Rise of the Citadel (The Search for the Brights Book 2) (25 page)

  “I’m hunting
with or without you,” she said. “You can tie me up if you like and pack me away
to camp, but I will get out and I will come hunting.”

Her jaw was set
tight and she stood with a straight back in defiance. He looked at her and
thought she might have looked better in the men’s clothing. He shook the idea
from his head. It was replaced with the thought of tying her up, which wasn’t
any better.

  Bowie sighed,
“Fine, but stay behind me and stay close. If we find any game, I will let you
take the shot.”

She jumped a bit
and clapped her hands, then she cleared her throat and took her serious look
again. Bowie narrowed his eyes, realizing he had been defeated.

“If we run into
any enemy, you will stay behind me and do exactly as I say.”

Bowie waited for
a response. She nodded her head and he turned to advance the line. They had
already wasted enough time. He was sure he could hear her do a couple more
excited bounces behind his back.

  The next two
hours were filled with apologies, twigs snapping, a slip of ‘ouch’ caused by a
thornbush, and Bowie was sure he heard a squeal when a large winged insect flew
by. Each time, he would stop her and show her how to avoid the next twig
snapping or showing her which bushes have thorns. He was able to keep her
noises to a minimum, but he was sure the large winged insects would take some
getting use to.

With the squeals
cut down to a more manageable level, the lines started to make better progress
getting to Ria’s camp. Then came the grumblings of stomachs. Auburn’s growled first
and then Bowie’s echoed. He was sure if her’s hadn’t started, his wouldn’t
have. Bowie waved his arms to each side, signaling the men to take a break and
fill their stomachs. Each man in the line crouched where he stood and started
eating. Bowie’s particular meal was berries and a piece of bread with cheese.
Auburn’s was much of the same only with more berries, which she didn’t share.

  The forest was
quiet except for the occasional bird or animal noises which were blocked out by
the wind moving through the leaves far above head. He was sure the scene would
have been romantic except for being on a hunt for the Fire Realm. Bowie would
have been happy to be alone in the forest, but Auburn’s company was pleasant
enough when she wasn’t near Ria. He watched as she checked to make sure her
Braid was holding and that she hadn’t dirtied her clothes. He thought it could
be worse. He could be spending the day with one of his men who he was sure
hadn’t bathed in days. Bowie sniffed at his shirt and found it less than
adequate. He needed to wash. Bowie knew it was probably bad being downwind of
him all day but he couldn’t help needing to be in front of the woman.

  He watched her
fill her stomach and try to hide her chewing behind the brim of the large black
hat. Bowie thought Auburn looked better in it than he did. He straightened his
own hat and gathered the remnants of his meal. Standing, he looked to the east
and west and checked to see if his men were ready to start moving. They both
stood and looked to the north, checking for any movement. When they found none,
they continued on their trek north.

  Once Auburn’s
stomach was quelled, she moved as silently as the other men and they started to
pick up the pace. Bowie knew they would be out in the forest after dark. He
hoped that Ria’s camp remained steadfast and didn’t send out a search for them.
That would likely end in his own men shooting each other.

  The sun had
already started to set and his men had tried to move quickly to make up for
lost time. The line of men approached a small stream that had cut into the
earth over the years. The result was a deadly barrier gorged into the ground
his men would have to pass. He could hear the stream but couldn’t see it
because it dipped almost straight down into the land. Bowie kept low to the
ground, stalking at half his normal height while his men kept a watchful eye in
front of him from an angle. When Bowie reached the edge of the stream’s small
valley, he tried to figure out the best way to descend to the water. When he looked
back to wave Auburn forward, he saw his men waving to him from behind a tree.
He knew what it meant and waved Auburn to stay where she was.

  Bowie took off
his hat and slowly stood to his full height but was unable to find the reason
for their caution. The shadows now cast on the ground from the setting sun made
it hard to see anything in great detail, but in one of the shadows he could see
movement. He looked to the side and used hand signals to tell them he was
moving into range of the movement. His men were to stay still and warn him of
any increasing danger.

