Birlerion leapt off the back of his horse as he reached the bodies in the road. There was no sign of the Captain, but he hadn’t necessarily expected him to linger. He knelt by the body of one of the archers; shaking his head, he moved from one body to the next. They hadn’t stood a chance. They were unkempt bandits, paid thugs; even their weapons were poorly made. He instructed the men to load the bodies onto the cart and take them back to the keep. Another he sent to lead the horses.
“Sir, we’re a horse short,” the man said. “There are nine bodies; we’ve got eight horses.”
“More like we’re two horses short,” Birlerion corrected. “Captain Haven would have followed if anyone escaped. See if you can find any tracks; at least we’ll know which direction they went.”
“Sir,” one of the soldiers loading the cart called out. “This one is still alive, looks like he was knocked out.”
Birlerion strode over. “Good, at least Haven left us a witness. Keep an eye on him; make sure he stays alive. The Warden will want to speak to that one.”
“Sir, tracks are leading off to the west, towards Deepwater,” called the soldier leading the horses. He scowled. “And none of these horses are in good condition. They’ve been run into the ground.”
“What a surprise,” Birlerion murmured to himself. He watched the men swing the last body on the cart. He couldn’t achieve anything further here. “Return to the keep and inform Lord Jason what we found. Tell him that I’ve gone to help Captain Haven.”
The guards nodded, watching the tall silver-eyed officer with some trepidation as he rode off. They didn’t know who he was, but there was an aura of command about him, and no man was prepared to gainsay him. They shrugged at each other and turned back to the keep.
Birlerion followed the tracks westwards easily enough. The ground was still soft from all the rain, and the horses ahead of him had been moving as fast as their poor condition allowed. The tracks headed straight for Deepwater.
Reining his horse in at the top of a bluff, he looked down at the landscape spread before him; this was a rich land, fertile fields edged by mature timber forests. It looked like they were doing some felling on the West Bank; a number of the ancient trees were down, leaving an unsightly gash in the timberline. In the distance, the first of the three large lakes that gave Deepwater its name gleamed on the horizon.
Taking a deep breath of fresh air, he considered what to do. The Lady expected him to protect the Captain. Though the Captain didn’t make it easy, much like Guerlaire for that matter. He would have followed the bandit and would be nearing Deepwater by now. The Captain would not be amused if he blundered in behind him; best to leave him to it. From what he had heard, the Captain was better at the sneaky stuff.
He’d wait for him at the ambush site. He wanted to take another look at the strike zone, something had been niggling him from earlier, and he wanted to check it out. Turning west, he followed the trail dropping down until it met the big East Road. He grinned as he found the road; his innate sense of direction was working. He would make better time now and could skirt south of the big lakes.
It was approaching midday by the time he reached the ambush site. He paused and inspected the scene. Bryce’s men had begun moving the bodies. They had erected an awning to keep the sun off the mass of bodies piled around Lord Hugh. Soldiers stripped to the waist were busy digging a trench, for the bandits no doubt.
Birlerion watched the work progress. This field was not directly on Hugh’s path; it couldn’t be seen from the road at all. So, how had Lord Hugh been persuaded off the road in the first place? They had only diverted because of Taelia; she had directed them to the battle.
Birlerion looped his horse’s reins around the picket line and asked the lad tending the horses to give him some water. He walked up to join the wiry soldier commanding the activities. “Captain.” He saluted. “Birlerion, Captain Haven’s guard.”
Bryce returned the salute. “Bryce, Stoneford. Birlerion, what brings you here?”
“Captain Haven and I were ambushed this morning on the way to the keep. Just wanted to warn you, you might get some company from Deepwater.” As he spoke, Jennery entered the field and approached from the north, an appalled expression on his face as he surveyed the carnage. It was a dismal view.
“Deepwater? I was expecting support from Greenswatch. I sent a dispatch. This is a political nightmare. I have no jurisdiction here, I’m on Deepwater land, with the body of the Lord of the Greenswatch.” Bryce grimaced as if in pain. “And no explanation as to why I am here.”
Jennery dismounted. “You could say you were just passing. There is free travel on the roads,” he suggested brightly.
Bryce snorted.
“Or you could say that a survivor staggered into the keep asking for help, which is almost the truth,” Birlerion said, glaring at Jennery.
Bryce ran his hands through his brown hair and refocused on the scene in front of him. “The main concentration of the battle was around Lord Hugh; he was the target. There was a secondary focus area over to the east, but I can’t see the reason for it at the moment. There are carriage tracks off to the west. I’d say they absconded with the carriage and whoever was in it; he has a daughter, doesn’t he? Could have been her. I’ve sent a squad to track it and report back.”
He walked over to a line of bodies. “These are the bandits. They look like common ruffians to me, clothes and weapons are unkempt, looks like
