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    Chapter 55


    A Man on the Road


    Megarstown was a medium-sized town on the road to Urundock—meaning that it had about two dozen stone buildings and twice that in shacks and timber houses. This was Rowan’s third time passing through it in the past few days. First, with Tan and Daegan, heading north. Then on his own returning south, and now he was back heading north again.


    His horse was exhausted. He was exhausted. He’d made good progress on the road over the two days since riding out of Crossroads. He’d pressed hard through the night, sleeping in his saddle. Only stopping briefly to allow respite for his dedicated and resilient horse. He felt a pang of guilt knowing that he would need to trade him today in order to continue the journey. Horses simply couldn’t maintain that kind of distance for days and Red had given him more than he could have ever asked of the beast.


    He approached the same inn he’d stayed in with Daegan and Tan a little over a week ago. He wouldn’t be staying the full night, but even a few hours sleep in a real bed would give him a bright boost before hitting the road again. The innkeeper recognised him and asked about his companions. He told them he was temporarily separated from them and that he’d be catching back up with them soon.


    Rowan inquired about a reputable horse trader in town so that he could switch his horse with a rested one.


    “Jared’s the man you’re looking for. Busy man this week. You’re the second lad in two days asking for a trade.” Rowan didn’t need to guess who the other man was so he said nothing.


    “Foreign fellow, didn’t look so different to your mate, either, where was he from again?”


    “Not sure,” Rowan replied, “don’t know him all that long. This horse trader, he’s trustworthy? I like my horse. I’d want assurances that he’ll give me a few weeks to reclaim it before trading on.”


    “Aye, yeah,” the innkeeper answered, “he’s me brother-in-law. Most honest man this side of Nortara. He’ll charge you a few extra coppers for the trouble but he’ll give you six weeks at least.”


    “Good,” Rowan said. He believed the man, horse traders in towns like these depended heavily on their reputation with travellers—as did the inns.


    “That man yesterday,” the innkeeper jumped back to the topic. He was clearly fishing for a bit of gossip. “He was looking for his kinsman, looked like he’d been riding hard, like yourself. Is that your mate he’s looking for?” Rowan fixed him with a levelled stare. This man was sharp enough to see the connection and Rowan didn’t want to bring any more trouble down on Daegan and Tan.


    “I’d appreciate it if you kept quiet on this,” Rowan said and slid a silver mark across the bar with his finger. It wasn’t a particularly high bribe, worth maybe two or three weeks'' stay at the inn. “I’ll be back in a few weeks to collect my horse,” Rowan continued with the slightest edge of warning, “I’ll have a lot more of this if no one else follows us.” Rowan tapped the silver mark.


    Wisely, the innkeeper nodded and pocketed the coin, flashing Rowan a pleasant grin. Rowan felt it was a particular talent of his being able to read innkeepers. This type liked to have rapport with his customers. He liked to buy and sell information and tried to gleam as much as he could for free. A lot of innkeepers did the same, it was an easy way to wrangle a few extra coins. Rowan had made efforts during his travels with Daegan and Tan to keep the innkeepers happy, build good relationship with them and make them less likely to sell them out to anyone who came asking about them. It was one of the things that Tan often overlooked. Tan had insisted on keeping low profiles but what he didn’t understand is that by trying to be discreet only made you more mysterious. And mysterious folk often drew the attention of people in small towns like these.


    Rowan retired to a room to sleep a few hours. He was never the kind of man to lie awake worrying in a bed so as soon as his head touched the pillow he was out. Years of soldiering and working as a contract knight had taught him to welcome sleep wherever he could find it.


    He awoke a few hours later and glanced out the window. The sun had set and Luna’s reddish moonlight was breaking through the clouds. A blizzard was apparently on its way south from Nortara. Rowan hoped that Tan and Daegan had managed to cross the sheet before that blizzard came in. He pulled on his chainmail shirt and clipped on his green cloak.


    His intent was still to catch Ferath on the road before the man reached Urundock. There was too much risk that Daegan hadn’t yet crossed Nortara. Rowan still wasn’t sure what he’d do when he did catch up to the Ferath. Tan had claimed the assassin was a far superior runewielder to either of them and the story he’d been told of what Ferath had done the night of the attempted assination had sounded impossible.


    Tan should have been upfront with him from the beginning with how dangerous Ferath was. It did bother him that his brother hadn’t trusted him with the full extent of what was going on. A part of him had simply been happy that Tan had wanted him to come along. That his little brother still needed him. He still should have told me what was following us. They could have strategised a potential battle plan for facing the man. Rowan will just have to wing it when he did eventually catch up to the man.


