The Shadow Roads

Thirty-three

Dawn was not far off, Carl thought. He crouched behind atree, bow in hand, staring at a dark vein of road curling off into the woodbelow.

“Shoot the torchbearers last,” Pwyll said. “The driver ofthe cart I’ll shoot myself.”

Carl pulled back the arrow he had nocked, testing the bowPwyll had given him. His heart was pounding madly, not from fear, but becausethey had run like madmen to reach this place before the men carrying off thePrince and Samul Renne. The ever-resourceful Pwyll had bows and quivers ofarrows he had taken from some unlucky men-at-arms-perhaps the two they’d stumbledover in the oat field.

Carl could hear Jamm gasping nearby. The thief was frightened.He wasn’t much for a fight, especially one where they were outnumbered bytrained men-at-arms, but Carl knew he would do his best, all the same. Pwyll,however, could not have seemed more calm. There were only eight men after all.Just a fair fight by his estimation, Carl was sure.

The drumming of horses and the clatter of wheels soundeddully through the wood, then torches appeared, bobbing and waving. The smellof smoke was carried down the dell by a night breeze.

Carl did not know the bow he was holding and would be luckyto hit anyone at all. But horses were large, and if the men rode closetogether, he might find some luck. He hoped only to miss his companions in thecart, which was why Pwyll insisted the driver be left for him-he’d used hisbow.

Carl pulled the feathers back to his shoulder, feeling thebow flex.

“Not yet,” Pwyll whispered.

Around the torches shadow horsemen began to take shape, ridingout of the gloom. The cart appeared, then the driver. Carl strained to seeMichael and Samul in the back, but the light was too faint. He hoped they werelying down.

The riders drew nearer, growing in size it seemed.

“Now!” Pwyll whispered, and they let fly their arrows,pulling two more free. A horse rose up, and the riders drew their blades. Twomore arrows flew, and at least one man toppled from his saddle. A horse spunaround and crashed into another, an arrow in its face, Carl thought. A torchfell to the ground, then another was thrown, the riders realizing the light wastheir enemy. Several spurred their horses forward as the driverless cart shotahead. Carl got one more arrow off, then drew his sword. The cart horse tumbledto the ground below them, the cart turning over on top of it. Two more riderswent down, their horses tripping on the doubled rope Pwyll had tied across theroad.

Carl followed Pwyll down the slope, where the men-at-armswere trying to get up among panicked horses. Pwyll jumped into the midst ofthis, his sword swinging this way and that, men falling before him.

“Michael!” Carl called in the dark, afraid of slaying themen he meant to rescue. He cut at the head above a dark surcoat and felt thesickening thud of a sword striking flesh, then bone. Dodging a horse, he threwhimself on another man, though this one had found a sword. Two missed strokes,then the man went down, his leg cut from under him by Pwyll. And then all wassilent but for the pounding of horses speeding into the dark. Jamm ran off andcame back a moment later with a torch, examining each fallen man and taking hispurse.

“They’re not here,” Pwyll said from the ruin of the cart. Hedispatched the horse, which could not rise, with one quick, sure blow.

“Michael!” Carl called again.

“Here!” came the reply.

“Up among the trees, I think,” Jamm said, and held his torchaloft.

Samul and Michael came stumbling down the slope, their handsbound behind them. Jamm cut them free.

“Who’s hurt?” Pwyll asked.

“I’ve twisted my ankle,” Samul said, and Carl could see theRenne grimacing in the poor light.

“Can you walk?” asked Pwyll.

“Yes, but I don’t know how far.”

“Pwyll?” the Prince said, recognizing the knight. “Are youour mysterious protector?”

“So it seems,” the man-at-arms said. “You need weapons.”

Swords and daggers were quickly found, as well as a basketof food in the ruins of the cart. They set off, first along the road, thenthrough a field of high corn. Samul was hobbling, and Carl and Michael helpedhim where they could.

Pwyll drove them on, silently, over the starlit land. Ifanything he was more wary than Jamm, and seemed to know the land almost aswell. By sunrise Jamm had led them to one of his hiding places, beneath acurtain of willow branches in a dense copse of trees. A little stream rannearby, and if they had not been hunted, Carl could hardly have imagined a morepleasant spot. Jamm unwrapped the food that had been packed in the basket, andhe and Carl fell on it like carrion crows.

“Well at least we got a meal and bath out of it,” Samulsaid, eyeing his hungry companions.

Prince Michael did not seem quite so philosophical. “I hopeone day I have the chance to roast poor Franny’s husband over a hot forge.” Heglanced at Carl. “Your father was right about Henri-thrice-worthless scoundrel!”

“I will take no satisfaction in that,” Carl said. “If A’tanellewas our best hope, what are we to do?”

“The army,” the Prince said. “I will go directly to myfather’s army. Let’s see how the men-at-arms feel about Menwyn Wills usurpingmy father’s place.”

