The Burning Bridge Part 9

IF SHE HADN'T SPOKEN, THEY WOULD HAVE TAKEN HER FOR A boy. It was the soft voice that gave her away. She stood at the edge of the campsite, a slender figure with blond hair cut short-to a boy's length-dressed in a ragged tunic, breeches and soft leather boots, bound up to the knee. A stained and torn sheepskin vest seemed to be her only protection against the cold mountain nights, for she wore no cloak and carried no blankets. Just a small bandanna tied into a bundle, which, presumably, contained all her belongings.

"Where the devil did you spring from?" Gilan asked, turning to face her. He sheathed his saxe knife as he did so and allowed Carney to fall gratefully to his knees, exhausted.

The girl, who Will could now see was around his own age and, underneath a liberal coating of dirt, remarkably pretty, gestured vaguely.

"Oh..." She paused uncertainly, trying to gather her thoughts, and Will realized she was close to the point of exhaustion. "I've been hiding out in the hills for several weeks now," she said finally. Will had to admit she looked as if she had been.

"Do you have a name?" asked Gilan, not unkindly. He too could see the girl was worn-out.

She hesitated. She appeared uncertain as to whether to give them her name or not.

"Evanlyn Wheeler, from Greenfield Fief," she said. Greenfield was a small coastal fief in Araluen. "We were here visiting friends..." She stopped and looked away from Gilan. She seemed to be thinking for a second, before she amended the statement. "Rather, my mistress was visiting friends, when the Wargals attacked."

"Wargals!" Will said, the word jerked from him, and she turned a level pair of brilliant green eyes upon him. As he looked into them, he realized she was more than pretty. Much, much more. She was beautiful. The strawberry blond hair and green eyes were complemented by a small, straight nose and a full mouth that Will thought would look quite delightful if she were smiling. But right now, a smile was a long way from the girl's thoughts. She gave a sad little lift of her shoulders as she answered him.

"Where did you think all the people have gone?" she asked him. "Wargals have been attacking towns and villages throughout this part of Celtica for weeks now. The Celts couldn't stand against them. They were driven out of their homes. Most of them escaped to the Southwest Peninsula. But some were captured. I don't know what's happened to them."

Gilan and the two boys exchanged looks. Deep down, they'd all been expecting to hear something of the kind. Now it was out in the open.

"I thought I saw Morgarath's hand behind all this," Gilan said softly, and the girl nodded, tears forming in her eyes. One of them slid down her cheek, tracking its way through the grime there. She put a hand to her eyes, and her shoulders began to shake. Quickly, Gilan stepped forward and caught her just before she fell. He lowered her gently to the ground, leaning her against one of the rocks that the boys had positioned around the fireplace. His voice was gentle and compa.s.sionate now.

"It's all right," he said to her. "You're safe now. Just rest here and we'll get you something hot to eat and drink." He glanced quickly at Horace. "Get a fire going, please, Horace. Just a small one. We're fairly sheltered here and I think we can risk it. And Will," he added, raising his voice so that it carried clearly, "if that bandit makes another move to get away, would you mind shooting him through the leg?"

Carney, who had taken the opportunity created by Evanlyn's surprising appearance to begin crawling quietly away toward the surrounding rocks, now froze where he was. Gilan threw an angry glare at him, then revised his orders.

"On second thoughts, you do the fire, Will. Horace, tie those two up."

The two boys moved quickly to the tasks he had set them. Satisfied that everything was in hand, Gilan now removed his own cloak and wrapped it around the girl. She had covered her face with both hands and her shoulders were still shaking, although she made no noise. He put his arms around her and murmured gently, rea.s.suring her once more that she was safe.

Gradually, her silent, racking sobs diminished and her breathing became more regular. Will, engaged in heating a pot of water for a hot drink, looked at her in some surprise as he realized that she'd fallen asleep. Gilan motioned for silence and said quietly: "She's obviously been under a great strain. It's best to let her sleep. You might prepare one of those excellent stews that Halt taught you to make."

In his pack, Will carried a selection of dried ingredients that, when blended together in boiling water and simmered, resulted in delicious stews. They could be augmented by any fresh meat and vegetables that the travelers picked up along the way, but even without them, they made a far tastier meal than the cold rations the three had been eating that day.

