The Beacon: Thorne (1)
Episode 29: "Paths Forward"
About ten miles up the road from Blayne, Bandrick led the wagon train off the main road onto a narrower track that wound through forested uplands into the Bear Hills to the east. At the turnoff, Sergeant Stag and a few soldiers did their best to hide signs of their passing despite knowing that a skilled tracker would find their trail quickly enough. Looking back toward Blayne, the captain hoped the expected Leitani army would emerge from the hills that morning, figuring its arrival would delay any immediate pursuit. In any event, he expected Genubah’s burning desire for vengeance to result in a harassing war party in the next few days.
A few miles later, after rounding the shoulder of a stubby hill and finding a gurgling stream on the other side, Bandrick called a welcome halt under a quartet of spreading pines. Swinging off his mount, Lieutenant dor Finan ordered a watch set on the hilltop above them. Mast set about gathering sticks for a small fire, around which, before long, the rest of the party converged. Checking the four surviving soldiers who fought at the gate, Artema and Gamila cleaned and bandaged a few minor cuts, but they could do nothing for the men’s grief and self-recrimination over losing their captain.
“What happened back there?”Adon asked quietly into the silence.
The soldiers stared at the fire, saying nothing. Seeing their reticence, Gamila told the story without embellishment, rubbing her arms as if she were cold. She praised Captain Manton’s heroism and absolved the survivors of any reproach for his death. Finishing, the young Wise Woman revealed that Genubah had not escaped the fight without a wound, for on her last desperate pass, the eagle had scored the Leitan’s left shoulder with a deep gash. The news coaxed a smile onto the captain’s careworn face.
Throughout her narrative, Private Bonewood’s uncomprehending gaze was fixed on the young Wise Woman. “Are you saying you were the eagle? How?”
Her raven tresses swayed as she shook her head. “No, but I controlled her. If you remember the stories about Qadira, I am like her, a skin-changer.”
“She can inhabit the mind of bird or beast and make it do her bidding,” Adon added helpfully.
Bonewood nodded, but his amazement remained. “Thank you for taking out the archers over the gate. They would have picked us off one by one.”
Gamila blushed. “You’re welcome. It was my first fight. It was the only thing I could think to do.”
“Where is the eagle now?” Bonewood asked.
The Nuha pointed to the sky. “She’s circling above, watching.”
“You can control the eagle and still talk to us?” the soldier asked, his mouth hanging open. “You don’t have to be in a trance or something?”
Gamila chuckled, flashing straight white teeth. “It’s not that hard. I planted a very strong suggestion in her mind to watch for other humans and horses and to let me know if she sees any. I only have to pay her a little attention now and then to keep her at her post.”
Private Bonewood just shook his head. “Will wonders never cease?” he said to himself.
Into the silence, Ren said, looking around to take in the whole group, “And the line of archers across the square. What happened there?”
“That was Mat!” Mia said, barely containing her excitement. “He felt terrible he was flat on his back in the wagon. But on the way to the gate, he woke up and said the strangest thing: ‘Do you think I can aim the rest of the emanation’s evil toward an enemy?’ I said, “You mean, like an arrow?’ And he shrugged and said, ‘Yeah, or maybe like a wave.’ Then I shrugged and said, ‘It’s worth a try.’ I don’t know what he did, but when we turned into the gateway and saw the archers rise to shoot, he just grunted, and that weird, shimmery light flew out right at them! I don’t think it hurt them, but it shattered all their weapons!”
“How is Mat?” Adon asked over the exclamations her story caused.
“Exhausted,” Mia replied, deflating a little. “He fainted after he did that and hasn’t woken up since. But I reckon he’s purged all the evil. He’ll be just fine in a day or two.”
The captain nodded. “Let’s hope we’re all fine then, too.” He finished the water in his cup and handed it to Artema for a refill. He addressed the entire company. “We need to figure out how we should proceed. We know where we need to go: Essela, where that warrior-priest is, sending the emanations. The king was very clear: Our job is to stop the emanations by whatever means necessary. We need to move fast and finish quick. So, what’s our route?”
“Roads are quick,” Bandrick said dryly in his deep voice, “but in these hills, they will wind this way and that like a serpent. The plains can be quick, too. We can go straight, but they provide no cover. We can be seen for miles from a height. At some point, we’ll have to climb up into the Dragon’s Teeth, and if I recall, Essela is way up near the treeline.”
Ren cleared his throat. “Another thing: We don’t know if the Leitani are patrolling these hills or sending everyone to Blayne. We have to assume warriors will be watching the approaches to Essela.”
“And we know very well that Genubah hasn’t given up,” Adon sighed. “I’m sure he and a few dozen warriors will follow us up here at some point. He’s fixated on us.”
Mast grunted. “What would we do out on the open sea, cap’n?” he asked. “What would you order if you were beset by enemy vessels ahead, behind, and beside? I don’t see it’s much different out here. The sea hereabouts is just made of grass, that’s all.”
Adon laughed. “You old sea dog! You know what I’d do!”
“Of course, cap’n!” Mast said, grinning. “We did it enough for it to stick in my feeble brain.”
