Ghostwalker (Book 1) (3 page)

She laughed. “I hardly think that’s possible. He really is a pleasant creature.” She turned her head, fixing Kendril with her bright blue eyes. “I just realized…I know the mule’s name, but not yours.”

He smiled. “Kendril. I don’t suppose you’ve remembered your name yet?”

Her smile faltered. “No.” She scratched the mule in silence for a moment. “You don’t believe me, do you? About not remembering anything?”

Kendril dropped the saddlebag again. His back was aching anyway. He looked away for a moment, back down the overgrown trail. “I think we all have things we’d like to forget.” He looked back at her, running a gloved hand through his brown hair. “But I’ve never heard of someone losing their memory before.”

The woman surprised Kendril with a smile. “I can’t tell you if I’ve heard of it or not.” Her face suddenly grew more serious. “I’m telling you the truth, Kendril. If I could remember anything, I’d—”

He raised a hand. “It’s all right,” he said. “There might be someone in town who can give us some better answers. At any rate it’s beyond me.” He glanced down the trail again.

“Why do you keep checking behind us?” The girl straightened, looking back down the trail herself. “What are you looking for?”

Kendril rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Nothing in particular. Just being careful.”

“Careful of what?”

“Just a thought, that’s all. It seems kind of odd to me that there was one man with you out in the woods all by himself. What exactly was he planning to do?”

She glanced quickly down at the muddy trail. “Well, I suppose—he might have…”

Kendril shook his head. “Then why was he watching the trail? He couldn’t have seen me or heard me if he was back at the campsite. He was waiting at the outcropping, and watching for someone or something.”

“You think there might be others?” asked the woman quietly.

“I don’t know. It’s possible. Either way, I think the more distance we put between us and that place, the better.” He reached down and grabbed the saddlebag. “How are you holding up?”

“A lot better, thanks.” She smiled. “I get a little dizzy from time to time, and my head is still pounding, but it’s starting to ease up a bit.”

Kendril slung the saddlebag over his shoulder once more. “So what exactly am I supposed to call you?” He smirked. “Until you get your memory back, at least. Calling you “lady in the green dress” will get pretty old.”

“It’s jade,” she said suddenly.

“Pardon?” Kendril gave her an odd look.

“It’s jade,” she repeated. “The color of the dress. Not green. Jade.” She reached up with a confused look, touching her bandage. “That’s odd. I just….” She gave him a strange look. “I don’t know why I know that. It just seems important for some reason.”

“All right, then.” Kendril stepped ahead onto the trail, grabbing Simon by the bridle. “Why don’t I call you Jade, then? When you remember your real name, you can let me know.”

She gave a shy smile, nodding her head. “Sounds good.”

“Then let’s go, Jade,” said Kendril, turning towards the trail. “We have a few more hours before nightfall to find a place to camp. By tomorrow we should be at the Outpost.”

The three figures started down the trail once more.

“She’s gone!” The man emerged from the bushes out onto the road, gasping for breath.

For a brief moment there was only stunned silence. The eight horsemen stared down at the man, their mounts anxiously pawing the muddy ground.

“What do you mean, ‘gone’?” said one of the riders in an icy tone. He was dressed in a long blue cloak, with a black hat on his head which sported a large red feather. His sleeves ended in frilly white lace. “Where’s Nedric?”

“He’s dead,” sputtered the messenger, still trying to catch his breath. “His body’s back by the camp.”

The man in the blue cloak turned violently in his saddle, startling his horse. “
Dead
?” he hissed at one of the other riders. “So where exactly is the
girl
, Montrose?”

The second rider didn’t respond at first, but pulled a wooden pipe from the pocket of his long brown greatcoat, casually filling it with tobacco. A wide-brimmed hat cast a dark shadow over his face, almost obscuring the long scar that ran down through his right eye, covered over by a black patch. His good eye, rising above the dark stubble on his face, was a sharp gray color. A large double-bowed crossbow, fitted to hold and fire two separate bolts, was hanging from the saddle next to him. Hanging from the other side of his saddle was an iron mace, the head of which had been molded to resemble a clenched fist. Without a word he calmly lit his pipe, and gave it a few preliminary puffs. The other horsemen looked at him expectantly.

