Mastiff (28 page)

He carried a longbow and quiver. The bow was unstrung now.

“Call off your hounds,” Tunstall said. “It’s no way to start a talk of business.”

“Is it business you’re after?” Ormer wanted to know. “Most ways outsiders in uniforms and armor come here to order us about. It’s not business we’re offered. It’s slavery.”

“We’ll pay you for your labors,” Tunstall replied stiffly. “At the orders of the Lord Provost, Gershom of Haryse.”

Ormer snorted. “A few pence for four days of
my
life? Be sure I’ll make an offering for your lord to
my
lord, Merscart of the Green.”

“Four days?” asked my lady, considerably startled.

“My life. Two days of your’n, if we don’t bog down,” Ormer replied.

Lady Sabine shook her head. “Do we look like coneys to you? Cooper’s map says the distance around this end of the marsh is forty miles back to the Rivers Road. It’s a map by the Crown’s own cartographers, and by their measure we should be at our destination by nightfall if we don’t linger here.”

Ormer’s full mouth twitched. He didn’t move as a large green lizard raced up his leg and chest, though I’d wager its claws were sharp. When the creature was braced on his shoulder, glaring at us with black bead eyes, Ormer said, “A Crown what’s-it, you say. Mapmaking cove, he is? And he walked the ground himself in his pretty court slippers?”

Master Farmer, the educated buck, cleared his throat. “Not always. Sorry, Cooper. Some of them copy another map, which may have been copied in its time.… ”

“When was it done?” Ormer asked, seemingly interested and concerned, now. “We’ve had that much flooding these last three year. If your map be old, mayhap it’s missing as much as thirty square mile of marsh, give or take.”

“There’s no shorter way to get back to the Rivers Road?” Tunstall asked. “Beldeal said the south end of the marsh is worse.”

Ormer nodded. “
We
could manage it,” he said, giving the lizard a pat and the dogs a nod. “But horses can’t go that way, nor mules nor ponies. These last fifty year, folk take the bridge.”

“What did you do before the bridge?” asked Lady Sabine.

Ormer looked at her. “We kept ourselves to ourselves.”

“My lady,” Tunstall said to correct him. “She is Lady Sabine of Macayhill.”

Ormer leaned to the side without a lizard and spat. “We’re not much for graces here in Marsh Hollow, Your Ladyship.”

Tunstall looked at all of us. He stopped at me. “There’s no other way?”

I crossed my arms. “Achoo was still on the scent when we got to the bridge. We won’t know if they went somewhere else till she smells the other side of it.”

Tunstall inspected Lady Sabine and Master Farmer once more. It was my lady who shrugged and said, “At least we need not worry about insect bites?”

“There’s plenty else to bite asides midges, mosquitoes, and the like, Your Ladyship,” Ormer said. “Don’t expect bows and curtsies from the bears and mountain lions. I’ll be paid if I’m to lose four days or—” He went silent when Tunstall held up a gold noble. It had to be more coin than Ormer had seen in all his days, mayhap more gold than all Marsh Hollow had seen.

“You’ll have it at our destination,” Tunstall said. “Not before. And if you think to lead us into a bog and rob us …” He pointed to Master Farmer, who gave Ormer that exceedingly silly grin of his. Solemnly Tunstall explained, “That is a mage.”

Ormer pointed to his bright green friend. “This is a marsh lizard. They grow up to six feet long. They’re common, and they swim.” He whistled to the pair of hounds, who finally moved away from me. “I’ll pack up.”

I will not write of the next miserable days. I can never forget all the biting and burrowing pests that stole food and chewed leather. All of us discovered there were four different words for mud, each meaning different things about how thick, wet, and grainy it might be. We made the acquaintance of grass and marsh snakes as well as turtles and frogs, and dined every night on eels and fish. All of the horses, even Drummer and Steady, became good friends as we hauled them out of bogs which were not there the last time Ormer had passed that way. We saw, and let live, a good dozen marsh deer, since no one felt lively enough to skin, dress, and cook one if we brought it down. All of us were caked in mud from top to toe.

Once we came closer to the western side of the marsh, we learned what the map could not tell us, the reason why it would take us a fourth day at least to reach the road. In spreading, the marsh had gone up to the foot of stony cliffs that rose three hundred feet into the air. I wanted to scream, but I did not. How could I, when no one else complained? Pounce did far worse. After an hour’s bumpy ride and a near slide from a reedy island into the water, he had vanished into the Divine Realms with a promise to join us at our destination.

