Ghostwalker (Book 1) (2 page)

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Authors: Ben Cassidy

BOOK: Ghostwalker (Book 1)
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He had hit the man, there was no doubt of that. And now he was on the same side of the trail as his attacker, though he couldn’t see him anymore through the trees and mist.

Kendril jammed his ramrod down the length of the rifle barrel, pushing the bullet and the cloth that held it snugly in place along the metal grooves. His eyes never left the forest in front of him.

To his left was the muddy trail, just a few feet away. Ahead of him the forest began to slope upwards, and somewhere beyond the crest was where his attacker had emerged from the bushes. The hill before him ended abruptly to the left in the steep rocky outcropping. It was an ideal spot to wait in ambush for travelers coming up the trail. Kendril had no doubt that that was why his attacker had chosen it.

After a minute and a half, Kendril slapped the ramrod back into its slot on the undercarriage of the rifle. The weapon was fully loaded once more. The complicated reloading process for a rifle generally took much longer than for a smoothbore musket, but it was far more accurate at a much greater distance. It was times like this that made Kendril glad he had it.

Still, in this heavy undergrowth a rifle wouldn’t be of much good. Kendril slung the long arm onto his back, and pulled out one of his pistols. Taking another deep breath, he began to creep forwards. His eyes scanned the woods around him alertly.

Moving slowly and cautiously, Kendril made it to the top of the forested hill. Gently moving a fern out of his way, he saw the sudden drop-off to his left, and the trail ten feet below.

Before him was some blood on the tangled grass.

Kendril gave a wolfish grin, then followed the red trail, trying to move as quietly as possible through the undergrowth.

It was not a difficult track to follow. The man was bleeding badly. It was hard to go more than five or six feet without seeing another few spots of blood.

Kendril wasn’t a skilled pathfinder by any means, but even a half-blind child could follow a trail like this one.

He was just starting to consider whether he should break off the pursuit and find his mule again when he emerged into a small clearing.

Kendril instantly dropped to one knee and scanned the open space before him with his weapon at the ready.

There was what looked like a campsite on one side next to a couple tall trees, a log that had obviously been used for a bench, and a smoldering campfire. Some pots and pans lay strewn around the ashes of the fire.

Kendril bit his lip, grimacing. It was a small clearing, but large enough if his attacker was waiting for him to come into the open so he could ambush him again.

Then again, Kendril doubted that the man was any kind of condition to fire his musket at this point.

Kendril ducked out into the open clearing, his pistol ready for quick action. The trail of blood led to the campfire, and Kendril dashed through the tall grass until he was next to the log. He glanced down at the fire pit.

It had been put out hurriedly, and not too long ago.

A soft moan to his left caught his attention. Kendril spun around instantly, his pistol leveled and ready to fire.

He almost dropped his weapon in surprise.

Tied against one of the trees by the remains of the campfire, her back to the wet bark, was a young woman. She wore a tattered green dress, her blonde hair hanging in disarray around her face. Her head hung to one side, and her eyes were closed. Her face was pale, almost white, and the side of her head was stained with dried blood from a wound to her right temple, where a large purple bruise still lingered.

For a moment Kendril hesitated, unsure of what to do. This hadn’t exactly been what he had expected to find.

A twig snapped behind him, and Kendril turned swiftly, his pistol again at the ready.

A man dressed in a simple hunter’s clothes emerged from the forest twenty feet away. One hand clutched his bloody side, the other held a sword. His eyes were wild, with an almost crazed look to them.

He started to come forward.

Kendril pulled the trigger of his pistol. There was a brief spark, then a flash, but nothing else.

The gun, damp from the rain, had misfired.

The bandit came at him, swinging his heavy sword at Kendril’s head.

Cursing, Kendril tossed his pistol away and ducked back from the blow.

The blade swiped through the air where his head had been moments before, and the man staggered off-balance from the missed swing.

Kendril turned and drew his own short sword with his free hand.

The man recovered, bringing his sword down once again in a clumsy attack.

Kendril blocked the blow with little effort, then slashed in with his own sword and caught the man in the neck with a well-aimed thrust.