He set a large bowl of water over the fire and soon had a delicious beef stew simmering and filling the cold evening air with its scent. At the same time, he produced their dwindling supply of coffee and set the enamel pot full of water in the hot embers to the side of the main fire. As the water bubbled and hissed to boiling, he lifted the lid of the pot with a forked stick and tossed in a handful of grounds. Soon the aromatic scent of fresh coffee mingled with the stew and their mouths began to water. Around the same time, the savory smells must have penetrated Evanlyn's consciousness. Her nose twitched delicately, then those startling green eyes flicked open. For a second or two, there was alarm in them as she tried to remember where she was. Then she caught sight of Gilan's rea.s.suring face and she relaxed a little.

"Something smells awfully good," she said and he grinned at her.

"Perhaps you could try a bowlful and then tell us what's been going on in these parts." He made a sign to Will to heap an enamel bowl full of the stew. It was Will's own bowl, as they didn't have any spare eating utensils. His stomach growled as he realized he'd have to wait until Evanlyn had finished eating before he could. Horace and Gilan, of course, simply helped themselves.

Evanlyn began wolfing down the savory stew with an enthusiasm that showed she hadn't eaten in days. Gilan and Horace also set to quite happily. A whining voice came from the far rock wall where Horace had tied the two bandits, sitting them back to back.

"Can we have something to eat, sir?" asked Carney. Gilan barely paused between mouthfuls and threw a disdainful glance at them.

"Of course not," he said, and went back to enjoying his dinner.

Evanlyn seemed to realize that, aside from the bandits, only Will wasn't eating. She glanced down at the plate and spoon she was holding, looked at the identical implements being used by Gilan and Horace, and seemed to realize what had happened.

"Oh," she said, looking apologetically at Will, "would you like to...?" She offered the enamel plate to him. Will was tempted to share it with her, but realized that she must be nearly starving. In spite of her offer, he could see that she was hoping he'd refuse. He decided that there was a difference between being hungry, which he was, and starving, which she was, and shook his head, smiling at her.

"You go ahead," he said. "I'll eat when you've finished."

He was a little disappointed when she didn't insist, but went back to wolfing down great spoonfuls of the stew, pausing occasionally for a deep draft of hot, freshly brewed coffee. As she ate, it seemed that a little color returned to her cheeks. She cleaned the plate and looked wistfully at the stewpot still hanging over the fire. Will took the hint and ladled out another healthy dollop of stew and she set to once again, hardly pausing to breathe. This time, when the plate was empty, she smiled shyly and handed it back to him.

"Thanks," she said simply, and he ducked his head awkwardly.

"'Sall right," he mumbled, filling the plate again for himself. "I suppose you were pretty hungry."

"I was," she agreed. "I don't think I've eaten properly in a week."

Gilan hitched himself into a more comfortable position by the small fire they kept burning. "Why not?" he asked. "I would have thought there was plenty of food left in the houses. You could have taken some of that."

She shook her head, her eyes showing the fear that had gripped her for the previous few weeks. "I didn't want to risk it," she said. "I didn't know if there'd be more of Morgarath's patrols around, so I didn't dare go into any of the towns. I found a few vegetables and the odd piece of cheese in some of the farmhouses, but precious little else."

"I think it's time you told us what you know about events here," Gilan told her, and she nodded agreement.

"Not that I know too much. As I said, I was here with my mistress, visiting...friends." Again, there was just the slightest hesitation in her words. Gilan frowned slightly, noticing it.

"Your mistress is a n.o.ble lady, I take it? A knight's wife, or perhaps a lord's wife?"

Evanlyn nodded. "She is daughter to...Lord and Lady Caramorn of Greenfield Fief," she said quickly. But again there was that fleeting hesitation. Gilan pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"I've heard the name," he said. "Can't say I know them."

"Anyway, she was here visiting a lady of King Swyddned's court-an old friend-when Morgarath's force attacked."

Gilan frowned once more. "How did they accomplish that?" he wanted to know. "The cliffs and the Fissure are impa.s.sable. You couldn't get an army down the cliffs, let alone across the Fissure."

The cliffs rose from the far side of the Fissure to form the boundary between Celtica and the Mountains of Rain and Night. They were sheer granite, several hundred meters in height. There were no pa.s.ses, no way up or down-certainly not for large numbers of troops.

