enthusiastic over several of the splendid pieces they had, but then he was hustled out-no sense in making a hasty purchase, or so his “friends” recommended. They promised to meet him again the next day, and they would return to the warehouse to make final decisions-by which time, Gord knew, cheap duplicates would be ready to pack in boxes.
But there was no waiting till the morrow. That night Gord entered the shop from the roof, aided by several of his new gypsy friends. He regretted having to kill a guard, but that was part of the business…. Gord stayed out of Caporna altogether after that night, and he appeared only as a Rhennee man when he went anywhere beyond the gypsies’ camp.
The gypsy train that left at the end of the great fair held far more wealth in its wagons than anyone would have expected, and Gord-the one the acrobats had to thank for this new affluence-rode along as their leader’s right-hand man.
Chapter 13
As the horseman’s steed topped a low rise and galloped into a clearing bathed in moonlight, several quarrels buzzed and hummed past mount and rider. The man crouched lower, and his horse seemed to jump ahead with a burst of new speed. In seconds they were lost in the thick shadows of the trees beyond. A dozen steel-capped warriors followed the fleeing rider through the moonlit meadow and likewise disappeared in the darkness beyond.
Then the pounding of hooves faded into the night, and the place was peaceful again. Insects resumed their chorus, and the rustling of small animals making their nocturnal rounds could be heard by a careful listener. Nearby, a giant owl voiced its deep, mournful hooting. A moment later, the shrill cry of captured prey split the serenity for an instant.
Fortunately for Gord, he was not being hunted by such sure predators as the denizens of the forest were, and he managed to elude his pursuers in the dense woodlands. Both he and his stallion were very tired, but Gord knew they must press on through most of the night, so that when the sun rose, those tracking him would not find their quarry nearby. Dismounted, careful to be as silent as possible, the young outlaw led his steed southwest, going ever deeper into the heart of the Nutherwood.
Utilizing rocky ground, a small rivulet that fed into the Yol to the north, and every other device he could think of to throw off the soldiers who dogged him, Gord plodded onward. Sometime after midnight, he finally came to a dingle where he decided to camp. The stallion fell to grazing immediately as Gord unsaddled the tired animal and flopped down himself, exhausted. He dozed until first light and then was up and moving again.
Gord walked the horse until they found a place to drink. There, he refreshed himself with a quick splash, ate a handful of iron rations, and topped his breakfast off with a bunch of the peppery watercress that grew in the stream. Feeling far better, he mounted and urged the stallion into a trot. Perhaps today he would finally lose his pursuers permanently.
The troop of soldiers chasing him were servants of His Faithfulness, the Canon of Redmod, a town of no particular note near the heartland of the Theocracy of the Pale. When Gord had left Redmod, he had wanted simply to put as much distance between that place and himself as his courser could manage. He had not dreamed that the Canon would send his minions on so long a chase, for it was now nearly two weeks since his departure, and the soldiers were hounding him still. Gord wondered if their doggedness was because of the golden reliquary he had taken from the cleric’s temple, or whether it was because of his familiarity with His Faithfulness’ daughter, Light- she had shown him a few things, all right. No matter either way. Whatever their motivation, the outcome would be the same if he were caught by the troop of avenging riders.
As he rode, Gord recalled the events of the past few months. From the Great Bend area, the gypsies had taken their horses southward. The train had passed slowly through County Urnst during the month of Harvester, celebrated Brewfest at Trigot, and then crossed the Franz River just above the city of Galesford. Autumn was spent moving on southward again through the Kingdom of Nyrond, past Woodwych, to the land between the Duntide River and the Celadon Forest where they wintered near the town of Beetu. During this whole time, Gord had been given intensive training in the art of acrobatics, and soon he was tumbling, leaping, vaulting, and even walking the taut- rope with the best of the apprentices. Of course, during this same period he was in turn teaching his adopted family members the fine points of his own crafts. While the wagonfolk were as able as their water-loving kin in performing minor pilferage and thievery, Gord was instructing them on a far higher level, and they were apt pupils.
With the end of Fireseek’s chill, the wagons began rolling northward again, making for the Flinty Hills, far distant, before going on to Midmeadow for Growfest, from there to be bound for the annual fair at Radigast City. It was at Mid-meadow that Gord parted company with the train, but not with all of his Rhennee friends. Two adventuresome young Rhennee accompanied him on a foray into the Theocracy, the threesome bent on relieving the prosperous Palish of some of their material treasures.
The adventure had begun well enough. Equipped as they were with the finest mounts from the gypsy herd, the three were soon far away from Midmeadow and well into the Pale. Here they robbed an incautious merchant traveling a back road, there a wealthy tradesman. In the towns, they used more subtle arts to relieve their victims of excess coinage, and in such places Gord and his fellows also utilized their acrobatic skills to perform daring feats of burglary. The Palish were not, however, much impressed with such applications of the profession of thievery, holding the activity in disrepute and giving no license to any association or guild that allowed such practice. Therefore, the trio stayed but a little time in any one place.
The blending of the races here, Oeridian and Flan, with a bit of blond Suel cropping up here and there, made the Palish a robust and handsome folk. Although their bent was such that they tended toward propriety and soberness, and tenaciously adhered to the teachings of Pholtus, the Palish did have their moments of levity and celebration, too. They were intelligent, industrious, and tough. All told, Gord found them interesting, if a bit dull, but they were also quite prosperous and tended to be easy marks, for there were few thieves among them. Stealing was punishable by death. Then again, so were most other honorable pastimes-such as seduction.
The threesome spent a few days in the town of Ogburg-a city, actually, for it had well over 10,000 inhabitants, although it was an unsophisticated place at best. They then put the peaks of the Rakers behind them and rode north and west along the road to Wintershiven, for their purses were full for the moment. The capital city of the Theocracy was too sober a place, however, and from there the three had traveled southward again, ending up in Redmod. There Gord and his two companions settled down for rest, relaxation, and whatever revelry they could find.
Despite the veil of devoted service they wore, the local populace was ready enough for surreptitious activities of the frivolous and licentious sort, as the small but active bawdy district soon demonstrated to the newcomers. Wild young men with silver to spend were welcome indeed, and soon the three of them were minor celebrities. The lionization did go to their heads a bit, Gord admitted to himself in reflection, so that they became incautious in their talk. While they did not actually tell anyone that they planned to rob the temple, they did plenty of bragging about how rich they soon would be. What transpired after they broke into the strongroom of the place and made off with the treasury that the Canon had so rigorously extorted from the faithful was not surprising, reflected Gord, considering their carelessness.
Beautiful Light had been the key to the success of the heist, of course, and Gord thought that her fury at being left behind when they made off with the loot was probably the major spur to the pursuit, which even now continued. He had promised to take the Canon’s daughter along when they left Redmod, and so she had told Gord all about the location of the treasure, and about the magical protections that warded the amassed contributions, which, once pilfered, would enable them to journey elsewhere in high style.
How could she really have thought that three hard-riding thieves could carry along a soft female? Her presence would have made their capture certain within a day or two, for someone other than she could have described the trio to the angry Canon and his men-at-arms, and they would be as conspicuous as could be if they tried to travel with a female.
Gord was certain that Light had described him as completely as anyone could have, and that spurred him on. He had no means of disguise at hand, so his only recourse was to get clear of the Pale as rapidly as possible. This he had been seeking to do for days now, but the cursed soldiers trailing him made it difficult indeed!
