Lorik The Protector (Lorik Trilogy) (22 page)

“We aren’t going to fight?” cried one of the volunteers.

“There will be plenty of time for that,” Lorik shouted over the muted thumps of their horses’ hooves. “We don’t want to get caught in the trees or separated. We’ll wait to fight on open ground.”

His answer must have satisfied the younger men. The volunteers followed Lorik without another word. They were young men, most not even twenty years old. They were used to obeying their fathers and they took Lorik’s order without argument or complaint.

They rode hard all morning and came out of the Wilderlands at midday. Lorik guessed they would begin seeing the raiders later that same afternoon.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am to be out of that forest,” said one of the volunteers. “I knew it was just us making those noises, but I have to admit I was more than a little nervous just the same.”

The other men laughed, but they all agreed. The Wilderlands was an otherworldly place, unlike anything Lorik had ever experienced. He had run into no danger when he scouted there, but he had felt things in the Wilderlands that he had never felt before in his life. The sense of being watched was overwhelming, and fear was palpable among the giant trees.

They rode back to the fort and were admitted without fuss. Constable Yorn was waiting for Lorik when he arrived.

“What did you find out?” he asked.

“Not much more than I already knew,” Lorik said. “We didn’t engage, just scared them a little.”

“You scared the Norsik raiding party?”

“The Wilderlands are a spooky place,” Lorik said. “It doesn’t take much to set a man’s nerves on edge. I’m pretty sure they’re moving in tribes, though. They were definitely traveling in groups.”

“And you’re sure there was more than one?” Yorn asked.

“Of course I am. They may not have banded together in a traditional sense, but they are attacking at the same time.”

Yorn’s face was twisted in despair. He cleared his throat and spat. “I’d better see to my men on the walls,” he said.

“That’s a good idea,” Lorik said. “I expect you’ll see the first of them coming out of the Wilderlands late this afternoon. Let my men sleep a few hours, then we’ll join you. Wake us if we aren’t up when you spot the raiders.”

Yorn nodded and then walked away. Lorik was too tired to care about the constable’s slights; he knew the man was insecure. Lorik found an empty bed and collapsed onto it. It felt like he had just closed his eyes when another volunteer was shaking him awake.

“They’re here,” the man whispered.

“All right,” Lorik said, rubbing his tired eyes and rising slowly from the bed.

He splashed cold water onto his face and then dried it on the tail of his shirt. He picked up his weapons and hurried up the watchtower. He found Yorn and three other men on top watching as a group of Norsik milled along the edge of the Wilderlands. They didn’t continue into the open ground beyond, but lingered at the edge of the forest.

“What do you think they’re doing?” Yorn asked.

“Waiting for the others, I suspect,” Lorik said. “We’ll saddle up and make a patrol. My guess is that there will be similar groups all along the Wilderlands border.”

“You leave the fort now, and I won’t let you back in,” Yorn warned. “I’m not taking chances with the Norsik this close.”

“We won’t put the fort in danger,” Lorik said. “But we can do more good on horseback, at least for a while.”

Lorik roused his volunteers, though he knew they and their horses were all tired. Lorik led them around to the southern side of the fort. He wanted them ready to ride, but he didn’t need them to patrol with him. Yulver had sailed his ship to the mouth of the harbor. He was close enough to help if he had to, but he didn’t want to be trapped in the small bay by Norsik ships.

Lorik rode out toward the Wilderlands and the Norsik party waiting there. The sun was sinking toward the western horizon, casting long shadows but still providing plenty of light. Lorik guessed there were around thirty raiders in the first party. The raiders looked up defiantly, but none rushed out to attack Lorik. He swept by and rode west. He found two more tribes waiting just inside the tree line. Then he turned and rode back toward the fort.

He knew that by morning there would be hundreds of Norsik raiders, perhaps even thousands. He felt sick knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop them. His whole purpose for coming north was to defend the northern villages from the raiders, but it looked as if the tribes had united and the raiders were now an invading army. And there was nothing Lorik or anyone else could do to stop them.

