Search for Audric (27 page)

"Unless I am mistaken," Gunnar said softly to Horst, "I have probably ridden it."

Horst glanced up at Gunnar with questioning eyes. Suddenly, he smiled and nodded. "Do we go hunting tonight?"

"We do," nodded Gunnar, "just the two of us."

Monte arrived with the two horses, and the group mounted up and rode out of Goodland. Horst's eyes remained on the surface of the road for the entire trip back to the campsite.

Jared and Kerzi sat by the fire. They seemed to be in the middle of a conversation, but they quieted as the warriors returned. Kerzi held his breath as he waited for the last of the four warriors to appear and then he exhaled loudly.

"I guess he got smart and left town," Kerzi sighed with relief.

"No," smiled Gunnar as he tossed the pouch of gold to the merchant, "but he is planning to. The people of Goodland don't want him anymore."

"You didn't kill him?" asked Kerzi.

"No," Gunnar shook his head, "although he gave me reason to. Twelve to four odds were not good enough for him. He had two archers on the roof of the tavern. Some man in the town shot both of them."

Kerzi smiled as he hefted the pouch of gold. He knew he could use the pouch to buy a wagon and get a fresh start, and he was about to say so, but Gunnar walked away. The Arin prince retrieved his writing box and sat alone near the edge of the clearing. Talot and Monte went out hunting, and Horst slipped off into the trees. After a few minutes, Gunnar rose and approached the campfire. He asked Jared to go off for a walk and the lad obeyed. Kerzi watched curiously as Gunnar melted some wax and then sealed the paper with something from his pouch. Kerzi immediately thought of the note he had given to the royal palace in Oran.

"What are you sealing that with?" the old man asked.

Gunnar smiled and handed the merchant the ring. Kerzi stared at it for a bit, and his eyes widened.

"Are you a thief after all?" gasped Kerzi. "I would not have believed that of you."

"You know that I am not," chuckled Gunnar as he handed the note to the old man and retrieved his ring. "Why do you refuse to believe it?"

"I guess I don't want to," smiled Kerzi. "If you are who I think you are then I can hardly think of you as a son."

"I would be happy for you to think of me as a son," smiled Gunnar. "How long have you suspected?"

"I don't know for sure," admitted the merchant. "I knew there was something special in you from the first day we met, but I never imagined that you were a prince, not even after Horst joined up. I think I finally figured it out the first day in Anatar when you and I went in to speak to the king. His eyes shined bright when he looked at you, sort of like the glow a father gets when he first sees his newborn child. I knew that it meant something special."

"Well you will get to see him again," smiled Prince Antion. "You must present that note at the royal palace in Anatar. They will outfit you with a new wagon."

"I cannot accept charity from the prince of Arin," Kerzi shook his head. "I have plenty of gold. I will have a new wagon built and continue on as I have always done."

"You can't do that," the Arin prince shook his head, "at least not for a while. I put fear into Babul, but he or his men might try to extract revenge on you for the beating they received today. It is not safe for you in Capri right now. Besides, this is not charity. Arin needs men like you right now. With the coming war, we need constant wagon runs between Kyland and Anatar. You are an honest, hard-working merchant. With this note from me, my father will know that he can trust you, not only with shipments of goods, but messages as well. He cannot send those with just any merchant."

"That is sounding pretty good," Kerzi nodded. "He pays well, and I won't have to worry about what cargo I am going to deliver. That will be chosen for me."

"Good," smiled the prince. "That is settled then. You will leave first thing in the morning. I must ask you to keep my identity secret. I still worry about the Borundans reading people's minds."

"Have no fear, Prince Antion," chuckled the old man. "I hope you don't mind, but I had to say that just once. I have called you Gunnar for so long."

"How did Jared act after we left," the prince asked, as he turned more serious. "Did he fret about the Talent within him?"

"Somewhat," nodded the merchant, "but I spoke to him about it. He truly saved my life, and he knows it. I think this was perhaps the very best way for him to discover his Talent. He is still not comfortable with it, but he will do nothing rash. He loves you like a brother, Gunnar."

"I know," nodded the prince, "and I must care for him as a brother would."

"Protect him," lectured the old man, "but not overly so. Give him room to breath, and put your faith in him. If you don't, you will always be required to protect him, and that is not healthy for a growing man. He has to have a sense that he is contributing."

"I will try to keep that in mind," promised the Arin prince.

Talot and Monte returned with six rabbits, and Kerzi slid the note into his pouch. Gunnar hid the ring in his pouch and called for Jared. The rest of the day was spent resting and mending the many minor tears that usually develop on the trail. Horst returned after being away from the camp for several hours, but he said little and only responded when spoken to.

