Lorik (The Lorik Trilogy) (18 page)

“Lorik, your bow!” Stone shouted.

Lorik let the axe go and retrieved his bow, which was on the floor of the wagon by his feet. When he looked up and spotted the last outlaw, he knew it was going to be a difficult shot. He nocked an arrow and took aim. Unlike the other rider, the last outlaw was riding across Lorik’s field of fire. He would have to lead the man with his shot in hopes that the arrow and rider would meet when the projectile reached the right distance. He fired his first arrow, but combination of nerves and poor aiming caused the arrow to miss its target. He quickly drew another arrow from his quiver, and tried to calm his nerves while he took aim. It was a difficult shot under any conditions, but with the combination of fear and adrenalin pumping through his veins, just holding the weapon steady was almost impossible. The shot was too low to harm the rider, but it caught the horse in its rear haunch. The horse stumbled and fell, and the rider was thrown forward to crash in a rolling heap.

“I got the horse,” Lorik said.

“I saw,” Stone replied. He had already climbed onto his own horse bareback and was now riding toward the fallen outlaw.

When Stone reached the man, it was obvious the outlaw was badly hurt. His left shoulder seemed to stand out grotesquely, and there was blood on his right leg, probably from a compound fracture. But Stone didn’t care about the man’s health, and he knew better than to think the outlaw’s injuries rendered him harmless. He looked down from his horse and smiled at the man’s misery. The outlaw lay in the grass groaning. He hugged his left arm close to his body and clenched his teeth tightly together.

“You’re one of Thuryk’s raiders aren’t you?”

“Go to hell,” the man said in a shaky voice.

“I can fix that shoulder,” Stone said. “It looks dislocated. And with your leg broken like that, there’s zero chance you’ll make it back to Pallsen unless I do. You tell me what I need to know and I’ll help you. Otherwise, you’re on your own.”

“Bastard,” spat the outlaw.

“Last chance,” Stone said.

The outlaw just stared at Stone, his eyes defiant. Stone was tempted to get down off his horse and show the raider just what he thought of the man’s defiance, but he knew that’s what the outlaw was hoping for. Stone cleared his throat and spat on the raider.

“Oh!” the man screamed. “I’ll kill you! I’ll cut your heart out, you bastard!”

Stone turned his horse and rode slowly away as the outlaw screamed in pain, hatred, and frustration.

Chapter 11

Lorik was shaking. Everything had happened so quickly that he hadn’t really had time to feel fear, but now that the fighting was over he had trouble bringing his emotions back under control. The man who had lost an arm was dead. He had bled to death relatively quickly, but the man Stone had hamstrung was still screaming in pain. None of the men on foot had been outlaws, just townspeople pressed into service by Thuryk’s raiders. They had families back in the village, and the outlaws used that as leverage to ensure the men fought hard, but in the end it hadn’t been enough. Only one had come through the fight unscathed, and he was busy helping Roran doctor the hamstrung man’s leg.

Lorik walked out to the horse he’d shot. The poor animal was trying to get back on its feet, but the arrow must have severed a nerve, and it didn’t seem to have control over its back legs. It neighed in pain, the sound so unsettling that made the hair on Lorik’s arms stand on end. He carried his battle axe, freshly christened with blood. The animal seemed to know what was about to happen. When Lorik approached, it laid its head on the ground and stopped trying to get up.

“I’m sorry,” Lorik said. He found putting the horse out of its misery more difficult than killing the other men.

He raised the axe and got the gristly work over with as quickly as possible. The axe stuck in the horse’s thick neck, but the beast died instantly. He was forced to put his boot on the back of the animal’s head to wrench his axe free.

“I’m sorry,” Stone said as he rode up on his own horse. He didn’t seem to be bothered by the carnage.

“It had to be done,” Lorik said in a grim monotone.

“Yes, it did,” Stone agreed, climbing down from his horse. “That’s why we can’t show any mercy tonight.”

