her. She arranged the unconscious woman’s hands on her chest, stroked her hair a final time, and softly kissed her. Backlit by the setting sun through the trees, a lone tear fell from Amelia’s cheek to Jenny’s lips as she stood.
“Good-bye, Dark Jenny,” Amelia said softly.
Then Kern and I put the lid on the coffin.
I only used two big nails, enough to hold it in place. I didn’t want it to be airtight, and if I needed to open it, I’d bet it would be quickly.
Chattering birds settled into the trees for the evening. It would be full night soon. As I put the scabbard Spears gave me across my back, I said to Kern, “I haven’t asked because I hoped you’d offer, but I could use your help.”
“You’ve had my help.”
I climbed onto the wagon seat. “I mean at Nodlon. Come with me.”
He put up his hands. “No. I’m happy here. I’m staying here.”
“If Ted Medraft gets the crown-”
“He’ll never bother me.”
“How do you know?”
Kern smiled and waggled his eyebrows. “Because I’m Cameron the Wizard, and I know all.”
I smiled wryly. “If you’re so all-knowing, then what’s the shortest way to Nodlon from here?”
“I’ve got a map for you.” Kern handed me a rolled parchment. “This takes you back to the main road. You’ll come out just to the east of a little crossroads town called Astolat. After that it’s a straight shot.”
I took the reins and was about to snap them when Kern put his hand on my leg and motioned for me to lean down. It was hard to do with the scabbard holding my spine straight. He said quietly, “Because I’m so all-knowing, I’m going to give you some advice. If I were still at court, I’d call it a prophecy and use lots of bells and whistles to scare you shitless, but under the circumstances I’ll skip all that. Are you ready?”
I just looked at him, too tired for a snappy comeback.
He checked that Amelia was out of earshot. She stood in the cottage door, long arms wrapped around herself. Kern said quietly, “Remember I said you had a taste for violence? You need to keep in mind that every man you kill was once somebody’s little baby and had a mother who probably loved him. I’m not saying you shouldn’t kill people; some people do need killing. But you should never enjoy it, because if you do, you’ve killed part of yourself that won’t ever grow back. And I don’t think you’ve got many of those to spare.”
I still said nothing. He’d watched me kill Agravaine and seen the results of my discussion with Hoel, so I suppose he felt he understood me. Maybe he did.
He patted my stubbly cheek, then stepped aside. I snapped the reins, the wagon made a wide turn around the clearing, and we headed back to Nodlon.
TWENTY-SEVEN
The route led across farm country, along roads and trails most used at harvest time. Since that was several weeks away, they were overgrown and in need of repair; it was rough going. I couldn’t believe the constant jostling didn’t wake Jenny, but apparently Kern’s “magic” was as good as he said. I deliberately put his “prophecy” out of my mind.
The weather also didn’t cooperate as it had the night before. It was cloudy and therefore much darker, especially when we passed beneath the trees. I wondered if it would’ve been faster to go back the way I’d come; then I wondered if Kern sent us this way because it was. This wasn’t paranoia; by then I was sure no one on Grand Bruan did anything for the obvious or stated reasons.
As Kern promised, though, we came out just to the east of Astolat and turned west toward it, and Nodlon beyond.
Before that, though, I stopped and checked the coffin. Jenny had not moved, although the ride had disheveled her a bit. I straightened her clothes, rearranged her hair, and replaced the lid. I wondered if she was somehow aware of my presence, so I was careful not to touch anything untoward. The memory of that one kiss, whatever its real purpose, remained vivid. Too vivid.
An orange glow illuminated the clouds past Astolat, the distinctive reflection from a large fire. It was too close to be Nodlon Castle, and too far away to be the town. I didn’t recall anything in between big enough to make so large a blaze. But, since I was headed toward it anyway, it seemed useless to waste time pondering it. I’d find out soon enough.
Astolat was eerily quiet and still. No light showed in any windows, and none of the chimneys produced any smoke. A dog or wolf ran silently across the road without looking in my direction; it was the only sign of life. Granted it was the middle of the night, but usually there’d be something, such as a crying baby or a couple fighting. There was nothing.
This was extremely creepy. I didn’t speed the horses, but I drew the sword from my back and put it on the seat beside me. The empty scabbard was flexible enough I could finally slump a bit, although I was so tense I didn’t.
I passed the Crack’d Mirror, where I’d encountered Ted Medraft; its door stood open, and inside was solid darkness. No hearth fire or lamp glowed anywhere. I’d never known a tavern to close and leave its door unlocked. Something had happened here and either left no trace or the traces were hidden by the night.
As soon as we left town the road became a shambles of broken and missing stones. It hadn’t been like this yesterday, so something massive must’ve come through. I recalled the size of the dust cloud I’d seen to the north; it looked as if this was where the troops turned west, straight toward Nodlon just as I’d feared.
I kept the horses moving as fast as they would; on the broken stones, the wagon rattled so hard I feared my eyes might shake loose. Luckily the horses were in as big a hurry to leave the ghost town as I was.
The trees closed in over the road. They had tall, straight trunks so that when everything lined up, you could see quite a way through the forest. Through the trees, on the far side of the woods, I saw several distant fires; the glow on the clouds wasn’t from one big blaze, but from a scattering of smaller ones. They were too large for hearth blazes, but it was past midsummer and not yet first harvest. What would people be celebrating with bonfires?
I got my first hint of what had happened when the horses, growing progressively more nervous, finally stopped in the middle of the road and stomped in place. Nothing I did or said convinced them to move. Their whinnies were loud in the silence, and I realized no insects were singing.
I grabbed my sword when I spotted the large, dark shape on the road ahead. I watched it long enough to be reasonably sure it wasn’t moving. I got down from the wagon and approached. It was a dead horse and, still halfway in the saddle, its equally deceased rider. In the orange half-light I counted four arrows stuck in his torso and a half dozen more in the horse.
I knelt to look over the victim. His clothes marked him as a farmer, and his face showed him to be barely out of boyhood. I pulled an arrow from the horse and studied it as much as the light allowed. It wasn’t expensive or fancy but simple, utilitarian, and lethal.
Ten arrows is a good-size volley, which spoke of an awful lot of archers. I knew at once who had done this: the kind of soldiers who get paid to fight whoever they’re told is their enemy that day, and who think nothing about leaving a trail of dead civilians for no good reason except fun. Mercenaries, as I’d once been.
I recalled Ted Medraft’s presence in Astolat just before the troops from the north arrived. It was clear who put the gold in their pockets. Hoel had told me the truth.
I saw three more fires through the forest. They made sense now: farms or homesteads, looted and burned by men who had no one to fight. Medraft left a scorched trail reflected in the lowering clouds all the way to Nodlon.
There was no question of moving the dead horse, so I led the wagon team around it, giving as much leeway as I could. Then I climbed back on the seat and urged the horses on as fast as my rattling bones could stand it. I envied Jenny her oblivion.
As I got closer to Nodlon, I passed more burning farmhouses and bodies in the road. I’d been wrong: this wasn’t just professional killers blowing off steam, it was a battle tactic designed to terrify the civilian population