Stone had trouble dealing with the guilt of the errand he was on. A big part of him felt like he should be with Vera. If Lorik failed to slow down the Norsik raiders, they could catch Vera’s group of women and children, who had no escort or any kind of protection. He also felt guilty that he wasn’t with Lorik. His friend was riding straight into danger, and even though Stone felt certain he was doing the right thing, he also felt guilty simply because he was riding in the opposite direction.

His mission was to warn the village of Farns Cove and any settlements in between. Stone doubted that the raiders would head east along the coast, but he couldn’t be certain and he couldn’t help but worry about the farmer’s family he had stayed with. He had made a personal connection with them and felt responsible for their safety. He rode hard all day and made it to the large farmhouse a few hours after dark. He could see light inside the farmhouse and was relieved until he noticed the group of horses grazing between the house and the barn.

Stone knew the Norsik raiders had stolen the farmer’s horses. He drew his own mount to a stop while he was still several hundred yards from the ring of light around the house. He dismounted and waited to see if his approach had been heard by anyone. There was movement inside the house, but Stone couldn’t tell what was going on. He left his horse and made his way slowly toward the house.

He could hear voices inside, but he couldn’t make out what was being said. The people talking inside were Norsik, and Stone felt a cold stab of fear for the farmer and his family. If the raiders didn’t believe their story, they may have already killed the entire family. Stone moved silently to one of the windows, peering in from the side so that no one inside would see his face in the light from the windows. There were several lamps burning in the room, and Stone could see the raiders pacing. There were six men, all with weapons. Two sat at the large wooden table with cups beside them. One stood by the door, another by a window that looked out into the yard where their horses grazed. Two more paced back and forth across the room. There was no sign of the farmer or his family.

Stone decided to take his chances searching for the family or any evidence of what might have happened to them. He slowly made his way back out into the darkness and then moved toward the barn. There was no light inside it, but Stone slipped in and listened. It was only a moment before he heard whispering over the deep sounds of the animals breathing. He guessed the voices were coming from the loft, but in the darkness he couldn’t be sure.

“Pssst.”

The voices stopped immediately. Stone hissed again.

“Pssst.”

“Who is that?” came a voice, slightly louder than the whispers before.

“It’s Stone. I’m here to help.”

“How do we know it’s you?” came the voice.

“I stayed here not long ago. I rescued your children from the raiders. I came back with another scout a few days later.”

“We’re in the loft. Just walk in straight from the door until you reach the ladder.”

Stone moved forward in the darkness with his hands stretched out in front of him. He didn’t like feeling so exposed and helpless, but lighting even a small candle would almost certainly give away the fact that there were people in the barn. He moved slowly, shuffling his feet to keep from tripping over something in his path. When he finally reached the ladder he felt a small sense of relief. He climbed up the ladder and felt hands on his shoulders at the top.

“What are you doing here?” came the farmer’s familiar voice.

“The Norsik are sending an army through the Wilderlands. I’m warning the villages and settlements along the coast.”

“They came back,” the farmer said, referring to the raiders who were now holed up inside the farmhouse. “I knew they would, and now they’ve got my wife and children locked up in the house.”

“We have to do something,” said one of the farmer’s sons.

“We will,” Stone said. “Be we can’t just go charging toward the front door. They’re expecting that.”

“If we fight them they’ll kill my wife and children,” the farmer said.

“Only as a last resort,” Stone said. “The Norsik take women and children as slaves. They won’t want to hurt them if they can help it.”

“So what should we do?” asked one of the farmer’s sons.

“Your family is inside, so our best bet is to draw them out.”

“How will we do that?” the farmer asked.

“Oh, I think I have an idea,” Stone said, grinning in the darkness.

