Mira (16 page)

           
The first few nights went the same as every other assignment, sleeping through the day and moving with the night. Two days from the city, as the first light of day began to color the sky Rillan came to what used to be his stopping point.
 
The charred stones of the round house foundation were long cold and the surrounding forest was silent.
 
Rillan guessed that the burning took place days before if not longer.

           
Walking around the pile of ash and stone, Rillan found no sign of who burned it or why.
 
It may be possible that someone in power in Noviodunum knows I’m coming. If the caretaker had gotten away from this then we would have known that the place was burned.
 
So either he’s dead or captive.
 
Rillan looked to the lightening sky.
 
I wonder how much he told them and if the safe houses closer to the city are destroyed as well.

           
Accepting the possibility that there may be no more shelter between himself and Noviodunum, Rillan pulled the heavy wool hood on his cloak up and around his shoulders, careful to obscure as much skin as possible from the oncoming light.
 
It wouldn’t kill him, but it would be painful and completely drain him before he even reached his target.

           
Rillan kept to the shadows as much as possible.
 
Travel was slow going.
 
He didn’t want to get into town with obvious burns on his face or hands.
 
Most people wouldn’t know what he was.
 
Still they may think he carried some disease.
 
That would make getting a room at the inn nearly impossible.

           
The sound of horse hooves pounding through the dirt prompted Rillan to take to the trees.
 
Hiding in the branches of a tall oak, he watched several uniformed men on horseback charge through the woods.
 
He couldn’t help his suspicion, considering he wasn’t traveling on a trail of any kind.
 
When the horses disappeared into the trees, Rillan climbed down again.
 

           
Risking exposure to the sun he chose to speed his travel.
 
Something isn’t right
, he thought.
 
He contemplated the circumstances of the assassinations he had performed over the past few years.
 
They were all political, by his understanding.
 
That could mean attempted retribution for any of the factions that may have been affected by the death of a leader.
 
I suppose there has to be someone in Noviodunum intelligent enough to draw a connection between the assassinations and the druid nations. As intelligent as the elders are, I can’t imagine that no one has noticed over the hundreds of years I’ve been doing this that the people who die are the ones who lobby for northern assimilation and movement.

           
Near nightfall, he came to the remains of the next round house in his path.
 
As he knelt to examine some ashen footprints in the underbrush, shuffling from nearby bushes caught his attention.
 
Darkness was descending on the decimated clearing.
 
Knowing he was already seen, Rillan stood and pushed the hood of his cloak back.
 
His eyes bled to black and sunk into his skull.
 
His senses sharpened and the sound of a rapidly beating heart called to him.
 
Turning toward the sound, Rillan cocked his head and peered menacing
ly
directly at the source of the sound.
 
Shallow breathing quickened in the darkness.

           
“I can smell your fear,” Rillan hissed at the hidden prey.

           
Suddenly a flurry of movement burst from the bushes, and a human form scrambled into the trees, running for his life.
 
With the callous nature of any hunter pursuing his prey, Rillan followed with practiced ease.
 
In a matter of moments, he was behind the figure.
 
Savage clawed hands grabbed a flailing body and slammed it into a nearby tree.
 
A head hit the tree with a sickening thud.
 

           
“Give me a reason not to drain your life and leave you as carrion for the wolves,” Rillan sneered, in a deadly undertone, through a mouthful of daggers. The demon didn’t register that the form he menaced was only barely a young man.
 

           
The boy whimpered an inaudible response, as the vampire drew closer.
 
Wide eyed with terror, staring into black, lifeless sockets where eyes should have been, the only thing the boy could manage to say was, “please.”

           
The distinct foul odor of urine assailed Rillan’s senses and caused a pause.
 
Somewhere, far off in the black of the forest a desperate voice called out, “Briac!
 
Briac!
 
Where are you boy?”

           
Reality swept in, and the vampire retreated.
 
When Rillan looked at the boy again, he was unconscious and had peed himself.
 
Rillan laid the boy down on the ground and stared at him with sympathy.
The Fates have blessed you with great luck child,
Rillan thought, realizing that he was more on edge than he originally anticipated.

           
Turning toward the concerned calls in the darkness, Rillan decided to chance that the boy and whoever was looking for him were not a threat.
 
He had some questions that they may be able to answer, and he wanted to know why they were this far from the city at dusk.
 
“He’s here,” Rillan called out in answer to the increasingly frantic cries.

           
“Where,” the voice returned.

           
“Here.
 
Follow my voice.”

           
Minutes later a short, barrel-chested man in roughly made brown breeches and vest came into sight through the trees.
 
“Thank the Fates,” he breathed heavily, when he saw the boy lying on the ground.
 
He brushed past Rillan and knelt next to the Briac.
 
“Do you know what happened here, stranger?”

           
“He appears to have fainted,” Rillan responded sympathetically, as the man examined the boy.
 
“I believe he hit his head.
 
I think I frightened him.
 
He ran.”

