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    Chapter 42


    Unwelcome Guests


    They didn’t bother putting out the fire, the travellers were not far off and they would have already seen the smoke despite the rain. A large red-haired man with a warrior’s braid, and shaved sides approached first. Despite the similar characteristics in build, hair colour and style the man looked nothing like Rowan. The man had a thick neck and a jaw that could shape iron. He pulled up a few feet from their camp and called over, “we’re just four travellers, looking for shelter from the rain… Don’t want no trouble.”


    “Keep your weapons sheathed and there’ll be no trouble found here,” Rowan called back to him, Tanlor gave him a wary look but didn’t disagree. The man waved up to his companions on the bridge and then walked his horse into the camp, hitching him to the opposite side, followed shortly after by his companions


    “Name’s Owen—but most call me Ox,” the man said, offering his ham of a hand to Rowan. I bet they do. Rowan introduced himself and the others and invited Ox to join the fire.


    Within a few moments, the man’s three companions had hitched up their own horses and were airing out their cloaks, then hanging them on the loose bricks of the bridge foundations. All four of the men were completely sodden, making them seem almost sickly. Their faces were pallid and their hair slick against their brows.


    Geral was grey-haired and carried a longbow, seemed to be the same age as Ox which was somewhere in the forties. The other two were young, barely men and could have been their sons; Shye and Jax. All of them had warrior’s braids and carried weapons, a bit rusted and dented but still sharp enough to be a concern.


    Daegan could feel the tangible tension around the camp as they settled in and started cooking. They spoke small, curt pleasantries about the road. The newcomers had come down from Urundock. They’d heard about the raiders in Crossroads and upon hearing the Shrydan brother’s names, the other group visibly relaxed. Daegan took a swig from his whitewhiskey flask and felt the flush of heat filling him.


    The sun was setting and the rain hadn’t let up. It was looking increasingly likely that they would all be camping together under the bridge. Nobody had spoken more than a few words in over an hour and Daegan found himself growing incredibly bored with the additional campers and their lack of sociability.


    “Here,” Daegan said tossing his flask over to their side of the fire, “whitewhiskey… not the best but it’s strong.” The four of them nodded their thanks, and took swigs in varying measures. The younger lads’ face’s screwing up afterwards. Shye hacked and coughed and the others laughed.


    “So… how’s the road to Urundock?” Daegan asked in a friendly manner, hoping to get some kind of conversation going again with them.


    “Ah, is what it is,” Ox replied, he seemed to be the leader of the four, “what has ye lads on the way there?”


    “Work,” Tanlor replied, simply.


    “What about yourselves,” Rowan offered, “what has you on the road south?” The men all shared glances and it was Ox that spoke, “work,” he replied and took another swig from Daegan’s flask, not even a flinch out of him as he did so. Oh, so manly. Daegan had always found humour in the bizarre custom of Rubanian men, the less you reacted to a strong drink, the stronger you were apparently.


    “More work to be found for fighting men up in Urundock, I’d have thought,” Rowan probed, accepting the flask back and taking a small sip himself. Daegan noted tension in Rowan and Tanlor’s postures. Even though they were all sat casually around the fire, the two brothers had poised positions. Ox didn’t bother to deny that they were fighters, the warriors'' braids were evidence enough for that, if not the weapons. Daegan suspected that Rowan didn’t even drink from the flask. He wants to stay sober.


    “Grown sick of Urundock,” Ox replied.


    “Pisshole of a town,” Geral chimed in, “too many people.”


    “There’s more people, the further south you go,” Rowan noted, “past Nortara is where you want to go if it’s people you want to avoid.”


    “We’re not going back there,” Shye said, which earned him hard looks from Ox and Geral.


    “You lads come down from Twin Garde then?” Rowan said, putting up a front of being more relaxed but Daegan could tell that he was still on edge.


    “Aye,” Ox said, “finished our contract up there. Looking to head home for a while.”


    “Commander Sheeth still up there?” Rowan asked.


    “Aye,” Ox replied at the same time Geral said, “no.” They shared a look and Geral continued, “still up there, but he’s not Commander anymore… Got too old.”