It took an hour to go over the details of the plan and get everyone in position. Stone was wrapped in his cloak so that his knives were hidden. The farmer had a knife in the back of his belt, but it was only for self-defense. The older man was terrified and Stone didn’t think he could count on the farmer during the fighting. They had walked a half mile from the farmhouse and then turned back, making their way back to the house and singing a bawdy drinking song with thick tongues. They leaned on one another and laughed. Stone had to carry the performance, but fortunately the farmer’s nerves helped him carry off the drunken ruse.

When they were finally in the yard of the farmhouse, the door swung open and light from inside shone out. Two men stepped out onto the porch.

“What the hell is this?” Stone said in a loud voice, slurring his words and swaying on his feet. “Your children dressing like savages or something?”

“Ca looki somby, Ortii!”
one of the Norsik shouted.

The farmer was too frightened to speak, and Stone looked puzzled. He needed to get the other raiders out of the house and in the yard.

“What is this jibber jabber?” he bellowed. “Where is Sorni? She needs to put her husband to bed. He’s had a might too much nip tonight, if you take my meaning.”

The two raiders on the porch spoke to one another, but then the farmer fainted from fear. Fortunately, it looked like he had just passed out from too much liquor.

“See!” Stone shouted. “I told you he needed a bed. I’ve carried him home, now come and help me get him inside.”

It wasn’t clear whether the Norsik understood Stone, or just acted instinctively. They came out of the house, all but one of them, and then down the steps into the yard. Stone waited, swaying on his feet, his hands now under his cloak and grasping a knife in each hand. He looked from the approaching Norsik raiders, who didn’t look worried in the slightest, to the farmer on the ground. He felt confident the raiders had believed his story, but there was still one raider in the house. It was imperative that he get inside before the raider had a chance to slaughter the farmer’s wife and daughters.

“Now!” Stone shouted.

He sprang forward, slashing his knife at the closest raider. The raider tried to ward off the blow, but Stone’s blade slashed through the muscle of the raider’s forearm. The man screamed, but so did the farmer’s sons, who came running in from either side of the yard. They had been hidden in the darkness, but now they sprinted forward, all four armed with spears. Stone had worried that they might grow squeamish at the last minute, but the boys had slaughtered farm animals all their lives. They didn’t hesitate to attack the Norsik. Three were run through with the spears, but one managed to avoid the deadly attack.

Stone’s opponent was still on his feet, but screaming and holding his arm. Stone ignored him for a moment and leapt to the aid of the boy who had missed his opponent. The raider had drawn his short, curved sword, but Stone smashed the brass knuckle guard of his knife into the raider’s head just behind the ear. The man fell just as Stone spun around and dropped to one knee. The wounded raider was slashing his sword at Stone, but the weapon whistled harmlessly overhead. Stone stabbed his knife into the raider’s inner thigh and felt the blade drag across the thick leg bone. The raider staggered backward and Stone saw blood arcing into the air like black rain drops. He knew he had severed a major blood vessel and that the raider would soon bleed to death, so he turned and sprinted toward the house.

He burst through the door just as the final raider was dragging the farmer’s wife out of the bedroom. Her daughters were shouting and trying to pull her back into the room, but the raider had her arm in a tight grip and wasn’t going to be denied. Stone saw the raider’s sword coming up and he reacted instantly, using one knife to block the sword and the other to gash the raider’s shoulder.

The Norsik roared in anger and kicked the farmer’s wife behind her knees, causing her to fall while he backpedaled away from Stone. The farmer’s wife was on her hands and knees between them now, and Stone hesitated for an instant, not sure how to attack without endangering the woman between them. Then, from behind Stone, a spear came whistling over his shoulder and skewered the raider through the chest, pinning him to the wall.

Stone glanced back and saw the farmer’s oldest son, standing on the porch just outside the open door. He nodded, and Stone returned the gesture. The fighting was over and now his overtaxed nerves made Stone tremble. He wasn’t afraid of fighting, but risking the lives of people he cared about was hard to deal with. He wasn’t sure why he cared so much for the farmer and his family; perhaps it was because in some ways he envied the farmer’s life. He could imagine himself and Vera on a farm, surrounded by children and grandchildren. It was a life he had never thought possible until he had met Vera, and now he wanted it more than ever, but he was reminded that evil men always target the innocent and the weak. He didn’t want to lose Vera, and seeing the farmer’s wife so helpless at the hands of the Norsik raider left him shaken. But he pulled himself together and stood up straight.