Carefully, Bowie
made his way down the muddy slope into the bank of the stream below. One small
leap across to the other side of the stream met him with a moss and root
overhang which he took comfort in being able to hide beneath. Bowie did his
best to keep quiet while walking along the soggy mud bank. He was looking for a
good place to climb up without being seen.

  A tangle of
roots stretching down to the water’s edge proved to be strong enough to climb.
He put his bow over his shoulder and an arrow in his teeth. His legs straddled
the root, using it as a rope and he pulled himself towards the ledge above his
head. About half way up he heard a squelch and a splash. Looking behind him, he
saw Auburn laying in the water scrambling to get back to her feet. Bowie
dropped from the root and helped her up and pulled her with him underneath the
overhang. He knew they would have to stay put and let his men fight in order
for the two of them to stay alive. The element of surprise and advantage of
higher ground was now gone.

“Sorry,” was all
Auburn could say.

A bird call
alerted him to danger coming. They had found the enemy.

  “They’re
coming, get your bow ready. You kill anything that drops down that way and I
will do the same this way,” Bowie said readying his own.

Bowie pulled an
arrow as far back as he could and locked his shoulder into a comfortable
position. Auburn did the same as John and Tyler had taught her. Bowie heard a
loud war cry from overhead as a large and bearded man splashed down in front of
him. He let his arrow fly but only struck a shield. The man closed the gap and
began swinging his axe. Bowie found himself pressed up against the dirt wall
with nowhere to go. Glancing to his right, he found Auburn pulling an arrow
from her quiver and stepping over another Fire Realm soldier who laid face down
in the water.

  The man swung
again at Bowie as he danced amongst the roots. The man was struck in the back
of his shoulder by Auburn’s arrow. A swing of his axe fell short and grazed
Bowie’s hip as he took the opportunity to escape the wall of dirt he was
pressed against. Bowie ran towards Auburn, who let another arrow fly. This
arrow struck the man’s muscular neck and went clean through, protruding out the
other side.

The pain in
Bowie’s side cause him to stumble along the shore line with his bow in one hand
bracing himself with the other as arrows passed overhead both directions.
Traveling upstream from where they had first started, Auburn and Bowie helped
each other and watched the ridge that formed the sides of the stream’s gutter.
Bowie watched a few blades of grass push to one side and he knocked an arrow
before a man with leather skin parted the grass with a curved blade. Bowie
quickly dispatched the man through his eye.

  A bird call
could be heard from somewhere on the troop’s side of the gutter, giving the
all-clear.

“Hold the line!”
Bowie shouted out and he was sure that hand signals were being passed from
soldier to soldier.

Soon enough, one
of his men poked his head over the wall of dirt and saw Bowie sitting along the
bank and Auburn still searching the ridge for movement. Bowie held the wound on
his side that saturated his clothes with blood.

  “We are
already across the stream in most of the line. They caught two more trying to
escape.” The soldier, he remembered as Mark, looked down and saw Bowie’s
bleeding hip. “Fetch Bobby!” he called out to the nearest troop member.

Auburn was eased
by the sight of another archer on the ridge and pulled a piece of cloth from
her pack. After getting some water from the stream, she pressed it against
Bowie’s wound to clean the dirt from it. Bowie winced in pain but grit his teeth
to look tough in front of Auburn.

  “Oh come now.
I’m sure a small cut like this couldn’t hurt that bad,” Auburn said, pulling
out a second cloth to bandage.

A laugh from
above let him know that by the end of tomorrow, everyone in his troop would
know how he had winced. He would never live down the moment. Soon enough, a
hard-breathing and plump soldier; Bobby, came sliding down into the ditch. He
pulled a needle and thread from his pouch and was having a hard time threading
the needle.

  Bowie was
watching his hands closely, “Perhaps we should get a more steady hand to sew me
up.”

  The soldier
from above chortled back, “Nonsense, Master Crescent. Bobby here has a knack
for surgery. Just not good with running long distances. Give him a minute and
he’ll straighten right up.”

