“That nitwit Edward wouldn’t have sense enough to mobilize the army to close the pass and road, even if he had the balls to assume the authority. Someone else who wants to gain favor from royalty, but does not know the rules out there.”
“You think the sheriff may be playing both sides? He makes sure he is in favor with the King no matter who kills the boy, but if it is under his command he gains our King’s appreciation.”
“Obviously,” the Weapons Master agreed.
“What about the Earl? Would he send troops to assist his son?”
The Weapons Master barked a laugh as he said, “If that’s the case he’d need to send a hundred men, not a dozen.”
“Look at the prints. The survivors traveled up the road.”
Without another word they mounted and rode as if intending to ride their second pair of horses to death. They rode beside each other until midday, yet never passed a word. Rounding a bend in the road, a ragged lookout leaped to his feet and shouted for them to halt and identify themselves.
“We are the King’s two masters. Where is your captain?”
A sentry hobbled forward, his leg splinted and wrapped in strips of material looking like it was torn from his uniform. He stood at attention as well as able. “We don’t have a captain. Our lieutenant died from his injuries a while ago. I’m Corporal Martin, and I guess I’m in charge.”
The Weapons Master said, “Where are your men?”
The Corporal pointed. “In a clearing up there.”
“Have you sent a messenger to your post and asked for help?” the Slave Master asked, still seated on his horse.
“No sir.”
“Do you have horses and anyone well enough to ride?” the Slave Master continued.
The Corporal nodded. The action almost caused him to lose his balance. His face paled and only the other sentry grabbing his arm kept him upright.
The Slave Master said to the Weapons Master, “You talk to him, and I’ll go ahead and dispatch a messenger to get help for them.”
As the Slave Master trotted ahead, the Weapons Master turned to the Corporal. “A dragon did this?”
A nod.
“Anyone else passed by on this road today?”
The Corporal started to shake his head and stopped. “Wait. There was one gentleman. A young man and a peasant servant. He talked to the Lieutenant. He rode a horse fine enough for the King.”
“Edward! What did he say?”
“Sorry, sir. I was not close enough to hear them talk.”
“What happened after that?”
“The gentleman rode out, taking the road up the valley. He seemed to be in a hurry.”
“I’ll bet he was.”
The Corporal glanced at the sky again.”
“Why do you look up?”
“I think I’ll be searching the sky for dragons for a long time.”
“It was that bad, son?”
“Worse. I can still hear that creature screaming and crunching bones in his mouth. It tore the head off a horse and spit it out ten paces away. The horse hadn’t even fallen, yet. Are there other attacks?”
“We’re here to help stop them, Corporal. Anything else you need to tell me?”
At a shake of the head, the Weapons Master patted the Corporal’s shoulder and climbed back on his horse. When he arrived at the clearing, the Sword Master was watching a man stiffly climb into a saddle. His left arm looked broken, but otherwise, the man looked in better condition than any of the others in sight.
The Sword Master watched him ride off. “He’ll send help.”
“We need to go. That idiot Edward managed to get ahead of us.”
“I’d say impossible, but another soldier confirmed it, complete with a description that can be no other. He also identified himself to the soldier, by name.”
They spurred their horses and overtook the messenger before rounding the next curve on the road. Shortly after, their horses no longer had the spirit to run, so they slowed to a trot and later allowed them to walk. It was a better pace than the two men walking, but not by much. At mid-afternoon, the Weapons Master's horse quit.
They dismounted and gathered what they needed. Both had been used to fast foot travel when young so knew what they faced. If they found more horses, they would confiscate them in the name of the crown, if they didn’t outright buy them. But for now, they set a pace faster than the horses had been walking. While tired, they knew the temper of the King when he did not get his way and neither wished to displease him. They had heard from his trusted manservants that he still woke in the darkest nights, screaming in fear of dragons attacking him. If there was any task to succeed, this was it.
The Weapons Master scanned the road ahead as they moved and suddenly stopped walking. He pointed at the tracks of horses that had passed this way on the road. Two. Probably Edward and his peasant. He knelt and looked closer. “Fresh. No more than a short time ago.”
“Two horses. Exactly what we need,” the Sword Master said.
“No, I think not. The riders may have seen us and fled into the forest. If we pursue them, they will outrun us, but it tells me something spooked them. They should not be scared of two men walking the King’s Road unless they know of our reputations.”
The Sword Master nodded his agreement. “Keep your hands near your weapons, my friend.”
They continued walking the road and watching the hoof prints and footprints while also keeping their eyes on the road ahead. Late in the day, the Sword Master spoke to himself, as he examined more prints. “What do we have here?”
The Weapons Master continued to move on up the road ahead a few steps, studying the ground as he moved. “Those two horses never went further than this. It looks like they came up the road and turned around here. Why?” He glanced at the granite boulder beside the left side of the road and then on the other side of the road, which looked to be covered in the impenetrable underbrush.
“There.” The Sword Master pointed near the base of the boulder. The hoof prints clearly showed the animals had turned around at this location, one following the other.
They moved closer, eyes locked on the ground. Footprints showed where a man had dismounted and then walked into the forest.
“Edward?” the Weapons Master asked, the sound of wonder clear in his tone.
“That idiot? Alone? Couldn’t be.”
“Look again. The footprint is that of a well-made boot, not the sort to be found around here. The size is about right.”
The Sword Master grunted. “That inept fool should be still back at the river waiting for the flood to ease.”
“He might have made it across before the waters got too high.”
“We nearly killed our horses getting here. Imagine him and his procession of wagons and servants moving faster than us. It is not possible.”
The Weapons Master continued to examine the area. He moved further into the tangle of weeds and briars and found another print. This one was smaller, the print of a woman or an older boy. He saw another footprint, but the heel of the boot was from a different pair. Squatting, he glanced at his friend. “If he crossed the river the same day as us, he would have arrived in Nettleton a day later if they moved those wagons fast.”
“If he were in Nettleton we’d have seen him.”
“No,” the Weapons Master said, deep in thought. “You and I were chasing our tails for more than a day when that damn woman lied to us. Suppose he arrived while we hunted the wildling in the forest?”
“Yes, it’s possible, I suppose, but remember we’re talking about Edward. He would arrive after we left, and ride up here ahead of us. That is if he was a warrior. We’re dealing with Edward, the idiot, so we have something else in front of us.”