    “Didn’t think Sheeth would ever hang up his sword,” Rowan said with a grin.


    “Didn’t have the choice,” Ox replied, “got wounded bad.”


    “It were the Rak that got ‘im,” Shye added, he seemed fidgety to Daegan, like he couldn’t stay still. “whole bunch of ‘em,” Jax agreed, nodding.


    The flask had made its way back to Daegan, he was shocked at how light it was. Barely anything left in it. He’d grown so used to travelling with Tanlor who didn’t drink at all and Rowan who only had a small bit before bedding down.


    He knocked back the last drops and opened his cloak to slip it back into his pocket but as he did so, the flask dislodged his coin pouch. It popped out of the pocket and dropped onto the grass with a heavy rattle, spilling out more than a handful of silver marks. Daegan’s heart leapt and he instinctively grabbed for it and shoved the coins back inside. In a few hurried seconds he had it all back inside his pocket. Stupid tiny pockets. He looked up at the others, Tanlor and Rowan were eying the others, their hands not far from their weapons. Jax and Shye’s eyes were wide and they gave uncertain looks to the older men, both of whom seemed disinterested in the coins.


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    “I thought you said that this Sheeth fellow was just wounded,” Daegan said looking to shift the conversation back, “but you’re saying now that the Rakmen killed him?”


    “Aye, Rak bowman got his leg,” Ox said, “but he got back with his life.” Well these men are the worst liars I’ve ever come across. He wasn’t sure why they were lying but he supposed that didn’t matter. If someone was lying, it usually meant they weren’t up to anything good.


    “Twin Garde is the outpost, correct?” Daegan asked, “apologies… I’m a cartographer you see. I’ll be mapping the area north of Nortara.”


    “My advice,” Ox warned, “map someplace else… Too many Rakmen these days up in the forests,” he turned to Rowan, “you’re friends of Sheeth?”


    “Met him a few times,” Rowan replied, “haven’t been up that way in about ten years though.”


    “Pretty different now, I’d wager,” Geral said.


    “Who’s in charge now?” Tanlor asked.


    “Hovis,” Ox said.


    “Krast,” Geral said and the two locked eyes. The tension around the fire was as palpable as the heat radiating from it.


    “Listen,” Rowan started slowly, “we don’t care if you’re deserters… I know that Twin Garde’s a rough hand to be dealt. If there’s been a mutiny up there… well, I can understand why you lads are running down here.” All of the men were slowly rising to their feet, eying each other.


    Jax and Geral had hungry looks in their eyes and Shye just looked worried—scared even. Oh shit… this isn’t going to end well. But Daegan had known that from the moment his coins had fallen from his pocket.


    “Why don’t we all just head our separate ways and pretend we didn’t see each other, eh?” Rowan offered. Ox’s face was impassive but the way his eyes flicked back and forth from Rowan to Daegan’s cloak pocket was as much a give-away as Geral and Jax’s eager expressions. Only Shye seemed to be uncomfortable, slightly backing up from the others.


    Daegan’s heart was pounding. Rowan’s hand was resting on his sword hilt so Daegan also placed his hand on his revolver holstered at his hip. Ox had a large axe leaning against the wall behind him, Geral and Jax had knives buckled to their belts.


    “Not much honest work for deserters,” Ox said, “and words going to start reaching soon that we killed Sheeth.”


    “That silver you’ve got will get us to Edas and we can take a ship,” Geral added.


    “Consider yourselves lucky we’re letting you leave with your lives,” Tanlor growled at them.


    “You don’t know what it’s like up there,” Geral spat, “Rakmen sightings almost every week. Was only going to be a matter of time ‘afore they took Twin Garde.”


    “—So you killed your commanding officer!”


    “Commander Sheeth was a fool, and we all would have died because of him,” Ox rumbled. At least he out of all of them seemed a little remorseful, “I don’t like this none,” he said, “but hand over the silver and we’ll be on our way and nobody needs to get hurt.”


    “You know that’s not going to happen,” Tanlor said.


