We’d hardly continued our trek when Kendra pulled to an abrupt stop and dropped to one knee. Her action alerted us to do the same, although I sensed no danger. Her arm raised, and her finger pointed off to the side of the trail to a heavy stand of small evergreen trees. Since there were no larger trees, I assumed the area had either burned in the recent past or been totally clear-cut by people. The trunks on the new growth were uniformly thick and tall. The young evergreens seemed to put up a solid, impenetrable wall.
Kendra hadn’t ever knelt like that before. She acted as a military leader in every respect. Her action scared me, so without thinking my hands reached for the bow and an arrow. While pulling them free, I also loosened my sword and then bent the bow to string it.
As I fitted the arrow, my eyes remained where Kendra pointed, not on my weapon. The evergreens began to grow as a thick wall about twenty steps from us, only thin brush between. The trees were small, their trunks the size of my arm, and barely twice as tall as a person. There seemed to be few if any other varieties but evergreens in the stand.
Roars from human throats broke the silence of the high mountains as two men broke free of the evergreens and charged us, long curved swords waving wildly above their heads. They were heavy-set men who ran like bulls through a pasture, ignoring whatever lay at their feet as they concentrated on scaring us with their ferocious shouting and blades flashing in the sunlight.
My arrow took the closest man high in the center of his chest, which would be brag-worthy if I hadn’t been aiming just above his navel and shot too high in my excitement. The long shaft all but disappeared into him, with only the bright colors of the fletching protruding. He stumbled a few more steps and fell face first.
The second man almost reached Flier, who had grabbed a short stick as big around as his thumb, and almost as useless against the curved sword. The attacker ignored the loss of his partner, never slowing and not even casting a glance at his fallen comrade. I fitted another arrow as fast as possible, but the man was almost on Flier, and their positions prevented me from taking another shot.
My attention shifted to Kendra. She was standing, her arm was cocked, her posture that of someone about to throw, and as her arm shot forward, she pushed off her rear foot to provide power. The spinning iron blade from the sheath on her forearm flew true. It hit the man dead center, a little lower than my arrow, but to defend myself and my pride, he was a lot closer to her.
I still had my second arrow ready to fly, but there was no need.
Flier’s expression was of wonder, not fear. He faced us ready to ask more questions. I said in the way of explanation, “We were trained by the King’s Weapons-Master.”
While true, it didn’t account for the new double-ended knife of Kendra’s, nor the new bow I carry, although he had taught me to shoot properly and would critique the height my arrow struck. He never settled for less than a perfect shot.
Flier said, “I thought he would kill me.”
Kendra said in a distracted tone, “Flier, take the best of their swords for yourself, and any other weapons they have. Give Anna one and Emma a knife if they carry them. Stay with the girls.” She again sounded military as she ordered him as if she was a commander in an army ready for another battle. She briefly turned to me, and her eyes flicked to the stand of evergreens where the men had emerged. “Come on.”
We took five or six steps before she pulled to another stop. She glanced my way long enough to mutter just loud enough to hear, “Gone.”
“Who?”
“A Mage. He winked into existence before I went to my knee, and now he is gone.” She pushed aside evergreen branches and moved ahead, into the small trees, letting the branches slap me when they swung back. I had two choices, hang back and let her blunder into danger, or stay up with her and ignore the cuts and scrapes.
We penetrated perhaps fifty steps and found ourselves in a small clearing. In the center, as if the evergreens didn’t like growing near it, stood an oval rock as large as a house. The surface was gray, smooth, the corners and top rounded. The carvings were clear, even at our distance.
I’d seen two others like it. Waystones. My feet carried me closer, where my hand touched the warm surface and traced the faint cartouches, icons, pictographs, or whatever was carved into the smooth surface. They were more worn than others I’d seen, probably as a result of the snow and freezing temperatures on the Vin Pass. The stone was still warmer than the air. Not hot, but warmer than the chilly air.
From right behind us, Flier said with a hushed voice, “As many times as I’ve traveled this pass, I’ve never seen that.”
“A Waystone,” I said. The girls were right behind Flier. For a moment I’d thought he left them unprotected on the road. I held a finger to my lips. They understood to remain quiet.
He approached and ran his fingers over the images. “There is another like this. Near Vin.”
Kendra pointed at the bare ground around it. “No trees, bushes, or grass.”
I answered, “None around the one at Crestfallen, either. A little grass, but not even a bush. I hadn’t thought much about it because the ground there is almost solid rock.”
Flier said, “Same with the one at home. But the pictures on the outside are clearer than this one. Things last longer in the desert. How did you know it was here?”
Before I could think of a suitable lie, Kendra said, “Those men had to come from somewhere. I expected to find their campsite and maybe more men.”
Flier not only believed her, but he also made a full turn searching for more, clutching the curved sword.
For his benefit, and because the mage may have traveled alone and there might be a campsite nearby, we made a search of the area and found nothing. I took us back to the path and the two dead men. “There might be something to explain their presence in their purse.”
Emma and Anna were sent ahead where we could still see them, but our actions were shielded from them. I intended to retrieve my gory arrow from the body. Good ones are as difficult to come by as good bows. Besides, there are short arrows, long ones, and those that were the size I needed. My bow couldn’t effectively use the others.
When I rolled the man over, I found that my arrow had broken off near the fletching when he fell on it. So, I examined the attacker with Flier and my sister. I said, “His skin is light, his features wide.”
“Not from the Brownlands,” Flier said with a certainty we all felt. “What were they doing at Kondor’s back door?”
There were scars on his face from old cuts. They were clear enough to see through his thick and tangled beard. His hands were callused. The clothing was heavy, coarse, utilitarian and faded. He wore a wide blue cloth belt tied tight around his middle, and a lump under the belt drew my attention. My fingers pulled a leather purse free. Inside were coins, including many silver and even two gold.
Two gold coins made a man wealthy. One would purchase a small farm including the house, barn, and animals. Two, a large farm and field hands. He also had a knife. I pulled it free from the belt and admired the workmanship. It was no knife used for casual farm work. It was a weapon, sharp, well cared for, and deadly.
He had no parchment, nothing on a thong around his neck to tell his country of origin, or anything else. We moved on to the other and found much the same, including the same two gold coins right down to the impressions of the same unknown man stamped on them. He also had several silver ones. Both men had been wealthy, but their clothing, scars, and callouses said otherwise. Therefore, the coins were new to them. The exact same amounts. It was recently paid to them, probably today, with their promise to attack and kill us.