Raymer looked down at his bare feet, the filthy and tattered trousers that nearly fell off his thin hips, and the shirt that had once been tan. It now hung in charcoal colored ribbons. But it was his bare feet that concerned him. The rocks were sharp. Even the sand was sharp, and plants with thorns grew in abundance.
Quint said, “Stop thinking and do it before they capture us standing here waiting for you.”
Raymer stepped gingerly onto the center of the narrow ledge. His toes tried to find something to grip. He took another step on the steep decline and found it was not slippery, as he’d feared. The ledge was probably wide enough at the top for a horse to navigate if the animal could be encouraged to step upon it, but further down it narrowed.
Raymer’s confidence grew with every step. He heard the others moving behind, and the shouts of the army louder. Some of them would have arrows. He moved faster.
The ledge sloped quickly near the top, then leveled as it went lower, but it also narrowed, unless his eyes deceived him. A glance over the edge revealed a cliff below that was taller than the tallest building. No, taller than ten buildings. One misstep and he’d fall long enough to think about all his misdeeds in life.
Despite the danger from the ledge, his pace increased as the shouts grew closer. His feet were already sore but would heal. The ledge turned and followed the side of the cliff, always dripping lower, sometimes faster than others. He lifted his head and looked at the path in front of them and almost stumbled.
The ledge came to an end.
Raymer glanced behind and saw that Quint had noticed the same thing.
But a smile formed and Quint said, “Trust me.”
There was not a choice. Raymer turned and moved gingerly to the end of the ledge. As he got closer, there appeared to be a lip where the trail simply ended, but he kept on. From Quint’s knowing smile he expected to find a ladder or perhaps a rope.
But the ledge still appeared to end. He slowed and advanced the last few steps cautiously. The ledge didn’t end. It continued around a point of rock, turning back on itself like a switchback on a mountain trail at home. As he rounded the point, he almost returned in the same direction as he came from.
Around the sharp bend spread a wide, flat area, large enough for ten men to stand. The ledge continued to travel down, but Raymer stepped aside and waited, catching his breath. Quint and Ander appeared, both wearing relieved smiles when they turned the corner.
Quint said to Anders, “Exactly as I was told. This was made hundreds of years ago when my family was warring with yours.”
Ander said, “Made? This trail was made?”
Quint shook his head and pointed up. “They can’t see us from up there. Can’t throw rocks down on us and can’t shoot arrows. All they can do is follow down that ledge, one at a time.”
Ander continued, saying what Raymer was thinking, “You said it was made.”
Quint motioned to the marks on the rear of the stone wall. “Dug out by chisels. This wide spot only. But this is where we stand and fight. Turn them back.”
“We could just keep on and get away,” Raymer said.
“They’d follow and catch us by nightfall. Right here we convince them not to follow us,” he smiled as he stepped to the wall and reached into a split in the stone. He pulled a staff into view. Then two more. Looking at Raymer with a sly smile he said, “Ever try one of these against a man who’s not an image in your mind?”
Raymer accepted the staff and his fingers wrapped around it as if he’d been born with it in his hand. “How’d you know they were there?”
“This path? This place and weapons stashed here? I was briefed before I set foot into this heathen land of yours. My people suspected betrayal by King Ember, but wanted peace so badly they sent me anyhow. But not unprepared.”
Ander slipped his hand inside the crack and pulled it back with a sack attached. He looked inside. “Grain. Dried nuts and fruit.” He reached again and pulled a small leather bag that jingled with the sound of coins. He handed it to Quint without opening it.
Raymer said, “If this was placed here for your possible use, there are probably more stashes along the way.”
“My people are maybe too trusting, but we are not stupid.”
The shouting above had quieted. Raymer jabbed a thumb up into the air. “What now?”
“We wait. You and me with staffs. Each time one of them shows himself we attack.”
“Here on the ledge?” Raymer asked.
We have room to move. We’ll take them by surprise and shove them over the side.”
Ander stepped closer, meeting Quint’s gaze from his shorter size, but no less serious. “They’ll die.”
Quint said easily, “If you look at their hands you’ll see swords. They intended for us to die. Why are you upset if we will kill armed soldiers who are doing their best to run us through?”
Raymer nodded in partial agreement. “This doesn’t set well with me either, Ander. But if you wish our permission to walk back up to that ledge and warn them of our intentions I have no objections.”
Quint said, “Go there if you like, but don’t return to us. Perhaps it will be better for all if you do leave.”
“No, I stay! But I have never killed a man, nor seen one killed.”
“That will change soon,” Quint said. “I hear them coming down that ledge. When we strike, I expect to hear blood-curdling screams of terror as they fall all the way to the bottom.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The three of them stepped closer to the back of the rear rock wall and grew silent. The men chasing them called encouragement to the ones on the ledge in front, urging them to move faster. The voices and boots stepping on the loose gravel on the ledge allowed Raymer to pinpoint their location. The first of the troops rounded the corner, watching the ledge in front of himself instead of lifting his gaze and seeing the men with staffs waiting.
The soldier never really had time to look up and see them. Quint held his staff chest high at one end, waiting for the man to appear. A solid jab with the end of the staff at the shoulder as it emerged from around the corner sent him toppling over the side of the cliff. As Quint had anticipated, the scream chilled them, and probably petrified the others behind him on the ledge.
The abrupt killing and subsequent scream made Raymer realize he was near to losing his breakfast, but he hadn’t had any. Still, the sour taste of bile filled his mouth, and the abrupt ending of the scream already haunted him. He would hear it again on dark nights. If it affected him so much, what must those following the first soldier think?
He slipped and fell, that’s what they’d think. The next in line would come around the point with more caution, perhaps expecting a rock to trip over, so his attention would be at his feet. He shuffled ahead slowly, his eyes focused on the path ahead as if to avoid the fate of the first.
Standing nearly out of sight, Quint leaped forward and jammed the end of his staff into the man’s chest. If anything, the second man screamed louder and longer, until it was mercifully cut off by a sickening sound of the body striking the rocks below.
“Now they begin to wonder,” Quint said softly. “The next one will peek around before taking a step.”