“I know it.”

“I know you do, but it helps to say it. Those were some good shots. I couldn’t have even come closing to hitting two moving targets.”

“I got lucky both times,” Lorik said.

“Well, good,” Stone said. “Let’s hope your luck holds through the night.”

They walked back to the campsite. Lorik felt sick, but he knew he had done the right thing. He hated how even the right thing felt wrong when it included hurting people. He had been around bandits, outlaws, and pirates almost his entire life. He knew there were people who were hateful and cruel, who deserved to die, but he still didn’t like being the one to kill them. And having to put down the horse he’d shot was even worse. He had a soft spot for animals. He had no choice but to put the horse out of its misery, but he didn’t feel good about it.

At the camp, Roran and Griff were trying to help the man Stone had hamstrung. The other man who had been with the outlaws sat staring off into the distance, obviously in shock.

“Have we got anything stronger than mead?” Roran asked Lorik.

“No, I don’t bring spirits on my trips.”

“That’s too bad. Jorin is in a lot of pain.”

“You know him, then?” Lorik asked.

“Yes, he’s been working with Fryd,” Roran pointed to the other man, “in the livery stables. They both have wives and Fryd has children.”

Stone walked over to the man in shock.

“Your name is Fryd?” he asked.

The man didn’t respond until Stone nudged him roughly with the toe of his boot, digging it into the man’s ribs.

“What?” he asked, as if he was just realizing for the first time what was going on around him.

“Is your name Fryd?” Stone repeated the question.

“Yes, I’m Fryd.”

“Have you been back to Pallsen? Since you left with the outlaws, I mean.”

“We had to,” the man said, his hands shaking. “They have our families.”

“Yes,” Stone said, “we know that. But have you been back?”

“No,” Fryd said. “We were on our way back when we saw you.”

Stone looked at Lorik and shrugged his shoulders.

“Have we done all we can do for Jorin?” Lorik asked.

“Yes,” Roran said. “He needs a doctor and something for his pain, but the bleeding is almost stopped.”

“Good, I want to move north as soon as it’s dark. Stone, can we both ride on your horse?”

“As long as she doesn’t need to run it should be fine,” Stone said.

“Good. We’ll leave the team here, and Roran can drive it to Pallsen in the morning. I want to get closer to the town and maybe see what is happening before we make a plan.”

“Fine by me,” Stone said.

“What about me?” Griff said.

“You’re coming with us,” Lorik said.

“But I don’t want to walk all that way,” the young man grumbled.

“You aren’t going to,” Lorik said angrily. “But you will do everything we tell you. I won’t hesitate to bludgeon you with my axe if you get out of line. Now get on Stone’s horse and hope he doesn’t carve out your liver with one of his knives.”

Griff looked frightened, but he did what he was told. Stone mounted first and then helped the young man up behind him.

“Lorik, you sure you want to walk?” Stone asked.

“The wagon makes a lot of racket. I’d feel better if I didn’t have to worry about being discovered too soon.”

“Makes sense,” Stone said.

“We aren’t in a hurry. I’ll be fine,” Lorik added. Then he turned to Roran. “Let’s get your friend into the wagon.” They lifted the young man with the wounded leg up onto the wagon. Roran had bandaged the wound, and although there was blood showing through the strips of cloth, the bleeding seemed contained.

“I don’t think the blood will get through the wagon cover, but keep an eye on it,” Lorik said. “That’s rice in the bags, and blood could ruin it.”

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t,” Roran said. “That’s the least I can do for you boys.”

Night had fallen when Lorik, Stone, and Griff set out for Pallsen. In normal conditions it would have taken them an hour to arrive at the city, even with Lorik walking, but they took their time. They rode in the dark, Stone following Lorik so that they didn’t risk hurting the horse on some unseen obstacle in the dark. They could see the city, which was easily twice as big as Hassell Point, although most of the buildings were homes, shops, or part of the large, outdoor market that made Pallsen a center for trade in Ortis. There was only one inn, a modest two-story affair that was still the largest building in the town.