“Lord Menwyn will know by now that you are on this side ofthe river trying to undermine his control of the army,” said Pwyll, keeping hisvoice low. “He’ll send many, many more men to find you. It is only a matter oftime until we are caught.”

“Then we must make all haste,” the Prince said, his voiceshaking with rage over his betrayal. “Where is the army of Innes, now?”

“They were east of the Isle of Battle,” Carl said, “when weescaped a few days ago.”

“They have moved south,” Pwyll said, and when the otherslooked at him. “I questioned some men-at-arms not two nights past. One had agreat deal to say.”

Samul remembered the two men they’d found in the oats, rememberedtheir pale, still faces in the starlight.

“Armies don’t move swiftly,” Michael said. “We’ll catchthem.”

They fell silent for a while, each man alone with histhoughts. Samul took off his boot with difficulty and soaked his swollen footin the cool waters of the stream. His jaw was sore from gritting his teeth.

“How did you come to be on this side of the river, Pwyll?”the Prince asked.

The knight shifted where he sprawled, raising himself up onone elbow. “I wish I had an answer for you, your grace-”

“Call me Michael. We’re a company of beggars, here.”

Pwyll plucked up a long stem of grass and began to chew onthe soft end. “After nearly being drowned in the Stillwater, I was spewed outinto the river on a dark night. I’d lost my sword and boots and was batteredand bruised; it was all I could do to stay afloat. Fortune sent a log driftingmy way, and I managed to keep hold of it until I found the shore.

“I slipped up the bank and lay for a time in the trees,gathering my strength. When the sky began to brighten I realized I’d washedashore on the wrong side of the river and went looking for a boat, too tired tomanage the long swim. I thought I’d row across by night, but before I had gonea mile huntsmen happened upon me and seemed to think I was some kind of Rennespy. We had a dispute over that, as you might imagine, and I was forced to killthem with my dagger. Fortunately, they weren’t skilled with the swords theycarried. One of them gave me his boots and another his sword.”

“How many of them were there?”

“Oh, four or five,” Pwyll said. “Are you going to eat allthat food yourselves or will you give a bit to me?”

Carl and Jamm moved the basket so Pwyll could reach it, andhe went on with his story as he ate.

“There were no boats to be had, and I learned that thePrince of Innes had tried to invade the Isle of Battle and been defeated inthis endeavor by Kel Renne. I knew then that all the boats on this side of theriver would be gathered together and well guarded, which left me to swim theriver. Unfortunately, the huntsmen I killed were found, and the countryside wassuddenly swarming with men-at-arms, looking for me … or so I thought. Itturns out they were looking for some spies who’d crossed the river a few nightslater. I was forced to go inland, hiding by day and skulking about thecountryside by night. And then I saw the four of you-two of whom I knew-so Ifollowed you to see what you might be up to. You know the rest.”

They slept and stood watch by turns during the morning. Justafter the sun reached its zenith they began to hear men calling out in the distance.Samul could see that both Jamm and Pwyll sat up, turning their heads this wayand that listening to every small sound. If fortune smiled on them, these wouldbe field workers or herdsmen, but then they heard horses and, far off, a hornon the wind.

Pwyll was in a crouch now. He parted the curtain of willowbranches, watched for a moment, then moved a dozen feet and did the same. Jammlooked out the other way.

“Should we climb up?” Samul wondered, gesturing to the tree,but Carl shook his head and motioned for silence-perhaps being treed was notsuch a good idea.

Carl had one of Pwyll’s bows in hand though only a few arrowsremained. Samul slipped his sword from its scabbard, feeling his mouth go dry.There were only four of them, and even with Pwyll on their side they wouldn’tbe a match for even a small company of mounted men. Pwyll and Carl hadprevailed over their guards because of surprise-the guards didn’t know howmany men they faced in the darkness-and because of the ferocity of their attack.A dozen men would take the five of them down quickly-though not without losses.Samul squeezed the hilt of his sword. This is what he’d wanted-a clean death inbattle. An end to all his folly, where every decision he made seemed to goawry.

Horses could be heard.

“They’re coming up the stream,” Jamm whispered, and. plungedthrough the branches opposite. Samul followed, trying to go as quietly as hecould. They wormed into a dense underbrush, but too late. A shout went up, andhorses galloped toward them.

Samul heard arrows, and realized Pwyll and Carl were shooting.He leapt up from where he hid and saw the horsemen coming through the bush. Twowent down but the others were on them instantly. Samul dodged and parried ahard blow that nearly took the sword from his hand. His bad ankle collapsedunder him, and he went down awkwardly. A horseman aimed a stroke at him, buthis horse stumbled, falling forward and throwing the rider. Samul struggled tohis feet but the rider was up quickly, fending off Carl A’denne. The man foundhis balance and began to drive Carl back. Samul waded in, on the man’s swordside, swinging at his arm, feinting at his knee. Despite his immense strengththe man realized he was in trouble, up against two trained swordsmen. Heshouted for help, but Carl managed to slash his forearm so that he dropped hissword. The man raised his hands in surrender, but Carl drove the point of hissword into man’s exposed throat, yanking it free before the man fell.