           
The man looked up at Rillan momentarily.
 
“He has always been skittish.”
 
The man paused and wrinkled his nose, as he noticed the urine stained pants.
 
“I told him not to wander off.”
 
He stood up and offered a hand to Rillan in greeting.
 
“Well met, my friend.
 
I thank you for your help.
 
I never would have found him if you hadn’t called out.
 
I’m Brian.
 
The lump on the ground is my son Briac.”

           
Rillan nodded and clasped the man’s wrist.
 
“Rillan.
 
Please don’t thank me.
 
He would have found his way back to you himself, if I hadn’t scared the wits out of him.”

           
“The fool deserved it.
 
I told him to stay close.
 
The wood is dangerous these days.
 
My camp isn’t much, but you’re welcome to share it if you wish.
 
Safety in numbers.”
 
The man released Rillan’s wrist and bent to pick up the boy.
 
He lifted Briac easily and threw him over his shoulder to take him back to his camp.

           
“I appreciate the offer, but I have a long way to go yet.”
 

           
“You’re traveling at night?”

           
“I’ve never had trouble with it before,” Rillan replied, as they walked toward Brian’s camp.
 
“I’m not from this area.
 
Can you tell me why you speak so ominously, and yet are in the forest yourself
?
.
”

           
Brian gave Rillan a sidelong suspicious look.
 
“You haven’t heard about the upheaval in Noviodunum?”

           
Rillan sighed heavily.
 
“No.”

           
There was a long pause, as Brian debated how much he should say to a complete stranger he found standing over his son’s unconscious body in the forest at night.
 
He was starting to wonder if Rillan had more to do with Briac’s condition than he originally thought.
 
Clearing his throat, he decided on some common knowledge information that couldn’t get him into too much trouble if this guy was one of Tiberius’ men.
 
“A new militant faction has come to power.
 
The new senate is bent on fortification of the current holdings.
 
There have been some attacks from barbarians to the east.
 
But more than that, they’re recruiting for the army.”

           
Suddenly Rillan understood why the man and his son were in the forest a day’s hard travel from the city.
 
“Recruiting?”

           
Brian stopped walking and faced Rillan as if to answer a challenge, a hard angry look in his eyes.

           
Rillan held up his hands and shook his head.
 
“I’m nothing to do with the army, friend.
 
Honestly, do I look like I belong in the army?”

           
Brian really looked at Rillan for the first time.
 
His clothing was a bit old fashioned, but well made.
 
To Brian’s mind, Rillan looked a bit out of place.
 
It’s almost as though someone plucked him from a 100 years ago and set him down in the forest. Still, at least he wears breeches and not a toga or kilt.
 
“No.
 
I guess not.”
 
Brian backed down and started walking toward camp again.
 

           
“So are the burned houses part of the recruiting process,” Rillan asked.
If it’s wide scale, then it may not have anything to do with me.

           
“I wouldn’t put it past them to burn houses. They don’t like being told ‘no,’ and they like making examples of people.”

           
Rillan nodded contemplatively.
 
“And what of the settlements to the north?”

           
“I’ve seen several groups of men marched into town in chains.
 
Pressed into service.
 
I guess Tiberius is desperate enough for soldiers that he’s collecting men from the northern communities.
 
Keeps them in the army under threat of harm to the women and children left behind.”

           
Rillan had fallen victim to a similar recruiting method in his youth.
 
Anger boiled in him.
 
At least I know that this target deserves it.
 
“If Tiberius is taken out of power, who takes up where he left off?”

           
Brian paused again and shot Rillan a measuring look.
 
“Could be anyone in the senate.
 
One tyrant is about the same as the next.”

           
“I guess it’s too much to hope that he might be replaced by a good man,” Rillan said, staring off into the darkness.
 
As the men emerged from the tree line, Rillan spotted a small pile of gathered sticks and branches alongside two small packs.

           
Brian bent to set Briac on the ground.
 
“Whether or not a man is good is relative to the next and what he wants and believes,” Brian said.
 
“There are plenty of men in the senate who believe Tiberius to be the savior of the nation.”
 
Brian pulled a pack over to where he was crouching and took a thin blanket out of it.
 
“I suppose if you take into consideration that the eastern border would be overrun by now without the men Tiberius has pressed into service, you might say that Tiberius is only doing what is necessary.”
 

           
Looking up from Briac’s limp form, Brian found that he was completely alone.
 
There was no trace of Rillan anywhere.
 
Quickly, he piled the sticks and branches together.
 
“Spirits,” he whispered fearfully, as he hurriedly lit the campfire, staring into the trees, uncertain if Rillan had been real or a figment of his imagination.

* * * *

           
Noviodunum streets at night were mostly abandoned.
 
A few women draped in loose colorful sarongs stood near the main doors of a brothel next door to the largest of the inns on the main street.
 
Candlelight shone in all the windows and sounds of drinking and debauchery wafted out the windows and filled the street in front of the buildings.