Stone and Griff dismounted and the three men sat down in the darkness, watching the city. There were lights in some of the homes, although most were already dark. The market was empty, but the inn was brightly lit. There were torches burning on either side of the inn’s ornate wooden door and light shining through the inn’s many windows.

“I take it Thuryk’s made the inn his headquarters?” Lorik said.

“That’s where he’s keeping all the families,” Griff said. “There’s only one way in or out. The women and children are in the rooms, while Thuryk feasts in the common room.”

“Where are they sleeping?” Stone asked.

“Thuryk takes a room, but most of his men just sleep on the floor of the common room.”

“How do you know so much?” Stone asked.

“I was there for a day before he sent us out to raid the local farms and travelers such as yourselves,” Griff said. “Things may have changed, I don’t know. I’m just telling you how it was before I left.”

“It’s probably the best information we’re likely to get,” Lorik said.

“Well, if he’s right, we could get closer,” Stone said. “I doubt Thuryk would post men anywhere except right outside the inn.”

“Griff,” Lorik said. “I don’t care what you’ve done in the past, but if you know how to sneak us into the town without being seen, it would be a big help.”

The younger man was hardly more than a boy. He had a few wispy hairs on his chin, but his face was round and youthful. He was very thin, his skin pale, and even though there was very little light it was obvious that he was afraid.

“I’ll show you around, but if there’s fighting I’m gone,” Griff said, his voice shaking slightly. “I don’t like fighting.”

“That’s fine,” Lorik said. “Just lead the way.”

They hurried across the open plain that surrounded the town. Lorik felt exposed, but no one saw them. Most of the townsfolk were either sequestered at the inn or out on raids with the outlaws. The only people left in their homes were the elderly. They approached a row of buildings that were dark and low.

“Where are we?” Lorik whispered.

“These are workshops,” Griff said. “The inn is on the far side of the market.”

“And where is that?” Stone asked.

“We just follow these buildings and then turn left on the main street.”

“We don’t want to go the obvious way,” Lorik said. “We need to get close enough to see the inn without being seen.”

“All right,” Griff said. “This way.”

He led them around a large barn and through an empty corral, which Lorik assumed was the town’s livery stable. They passed several stone cottages; a few were occupied but most were dark. Then they reached a building with an angled roof, and Griff pointed up.

“If we can get up onto the roof, we’ll have a perfect view of the inn,” he said.

“But how to we get up there?” Stone asked.

Lorik looked at the two younger men. Stone was in his mid-twenties and strong, but Lorik was much larger. He had brawny arms and a thick chest. It was obvious that they expected him to boost them up.

“Fine,” he said, lacing his fingers together and bending his knees. Griff stepped up first and Lorik heaved the young man onto the roof effortlessly.

“You make a good ladder,” Stone teased.

“Just make sure you see all there is to see,” he whispered.

Then Stone put his hand on Lorik’s shoulder and his right foot in the teamster’s hands. As he stepped up, Lorik heaved. The edge of the roof was only slightly out of reach from the ground, so when Lorik lifted Stone up, he easily got his free leg and upper body onto the roof. The angle of the wooden shingles made it difficult to keep his balance, but Griff grabbed onto the warrior’s arm and helped pull him up.

Once Stone got his feet under him, he was able to crawl up to the roof’s apex. They peeked over the edge and saw the roof sloping down and then the dark expanse of the town market. It was a square of grass, big enough for over fifty market stalls or tents. A street bordered the square with well maintained buildings on the far side of the street. Stone could smell fragrant herbs and assumed he was on top of an apothecary shop. Many herbalists used their attic space to hang and dry herbs.

The inn was easy to spot. It was by far the brightest building in the city. There was one man standing watch outside, and Stone could hear music and laughter from within. The windows weren’t clear enough to see through, but Stone could see movement within.