    He’d had to trade Red before. He was always happy to pay an extra few marks for a latency period to give Rowan first right for the chance to trade back. Most reputable horse traders were happy enough to oblige. Having done it before didn’t make the transaction any easier. Leaving Red behind always left him with a horrible sense of guilt. The beast’s eyes watched him in confusion as he trotted away on another horse. Jared the horse trader said his new horse’s name was Millie, she was a fine horse and she would do for the rest of the ride. If he pushed her he didn’t doubt he’d make it to Urundock in under three days.


    He came out onto the main street of Megarstown and had been about to pull on Millie’s reins to head north when he spotted a group of five travellers arriving from the south. They immediately pulled Rowan’s attention.


    They were all Reldoni.


    Two women and three men, each of them riding tired-looking horses. This group has also been pressing hard. Rowan understood that coincidences happen but he was no fool. He turned Millie towards the group and approached them. He could sense all of their edirs as he approached. His eyes flicked to two of the men whose edirs’ made him think of Ferath’s. Their edirs flared erratically in pulses. Both were young men and were clumsily attempting to restrain their edirs as if they were novices. At that age they should have much better control of those. The woman leading them had immaculate control of her edir. She had a stiff posture and the bearing of a soldier. Rowan didn’t doubt she was one of the Reldoni warrior women that Daegan had told him about.


    Rowan greeted the woman with a welcoming smile and introduced himself as Lenn Wolfhound. The woman didn’t give her name but greeted him cordially in response.


    “You folk look like you’re heading north,” Rowan said, looking them over, “you need a guide? I’m on a job for the next few days but I''ll be back.” Rowan wasn’t a particularly good liar, but escort jobs were his bread and butter. It wasn’t hard to simply pretend like this group was another potential contract.


    “We are indeed heading north,” the woman replied in an accent that matched Daegan’s, “but we can’t wait around, we’ll be leaving tomorrow.”


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    “Where are you headed?” This was what he really wanted to know. The woman glanced at her companions and deliberated internally for a moment before answering him.


    “Not sure,” she said coyly, “we’re on the trail of one of our countrymen who we’re trying to catch up to.” Rowan felt his blood pumping in his neck and he resisted the urge to clench his jaw.


    “This have anything to do with that murdered Prince in Rubastre?” Rowan asked pointedly. The woman’s eyes flared but she recovered quickly. “Rumours have been coming this way the past few days,” Rowan continued, “the whole town’s been talking about it.” This much was true, Rowan himself had heard the rumours for himself in this very town when he’d passed through with Daegan. He’d wanted to see her reaction to the mention of him and could confirm now without doubt that they were somehow involved.


    “Our business is our own,” she replied through tight lips.


    “Well if you can describe the man you’re after I might be able to help.” There was always the chance that they were actually tailing Ferath and not Daegan. Surely, Daegan’s family would have sent a party to find Ferath and bring him to justice.


    Rowan noticed one of the younger men—a strikingly handsome man—with one of wild edirs. He was sweating despite the chill. Looks like the topaz flush of an amatuer runewielder. Folk new to runewielding often didn''t have enough control of their edir to prevent drawing in too much heat.


    “You alright lad?” Rowan asked. The Reldoni youth shrugged in response.


    “He’s one of our kinsmen,” the woman said finally answering his question, “have you seen another Reldoni pass through here lately?”


    “Maybe. What set you on this route?” If he could figure out how they ended up here it might help determine if they’re potential allies or not.


    “We have contacts that informed us that our comrade is headed this way.” A frustratingly vague answer.


    “What’s he after do you know?”


    “You’re asking a lot of questions,” she replied, her eyes narrowing.


    “Just looking to help,” Rowan said, raising his hands in a disarming gesture and backing down, “listen, you need a guide or no?” Maybe he’d pushed a little too far. She was already suspicious of him so it’s better if he disengaged. He’d gathered enough information.


    “We believe our comrade is heading for a place called Urundock,” the woman said, “do you know a faster route to there or shall we stay on the main road?”


    Rowan couldn’t shake the mounting suspicion that this group was indeed working with Ferath, rather than against him. There was still the chance however they were reinforcements sent to retrieve Daegan and take him home. Surely the Archduke would have sent word of the mission to Daegan’s family in Reldon? But Rowan couldn’t take that risk. He and Tanlor might be able to take on Ferath alone, but not this entire group. Not if they’re all like him. He glanced at the sweaty youth, again noting the erratic behaviour of the man’s edir.


    “There’s a forest trail,” Rowan said, as casually as he could manage, “the road north brings you to a bridge but the path through the forest meanders, it can be easy to get turned around in those woods.” The woman nodded and pulled out a map of the area. The dotted line of the road clearly marked a direct route to Urundock.


