexpectedly over a rise, and they had managed to get off into the undergrowth before being discovered. For the rest of the morning they had moved parallel to the road, but keeping off the road for fear of sudden discovery.

Every so often Hal would fall back to see if they were still being followed, only to discover that the same band that had come off the beach was still doggedly in pursuit.

When the rains came they sought out shelter and found the overhang and waited for the misery to abate. They said little, whispering to avoid being overheard, taking what comfort they could salvage from their closeness and the hope of eventual arrival at a haven. From what little they could see, the coast seemed subject to all manner of predation, and ravagers seemed to roam free. Hal had decided their best course was westward, for though they might have to circle and skirt raiders along the coast, inland they could forage and hunt, and eventually as they moved deeper into the Kingdom, they were certain to find royal forces to protect them.

Ty said, ‘I think I’m going to take a quick look around and see if those pirates are still after us.’

‘Be careful,’ said Stephané as she huddled between Hal and Gabriella.

He waved casually and vanished into the darkening forest.

‘What time do you think it is?’ asked the Princess a moment later.

Hal said, ‘Difficult to tell, but I think it’s almost midday.’

Gabriella nodded. ‘My best guess as well.’

‘What’s Crydee like?’ asked the Princess.

Hal considered for a moment, then said, ‘Not too unlike here. A little cooler I would expect. We’re a bit farther north than this coast, and you’ve got all that warm current coming up from Kesh here. It’s why all the islands in the Sea of Kingdoms are so lush. Where I’m from it’s a bit more rugged.

‘But it’s home.’ He got a faraway look and said, ‘The sunsets are magnificent, as you look out straight to the west from the top of the keep. It’s best in the summer when the days are long and you can sip wine or drink beer as you watch after supper. The evenings are soft and gentle.’ Then he laughed. ‘Unless you get one of these,’ he said, indicating the rain. ‘We have a fair share of summer squalls there, too.’

‘I’d like to see Crydee,’ she said. ‘Other places, too.’

‘Maybe some day you will, Highness,’ said Hal, instinctively moving just a bit closer.

Rather than pull away, she snuggled against him. ‘I doubt it. Princesses don’t travel, except if they’re meeting kings or princes, if possible marriages are being arranged, and I don’t think any member of the Royal Family in Roldem has ever seen Krondor, let alone the Far Coast. Oh, we’ve read about it, because, well it’s your history in the Isles, and Roldem and the Isles are brother nations, I’ve been taught since I was a baby.’

‘I believe we’ve had a war or two along the way,’ said Hal lightly, ‘but otherwise, yes, we are close.’ He looked down at her in the grey light and with her hair matted against her head and her nose slightly red from the cold weather, she still looked beautiful to him.

He stopped staring when he felt Gabriella’s eyes on him. Pushing away the feelings that were starting to form in his chest, he let out a long, silent sigh.

‘I wish it would stop raining,’ said the Princess softly.

‘It will soon,’ he promised.

A few minutes later, Ty came hurrying back and ducked under the overhanging rocks to kneel next to Gabriella. ‘They’re still following us. They’re hunkered down less than a mile back. I almost walked into them, as they’re under an overhang like this one. They’re not being very quiet about their complaints, so I heard them before blundering in.’

Hal said, ‘Then we should get moving. We’re hardly any drier for staying here, the wind is lowering, and if we put more distance between us, perhaps the rain will wash away our tracks.’

Ty glanced at the young women. Gabriella just nodded once with emphasis and the Princess said, ‘I’m ready.’

They moved off and headed west.

Princess Stephané stumbled and Hal barely got his hand out in time to keep her from falling into the soggy, muddy mess of leaves, twigs, and water they struggled through. Ty had been reading the land as they went, trying to find the best course that would also have the best chance of throwing off their pursuers. The rain had fallen off to a constant mist, enough to keep everything wet, but not so much that they could count on the pirates staying put.

They travelled uphill from the King’s Highway but out of sight of any casual passer-by. The footing was treacherous and they moved slower than any of them liked, trying to avoid a nasty tumble down the hillside.

Mud was tricky, for it could either quickly be washed away, hiding tracks, or it could hold as small pools for a long time providing easy to read tracks. Moreover, it could yank a boot off a foot covered in wet stockings. The sandy soil on the hillside was better while it was raining as it quickly eroded any signs of passage, but now that the rain was slackening, that was less likely. So rocks were best of all, for any mud they tracked on them was quickly washed away in the still sheeting run-off.

So against every instinct they followed difficult terrain rather than keeping to the easy, more open passages in the woods. Hal kept looking back while Ty picked out the trail, Gabriella and Stephané between them.

Ty said, ‘Quiet! I hear something.’

Everyone stopped moving and listened, and a moment later the others could hear movement behind and downhill from them. ‘Behind the trees!’ whispered Hal, pointing to a thick stand of beech trees a few yards ahead. Their branches were hanging low, with water still dripping off them, and it was the best cover they could manage.

They ducked behind the slender boles and crouched, gathering their dark cloaks around them, hoping that the shadow and mist would hide them. Within a minute they could see men moving on a parallel course to their own, but perhaps ten or fifteen yards farther downhill. Through the trees they could make out a man in a russet long-sleeved shirt and black vest, and see the exasperation on his face as he shouted at another man, ‘You said they were coming this way!’