With a strange gargling noise, the bandit collapsed to the ground, then rolled over onto his back. He didn’t move.

Kendril took a step back, then quickly wiped his blade clean on the grass before returning it to his scabbard. He picked up his pistol from where he had tossed it on the ground and glanced back towards the girl.

She was still lying unconscious against the tree.

Turning back to the man he had killed, he searched him, but found nothing on him save some musket balls, powder, and a small knife.

 Kendril turned away in disgust, and raised his hood again against the falling rain. He looked back at the young woman.

If it hadn’t been for the dried blood on her face, she would have looked almost peaceful. She certainly was beautiful, even despite her wretched condition.

He sighed and stuck his pistol back in his belt. One thing was sure.

He was through taking shortcuts.

 

 

Chapter 2

 

It didn’t take very long to find Simon. The mule was wandering aimlessly in the bushes a little ways up the trail. He brayed happily when Kendril appeared.

“Faithful as always, huh?” Kendril asked the beast as he grabbed his bridle. “First sign of danger and you bolt like a rabbit.”

Simon gave him a sloppy kiss on the side of his face.

Kendril pushed the mule’s head away. “Come on,” he said. “And stay close this time, okay?”

The mule grunted his acknowledgement.

Kendril had half-hoped the woman would just be gone when he returned. It would certainly have made things easier. He could have searched around for a bit, shrugged his shoulders, and continued on his way. But she was still there, right where he had left her. It didn’t look like she had moved at all.

Simon gave an unhappy snort at the smell of blood.

Kendril gave him a sour look. “Quit whining, you big lout. Here, hold still.”

He removed some items from the pack on the mule’s back, then tied Simon to a branch on one of the nearby trees.

The animal immediately began searching the undergrowth for something to eat.

With a sigh, Kendril pulled his gloves on, then turned to the woman.

He cut her bonds, and then carried her over to one of the logs by the campfire, resting her gently against it. After a quick search for the driest pieces of wood he could find, he started a small fire, warming some water over it while he pulled some clean cloth out of the saddlebag.

Within ten minutes he had cleaned out her wound with the water and tied the white cloth over it as a bandage.

That done, he heated up some more water, made some coffee, and leaned back against one of the trees, drinking the steaming liquid out of a tin cup and watching the rain soundlessly.

About half an hour later, the girl gave a sigh. Her eyes fluttered open. She stared at the fire for a moment, closed her eyes, than opened them again.

With a jerk she sat upright, the blanket falling from her shoulders. She stared quickly at Kendril, her eyes wide with fear. She opened her mouth, but the words seemed to catch in her throat.

Kendril didn’t look at her. “Are you hungry? There’s some bread, if you want. A little bit of dried meat, too.”

She pivoted her head, taking in the small campfire, and Simon tied up a few feet away. She turned her gaze back to Kendril.

“What do you want with me?” she said.

He shrugged. “I don’t want anything with you.”

The woman gave him a confused look. “Where am I?”

Her eyes were blue, Kendril noticed. He had been betting brown.

“Somewhere in the Howling Woods. Don’t ask me exactly where. I’m not quite sure myself. Do you know how you came to be here?”
The woman began to answer, then stopped. Her eyes showed a flash of puzzlement, then fear. “I…I don’t remember,” she said, her voice shaking a bit. She reached up, and gingerly touched the bandage on the side of her head.

Simon snorted, pawing the ground.

Kendril ignored him. “Looks like you took a pretty nasty blow to the head,” he said. “You were probably out for a while. Are you injured?”

The young woman stared at the campfire, then back at Kendril. “No. No, I don’t…I don’t think so. Just this.” She touched her bandage again. She stared at Kendril, her eyes showing her uncertainty.

He glanced up at the cloudy sky. The rain was finally dying down. “I’m not going to hurt you, if that’s what you’re wondering. What’s your name?”

She started, then stared into the fire again. She closed her eyes. “I don’t remember.”

Kendril tilted his head. “You don’t remember your own name?”