The nights we were out were not wonderful. Finding a dry spot to fit all of us was an interesting chore. Once we were settled, I worked on the journal, bringing it up to date. That at least I managed. Then we would set the watches and bed down, to be up before dawn. We never asked Ormer to take a watch, but he and his dogs were always up several times a night anyway, wandering noiselessly through the water and reeds around our camp. Sometimes, while he was out, the member of our team on watch would hear a large creature splashing off into the distance, a big animal that we had not even known was so close.

Monday night we came to dry ground at the base of the cliffs. It was twilight. Master Farmer and Lady Sabine had lanterns lit to guide our steps. It was the promise of solid land under us that had kept us pressing on so late.

Once we’d set up camp and had supper, Ormer said, “You’re on the good side of it now. An hour’s ride from this place, all dry land, you’ll have your road. I’ve been along here recent, and we’ve had no rain, so you won’t be getting wet. I’d like my pay now, if it’s all the same. Like as not, I’ll be on my way before dawn. I can be home day after tomorrow if the god wills it.” He stroked the lizard, who basked beside the fire.

“Why is it so quick for you?” Master Farmer wanted to know. “Why did you take a longer way with us?”

Ormer smiled. “Because I’m not trailing all manner of horseflesh and packs and armor,” he said. “All I got’s myself, the hounds, and Summerleaf, here.” He tickled the lizard under the chin. “Anyone that’s burdened heavy goes island by island as you did if the bridge isn’t safe.”

Lady Sabine propped her chin on her hand. “And what kind of burdens do those island-by-island travelers carry, Ormer?” she asked gently. “Bad magic? Coin? Weapons? Slaves?”

Ormer shook his head. “Don’t nobody take slaves over the marsh save by the bridge, m’lady.” He’d gotten much more comfortable with Lady Sabine once he’d heard her swear when the horses got stuck. “Too many slaves go and drown themselves, they get the chance. The rest—well, I won’t be talking of you folk to them, and I won’t talk of them to you. In the marshes, ’Tis always better to mind your own nets.”

“What if we must come back over the marsh?” I asked. The others looked at me in horror, and I shrugged. “Just in case it’s needful,” I explained.

Ormer smiled. “When you reach this end of where the bridge used to be, you’ll find a great willow. Camp under it for a night and my cousins will find you. Say you want to visit Summerleaf, and they’ll guide you over.” The lizard flicked its tongue at us, as if it knew Ormer spoke of it.

Tunstall dug the gold noble from his pocket and handed it to our guide. “No doubt we’d have drowned, or mayhap lost much more time if not for you. Our thanks, Ormer,” he said. We all thanked him. If not for Ormer, a great many perils of the marsh might have sent us along to the Peaceful Realms with our work unfinished.

The Banas River and northeast

When we rose, Ormer was gone, just as he’d promised. I was itching to leave, but Tunstall insisted we all have as sound a breakfast as our supplies would allow. As the others were packing up, I took a quick moment to rinse my spare, mud-caked uniform in a nearby pool. I could let it dry on the back of a packhorse. By the Goddess’s grace, the Dogs at Arenaver had chosen the most patient animals I’d ever met to carry our goods. Every night I had tried to show my thanks by giving them all a good combing. Not one of them had kicked or snapped despite slips and bug bites. If we all survive this and even find the prince, I will ask His Majesty to give these horses a fine stable, good food, kind grooms, and easy work for all of their days.

Pounce had yet to return, which was disheartening. Three years back I’d had to do a Hunt without him. It wasn’t the same. Having him about, knowing what he was, made nearly anything seem endurable.
He
was still here, wasn’t he? All our small human messes were just that, compared to what Pounce had seen.

This was the first Hunt I’d ever had that made me feel as if it might shake even Pounce’s home in the Divine Realms. I wanted him here to tell me I was acting like a sheep.

I fixed the leading reins for Saucebox and my packhorse, Breeze, together with those for Master Farmer’s packhorses. When Farmer took over the reins and he and the other two mounted up, I called Achoo to me. I offered the scent lure to my hound.