The evening meal consisted of rabbit stew and roast rabbit, and everyone turned in early. Talot was assigned the first sentry slot and Monte the last. By the time Horst relieved Talot the moon was high overhead. As soon as Horst was sure that Talot was sleeping, he woke Gunnar up. The two princes moved stealthily away from the camp to talk.

"I am not happy leaving the camp with no sentry," frowned Gunnar. "Maybe I should ask Kerzi to take a watch?"

"He will have a long ride tomorrow," Horst shook his head. "After what happened in Goodland yesterday, I doubt that anyone would want to attack our campsite."

"I can't take that chance," decided the Arin prince. "I will wake Jared. At least he will be able to wake the others. Wait here and I will return shortly."

The Arin prince slipped back into the camp and woke Jared. He used the horse language to tell the lad to keep a watch and wake everyone if he heard anything. Jared nodded his understanding and Gunnar slipped through the woods to meet with Horst again.

"How far do we have to go?" Gunnar asked.

"Not very far at all," replied the Odessian prince. "He is bold, but he is also smart. He has kept the high ground to himself and placed his camp between the town and us. We would have a hard time slipping out without his knowing about it."

"He is very much at home in the woods," nodded Gunnar. "Let's go."

Horst led the way as the two princes moved quietly through the trees. It soon became obvious to Gunnar that Horst had mapped out the entire route in his mind. He knew exactly where to go to avoid tripping over large roots, or stumbling into an animal burrow. The chosen path detoured around a long row of brambles and a steep incline where the sliding pebbles underfoot would alert anyone still awake. In fact, Horst had taken so much care in mapping out the most silent path to their destination, that it shocked both of them when the sound of a tiny bell split the air. The two princes looked at each other in the moonlight with puzzled expressions. The bell had been close, but neither one of them knew what had caused it.

"Raise your arms high over your heads so I can see that they are free of weapons," called a calm voice not far away. "I will not ask twice, and I do not miss what I aim at. Do it now."

"This is embarrassing," Prince Umal said under his breath as he raised his arms high over his head.

"Don't dwell on it," chuckled Prince Antion as he also raised his arms. "As no one understands horses as well as you, the same is true of forests and our friend. Let's go let him gloat and get this over with."

"We're coming into the camp," called the Odessian Prince as he started to walk towards the hidden campsite. "I hope you have some tea on the fire."

The small clearing was dark, except for a sliver of moonlight that pierced the canopy creating a pale oval of light upon the ground. As the two princes moved through the low brush to enter the clearing, a man stepped out of the darkness and into the pale oval. He was a young bearded man with shoulder-length black hair, and he held a long two-handed sword.

"There is no fire," grinned the mystery archer. "That would surely give my position away. How did you find me?"

"I am not without skills of my own," retorted Prince Umal. "Can we lower our arms now?"

"What was with the bell, Derri?" asked Prince Antion as he dropped his arms and walked into the clearing to stand in front of the archer.

"One cannot stand sentry when one travels alone," grinned Prince Derri. "I picked up a bunch of small bells in the marketplace in Kyland and several spools of thread. Each night I spread a perimeter around my campsite. It has given me a few false alarms when animals trip it, but that is preferable to not waking up in the morning."

"Thank you for being in Goodland yesterday," Prince Antion said sincerely. "Were it not for you, some of us would have died."

"What are friends for?" smiled the Salacian prince.

"How did you happen to be there?" asked the Odessian prince. "I cannot believe it is a coincidence."

"I have been following you since you left Kyland," answered Prince Derri.

"Following us?" gasped Prince Antion. "Why?"

"A number of reasons," shrugged the Salacian prince. "Had I asked to join with you, I am sure that you would have refused me, besides it took time for my beard to grow in. I could not possibly hide in Anatar without a disguise. Too many people there would have recognized me."

"Does your father know where you are?" asked Prince Antion.

"He knows that I am with you," answered Prince Derri, "but not where I am. He encouraged me to join with you, although I needed no encouragement. Whatever threatens your family, threatens mine. It has been so since the Great Peace began."

"It is more than mere tradition," smiled Prince Antion. "Both of you are like brothers to me, as if we were from the same family."

"Brothers," agreed Prince Umal, "although some are more devious than others," he added with a smile as he looked at Prince Derri.

"You aren't still angry with me over that incident in Kyland, are you?" chuckled Prince Derri.

"A bit," Prince Umal laughed. "I do admit it was a clever ruse to speak in private, but part of me still seeks revenge for being held prisoner for hours in a cold stone cell."

"I will suffer confinement in a yurt outside of Natura for my punishment," the Salacian prince said seriously.

