Guard, page 6
“Impossible. We don’t have the guards or horses to spare.”
“Need horses and guards or we will not get back before snow blocks the roads.”
Carl and Valda walked towards them. Joy followed them.
Once Dallas introduced the three to Mage Raffet, the mage turned to Carl. “Is your overseer still at the property?”
“Yes, he was helping round up the escaped slaves when we fled.” Carl looked at Dallas and raised his eyebrows.
“You can wait here until Mage Raffet organises a ride for the three of you up to my property. I will take your borrowed horses south with me.” Dallas walked to the door. “There is food on the counter you can eat. Then follow Mage Raffet’s orders until I return.”
Mage Raffet did not speak, so Dallas strode around the side to Swift. He wanted to take the borrowed mounts, but they were so exhausted, they would only slow him down.
He quickly prepared Swift, mounted and rode down the path to the bridge.
“Dallas! Wait?”
Dallas turned to see who called.
A guard trotted down the path towards him. His mount was weighed down with two bulging saddlebags. Dallas guessed he had enough supplies to last a week. He also noticed the full quiver slung across his back. The guard held the bow in his left hand and the reins in his right hand. “I volunteered to go with you.”
A shout of “’Ware a landing dragon!” from the guard on the bridge caused Dallas to glance up. He saw the bright silver glow through the treetops but the dragon was still out of view.
The guard moved around Swift and walked on to the bridge, to clear the area for a dragon to land. Dallas followed the guard to the top of the bridge hump, then turned to watch the landing dragon.
It was Brennet. He landed in a swirl of dust and leaves, even though there were still puddles of water from showers that morning. Mage Stantworth blocked the face of his passenger, until the mage dismounted.
Dallas recognised the round body and bald head of Councillor Anglewort.
So that was why Brennet was too busy to fly south to remove Crompton from Idion’s property. He was flying the councillor across Convane.
After Mage Stantworth helped the councillor dismount, he introduced Dallas.
“Dallas? Where have I heard that name before?” The wrinkles on the councillor’s forehead deepened as he puzzled over Dallas’ name.
“Dallas was one of the two tracker riders who crossed the wall.” Mage Stantworth smiled towards Dallas. “I thought you would be much further south by now.”
Dallas dismounted and walked off the bridge. “I bought three youngsters to safety, but I have to return south to rescue the captives. Mage Raffet can explain.” Dallas turned to walk back to Swift.
“Wait!” Councillor Anglewort ordered. “Take your tracker west into Mireland to help Stantworth remove a rogue mage.”
“I can not do that. I am needed south.” Dallas wondered why Stantworth and Brennet could not remove one mage by themselves or even get another mage from the city to help, but did not voice his thoughts.
Swift sent an image to Dallas to mount and ride south.
Dallas reached Swift and mounted while the councillor spoke quietly to Mage Stantworth. It was too quiet for Dallas to hear, but Brennet did not like what the councillor said, because the large dragon spread his wings, forcing the councillor and mage to jump away before they were knocked over.
Mage Stantworth grinned at Bren’s antics. “Councillor, Bren said he would not treat a tracker that way.”
Dallas guessed the councillor had ordered Bren to carry Swift in his claws. He was glad Bren said no to that suggestion.
Swift whinnied agreement.
Bren turned his large head towards Swift and Dallas, so Dallas bowed slightly as a silent thank you.
The overweight councillor shouted at Dallas. “You are a guard and will do as ordered.”
“I am only a temporary guard while I rescue stolen citizens of Convane. I suggest you let Mage Stantworth deal with any rogue mages.”
Councillor Anglewort took a step onto the road, then remembered how large Bren was, so stepped back. “I order you to ride west!”
Dallas shook his head. “If the mage in northern Mireland is abusing the laws, it is the councillors and mages who are responsible. One of your mages needs to arrest the rogue mage, not me. Then let one of your judicators decide the fate of the rogue mage.”