“Time to go to work, girl,” I whispered to her. “You won’t have to wait much longer. Let’s go!”

Achoo smelled the cloth and sneezed, then circled, her nose low. She didn’t have the scent here, but I didn’t expect her to. We were two miles from the place where we would pick up the Rivers Road, if the map was right. I set off at a good trot, the lure tucked in my belt. Achoo ran at my side, trusting me to start the Hunt again. I was a good couple of hundred yards down the marsh road when I heard my companions nudge their horses forward. They would keep us in view without hampering us.

I was fifty feet or so from the blackened remains of this side of the bridge when Achoo took off. She circled in the roadbed there, sniffing eagerly, then went to the side, her nose an inch off the ground. I caught up to see what had taken her attention. It was a small lump of muck, dried and nasty in its look—vomit, I’d wager. Achoo’s tail wagged ferociously. She whuffled over the bit of mess as if it were a choice cut of beef. Her quarry had tossed this up.

“But we know he’s not here, girl,” I told her.
“Mencari!”

Achoo sneezed and raced east along the road. I placed one of my spare handkerchiefs over the puke in case Tunstall thought it was worth gathering, and ran after the hound. Mayhap Master Farmer could use it to trace the lad, though had that been true, he’d have done it by then.

Now that we were clear of that poxy marsh, the road began to rise again into tall hills guarded by high cliffs that were sheer faces of stone. The road had been cut through them like a channel. It gave me the shudders. There was no way to know if there were archers tucked in the green brush on those limestone heights, ready to shoot down any strangers in the uniform of the Dogs. Achoo didn’t so much as glance up. That is the marvel of her. She did not care at all that the scent she had was days old. To her it was as fresh as if it had been laid down this very morning. No rain had washed even a little of it away, no other riders had laid their scent on top of it. She was free to do the thing she loved best.

While she kept her mind on the scent, I watched the heights and did my best not to trip until I could hear the others closing the distance behind us. After that I relaxed. Master Farmer could handle any archers if they were there.

On we ran as the wind picked up in the ever-deeper cut through the hills. We were over the rise of the pass before Achoo swerved to the side, then back to the road. I checked the area where she had sniffed, but there was no sign other than trampled greenery. The prince must have pissed there, but it was dry by now.

I stopped for a moment to look out over the lands before us. I took a swig of water from my flask and rinsed my mouth before I spat it on the ground. Trees covered the slopes of the hills, but where the land leveled off lay a river. It was the Banas. Another chance of a burned bridge or even a ferry, and more delays. I picked up my run again, gaining on Achoo.

Our riders came up with us as we approached the river near noon. As Master Farmer held Saucebox so I could mount, Tunstall looked ahead. “I thought it was ferries at this crossing, not bridges,” he said. “The ferries look like no one’s done any harm to them.”

“Thank you, gods,” Lady Sabine commented. She and I sighed our relief together.

“Cooper, stay with Achoo,” Tunstall ordered. “My lady, if you will stay with Cooper? Master Farmer and I will question those who run this place to see if they can describe our quarry for us.”

I peeked at my lady to see if she disliked taking orders from a commoner, even if he was her man. To my pleasure, she nodded and lined up with me as if Tunstall had always been her commander.

“Achoo,
tumit,
” I called as we rode closer to the water. She snorted. “I mean it.” I pointed to her usual position at my side. “I know you have a scent, and I’ll turn you loose on the other side of the river. Don’t give me a blasted argument.”

“Do you think she really understands you?” Master Farmer asked as Tunstall rode forward to the ferryman’s house. A woman who’d stepped out of the building was blowing a horn to summon the ferry’s crew.

“She’s been with me long enough, she ought to,” I said, grubbing in the side pocket of my shoulder pack. Master Farmer grinned and followed Tunstall. I fished out two strips of dried meat and broke them into three pieces each. “Achoo, look here!” I tossed her each piece carefully. She ate them in one gulp, then whuffed. “Patience,” I said quietly, keeping an eye on things at the house. “Unless you tell us different, we must take a boat ride. Again.”

Three good-sized ferries were tied up on this side of the river. I dismounted. As if she knew my mind, Lady Sabine took Saucebox’s reins. Whistling to Achoo, I stuck my hands in my pockets and wandered down to look at the ferries, as innocent as I could be.