There were eight pirates, and they were wet, miserable, obviously cold from the wind, and no doubt as hungry as the fugitives, but they were bearing up with considerably less grace. The leader stopped and looked around, glancing directly at their hiding position, but their mud-spattered travel cloaks and the gloom conspired to keep them almost invisible.

‘Damn it!’ the man in the black vest shouted. ‘If we come back without her, it’ll be our necks in a noose, and that’s if we’re lucky!’ He turned and jabbed a finger into the chest of another man. ‘You’re supposed to be our best tracker. Why can’t we find them?’

Frustration was fraying tempers and the other man yelled back, ‘Because whoever’s with her knows his way about these woods, Marstan. He’s clambered over every bloody boulder, walked up sand washes, waded down pebble bed creeks, used every trick there is.’ His bald head sheeted water as he hunched his broad shoulders. ‘But I’ll wager my share of the booty that they’re close enough to hit with a rock.’

The man named Marstan turned full circle, ‘But which way?’

‘This rain, I’m saying back downhill,’ said the tracker. ‘More mess washing down these hills and the ground’s full on as wet as can be; leeches the sand out in place, leaving cracks in the soil; big hunks of it can come crashing down without warning.’ He glanced around and moved his hand in a circle. ‘Lots of years the King spends his taxes clearing all the road below ’cause half these bloody hills come washing down every third or fourth rainy season.’ He pointed directly up at the four crouching hiders. ‘Wouldn’t want to be up there on top of all that ground if it suddenly comes sliding down. Besides, they’ve been staying close enough to the road to see where they’re going.’ He turned and pointed downhill slightly. ‘They’re probably heading that way. Only five more miles to the garrison at Farborough, so they may feel safe enough even to be back on the road.’

The man called Marstan nodded once and moved in the indicated direction and the others quickly followed.

Ty waited until they were gone then said, ‘Glad I picked up and not downhill.’

‘Where do we go?’

Ty smiled. ‘We follow them. The one place they won’t be looking for us is behind them.’

‘Is that wise?’ asked the Princess.

‘Not very, but it’s less risky if we know where they are. Less chance we’ll blunder into them or give ourselves away by accident. Just be as quiet as you can and ready to run if I tell you.’

Lady Gabriella and Hal nodded.

‘Good,’ said Ty. ‘Let’s go.’

Into the now-driving rain they moved, following the pirates who were seeking them.

The afternoon wore on. Ty stayed as close as he could to the pirates, keeping the back of the last pair trudging through the mud in sight, and the others lingered far behind the young noble from Opardum. He felt confident of being able to avoid detection should the pirates double back to check if they were followed or otherwise proved problematic for the fugitives from Roldem. He held up his hand and turned behind a bole, and Hal moved in the same direction, the two young women a moment behind.

One of the pirates had glanced over his shoulder and now stood motionless as if he had seen something. He was on the verge of speaking when a shout from ahead caused him to turn. Hal could barely make him out but had no doubt he was pulling his sword and running forward. Turning to the women he said, ‘Stay here and don’t move.’ He nodded to Gabriella to emphasize she was responsible now for the Princess’s safety, then hurried to where Ty waited. By the time he reached him the sounds of combat were unmistakable. The two young men moved as quickly as the terrain allowed, and came to a small rise where they both fell to the ground, ignoring the mud, and crawled forward to observe the conflict.

A dozen horsemen in the royal tabard of the Kingdom, wearing badges familiar to Hal, were cutting through the pirates like a scythe through wheat. The pirate leader, Marstan, was face down in the mud, his blood pooling around him, while five others also were dead or dying on the ground. The last two pirates were attempting to run downhill, never a good idea with horses in pursuit, and died before they got out of sight.

Ty grinned and was about to say something when Hal put his hand over his mouth. He pulled himself close so that Ty’s ear was less than an inch from his lips and whispered, ‘Boots.’

Ty looked and his eyes widened in understanding. The riders were dressed as Kingdom light cavalry, but sported a wide variety of boots, some not even proper riding boots. The riders who had cut down the last pirates returned and as they reined in, the entire unit showed no sign of military discipline. One man said, ‘Well, you know the orders. If that idiot Marstan didn’t have her, she’s somewhere up in those woods.’

‘You sure, Gravan? Maybe they headed back towards the Eastern Kingdoms.’

‘You get paid to kill, not think, Colver. If what I was told is right, she’s with two pups from the Kingdom – one’s some duke’s kid – and a bodyguard. Don’t take that one lightly. She’s a woman, but she’s a killer.’ He stood up in his stirrups and looked around into the trees. ‘If we’re going to search, we need better weather.’ He pointed to the bodies on the road. ‘Let’s clear away the trash and pull back a way. If they think it’s clear ahead to Farborough, they may just come wandering in without any help.’ He sat back down and said, ‘I’m going back to report. Finish up here and take a quick look, but I’ll be surprised if you find anything. Get back and I’ll start organizing a proper search.’

The lead rider put his heels to his horse and set off down the road while the other eleven men dismounted, three taking reins, and leading the horses away, while the others began gathering the dead. As they started carrying the first two downhill, it was clear the closest thing to a proper pyre they’d come across was a sailor’s burial at sea, or being tossed off a cliff into the surf.