Trengin : Bridgeward Bound

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The Time Before

#517852 added June 28, 2007 at 8:11am
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Chapter 17: Bridgeward Bound

With the image of the bed foremost in my mind it didn't take long to convince myself to at least get closer to the village for a better look. My disguise had worked well enough earlier afterall.

Noting the rapidly sinking sun I wasted no time repeating the runes of illusion from earlier, although this time I didn't waste the effort altering my horse. If I did make it to the inn, the horse would go to the stables and a young stableboy suddenly seeing her change shape when I fell asleep would cause trouble.

A flung out palm cast the spell and my image wavered. To match the horse my clothes were in better condition, and my body not quite as frail seeming. It would do.

Backtracking through the woods I made it back onto the road and approached the village as any traveller would. From this angle I could see straight down the main street, all the way to the inn at the end with the market in front. The market was fading along with the light and already the number of people milling about had more than halved. I watched one middle-aged woman dressed in a dark shawl, arms brimming with baskets, travel quickly to a small house and slam the door closed as soon as she'd entered.

I entered the outskirts at a slow walk, so far no one seeming to even notice me. I cast my eyes back from the woman's house and my gaze caught on the large post I'd seen from a distance. My horse must have sensed my feelings because she stopped dead at the exact moment I saw what was hung from the top. Man, woman, or even child, I couldn't tell from the little that remained. Skin dangled limply from the corpse more often than clothes; the few rags that remained barely discernable from the dried blood coating it. Flies swarmed around it in a haze, and a couple of crows stood atop the post. It was the arms and legs that drew my attention; both ended in stumps far too neat and straight to be the work of any healer. A Sempa was responsible.

Whether it was part of the organised groups or a lone rogue taking pleasure in tormenting a village I didn't want to find out. It counted as something bad and I stuck to my earlier decision. I turned my horse round quickly and urged her quickly into a gallop away. If anyone noticed they wouldn't blame an old man's terror at the sight. But why did the villagers remain?

I let the questions fade along with the illusion as I clung to the swiftly moving horse. I couldn't let her continue this speed for long, but it was hard to rein her in when I wanted as much distance behind me as possible. Another patch of woodland a little way off the road made a darker patch against the almost black sky and I slowed down and moved towards it. I was little more than a few miles away, but it'd have to do. If my horse stumbled in the dark I'd be left on foot.

I made a hasty camp in the dark, not risking any light, and ate only a little flatbread before lying down in my bedroll. I closed my eyes, but not for sleep just yet. My hands traced the runes as my mind readied itself for the contact. I released the spell and felt the life around me. These trees were even more resistant than those that had helped defend the caravan, and I swallowed another regret not to be back home in my familiar forest and persevered.

Only a small group of trees, barely more than a few dozen, but as always I felt the awe and contentment at the connected lives. I felt a pang of sorrow, and realised one of their number was sick, a song that was low and quiet amongst the others. I drifted closer to the sorrow. I knew my hands would be gesturing rapidly as I held out an ethereal limb to the papery bark, and a soft glow seemed to spread from my touch. It travelled downwards, towards the roots I realised, where the disease was slowly eating them away. I felt the song from the others rise higher, louder, a defence for their injured brother against my unknown manipulation but I fought the confusion and focused my power. I felt the sickness, drew it into the glow and enveloped it. As the glow retreated the sickness was gone. The effect was immediate, the sorrow changing to one of surprise and joy, chorused by the others. I felt probing sounds, investigating my presence. Slowly I exerted my control, nothing as dramatic as before, just a request to watch and alert. If anyone came close they'd let me know. The song clung to me, calling to me to join them forever but I pulled away and entered my own body again, falling soundly asleep to the soothing echo of their voices.

~

The next few days passed swiftly, with barely anyone on the road, and none after the first day. This close to the bridge it was odd not to see supply wagons or some sign of what should be several hundred soldiers just a few score miles away. After breaking camp the day before I hadn't returned to the road, taking to travelling cross-country instead. I had left behind most of my pack's contents, along with the book, protected beneath the thick roots of a large featherfern. I'd left my horse there too, on a long lead that allowed her access to a small stream for water and plenty of grass to eat.