Brennet stood and spread his wings again.
Dallas took the moment the councillor was distracted to cross the bridge heading south.
The guard followed. “I am Dart Vincent. I saw you at the border before you rode into Mireland over a month ago.”
“Save your breath, Dart, we have a long way to go.” Dallas nudged Swift. She broke into a gallop, sending dust flying as her hoofs landed on the dirt road.
Dart’s horse took a moment longer before he also broke into a gallop.
It was mid afternoon before Dallas rode around the dead males who cast the net over the youngsters.
Swift continued south.
Dart took in all the details of the bodies as he followed Dallas and Swift but he did not question what happened.
When Swift pulled over to the left side of the road and stopped, Dallas dismounted.
Swift sent an image of Misty and Sweetie walking west towards a cluster of pine trees.
Dallas walked west until he found their prints. He remounted and let Swift follow the tracks towards the pines. “Keep your eyes open,” he warned Dart.
From the raised ground where the pines grew he had a clear view across the rolling land for miles, even though the road dipped out of sight two hundred yards away. He imagined Misty waited in the cover of the pines watching the wagon and riders head south.
“Smoke over there.” Dart pointed towards a wooded area over three miles southwest.
“Could be a dwelling.” Dallas doubted Misty would light a fire and draw attention to herself.
“Or a campfire.” Dart released the tension on his bow before he dropped the arrow into his quiver and slipped it back over his right shoulder, leaving both hands free to guide his mount back down the incline to the road.
“Swift, follow Sweetie’s tracks.” Dallas hoped it was the slaver camp, because Misty would be close by, waiting for her chance to remove one more slaver.
Chapter 8
A mile southwest of the clump of pine trees where Misty had hidden and watched the wagon roll south, the ground either side of the road changed from dry and arid, with large bare patches of dirt to springy, grass covered ground.
Wheel tracks of a heavily laden wagon veered left off the dirt road yards before a deep rut. The deep rut would topple a wagon unlucky enough to drive into it. Crushed grass stalks showed where the wagon rolled back onto the track two yards past the wheel ruts.
He was getting close to the low lying marshlands. Or the area had a lot of rain over the past month.
Swift turned onto a westward track that lead to a low sun bleached and rotting wood planked bridge, built over three wide rock pillars. He had reached the Ern river.
Both sets of hoofs sounded loud as they carefully walked close to the left edge of the wooden planks.
Dallas heaved a sigh of relief when Swift stepped off the wooden bridge back onto solid ground. He was now in Mireland.
Dart also heaved a sigh when his mount stepped back onto firm ground. “Hope we don’t return this way,” Dart commented. “I would rather ford the river up in the wastelands.”
Dallas silently agreed. The bridge would not last much longer. He guessed it would be destroyed in the next spring floods, if not before.
Sweetie’s track crossed the wagon tracks another three yards down the road, before the wagon left the road a mile later. He guessed they skirted the low incline that blocked his view west.
He guided Swift up the incline so he could study the lay of the land.
At the top of the incline he realised why Misty and Sweetie left the road. There was no cover either side of the road. Instead, he had a clear view for miles both west and south. The only place available to hide horses, or the wagon, was under wide spreading branches on thick oak trunks growing on every third or forth hillock.
Rolling hills hindered his view north, but in all directions the landscape was filled with green hillocks topped with one or more oak trees, spreading their branches over each hillock. The ground at the base of each hillock grew long green grass mixed with reeds. He was looking at the start of the marshes in the northern tip of Mireland.
He could not understand why the slavers would attempt to take a wagon load of captives through Mireland’s northern marshlands where the wagon could become bogged every few miles. It made more sense to keep moving south on Morecrag’s side of the Ern river. Easier going on the elevated ground, well out of reach of boggy marshlands.
“I guess we are now in Mireland,” Dart whispered.
“Keep alert.” Dallas scanned both sides of the road, looking for movement.
