Sheriff Taura laughed heartily. She was a robust, plain-featured woman, well into middle age, with six grown children. Her husband was the village blacksmith. From the look of her ears and eyes, Ashinji suspected that she had some human blood in her ancestry. More frontier people did than liked to admit it. There had been a time, many years ago, when humans and elves had mingled a little more freely, at least out in the border country.
“ You’re a good man, Lord Ashinji, thinking about your troops first and wanting to share their hardships with them,” Taura’s husband, Mareo, said.
“ It’s really no hardship,” Ashinji replied.
“ I’ve seen to it that your company all got fed a nice, hot meal with plenty of our good local beer. My husband checked all the horses’ shoes as well,” Taura said.
“ I thank you. Your hospitality has been exceptional.”
“ You asked me earlier, m’lord,” Taura continued, “if anyone in the area had fallen ill with any unknown sickness, and I told you I wasn’t sure. Well, I heard later this afternoon that a man out on one of the farms that’d been attacked by the bandits has gotten sick, and it doesn’t look like anything anyone has seen before.”
Ashinji frowned. “Does the man have strange swellings under his jaw and in his armpits and groin?” he asked.
“ Why, yes, I do believe that was what his wife said. So far, he’s the only one I know about, but there could be others.”
Ashinji finished his dinner and thanked Taura and Mareo for their help.
A sliver of moon winked coyly from behind a cloud, so the stars had the sky nearly to themselves tonight. A short walk brought Ashinji to where his company camped at the center of the village. Gendan and the others greeted him as he arrived. A couple of trestle tables had been set up, and the remains of a substantial meal littered plates and platters. Several oil lamps on poles illuminated the area.
“ Looks like you’ve all had just as good a dinner as I did,” Ashinji commented, glancing around at the members of the company sitting or lounging on the grass.
“ We’ve got some beer left, my lord, if you’re still thirsty,” said Gendan.
“ Oh, I think I could manage one more mug,” Ashinji responded, laughing. Gendan handed him an earthenware tankard filled to the brim, and Ashinji drained it in several swallows. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and put the empty tankard down on the table.
“ Gendan, Taura tells me that the plague has been reported on one of the farms recently attacked. That could mean that the bandits are infected.”
“ We’ve got to find them quickly then, and finish ‘em off, my lord,” Gendan replied.
“ We’ll ride directly to the fords tomorrow and cross over onto the Soldaran side,” Ashinji continued. “Maybe, if we’re lucky, we can find their camp, and if we are luckier still, they’ll all be there.” Ashinji sat down at the table beside the older man. “I suppose it’d be too much to hope that they can be persuaded to leave without us having to resort to bloodshed. I don’t mind telling you, Gendan, that I have no taste for killing wretches, even if they are human.”
“ I doubt we’ll have a choice, my lord,” Gendan replied a little sternly, sounding a bit like a schoolmaster chiding a pupil for faulty logic. “The plague’s got to be stopped.”
“ You’re probably right, but I pray you’re not,” Ashinji said thoughtfully.
“ Lord Ashinji, Captain Miri!” a voice called out from the darkness. “Kami is going to give us a song.” Kami was the youngest of the company, a girl possessed of great skill at arms and an exceptional singing voice.
“ We’ll worry about the bandits when we catch them, my lord. Right now, I just want to hear Kami sing,” Gendan said. Ashinji could see the flash of the captain’s even, white teeth in the lamplight.
“ A good plan, Captain,” Ashinji agreed.
The Saihama River ran shallow and swift over a bed of gravel studded with larger rocks. These fords were the only place the river could be crossed for many leagues in either direction. The river had always been the undisputed boundary between the elven lands of Kerala on the north side, and the human duchy of Amsara to the south. This was the first time in many years that there had been any trouble. Amsara had never been a threat, despite its relative proximity, and Ashinji preferred to believe that the human lord of the duchy had no knowledge of the cross border attacks.
The horses splashed into the water, ankle deep, and Ashinji called a halt to allow the animals to drink. On the far shore, the forest grew dense and dark. After the horses had drunk their fill, the company continued across and headed west along the gravel-strewn bank, paralleling the trees.
“ Stay alert, everyone,” Ashinji instructed. He scanned the trees and the ground ahead, looking for any clue that people might be near. Day’s end was near, and soon, nightfall would force them to break off their search and make camp.
“ What do you say, Gendan? Should we go on or stop for the night?”
“ Let’s continue on a little further, my lord,” Gendan suggested.
“ What do you sense, Captain?” Ashinji asked, staring intently into the craggy face of the older man. The shadow of his helmet obscured Gendan’s eyes, but Ashinji could see his mouth pursed thoughtfully.
“ I had a premonition this morning that we’d find what we were looking for today…no, that you , my lord, would find what you’ve been waiting for.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what the last bit means, but I have a very strong feeling that whatever it is, it’s close by.”
Ashinji’s heart skipped a beat. “My father has always put his complete trust in your advice, Gendan, and so shall I. We’ll continue a little further.” He urged his horse onward.
“ Lord Ashinji, wait!” Gendan barked. Startled, Ashinji pulled up and turned in his saddle, frowning. Gendan pointed downstream. “Listen.”
Ashinji heard it faintly at first, then more loudly. “Someone’s shouting… in Soldaran!” Ashinji exclaimed. “They seem to be headed right for us.” He checked the chin strap of his helmet and drew his sword. “Let’s go!” He spurred his black gelding, and the horse immediately leaped forward into a gallop.
The company raced headlong down the riverbank, Ashinji and Gendan in the lead. Rocks shot out from underneath the horses’ flying hooves, ricocheting off the soldiers’ leather and metal clad bodies. As they thundered around a bend in the channel, Ashinji spotted a group of humans standing near the river’s edge. They all froze for a heartbeat, then turned and began racing away along the bank, all except two, who stood rooted to the spot, either too terrified or astonished to run. Ashinji tightened his grip on his sword hilt and prepared to strike.
Suddenly, like deer startled by hunting hounds, the two humans leapt apart and away, the larger man taking off downstream after the rest of his retreating comrades, the smaller one-a boy from the look of him-running for the trees.
Clever move , thought Ashinji as he twisted in the saddle to mark where the smaller human had gone. For an instant, it had looked as though the boy’s hands were glowing with magelight, but that was impossible. Humans had no magic.
“ Gendan!” he shouted, pulling up and turning his horse so sharply that it reared back on its haunches. “Go after the main group. You know enough Soldaran to offer them surrender. Kill them only if you have to. I’ll go after the boy.” Gendan nodded and galloped off, the company riding at his back. Ashinji spurred the gelding into a canter towards the woods.