The book had proved valuable, although often cryptic. I'd managed to read parts before settling down to sleep over the last couple of days and discovered more detail about how the shield worked with a mage as a focus. It seemed the link was more formality than necessity, added in for whatever reason the creators had decided. The book didn't mention why, but it did explain that once a link was established the shield would be maintained as long as the mage was alive and within a mile of the centre node. Even if the mage moved outside that range, so long as he was back within a week the shield would continue as if he were always there, but would stop unless he returned or another mage linked in. As for limits, the book didn't categorically say, but it gave the impression that it was designed to be impervious to any and all know magic’s at the time. It still didn't add up though. How did it maintain and store so much power? Even maintaining a shield would drain a mage eventually, and all the more quickly when attacked. Any mana the bridge took from the linked mage would be a drop in the great lake to what was needed! Hopefully Captain Hunt, or the mage himself could answer some of those questions once I arrived; if the Sempa hadn't attacked yet.

All I took with me was a small amount of food, the map, and a sealed scroll I'd been asked to give to Captain Hunt. The morning after my first camp I'd marked the strange village on the map, if only to show others so they could avoid it, although maybe it could be investigated if Srune's Circle ever had enough members to spare. For now though it was out of my thoughts as I contemplated the best direction to approach the bridge.

The sound of a voice floated on the slight breeze and I quickly dropped down, concealing myself behind a rock and thick bush. After a few minutes listening it faded away; they must be ahead of me. I was tempted for a few moments to seek and find out who or what it was, but the memories of the dark held me back. Roah and Srune weren't around now, and it seemed foolish to risk it, no matter how many times it had worked fine until recently. I had to rely on stealth.

Cautiously I moved from my hiding place and headed west toward where the voices had come from. It was in the direction of the bridge, following the course of the swift river that appeared suddenly a few miles to the north. I'd discovered it by accident late the day before. Vicious rapids that left no thought for crossing, even if you could descend the sheer cliff face to the river below.

I'd only gone a few hundred paces when the voice became audible again, along with a second one in reply. They weren't in a hurry it seemed, or worried about others overhearing, even if they too were avoiding the road and travelling cross-country. The sound vanished again and I ghosted forwards, using any rock or bush for concealment as if I were hunting rabbits back home, although it wasn't as easy as woodland.

The land was the same gently sloping grass land, with the small hills and shallow valleys I'd travelled the last few days. The nearest patch of trees was enticingly close, some way to the left of me but where I crouched cover seemed disturbingly sparse. Yet I couldn't see them, so I tried to reassure myself they couldn't see me and continued moving.

As I topped a low rise I caught my first glimpse of them, two men, one with a small deer draped over his shoulders, strolling up the next hill ahead. They wore non-descript clothing, shirts and pants that would suit any farmer, merchant or woodsman who spent any amount of time outside. But neither carried any weapons which immediately set off alarms in my head. No hunter, however good, gets close enough to a deer to kill it with his bare hands; it was hard enough with a bow. One, at least, must be a mage. But Sempa? They seemed at ease, and to punctuate that a faint echo of a laugh floated down from them. Maybe it was the mage from the bridge, out for a day's break? From what I'd read of the shield it wouldn't harm the defences.

Regardless though, once they made it to the top, if one of them happened to look around they'd seem me easily. Dropping down from the top of the rise I dashed around the slope as fast as I dared. Once I came out from behind the hill I'd have nearly 300 paces to travel to the small patch of trees with no cover. Not for the first time I felt irritated the illusion spell from earlier couldn't make me invisible, and not from lack of trying either. I crouched at the edge and peaked round. They were maybe 50 paces from the top, and the one carrying the deer now had it held under one arm like he was struggling with it. Just my luck, they'd probably stop at the top now for a rest. Nothing for it.

I ran.

And fell flat on my face as my foot caught in a small hole. Frantically I got back up, and offered a small prayer of thanks that my ankle wasn't twisted as I continued running. My relief at making it to the treeline was palpable as I peered round half expecting to see them pointing toward me. They had indeed stopped, but neither looked in my direction, although one looked to be admiring the view behind, where I'd been following just moments before.

As I got my breath back I tried to decide what to do.

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