Carl turned to Samul, his face grim and determined. “Thereare no prisoners in this war,” he said, and went to the aid of Jamm.

In a moment it was over, six men down, their horses millingabout but for two that had been hamstrung and lay thrashing. Prince Michaeldispatched both of these cleanly, turning to the others, his face contorted infear and rage, sweat glistening on his cheeks. Jamm was finishing off the menwho still lived, which Samul could not bear to see. This was not the kind ofwarfare he had been trained for.

“If the sounds of this little melee have been heard, everyman-at-arms within half a league will be upon us,” the Prince said grimly.

“Quiet,” Jamm ordered. “Listen.”

They all stood gasping for breath, Samul favoring hisinjured ankle. It had almost cost him his life a moment ago. Pwyll and Carlcaught the remaining horses and brought them under the cover of the willow.

“Samul?” Pwyll said. “Can you help?”

The Renne went to the aid of his friends, calming thehorses.

After a moment Jamm appeared. “I think fortune has smiled onus,” the little man said. “Though we’ll not be this lucky twice.”

“We’re traveling too slowly,” Pwyll said. “We need to putleagues between ourselves and this place. Sneaking about by night can only takeus a small distance each day.” He shook his head. “Not enough.”

“I agree, but what else can we do?” Samul asked.

“It is time for a bold stroke,” Pwyll said, tying two horsesto the tree. “Help me strip these corpses. We’ll hide them in the bushes. Washthe blood out of their surcoats, and ride out into the daylight. There arecompanies of riders going this way and that, we’ll hardly be noticed. At adistance we could be anyone. Up close … well, four of us can pass formen-at-arms. Jamm will do if he doesn’t speak.”

“It’s a crazy risk,” Jamm said urgently.

“So is staying near here this night,” Prince Michael said. “Iagree with Pwyll.”

“Someone will find these dead horses,” Jamm said. “What willyou do with those?”

“Use the other horses to drag them into the wood,” Carlsaid.

“Anyone who sees the flattened grass and bush will want toknow what caused it.” Pwyll considered a moment. “There might be nothing betterto do than leave them where they are and hope no one discovers them.”

After some debate, they cut down bushes and hid the horsesas best they could. The smell would give them away soon, anyway, as it was awarm day. They stripped the dead men and washed the blood out of their clothingas best they could. Jamm found a needle and thread in a saddlebag and turnedhis hand to mending the rents caused by blade and arrow.

Samul Renne felt good to be a man-at-arms again, even if hewas dressed in the purple and black of the House of Innes.

“There you are, Michael,” Carl said, gazing at hiscompanion. “A Prince of Innes again.”

“Just a renegade man-at-arms, I’m afraid,” the Prince said.

They let the horses drink, and rode out of the protection ofthe trees. Pwyll led them up a nearby hill, where they could survey thecountryside for some distance. Parties of riders and men on foot could be seensearching the hedgerows and woods.

“We’ll have to make a show of searching as we go,” Pwyllsaid. “But we must also make our way south with all haste. Once the dead horsesand men are found the search will be on for men-at-arms dressed in purple andblack. We need to be far away by morning.”

Pwyll and Jamm contrived to keep them distant from any othercompanies they saw that day, and when a company was in view Pwyll and theothers would make a show of searching along hedgerows and under thickets. Neardusk they stopped at a peasant’s cottage and bought food enough for dinner andto break their fast in the morning. As night fell they stopped to eat and letthe horses graze awhile. Soon after, they were riding, under a clear, starrysky. If they were seen crossing the open fields, they would appear to bemen-at-arms searching the countryside-and the local people didn’t interferewith men-at-arms.

In this way they approached the Isle of Battle by morning.Pwyll kept them going, tired as they were, over the dew-slick pastures. Cockscrowed as the dairymen drove their freshly milked herds out to pasture. In theeast, a few strands of cloud were awash in orange and crimson.

“A perfect morning,” Lord Carl said to Samul Renne.

“It is incongruously peaceful. But even so, you’re right.When you believe you’re seeing your last graying dawn, each one after seems amiracle.”

Carl nodded, and then said quietly. “I’m concerned thatPrince Michael is becoming desperate. That he might do something reckless.”

Samul let his eye stray to the Prince, who rode ahead withPwyll. A grim determination had come over him, Samul thought, as though hewould either succeed or die in the attempt. “Sometimes it is the act ofreckless bravado that wins men over,” the Renne said.

“And sometimes it gets you killed. I’ve seen it.”

“Yes, but this was a desperate endeavor from the beginning,Carl. The army Menwyn Wills now commands is too large, and too well equippedand trained. All the forces the Renne can muster cannot stand against it in thefield. And that is without Hafydd. If he returns-and I don’t know how you killa man who has made a bargain with Death-they will roll over the land betweenthe mountains like a winter storm. If Prince Michael can’t succeed in breakingoff part of that force, we will all soon be dead anyway. Dead or, if we run,dishonored.”