"A yurt is not a prison," the Odessian prince retorted. "You Salacians do not understand the simplicity of the life of a nomadic people. A yurt is warmth and comfort in a hostile environment. It is the essence of the Odessian lifestyle. It is not a prison with cold, stone walls."

Prince Antion doubled over in laughter. As long as he had known his two friends, Prince Derri had always teased Prince Umal about the Odessian yurts. No matter what the topic of conversation was, the Salacian prince always found a way to divert it to a yurt.

"It is good to have you here, Derri," the Arin prince said as he regained his composure. "I would have indeed refused to let you join us in Kyland, but I would have been wrong to do so. It is fortunate that you are as stubborn as you are. We will need your help to track the killers of Jared's father."

"If there is any trail at all," promised the Salacian prince, "we will find the killers."

"We should return to our camp," urged Prince Umal. "Jared is not trained well enough to stand sentry duty."

"I agree," nodded Prince Antion. "Get your things, Derri, and I will tell you about our friends along the way."

* * *

The morning had been awkward as Gunnar introduced Kenra to the rest of the camp. Everyone learned that Kenra had been the mysterious archer in Goodland, and that he was an old acquaintance of Gunnar and Horst, but little else was said about him except that he was an expert tracker. The group had finished their morning meal and were preparing to split up with Kerzi heading west to Anatar and the rest of the group moving north through the forest towards the last known location of Jared's father.

"Kerzi is not strong enough for such a journey," Talot said softly as he caught Gunnar alone. "While his wounds are healed and his skin looks fine, he is as weak as a newborn puppy. One of us must accompany him on his journey."

"Kerzi is stubborn and will not take kindly to anyone telling him that he is incapable of doing something," Gunnar pointed out. "He will probably refuse an escort."

"Perhaps," sighed Talot, "but he is not fit for such a long journey."

Gunnar frowned and turned to look at the old man. Kerzi shuffled around slowly as he tried to ready his horses for the journey, and Gunnar knew that Talot was correct. The merchant was not fit for a long journey by himself. The Arin prince stood watching for a minute, his mind searching for potential solutions. Finally, he nodded to himself as he realized what he must do. He walked over to Kerzi and waited for the old man to notice him.

"It seems weird leaving without a wagon," Kerzi said softly. "I have spent my whole life centered around one."

"You will have another one soon enough," smiled Gunnar, "but I am going to delay your departure for a few days if you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all," Kerzi brightened, "but why?"

"You know Capri fairly well," shrugged Gunnar. "You may prove helpful when we speak to the villagers up north. The rest of us are foreigners, and they may not open up as easily to us."

"Anything I can do to help," the old man smiled and nodded.

Gunnar helped the old man load his horses, and the group moved out in single file. Jared led the group, but Kenra rode right behind him, the Salacian's eyes constantly scanning the ground before them. At times the forest was dense with fallen trees and underbrush, but Jared always appeared to know where he was going. He would often leave the trail, turning into what appeared to be a maze of brush, but the maze would soon give way to another trail that had not been visible from the previous one.

After hours of maneuvering through the forest, Jared led the group to a small clearing alongside a stream. He halted his horse and sat staring at the clearing as if expecting to see his father come running towards him. Tears formed in his eyes as he slid off the horse and walked forward. Kenra also dismounted and held his hand up to the rest of the group to keep them from riding into the clearing. The Salacian tracker followed Jared, watching the ground with every step. Jared walked to the stream's edge and disappeared from view as he passed behind the edge of a cliff that ran along the water upstream. Kenra followed and found Jared kneeling in a small, hidden alcove carved into the face of the cliff.

Kenra nodded in appreciation of the campsite the man had chosen. The alcove would not be visible to anyone except someone on the other side of the stream, and the cliff across the stream was considerably higher and dense with trees. It was not a likely place for someone to be without a reason. The campsite itself was simple. There was an old stone fire ring and smoke stains on the wall of the cliff. There was just enough room for three or four people to stretch out for the night, and Kenra imagined that the stream provided fish as well as water.

"It is a nice campsite," Kenra commented. "Is this the last place you saw your father?"

"It is," nodded Jared. "We spent many months here at several different times. When anyone got close, we would move to another campsite, but months later we would return here. It was father's favorite site. I can still picture him sitting there smoking his pipe. At night the stars over the stream would be bright and twinkling. In springtime the stream would sometimes rise high and flood most of this place, but the waters always receded, and we eventually came back again. We never bothered anyone," Jared suddenly frowned. "Why did everyone chase us?"

"I don't know," Kenra answered sadly. "There are always bad people in the world, but you and your father certainly did not seem to be a threat to any of them. Who can say what goes through people's minds?"