    “Ah yes,” Rowan chuckled, “I’ve often seen this map and it’s wrong you see.” He ran his finger along to the west of the bridge below the treeline.


    “Follow the river east for about half a day and you’ll come upon another bridge that’s not marked here,” he lied, “cross there and there’s a path that cuts straight through the woods to Splitstone—” he traced finger through the area of woodland to the village marked as Splitstone and tapped it, “—Trust me, aye. Much better road that. You’ll make it in half the time, I promise you.”


    The woman rolled up the map and nodded her thanks and Rowan included his head in acknowledgement.


    “If, by chance, you’re still here when I return, it would be my pleasure to act as your guide,” Rowan said, driving home the act. The woman politely declined his offer again and the group made for the inn.


    Good, that little detour should set them back a day at least… more if they get lost in the woods. It was a gamble he knew, but better to opt for the safer option. And give Rowan, Tanlor and Daegan a little more time to disappear into the North. He grinned to himself and patted Millie’s neck.


    “Ok, girl, let’s see what you can do.”


    Further along the road Rowan approached the bridge where he and Tanlor had fought the deserters from Twin Garde. They’d left the bodies in their haste and when Rowan had passed back that way the following day they’d already been picked clean by bandits and thrown in the river. He didn’t linger at the bridge and continued on. He could see the dark clouds ahead. The blizzard was approaching. He didn’t particularly want to be caught out in it but it was more important that he pressed on rather than seek shelter. He had his topaz that he could draw on for heat if he needed. He hoped that Ferath would elect to wait out the storm so that Rowan could pass him but he couldn’t count on that.


    As he neared the woods, Rowan spotted the remnants of a battle. More like a massacre. The bodies of over a dozen bandits lay strewn about the road. They were fresh, the blood mixing with the muddy path. One of the bandit’s bodies was half submerged into the earth, buried below the torso. His upper half slumped and his head was missing. What in the hells? The bandit looked like he’d sunk into the earth. Many of the bodies had thin lengths of stone the size of spears protruding from them. A few appeared to have been cut down with a sword.


    Rowan’s mind moved with horror as he realised this was the work of a master stonebreaker. Could one man have really done this?! He’d fought alongside—and against—master stonebreakers during his career and none of them could have taken over a dozen bandits single-handedly. A part of him refused to accept that one man could have done this but then recalled the strength of Ferath’s edir. How it flared and recoiled wildly over impossible distances. He’s not a man… he’s a demon. There were stories of rakmen and shamans from the Black Sands with powers that defied all laws of runwielding, but those were just stories.


    One of the bandits was propped up on his knees, a blond man with a warrior’s braid. He had been impaled with one of the rock spears, his weight slumped against it. A dented greatsword with flecks of rust on the blade lay dropped beside him. The man was certainly dead but Rowan checked him all the same. None of the bandits were left alive. Apart from the blond man, none of them looked like they were trained fighters. They likely relied on intimidation of numbers rather than actual fighting skills.


    Rowan noted a few bows amongst the fallen, near the treeline. The bandits had likely barred the road to accost Ferath. A lone traveller was an easy target and faced against this many, even a highly skilled warrior would take the wiser choice and surrender. The bowmen would have been hidden in trees and emerged once the bandits on the road had threatened the man. The sight of the additional men would frighten and coerce most men out of resisting. They were wrong. And it gave their positions away.


    He must’ve been quick. Six bowmen were impaled with the rock spears. He would have had to conjure each of them simultaneously and strike. He would’ve then drawn his sword and taken the bandits closer to him. These ones here on the road. They had deep cuts on the shoulders and neck. Well placed strikes from horseback.


    The man sunken into the ground was further up, a crossbow lay next to him. Would Ferath have been able to trap him in the earth like that whilst fighting the others? No human man could have that kind of concentration. And then finally the blond man—likely the leader—had attempted to flee. His men being cut down so efficiently before him, he would have a strong enough sense of self-preservation to know when to run. And a final rock spear took him in the back and wedged him into the ground, pinning him to that kneeling position.


    An effective swordsman that relies heavily on his enhanced stonebreaker abilities. Rowan would need to separate him from his eradite to have any hope of taking the man in a direct fight. That or face him in an environment that didn’t suit stonebreaking. Ferath would have stored material as any trained stonebreaker would, but it was limited. But then again, the demon regularly goes past the limits of a typical runewielder.


    He looked again at the blond man, blood congealing into the dirt around him. There was a twist in his stomach as the thought of Tan having to face this monster alone came to his mind.


    Rowan swung back into Millie’s saddle and kicked in his heels, whipping the reins.


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