“Well?” said the man in the blue cloak again. “What exactly do you want me to tell his Lordship?”

The man called Montrose pulled the pipe away from his mouth, and stared down at the trail. “You can tell him that we’ve run into an unexpected delay, but that he’ll have the girl by the time he specified.” He stuck the pipe back in his mouth, and then gave his horse a sharp kick, moving forward on the path.

“That’s it?” The first man’s face was beginning to turn various shades of red. “
That’s it
!?”

Montrose stared down at the path, then glanced at the forest to the left of the trail.

The first man swung his horse around, his fingers clenching the harness tightly. “You told me Nedric could handle himself. You said that we would have the girl
tonight
.” He spread his hands, gesturing around them mockingly. “Well? Here we are, your man’s dead, and the girl’s nowhere to be found.”

The other men remained silent, but several of their hands moved towards their weapons. They were dressed like their leader, in mud-spattered greatcoats and cloaks.

Montrose blew a wreath of smoke in the air, and tapped out some of the cinders from the pipe, which fluttered towards the ground before fading into nothingness. “Obviously I was wrong about Nedric,” he said quietly. “Still, we couldn’t keep the girl with us. They would have found her, and we’d all be hanged by now.” He stared quietly at the rocky outcropping in front of them.

“Well, the Guard have her now,” spat the first man bitterly.

Montrose shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He pointed with the end of his pipe to the trail behind him. “Those tracks there. One man, with a donkey or mule of some kind. He was shot at here,” he pointed to a nearby tree where the bark was shattered by a musket ball, “and ducked off the trail there.” He replaced the pipe in his mouth, and took another puff, the tobacco glowing dully.

“How do you know he wasn’t one of
them
?” persisted the first man.

A soft chuckle filled the chilly air. “One man? Leading a donkey? I hardly think that would be an effective rescue party. If he was one of the Guard you can bet a dozen others would have been with him, and they would have been riding chargers.” He blew a soft cloud of smoke into the air, where it hung for a moment, drifting lazily apart. “More than likely some local hunter or trapper came down the trail here. Nedric may have been seen, or maybe he panicked, or maybe he just thought he had an easy kill and decided to indulge in a little banditry.” He smiled bitterly. “In any case he must have been here, watching the trail, instead of in camp, watching the girl. A couple shots were exchanged, and he got the worst of it.”

“And so did
we
! Now the girl’s gone, along with this hunter or whoever he is.”

The sunlight was beginning to fade, causing the shadows to lengthen across the trail. Montrose turned his horse around to face the men behind him. “Yes, and where exactly are they going to go?” He cocked his head. “The Outpost? Let them try. These footprints are fresh. They can’t have left here more than twelve hours ago. They have one donkey, and we’re all mounted.”

“What if they turn around?”

Montrose grinned evilly. “Backtrack? Then they run into us. Besides, there’s nothing behind us for days in any direction. No, they’ll head for the Outpost all right. I’d bet my last copper on it.”

The man’s face curled into a sneer. “And what if they give you the slip? Move off the trail and into the woods?”

Montrose’s face darkened. His horse took a step closer, so that he was only two feet away from the man in the blue cloak.

The first man swallowed hard, his eyes showing the first sign of fear.

“Now you listen to me, because I’m only going to say this once,” said Montrose in a low voice. “Out here, you’re on
my
turf. And I don’t need any prissy aristocrat telling me how to do my job. Am I making myself clear?”

The man swallowed again. He licked his lips nervously. “Yes,” he finally managed.

Montrose smiled. “Good. Because if you insult me again, I’ll bash your head in, regardless of what your boss is paying me. Understand?”

The man’s face turned pale. He glanced anxiously behind him, only to see the hostile eyes of the other riders staring back at him. He turned back to Montrose, and briefly nodded his head.

“Good,” said Montrose. He leaned back in his saddle, and took another puff of his pipe. “Now, to answer your question, they won’t go off the trail, because unless this trapper is a complete idiot, he’ll know that two people wandering alone in the Howling Woods will be wolf-meat by dawn. And unless they’ve got carrier pigeons, they have no way of communicating with anyone. So as of right now, we’re the only ones who know where they are, and where they’re heading.” He snapped his fingers, which caused the man in the blue cloak to jump involuntarily. “Regvar, Derik!”