    Then the campfire dimmed, its flames dwindling to embers and sending them all into darkness. In seconds, the camp erupted into commotion, and Daegan was thrown against his back as Tanlor dove at him, the man’s hand pushing hard against his chest and shoving him back from the fray. Tanlor’s greatsword sang as he unsheathed it and swept it out a protective perimeter around him and Daegan.


    Struggling back to his feet, Daegan didn’t see much in the darkness but the sounds of clashing steel and shouts were enough to know what was going on. He stumbled and slipped in the slick grass, pulling out his revolver.


    The eradite and salphedine worked into the barrel glowed dimly as he held it out in front of him. He couldn’t tell which of the moving black shapes were who so he held his fire. He could make out Ox’s two handed axe swinging and a shadowy form that must have been Rowan stepping close into his range and driving his sword into the man’s chest. Tanlor was engaged with both Geral and Jax, keeping them back with wide sweeps of his blade.


    Daegan immediately scanned for Shye, assuming that the boy was planning to sneak around the fighting to attack them from behind but then he spied the boy backed up against the wall, a panic-stricken look on his face.


    Daegan levelled his revolver at the boy, his finger trembled against the trigger. He gritted his teeth and then pointed it at Geral. He fired, it sounded like a crack of thunder. The bullet took Geral in the chest and he let out a shout dropping to his knee. Jax hesitated for just a second at the gunshot but it was all Tanlor needed, darting forward and cutting the youth across his chest.


    Tanlor didn’t waste any time and was moving toward the horrified Shye.


    “No!” Daegan roared at the same time he heard Rowan shouted, “Don’t!”


    There was a clash of steel as Rowan’s blade intercepted Tanlor’s attack. The two shadowy forms struggled against one another, and then Rowan kicked Tanlor back, “he’s just a boy!” he shouted and knocked Tanlor’s sword to the ground.


    “If we don’t kill him, he’ll come back and slit our throats in our sleep,” Tanlor accused.


    “We don’t know that!” Rowan defended. Shye hadn’t moved, his eyes still wide with shock, but Daegan kept his revolver aimed at him just in case he tried something while Rowan’s back was to the boy.


    “I won’t suffer this Rowan!” Tanlor growled, “we need to put him down.”


    “You know the way to Crossroads, Shye?” Rowan called over his shoulder, not taking his eyes of Tanlor


    “N-no, sir,” Shye stammered in response. Tanlor took a step towards his fallen sword but Rowan placed his boot on the blade. He turned his head to look at Shye, “Follow the river south towards Heronsbridge, then take the road east. You should make it to Crossroads in a few days.”


    The youth was edging along the stone wall away from them and towards where his companions'' horses were. Rowan continued his instruction, “go to the inn at Crossroads and ask for Mendy. Tell her Rowan sent you, she’ll have work for you. Honest work.” Daegan could make out the dark splatters of Ox’s blood on Rowan’s face.


    “You’ve got a second chance, lad,” Rowan said with a threatening edge to his voice, “don’t waste it. Go!” Shye didn’t hesitate, he leapt at Rowan’s word and ran for his horse. Hurriedly, he unhitched it and fled into the rain.


    “Damn it, Rowan!” Tanlor shouted, “what if there’s more deserters with them?! He could go back and tell them where we are.” Tanlor was furious, more angry than Daegan had ever seen him.


    “I don’t think that he will,” Rowan rebuked.


    “They’re not soldiers anymore, they’re outlaws now, Rowan!” Tanlor fumed, “they’ll all turn to raiding, you know they will!”


    “You can’t know that.”


    ”They’re not all like him!” Tanlor said through gritted teeth, “they’re murderers and they need to be put down.”


    “In another life that could have been us, Tan. Don’t forget that!”Rohan replied coldly.


    Tanlor’s face was a mask of fury. Daegan watched as the man reached down for his sword, his knuckles white as they gripped the hilt.


    They wouldn’t fight each other now, not over this. Daegan held his revolver cautiously at his side, just in case. He wasn’t even sure who he would even point it at. Tanlor looked over at Daegan, only now realising that he was there, listening. He scowled and stormed towards his horse and began, strapping up his saddle.


    “Pack up,” Tanlor shot at them, “we’re leaving, now!”


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