She opened her eyes again. “I don’t remember anything. I can’t…” Her voice began to break, but she fought back her tears with determination. “I can’t remember anything,” she continued, her voice steady once again. “It’s like I just woke up by this fire for the first time.”

Kendril leaned forward. “You don’t remember who attacked you? Where you were before this?”

She shook her head.

Kendril got to his feet, shaking the raindrops off his cloak. “Can you stand?”

“Maybe,” she said. “Yes, I can try.”

He stretched out a gloved hand.

She took it, rising rather shakily to her feet.

Kendril led her away from the fire, supporting her with one arm.

They reached the body of the dead man lying in the grass. Kendril flipped it over with his foot, watching her face carefully. There was no sign of recognition in her eyes.

She glanced away quickly. “You killed him?” There was new fear in her voice.

“He tried to kill
me
,” Kendril responded testily. “Ambushed me on the trail back there. I followed him back here and found you tied up. You don’t recognize him at all?”

She shook her head again.

Kendril scowled. Wonderful.

By the time they reached the campfire, she was able to walk by herself. She lowered herself onto the log, clutching her knees with her hands.

Kendril remained standing, leaning against one of the trees a few feet away. “Let me get this straight. You can’t remember anything? Nothing at all?”

She nodded slowly, the color draining from her face. A tear streamed down her cheek. She bit her lip until it grew white.

Kendril mumbled a curse, staring out across the clearing for a moment. If she was lying, she was a pretty convincing actor. His gut told him that she wasn’t. Unfortunately, that meant that the only other person who could answer his questions was lying dead a few yards away.

“Well,” he said finally, “I suppose we should get moving, if you feel well enough to travel. I can take you as far as the Outpost, about a day or two from here. Maybe someone there will recognize you.”

The woman looked at him. “The Outpost?”

“Yeah. Just a trading post mostly, but the closest thing to civilization for a ways. If we’re lucky you’ll remember something by then. Do you think you can travel?”

The woman drew the blanket around her, staring down into the campfire. She nodded slowly. “Yes. I can walk.”

Kendril chuckled. “I’ve no doubt you can. I was thinking you could ride Simon, though, at least for the first part. He’s stronger than he looks.”

She glanced over at the mule, who was scratching his flank against the tree trunk. “Your mule?” she asked.

Kendril nodded. “Why don’t you grab something to eat, and then we can head out when you’re ready.”

She brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “I’m not very hungry.”

He nodded. “All right. There’s some coffee here, if you want it. You can warm it up again on the fire. I’m going to see if I can find more water. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He turned to go.

“Why are you helping me like this?” the woman asked suddenly.

Kendril turned around. A smile crept across his face. “What was I supposed to do, leave you to the wolves?”

“Thank you,” she said.

Kendril nodded. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said.

 

The trail ahead didn’t get much better, but at least the rain looked like it had stopped for the day. The sun even managed to break out a few times, though only for brief moments.

At first Simon was not happy at the prospect of carrying a passenger, but Kendril had a talk with the beast in private. After explaining the situation and bribing the animal with a carrot from the saddlebag, Simon seemed a lot happier. Kendril even carried one of the saddlebags and the rifle, so as not to tax the creature. The air still had a distinct chill to it, so the woman kept the blanket, wrapping it tightly around her as she sat on the back of the mule.

They walked for about two hours in silence, Kendril leading and Simon trotting behind with the precious cargo on his back. Every few minutes or so Kendril would halt them, and check the trail behind them for a few moments. Simon didn’t seem to mind the frequent breaks. The woman said nothing, but Kendril could tell that she was still weak enough to need the breaks as well. She didn’t complain, though, and she was gradually getting more color back in her face.

Kendril was just returning from one of his brief scouting trips back down the trail when he saw the girl rubbing Simon behind his ear. The mule was grunting and snorting in pleasure. She glanced over at him with a smile.

“I think I’ve found your mule’s favorite spot to be scratched,” she said.

Kendril grabbed the saddlebag from where he had dropped it on the ground, slinging it over his shoulder. “Don’t spoil him.”

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