“If I knew that I don’t think we’d be in this position, but I’m afraid I’m probably just a casualty of something a lot bigger than me.”
“Your cousin’s message” nodded Salonius. “That soldier was killed to prevent the message reaching the fort and you were…“ He faltered for a moment. “What happened to you was for the same reason. So…”
“So whatever’s behind all this has something to do with Petrus and the Saravis Fork fort. And that means it’s possible that prefect Cristus is tied into this somehow, given his connections with Saravis Fork. But we can’t rule out anyone just because there’s no obvious connection. Whatever you say, I’ve made a few enemies in my time.”
Salonius sat back and folded away the remains of the cheese and meat.
“Well I suppose we’ll find out more when we get there.”
The two men stood and packed their saddle bags once more, keeping a surreptitious but keen eye out on the landscape as they did so. There was no further sign of movement and the early morning mist was beginning to burn off, leaving verdant green stretching away to the distant hills. Untethering the horses, they mounted and navigated their way out of the undergrowth, back onto the road.
The miles passed by quickly and quietly as the sun climbed steadily higher, picking up a warmth that had been absent the previous day. The sporadic birdsong gave way gradually to a day filled with chirruping, the hum of bees among the flowers by the road, the distant sounds of lowing cattle and other farm noises, and the steady crunch of their hooves on the gravel of the road. Conversation had been occasional and brief, both riders acutely aware of their surroundings and taking pains to notice any and all movement within sight while apparently remaining oblivious to any observer.
As the sun had passed its zenith and begun the slow descent toward the hills and the western ocean, the pair stopped at a ruined barn and consumed a few more chunks of bread and meat in a sheltered and defensible position. Once again finishing their meal and packing away the remains, Salonius was withdrawing his hand from the bag when Varro grasped his hand and pointed out of a window, the glass long gone, frame rotting and sill covered with ivy.
“Look there!”
Salonius followed the direction and spotted two figures on horseback. The riders were perhaps half a mile distant, visible where they’d broken cover of the few sparse trees. There could be little doubt of their unsavoury intentions, given the fact that they moved so swiftly and surreptitiously across open countryside parallel with the road. He squinted but could make out little detail other than their being covered with dark cloaks.
“They’re getting ahead of us. Perhaps they lost us?”
Varro shook his head. “They know exactly where we are. They’re just taking the opportunity while we’re busy to cover the open ground quickly so they can get back in cover and wait for us to pass.”
“Then we go on as normal?”
“Yes,” Varro nodded.
“What do you plan to do about them?” the young man asked as he tied the thongs on the saddle bag.
“I’ve been thinking about that. I think we’ll have to deal with them tonight. The village is a crossing point for the valley road. It’s the only bridge across the river and the water up there’s quite fast and deep. The riders could theoretically go round, but it’s a little precarious in places and not something you’d try in the dark.”
“So they’ll have to go through the village?” Salonius frowned.
“Likely. If it were still light they could get ahead round the hillside and off to the Imperial outpost, but then they’d lose track of us, so I think they’ll stay within sight. That means we need to slow down slightly. I want to reach the inn as it gets dark, so that they’re forced to either cross the bridge where we can see them or camp down somewhere this side of the village.”
The young man smiled.
“And whatever they do, we’ll know where they are.”
Varro nodded.
“But tonight I think we’ll probably have to take care of them. I want to get a closer look at who we’re dealing with here.”
The two mounted up once more and rode on toward the village nestled between steep, protective hillsides and pierced by a swift young river pouring down from the mountains.
Their pace slowed barely noticeably, and Varro and Salonius first caught sight of the village as the last arc of the sun disappeared over the valley side, plunging the floor into gloom. The valley was surprisingly narrow at this point, two rocky spurs jutting out from the hills and almost meeting like pincers. In the gap lay strewn a collection of buildings, mostly constructed in northern Imperial style with a dark grey stone base reaching as high as the windows, surmounted by timber uppers. Some houses consisted of only a single floor, that being the favoured style of many of the northern peoples, but here and there some buildings also had an upper floor like the townhouses and apartment blocks of the more southern Imperial cities. Through the centre of the village flowed the river, not wide, but deep and fast, filling the valley with a background roar.
Salonius took the opportunity to cast a glance behind him but saw no sign of their pursuers. In fact they’d not seen them for several hours now, and the young soldier was beginning to worry they’d gone ahead through the village already.
There were few signs of life as they approached the outermost buildings. These were farms, the continual sound of roaring water now joined with the bleating of sheep and the squawking of chickens in their enclosure. The two men rode slowly across the narrow stone bridge and squinted ahead. Darkness had descended swiftly since the sun set and the grey stone and dark oak constructions loomed as deeper shadows within the gloom. A few houses showed signs of flickering lights within. Tallow candles, Salonius thought. Oil was expensive this far north and a poor hill-farming village would be unlikely to have a regular supply.
The inn stood overlooking the central space of the village, a green with a constantly flowing spring from a boulder pile that fed a small stone trough before trickling down a runnel and into the river. Salonius smiled appreciatively as he took in the welcoming sight of a large, well lit double storey building. The door was of the stable variety, separated into upper and lower panels. The lower was latched shut; the upper standing open and casting a welcoming yellow glow onto the dark ground outside.
Wordlessly the two men dismounted and led their horses to the door. Varro handed the reins to his companion and went inside, disappearing from view for a couple of minutes as he approached the bar. Salonius stood quietly holding the reins, taking the opportunity to look around in a bored fashion and observe his surroundings. The bridge was narrow and of stone. There was little hope of any rider crossing it quietly, so Varro was right. Unless their pursuers had taken the chance to get ahead this afternoon, they would have to stay in the valley for the night, presumably close enough to be able to keep an eye on the village and their quarry. So long as he and Varro alternated sleep they could watch the bridge easily from the inn. He smiled.
“Over here!” Varro’s voice called from around the side of the building.
Salonius led the horses at a walk around the building and to the stables where Varro waited with a boy in an apron. The stable hand reached up and took the reins, while the two guests collected their various bags and important belongings from the saddles, after which he led the horses to their accommodation for the night. Varro and Salonius watched him disappear, noting where their mounts would be stabled, and then strode in through the side door, into the inn. Varro stopped by the entrance and spoke to his companion in a hushed voice.
“I’ve arranged a room at the other side of the inn; the direction we entered the village. I’ll explain when we’re up there.”
The two swiftly passed through the warm, welcoming bar and trotted lightly up the stairs to the rear. At the end of the corridor, Varro stopped and fumbled with a key until the lock released with a click and the door swung open. Salonius crossed the room and dropped the bag on the floor before approaching the window and peering around the side of the frame into the darkness beyond.