Two of the horsemen separated from the others, and rode up to his side.

“Get to the Outpost. There’ll be precious little moonlight tonight, so don’t gallop, or you’ll throw one of the horse’s legs. Go at a good trot. You should make it to the post before dawn. Lie low, watch who comes in and out. If you see the girl, you watch her, make sure she doesn’t leave, and wait for me, understand?”

The two riders nodded, both smiling cruelly at the young nobleman, who was still visibly shaken.

“Good. The rest of us will camp here tonight, and at first dawn tomorrow we’ll follow the tracks. If they do go off the trail, or bypass the Outpost, I’ll send Queltin for you. And no funny business,” he added, glowering at the two riders. “You get to the Outpost, and you hold tight. No women, and no drinking. If you do, by Eru, I’ll skin you both alive. Got it?”

The two nodded, then raced off into the gathering darkness. The sounds of their horses’ hooves faded into the night.

Montrose sighed. “We’ll make camp here tonight. Uther, Harold, take care of Nedric, will you? See that he gets a proper burial.”

The two other riders nodded, and then led their mounts off the trail, disappearing into the undergrowth.

Night was growing all around them. The man in the blue cloak cleared his throat nervously. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to offend you. Of course you are the best, that’s why you were hired for the job. I’m just a little jumpy, you understand? There weren’t supposed to be any hitches.”

Montrose blew a small smoke ring that drifted quietly through the air. “No plan is free of hitches,” he said. “We’ll have the girl by tomorrow night. No later.”

The other man straightened the lace around his sleeves. “What about this mysterious companion of hers?”

“Well,” said Montrose with a strange glint in his eye. “I think he probably knows a little too much by now, don’t you?”

The man nodded slowly. “I see,” he said, his voice still a bit unsteady.

The one-eyed bounty hunter smiled. “Don’t worry, my friend. I’ll make sure he doesn’t tell anyone.”

With a soft chuckle, he gave his horse a sharp kick and disappeared off the trail.

Chapter 3

With a start, Kendril woke up.

For a moment he could not remember where he was. Then it came back to him. The forest. Jade. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. In the trees around him he could hear the first birds, greeting the rising sun. He listened to them for several moments, and pushed back the last lingering traces of his dream.

When he opened his eyes again, he sat up, his back instantly protesting the movement. He quickly surveyed his surroundings. Simon was tied to a nearby tree, and was chomping on something in the undergrowth. Sunlight was glinting through the trees, painting the world around him in a red and orange glow.

Jade was sitting on a rock a few yards away, tending a small fire and watching Kendril intently.

He gave a heavy sigh, brushing some loose grass and dirt from his clothes.

“Good morning,” she said.

Kendril nodded, rubbing his eyes. “Good morning.”

She leaned back on the rock. “I made some coffee, and got a fire started. I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t want to wake you.”

He threw a disapproving glance at the fire.

“I tried to get dry branches,” she said quickly. “I don’t think anyone will see the smoke. The forest is so thick here, it’s hard to see through the trees anyway.”

Kendril was about to respond, but bit back his comment. The idea of a hot beverage right now made a fire seem worth the risk. He stretched his arms, then his neck. “Thanks. I see you haven’t forgotten
everything
.”

She gave a half smile. “No.”

Simon sniffed the morning air, then issued a plaintive whine.

Kendril gave the mule an irritated look. “No,” he said.

Simon whined again.

Jade gave the animal a confused glance. “What does he want?”

“Coffee.” Kendril moved closer to the fire, grabbing a tin cup and sitting down with his back to a tree. “He doesn’t actually like it. He just wants some because we’re having it.”

Jade raised an eyebrow. “Because we’re having it?”

Kendril poured some coffee into the cup. “He’s just jealous. He thinks he’s missing out.”

The girl laughed. The sound seemed somehow refreshing.

“What a peculiar creature.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Kendril took a sip of the coffee. “Did you sleep well last night?”