"Halt says no place is ever really impa.s.sable," Will put in. "Particularly if you don't mind losing lives in the attempt."

"We ran into a small party of Celts escaping to the south," the girl said. "They told us how the Wargals managed it. They used ropes and scaling ladders and came down the cliffs by night, in small numbers. They found a few narrow ledges, then used the scaling ladders to cross the Fissure.

"They picked the most remote spot they could find, so they went undetected. During the day, those already across the Fissure hid among the rocks and valleys until they had the entire force a.s.sembled. They wouldn't have needed many. King Swyddned didn't keep a large standing army."

Gilan made a disapproving sound and caught Will's eye.

"He should have. The treaty obliged him to. But remember what we said about people growing complacent? Celts would rather dig in their ground than defend it." He gestured for the girl to continue.

"The Wargals overran the townships and mines-the mines in particular. For some reason, they wanted the miners alive. Anyone else, they killed-if they didn't get away in time."

Gilan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Pordellath and Gwyntaleth are both totally deserted," he said. "Any idea where the people have gone?"

"If they're alive, they've gone south," she told him. "The Wargals seem to be driving them that way."

"Makes sense, I suppose," Gilan commented. "Keeping them bottled up in the south would prevent word getting out to Araluen."

"That's what the captain of our escort said," Evanlyn agreed. "King Swyddned and most of his surviving army retreated to the southwest coast to form a defensive line. Any Celts who managed to get away from the Wargals have joined him there."

"And what about you?" Gilan wanted to know.

"We were trying to escape back to the border when we were cut off by a war party," she told them. "Our men held them off while my lady and I escaped. We were almost clear, but her horse stumbled and they caught her. I wanted to go back for her, but she screamed at me to get away. I couldn't...I wanted to help her but...I just..."

Tears began to cascade down her cheeks once more. She didn't seem to notice, making no attempt to wipe them away, just staring silently into the fire as the horror of it all came back to her. When she spoke once more, her voice was almost inaudible.

"I got clear and I turned back to watch. They were...they were...I could see them..." Her voice died away. Gilan reached forward and took her hand.

"Don't think about it," he said gently and she looked up at him, grat.i.tude in her eyes. "I take it that after...that...you got away into the hills?"

She nodded several times, her thoughts still vivid with the terrible scenes she had witnessed. Will and Horace sat in silence. Will glanced at his friend and a look of understanding pa.s.sed between them. Evanlyn had been lucky to escape.

"I've been hiding ever since," she said quietly. "My horse went lame about ten days back and I turned him loose. Since then, I've kept moving back toward the north by night and hiding by day." She indicated Bart and Carney, sitting trussed like two captive chickens on the far side of the clearing. "I saw those two a few times, and others like them. I didn't make myself known to them. I didn't think I could trust them."

Carney a.s.sumed a hurt look. Bart was still too dizzy from the crack Horace had given him with the flat of his sword to be taking any interest in the proceedings.

"Then I saw you three earlier today from across a valley and I recognized you as King's Rangers-well, two of you, anyway," she amended. "All I could think was 'Thank G.o.d.'"

Gilan looked up at her at that, a small frown of concentration creasing his forehead. She didn't notice the reaction as she went on.

"It took me most of the day to reach you. It wasn't far as the crow flies, but there was no way across the valley that separated us. I had to go the long way around. Then down and up again. I was terrified that you'd be gone by the time I got here. But luckily, you weren't," she added, unnecessarily.

Will was leaning forward, elbow on his knee and hand propped under his chin, trying to piece together all she'd told them.

"Why would Morgarath want miners?" he asked of n.o.body in particular. "He doesn't have mines, so it doesn't make sense."

"Maybe he's found some?" Horace suggested. "Maybe he's found gold up there in the Mountains of Rain and Night and he needs slaves to dig it out."

Gilan gnawed thoughtfully at a thumbnail as he considered what Horace had said. "That could be," he said at last. "He's going to need gold to pay off the Skandians. Maybe he's mining his own."

Evanlyn had sat up a little straighter at the mention of the sea wolves.

"Skandians?" she asked. "Are they in league with Morgarath now?"

Gilan nodded. "They've got something cooking," he told her. "The entire kingdom's on alert. We were bringing dispatches to King Swyddned from Duncan."