Lieutenant dor Finan raised a hand. “Some of us are not ‘sea dogs,’” he said in his lilting brogue. “Tell us plain: What would you do when surrounded by enemies?”
Recalling incidents from his earlier career made the captain smile. “The thing is, there is only so much you can do in such a situation. You must have a little luck—or make a little. And, for us, the best luck was darkness and, better yet, a new moon. If darkness was not in the cards, a following wind was always welcome. But my favorite tactic was to run dark through the gap between the two slowest pursuers.”
The young lieutenant, raising an eyebrow, held his eye. “Did it work?”
“I never lost a ship,” Adon said, his eyes twinkling and the corners of his mouth curling upward. “It was a close thing a time or two, but it worked.” He took a drink from his refilled cup.
After a long moment, the captain turned serious. “Look,” he said, sweeping his gaze around the group. “Any plan we make today will involve risks. There is no way this Baktron Nekhesh fellow is foolish enough to allow us to saunter unchecked up the road to Essela. And since we’re only nineteen souls against who knows how many thousands of Leitani rebels, speed must ride in our vanguard and stealth at our rear.”
“So, where is the gap we must run?” Linus dor Finan pressed.
“First,” Adon answered, “I propose that whichever way we ultimately choose to go, we travel at night. A spy thrives in darkness, and we are spies trying to destroy the enemy’s most effective weapon. Is anyone against traveling at night?”
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His eyes swept around the campfire, but no one objected. Sleep might be harder to come by during the day, but traveling at night would be cooler as the last days of summer played out.
“Good,” the captain said. He scratched the beard on his cheek momentarily as he tried to decide their course. Turning slightly, he pointed eastward. “The Bear Hills before us lie too close to the enemy’s chosen path between Essela and Blayne. The Leitani seem to have kept to the cover of the highlands rather than openly crossing the plain despite it being the shortest and fastest route to Blayne. I must assume they will continue to do so. Taking the plain to the north seems the best path.”
Sergeant Stag, his shoulder against one of the pine trees, spoke up, his voice gruff. “I don’t mean to question your decision, Captain, but may I recommend another way? What I think is better way? I hail from near here, from the far side of the White River, just across from Brodgar, Duke Thorne’s stronghold and seat. I know this area well. You probably know that if we’d stayed on the road north from Blayne, we would have wound up there. If I were a rebel Leitani, I would avoid the place. I wouldn’t want to attract the Duke’s attention. So, why don’t we head there and then strike for Essela?”
“How far is it?” Bandrick asked.
“Forty miles from Blayne,” the sergeant answered promptly. “About twenty from here, as birds fly. We could be there in five hours or so at wagon-pace.”
“How do you propose proceeding from there?” Adon asked, intrigued. He always sought local knowledge when it was available.
The sergeant straightened and walked toward the fire, where he found a patch of bare earth at Adon’s feet. He took out his dagger and drew a rough map in the dirt. “There’s a bridge over the White just below Brodgar. We cross and take the North Road for about another ten or twelve miles until the river veers off eastward. From there, we follow the river to its source, which is close to Essela. Another advantage is that the river is lined with trees most of its length—even a few small forests in spots. So, we’d have cover when we camped.”
“Is there a road along the White there?” Bandrick asked.
Stag nodded. “Sure,” he answered with an amused snort. “It’s not a king’s highway, but it does the job. The southern end is better than the northern. Frankly, the last fifty miles below the mountains is a rutted track, not a real road, but hardly anyone lives up there.”
Taking a deep breath, Adon blew it out slowly as he thought. The Thorne fortress assured their safety for another day or two, and crossing to the river’s western bank might put any pursuers off their trail long enough for them to reach the cover of the woodlands further north and east. That way appealed to him more than trying to sneak madly in the dark across the undulating plain below the Bear Hills.
Glances at Bandrick, Ren, and Mast and their quick nods told him they agreed with the sergeant. A similar look at Lieutenant dor Finan produced a shrug, a boyish smile, and a nod. As an outlander, he knew little about northern Margonne’s geography, but he was willing to cast his lot with them, whatever Adon decided.
The captain gently slapped his hat against his thigh, a few lines of worry retreating from his face. “All right, we’ll take Sergeant Stag’s suggestion. A nearby port in a storm trumps running blindly before the wind. We move in a half-hour.”
A note:
Along with a few other Angevan friends, Bodnar Thorne was one of King Margonne’s staunchest supporters and warriors during his conquest of Leitan. He was a stout, barrel-chested man, a thinker and planner, and skilled with an oversized battle ax. Even before the conquest, he had married Adya Woodfork, and they dreamed of owning a large swath of mountainous woodland to raise their children. In gratitude for Bodnar’s faithful aid, Margonne gave him and Adya the choice of his eight duchies, and they chose the northernmost, the land north of the Highwater River and east of the White River. Their seat was supposed to be Blayne, which they renamed Woodfork, a name that never stuck. Instead, they built a fortress and a new town to its north, Brodgar, named after his father. The Dukes of Thorne have lived and ruled from there ever since.
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Yay, Sergeant Stag! Always good to have a plan!