The rising humidity caused him to sweat, so he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand before the moisture dripped into his eyes.
The very slight breeze carried the odours of rotting grass and moist earth. Insects hummed in the distance. Yellow winged birds called out as they flew west.
A flock of sheep grazed three hillocks over on the north western side of the track. They were too far away to locate a shepherd’s campsite or building.
He checked the direction of the smoke he noticed earlier. It still rose above the trees about a mile south. The slight breeze pushed the smoke west before it dissipated.
He had at least one more hour of sunlight and another hour of twilight to check the camp site before darkness descended. He hoped by then he would be close enough to the camp to settle in and wait for full darkness to attempt a rescue.
Torn between following the road to reach the camp fire in the next ten or fifteen minutes, or following Sweetie’s tracks, Dallas stopped Swift. He frowned while he thought.
If Misty watched the camp he would locate both her and Sweetie soon enough if he followed Sweetie’s tracks. And she must have had a reason to turn away from the road.
If he located Misty, they had better odds of killing the slavers, than if just Dart and Dallas attacked.
Or ride direct to the camp, hoping the slavers did not see them approaching.
He made up his mind. “Follow Sweetie’s tracks,” he told Swift.
Swift trotted back down the incline to where Sweetie’s tracks left the road. She pricked her ears forward, dropped her head to smell Sweetie’s ichur residue, then raised her head and trotted south, keeping below the crest of the hill.
Dart kept glancing west, watching the rising smoke.
Dallas realised Sweetie’s tracks moved closer to the camp fire, but remained out of sight of the hillock where he hoped the slavers camped.
Swift led them behind another slight rise with two saplings next to one larger tree. The small hillock blocked their view of the campfire.
“Why go this way? We are not getting closer to the fire.” Dart kept rising in the saddle to see the smoke plume.
“Keep your head down.” Dallas warned Dart. “I am hoping to get closer without being seen.”
Dart settled back in his saddle, then slipped his bow off his shoulder and tightened the strings.
“Hope we won’t need arrows just yet.” Dallas kept searching for Misty and Sweetie in the shade under each oak tree, but could not see them.
Swift finally stopped at the base of a small hillock where three medium sized oaks spread their intertwining branches. Mud covered her legs but he did not have time to rub her down. And there was no point, not until they left the marshland on the ride home.
“Wait here.” Dallas dismounted and walked up the slope, holding his staff ready, prepared for an attack. Swift kept pace, even though she was tired from the continuous travelling.
Movement in the middle of the three oak trees warned him of at least one horse. “Sweetie?”
Sweetie walked out of the shade, ears pricked forward, watching Dallas.
Relief flooded his veins and he dropped to his knees. Who else would it be! Of course it was Sweetie.
“About time you arrived.” Misty stepped out from behind the largest trunk, but remained in the shade. “I left enough clues for you to follow.”
Dallas studied Misty’s face. Her smile reached her eyes, which led him to believe she was pleased he arrived. Her black clothes were dusty, but other than that she seemed healthy.
“Delayed rescuing some runaways.” Dallas turned and waved to Dart. “Only got one volunteer to cross the border with me.”
“Hurry into the shade before you are seen.” Misty walked back behind the tree trunk.
Dallas followed, leaving Swift to talk to Sweetie.
Once he entered the shade he realised why Misty selected that hillock.
She could look directly at the camp site. The wagon dropped at the front where one wheel was missing. He located the wheel next to the camp fire. One short male seemed to be removing or replacing spokes.
Across the camp fire two more males reclined in the shade.
Dallas dropped to the ground and crawled forward under the low hanging branches to study the layout of the camp.
Misty moved closer and whispered. “Two more males on watch, there,” she pointed directly west, “and next to the horses.”
The horses were tied to a rope line stretched between branches on the south side of the tree. After checking the rest of the area, not blocked by the overhanding branches, he studied the captives.
The females sat in a circle, protecting the children. He recognised Nellie, daughter of the old Jeb, hugging her daughter, Rammie.