“All right,” he said. “Gather your things. We’re riding out of here tonight.”

The sun was rising as Stone led the small caravan away from the farmhouse. It had taken a little while for the farmer and his wife to deal with killing six men, even if they were Norsik raiders. Stone and two of the farmer’s oldest sons carried out the raider who had been pinned to the wall with a spear. There had been screams and even vomiting, which the farmer’s wife insisted on cleaning up before they left.

The farmer had a large wagon, and two of the seven horses the farmer owned were hitched to the wagon. The farmer’s four oldest sons rode horses, while the rest of the family rode in the wagon with a few prized possessions and enough supplies to sustain the large family for several weeks. The seventh horse was tied to the back of the wagon. The other farm animals were let out of the barn to fend for themselves.

Once Stone had the family moving south, he turned and rode hard for Farns Cove. He was so tired that he fell asleep in the saddle more than once. His back and bottom ached from being in the saddle so long, but he reached the small coastal town just before sunset. As he spread the word about the Norsik, most of the residents took the news in stride. They were used to raids and rumors of uprisings, but a few opted to pull stakes and move on. Stone had a hot meal at the Traveler’s Haven Inn and then slept until early the next morning. The innkeeper wasn’t leaving, but he had replenished Stone’s rations and served him a hot breakfast before Stone rode out again.

This time Stone pushed hard to the southwest. It was more important than anything else that he catch up with Vera now. He had done his duty, and although he still felt a twinge of guilt over having left Lorik to fight the raiders without Stone’s help, he knew that confrontation, either for good or for bad, was over now. The only thing he could hope to do was to find Vera and maybe gather a little news about the conflict along the border as he went.

It took three days of hard riding, but he finally met up with the growing caravan of travelers. Vera’s group had grown when it reached Timmons Gate, where many of the locals joined them in fleeing south. Vera had stopped her group for two hours, letting them rest while many of the townspeople gathered their belongs and joined her. There weren’t many horses left in the small town, but she found two that could pull a wagon loaded with food, barrels of ale, blankets, and what little medicines could be found. There was no healer in Timmons Gate, but an older woman who made a living as a midwife had a store of herbs and medicinal supplies that she brought along with her when she joined the group.

They set out late that same afternoon and traveled south until just before sunset. No word from the fort had come in, and Vera could only hope that was a good sign. Her greatest fear was that Lorik would be killed by the Norsik raiders and Liam would be cut off from her. But she did her best to keep the group moving. They set out early the second day, but most of the travelers were women who were forced to carry their belongings on their backs. They moved slowly and had to stop often for rest. Vera and the midwife were kept busy helping the travelers who fell victim to exhaustion, blisters, and footsoreness.

It was late on the fifth afternoon when she saw Liam riding toward her. She wanted to run to him, but she didn’t have the energy. She spent all her time either walking or helping those in need, often late into the night. A few of the travelers had fallen ill and she had spent a few nights sitting up with the sick. She refused to take a space on the wagon with the children, insisting that someone else take her turn riding for an hour.

When Stone drew close enough she went out to meet him. He looked haggard, but she thought he was as handsome as ever.

“It took you long enough,” she said with a smile.

“Too long for my taste,” he said.

“Do you think we’ve come far enough south?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly.

“We’ve passed several villages. Surely the Norsik won’t come this far.”

“It’s a hell of a chance to take,” Stone said. “We need someone to ride back and scout what’s happening. I haven’t heard anything from Fort Utlig or even Timmons Gate.”

“Neither have I. No word at all. But we’re all tired and worn down. We could use a break if you think it’s safe enough.”