Kenra knelt and ran his hand through the ashes in the fire ring. His eyes drifted to a small ledge jutting out from the cliff face where someone had often tapped his pipe to empty it. He too could almost picture a man sitting there, relaxed in his secret hideaway.

"Did this alcove flood every spring?" he asked Jared.

"Every one that I ever knew about," nodded the lad. "It wasn't terribly bad, though. We always had to rebuild the fire ring, but the floods usually left some wood behind for the fire. I guess the good and bad always evens out."

"Did others ever use this alcove for camping?" questioned the tracker.

"I don't think anyone else knows about it," Jared shook his head. "If father had ever seen someone else camping here, he would never come back. Once a secret place is discovered, it is not secret any more."

Kenra turned and gazed downstream. He could not see Gunnar or the others, but he could hear the sounds of their voices and the restlessness of the horses. He turned and looked upstream and became aware of Jared watching him closely.

"What are you looking for?" asked Jared. "How can you possibly find the killers by standing here and staring at the water?"

Kenra turned and smiled at Jared. "Everybody leaves traces of their passing, Jared. Sometimes those traces are hard to find, but they are there. One must learn to be patient and observant, but there is always something to discover by looking closely."

"What have you discovered by looking at this campsite?" asked Jared.

Kenra frowned thoughtfully as he stared at Jared. Instead of answering the question, he signaled for the lad to sit and then sat down himself.

"Tell me of your father's death," urged the Salacian tracker.

"There is nothing to tell," shrugged Jared. "I did not see it happen. One day he sent me to a village not far to the east. When I returned, he was gone. I waited here for him for several weeks, and he never returned."

"Then how do you know that he is dead?" asked Kenra.

"Because he would not just leave me," frowned Jared. "His biggest fear was that someone would hurt me. There is no other reason for him not returning. He was murdered."

"Did he send you to the village frequently?" asked Kenra.

"Maybe once a week," nodded Jared. "I would bring things for him to repair, and the villagers would give us fruits and vegetables in return. They were very friendly to me."

"Did your father ever go to the village?" inquired the Salacian.

"No," Jared shook his head. "He never went where other people might be. It was not safe. The people hunters would learn of it, and we would have to run again. No one seemed to question me when I went to the villages, so that was my task to do."

"That makes sense," nodded Kenra. "Can you remember the days just before the one when you left for the village that last time? Was there anything different about them? Did your father act differently?"

Jared stared off into space for several moments before answering. "He acted tired," Jared eventually answered. "I don't mean the kind of tired that you face from too little sleep, but rather the sort of tired one gets from working on something for a long time and making no progress with it. Why does this matter?"

"It matters," assured the Salacian. "Continue."

"I don't know anything else," sighed Jared. "There was something else strange," the lad offered after a moment of silence. "I found him staring at me strangely quite a few times during those last days, and once I saw him crying. When he noticed me watching him cry, he rose and left the alcove. I think he was embarrassed because I had never known him to cry before. Neither of us ever mentioned it."

Kenra nodded thoughtfully and rose to his feet. He extended his hand to Jared and pulled the lad to his feet.

"Let's return to the others," Kenra said. "I think we will make camp in the clearing out there."

Jared nodded and led the way along the cliff face. He announced that they were making camp and everyone began their chores to prepare for the night, even though there were several hours of light yet available. Kenra pulled Gunnar aside and Horst came over to hear what was being said.

"What did you find?" asked Gunnar. "Is there any chance of tracking the killers after so much time?"

"I am not sure that the man is dead," replied Kenra.

"What do you mean?" Horst asked.

"From what the lad says," Kenra began, "no one else knew of the alcove. He clarified that by saying that his father would not use the campsite if anyone else knew of it. You told me that Jared left here last year to move to Salacia. Is that correct?"

"It is what he told me," nodded Gunnar.

"Well," continued Kenra, "that alcove floods every spring, yet someone has been camping there since the spring floods. In fact, someone slept there last night."

"Are you sure?" asked Horst.

"Positive," nodded Kenra. "There was still some minor warmth at the bottom of the fire pit. There had been no fire in hours, but most certainly one in the last day. Besides that, there are the leavings of a pipe smoker from recent days, and Jared confirmed that his father smoked a pipe."

"Why would the man chase his son away?" puzzled Gunnar. "It makes no sense whatsoever. Jared led me to believe that the man loved him."

"I believe it," Kenra agreed. "It sounded like their last days were stressful for the man. I suspect he made a decision that it would be better for the lad to leave him, but he did not really want to do it. He waited for Jared to make his weekly trip to the village and then fled."