Bobby nodded his
head in agreement, still trying to catch his breath. He went to wash his hands
in the stream and wiped the sweat from his brow on his sleeve. Auburn took to
cutting a thick piece of root and washed the dirt from its length. Just before
Bowie wondered what the root was for, she shoved it in his mouth.

  “Bite this, I
think it will help,” She said as she slid in behind Bowie on the bank.

It didn’t help,
and neither did her cold, soaked clothes. He did his best to hold still as
Bobby poked the needle through his flesh. Bowie tried to think of anything else
and found himself taking some pleasure in feeling the warmth from Auburn’s body
seeping through their wet clothes. The needle went back and forth and then
Bobby gave a tug, pulling the two pieces of bleeding flesh closer with every
pass. Soon, the wound was closed and Bobby was cleaning his hands of Bowie’s
blood.

Bowie began to
relax and felt the tears that had run off his face. He quickly wiped them away
as he pulled the root out of his teeth where it had sunk in. He realized that
Auburn was still clutching his chest pulling him into her and gave her hand a
pat. She released him and cleared her throat, the air once again cooled his wet
clothes where she had been pressed.

  “We will need
to keep an eye on that,” Bobby said as he placed a cloth over the wound.

  “Thanks,
Bobby.” Bowie said as he pulled his bloody shirt down over his hip. The skin
pulled tight as they helped him to his feet and he took a couple steps before
he let go of the soldier. Bowie then realized he still had to climb his way out
of the gutter and cursed under his breath. He went back to the root he had
originally thought to climb and led the way to the top. He noticed Auburn
biting her lip as he climbed.

When he arrived,
he saw what the others had seen; at least ten bodies of slain enemies laid in
an small open area near the far side of the stream. Bowie was glad he hadn’t
poked his head over the top. Auburn might have accidently saved him twice in a
matter of minutes, but he wasn’t going to let her know.

When his
soldiers saw him, one came over and saluted. “My lord their weapons and armor
are gone.”

  “Gone?” Bowie
asked.

  “We ran down
every man we could. Two more were killed to the northeast, one more to the
northwest. When we returned here, all their armor and weapons were gone. Even
the two that jumped to attack you had been stripped of weapons.”

  “Then there
must be at least a couple we missed. Gather the men off the line. I want to
travel together the rest of the way to the camp. The enemy could be behind us
now,” Bowie turned to help give the signal but winced in pain from moving too
quickly

His men started
looking around as if expecting an attack at any moment. Bowie gave the signal
to gather in. Bobby was called to look at two other men; one with a twisted
ankle from the descent into the stream and another, Palvey, who had taken an
enemy arrow in the chest. The second man was dead.

Palvey’s body
was carried back on a makeshift litter. Bowie did his best to help carry the
boy’s body, but was once again stripped of his effort. During the slow walk
back to camp he learned more about the slain boy. He made a mental note to
cross him off his list of names of his troops. Bowie had just managed to write
down the names of his squad to help him remember them, now he would have to
cross one off and that hurt more than the pain in his hip.

  The darkness
of night could not explain the pitch black that they saw during their trek
home. The lack of a moon and trees to block any star light made it difficult to
see the roots and dangers underneath each step. Each man took a battering on
his legs until they could find their way back. Bowie coached Auburn on where
the dangers were as he crossed them. He only knew she was still there by the
sound of her voice answering him.

  Torches lit
the horizon as they called out to his men in the camp only a couple hundred
paces away. Bowie reached inside his shirt and felt the warm trickle of blood
leaking out of him. His stitches had broken open. A crowd of soldiers poured
out of the camp praising their arrival. Bowie’s squad was relieved of Palvey’s
body, John called for men to fetch shovels for his burial. Most of the men
seemed happy to see so many return, Bowie was glad so many still remained
unharmed. Yet that gladness was tinged with melancholy over Palvey’s death.

He trudged past
Ria who offered to energize him. He wanted no part in what seemed like a gift
for his failure to protect a man in his command. He wanted to tell Ria that he
was finished and that he couldn’t even protect a girl. The words John spoke to
him rang loud in his head,
The men will not follow me.