Next to her slumped May, Jeb’s oldest son’s wife. He had met William’s wife the last time he visited the shepherd’s croft. Her daughter, Esmay, had her arm around her mother.
The third woman had to be Eloise, Bert’s wife, but he had never met her, so was not sure. She too hugged a small girl, but Dallas only knew she had a son, Kurt.
“Kurt is gathering kindling over there,” Misty pointed to the next hillock to the north west from where the camp fire blazed.
“Who is the child Eloise is hugging?”
Misty smiled. “Christie. She told me she was two years old last week.”
Dart finished staking his horse on the east side of the hillock, out of sight of the slavers. “Plenty of green pick for all the horses.” He crawled close to Dallas and studied the surroundings. “Only three males?”
“Dart, meet Misty. She will help us attack the slavers.”
Dallas waited for Dart to greet Misty before he answered Dart’s question. “No, five.” Dallas pointed out the two slavers on watch duty. “One boy, Kurt, is collecting wood for the fire over there.”
When Dart located Kurt on the next hillock collecting dropped twigs, he nodded. “Better to wait for the boy to return before we rescue them.”
“No. Better to wait until the wheel is reattached to the wagon. We need it to take the captives back north.” Misty’s eyes twinkled in the orange glow of the setting sun.
Dallas could not believe how relieved he was to finally catch up to Misty. And his heart swelled with pride at her ability to track the slavers without them knowing. Then he remembered, they did know. “Misty, one of the slavers works for Mage Crompton and knows you are following.”
Misty shook her head. “No, he doesn’t know I am following, but he is hoping I am following, because he turns to check the horizon for a glimpse of me every time his horse reaches elevated ground.” She smiled gently. “I recognised him when they first attacked, scattering the sheep. He killed Bert. If I was closer, he would have felt one of my stars slice his neck.” She sighed. “As it was, I got some of the others before they fled. Is William dead, too?”
“Olly died from an arrow in his back. Bert was only knocked unconscious. I didn’t wait to check the others, because I found two slaver’s dead, with slit throats. I realised you were very much alive and following the slavers.” Dallas rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. “Best you both get some rest until after sunset.”
“Food would be welcome, if you have any.” Misty smiled at Dart.
“Yes, mistress.” He sprang up and hurried off to fetch his saddlebags.
“Stop teasing him.” Dallas kept his eyes shut, but smiled at Misty.
She giggled. “I am lucky I was carrying our food in my saddlebags. When you didn’t catch up the first night, I decided to keep eating the stores, while following them. That way I would not lose their tracks. And I realised you could magically cause a bird to drop into my hands once you arrived.”
“Sensible decision.” Dallas opened his eyes. “Still falling off Sweetie?”
“No. She is intelligent, you know. I put the saddle on in the mornings while she turns her head to watch. Than I ask her to shake. That way, if the saddle girth is too loose, the saddle will slip and I know to tighten it some more before mounting. I only landed on my head once.” Misty shook her head. “Poor Sweetie. She looked so worried with the saddle against her belly and me upside down on the ground.” She giggled again.
It was music to his ears. “Yes, all trackers are intelligent.” He was disappointed she could not see Sweetie’s images in her mind, but she seemed to be communicating with Sweetie well enough without the added advantage of images.
“Still wearing your bangle?”
“Yes.” She held up her arm. “You spelled it?”
He nodded.
“I thought so.” Misty looked at the bangle on her arm. “When they first attacked, one arrow dropped at my feet. I was busy killing another male, so did not realise. But, right before I killed the one who tried to capture Sweetie, just before we crossed into Mireland, he stabbed at me with his knife. I don’t know what happened, but when the knife was six inches from my shoulder, he dropped it. I took advantage of his carelessness and killed him.” She shrugged. “It was after that I noticed one of the larger pearls looked duller than the others. Then I noticed one of the smaller ones was also duller.”