"You'll have to go southwest to find him," Evanlyn replied. Will noticed that she had started a little at the mention of King Duncan's name. "But I doubt he'll leave his defensive positions there."

Gilan was already shaking his head. "I think this is more important than taking dispatches to Swyddned. After all, the main thrust of them was to tell him that Morgarath was on the move. I guess he knows that by now."

He stood up, stretching and yawning. It was already full dark.

"I suggest we get a good night's sleep," he said, "and start back north in the morning. I'll take first watch, so you can keep my cloak, Evanlyn. I'll take Will's when he relieves me."

"Thank you," Evanlyn said simply, and all three of them knew she was talking about more than just the use of the cloak. Will and Horace moved to douse the fire as Gilan took his longbow and moved to a rock outcrop that gave him a good view of the track leading to and from their campsite.

As Will was helping Evanlyn arrange a sleeping spot, he heard Carney's whining voice once more.

"Sir, please, could you loosen these ropes a little for the night? They're awful tight, like."

And he heard Gilan's uncaring "Of course not" as he climbed up onto the rocks to take the first watch.

14.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, OF COURSE, THEY WERE FACED with the problem of what to do with Bart and Carney. The two bandits had spent a supremely uncomfortable night, tied back to back and so forced to sit upright on the stony ground. Several times during the night, Gilan had loosened their bonds for a few minutes to give their cramped muscles a brief respite. He even eventually relented and allowed them a small amount of the party's food and water. But it was still a very unpleasant experience for them, made even more so because they had no idea what he planned to do with them in the morning.

And, truth be told, neither did Gilan. He had no wish to take them along as prisoners. As it was, they had only four horses, counting the pack horse that had been carrying their camping supplies and would now have to carry Evanlyn as well. He felt that the news of Morgarath's puzzling foray into Celtica should be taken back to King Duncan as soon as possible, and dragging two prisoners along on foot would slow them down immeasurably. In addition, he was already considering the idea that he might push on ahead at top speed, allowing the other three to follow at their own pace. He knew the clumsy pack pony would never keep up with Blaze's mile-eating lope.

So, faced with these two problems, he frowned to himself as he ate breakfast, allowing himself the luxury of a second cup of coffee from their dwindling supply. After all, he thought, if he did go on ahead, it was the last coffee he'd see for some days. After a while he glanced up, caught Will's eye and beckoned him over.

"I'm thinking of pushing on ahead," he said quietly. Instantly he saw the look of alarm in Will's eyes.

"You mean alone?" Will asked, and Gilan nodded.

"This is vital news, Will, and I need to get it to King Duncan as soon as possible. Aside from anything else, it means that there'll be no reinforcements coming from Celtica. He needs to know that."

"But..." Will hesitated. He looked around the little campsite as if searching for some argument against Gilan's idea. The tall Ranger was a comforting presence. Like Halt, he always seemed to know the right thing to do. Now, the thought that he was planning to leave them created a sense of near-panic in Will's mind. Gilan recognized the self-doubt that was racking the boy. He stood and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's walk a little," he said, and they began to pace away from the campsite. Blaze and Tug glanced up curiously as they pa.s.sed, then, realizing they weren't required, went back to cropping the spa.r.s.e vegetation.

"I know you're worried about what happened with those four Wargals," Gilan said. Will stopped walking and looked up at him.

"Halt told you?" he said. There was a note of doubt in his voice. He wondered what Halt had said about his behavior. Gilan nodded gravely.

"Of course he told me. Will, you have nothing to be ashamed of, believe me."

"But, Gil, I panicked. I forgot all my training and I-"

Gilan held up a hand to stop the torrent of self-recrimination that he sensed was about to pour out.

"Halt says you stood your ground," he said firmly. Will shuffled his feet.

"Well...I suppose so. But..."

"You were scared but you didn't run. Will, that's not cowardice. That's courage. That's the highest form of courage. Weren't you scared when you killed the Kalkara?"

"Of course," Will said. "But that was different. It was forty meters away and attacking Sir Rodney."

"Whereas," Gilan finished for him, "the Wargal was ten meters away and coming straight at you. Big difference."

Will wasn't convinced. "It was Tug who saved me," he said. Gilan allowed himself a grin.

"Maybe he thought you were worth saving. He's a smart horse. And while Halt and I aren't nearly as smart as Tug, we think you've got what it takes too."