live in the forest, for that I cannot answer. Let it simply suffice to say that I was in the forest, and that I had the sword. As to why I happen to be who I am, I can only think that there is some purpose for me to serve that I do not yet understand.”
Willard hesitated, then went on faintly, “I feel as though I have something to do, a very important something; something that I do not wish to do, but that I have no choice in; something that I wish was over that I might do what it is that I wish to do, without being under the tyranny of fate.”
“Perhaps it is only yourself which forces you to these thoughts,” said the black Fardy. “Perhaps it is your thoughts that lead you to your fate, and not fate that begets your thoughts? Can the future be stronger than the past?”
“Neither defeats the other,” Willard answered, “Instead they crash together about us, and from the ensuing chaos comes that veritable time which we call the present. The past and the future fight for the right to oppress us, yet only we can decide the victor. That is our curse.”
With that, the two groups split. Night was now fully upon them, and, setting a guard, they went to sleep in their various places around the camp. Alfonzo was the first to wake, though the dawn was yet far away, and he took the watch from Osbert who had come in late from his trek.
“How are the tidings?” Alfonzo asked him.
“They have gone to the southwest, maybe to Eden,” was the answer.
“Were you seen?”
“I think not, though you can never be sure with Montague’s guile.”
“That is certainly so. You have done well, Osbert, and I count myself blessed to have such a faithful follower in these times of unrest.”
“Not hardly as blessed as I to have a wise and just leader.”
“Tell me,” the leader said in a low whisper, glancing around him to the rest of the party, “What news do you have of the spy?”
Osbert sighed silently, reluctant to condemn his fellow rangers on circumstantial evidence and word of mouth. “I thought I saw Casper when I followed Montague, after he had taken the Fardy brothers. There was a shrouded figure walking with them, showing them the way, but he dashed off before I could be sure. Then, when I returned to the caverns, I saw that his boots had been newly muddied. I asked him, and he said he had been asleep. There are other explanations – but I can only tell you what I know.” Osbert dropped his head, ashamed for his friend Casper.
“Do not be afraid Osbert, many have fallen away before, and more will yet leave us. Traveling the great forest, protecting loyal travelers from the thugs of Gylain, taking from the oppressors and returning to the oppressed – it is not an easy life. Every moment is filled with danger, and there are some who cannot handle it. Even de Garcia, the great warrior of my youth, fell into the snares of Gylain. Be strong, therefore, and persevere.”
“Yes, Alfonzo, my only fear is that I put false charges on an innocent name.”
“I will keep Casper with me, under close watch. You have only done your duty. Come, what else is there?”
“I found a note from Blaine at the message post, in the sixth quadrant of the Treeway.”
“Let us see it.”
Osbert handed Alfonzo a carefully folded piece of paper, and the latter opened and read it to himself.
Alfonzo, I hope that you receive this before it is too late. I know your orders, and will not turn back to consult you, instead putting my worries to paper. I’ve tested the men with me and they are loyal, though I cannot say how in this letter. When next we meet, I will tell. Until then, know that the traitor is with you or Milada, and not with me. There is news that the Queen of Saxony is arriving within a few days, so we must be extra vigilant of action against us. Also, the news from Hibernia is that Patrick McConnell is imprisoned. These things do not affect Atilta directly, yet our companions across the sea are treated ill. May it not be passed on to us. For now, though, all is well at the eye of the storm, and at the Great Goliaths. ? Signed, Blaine.
Alfonzo finished the letter and looked to Osbert. “The news is good, then – at least, better than I anticipated. He has tested the men, and they are loyal. I know not how, yet he says they are true to the cause.”
“To me that news is less than good.”
“How so, Osbert?”
“It means the traitors are among us, and it makes my heart as cold as the earth from whence it came, to think any of my comrades would do such a thing.”
“Yes, our feelings are the same, but we must put ourselves beyond our feelings, when dealing with matters that are beyond ourselves.”
“And the freedom of Atilta is at stake here.”
“Exactly,” replied Alfonzo, “You must sleep now. We leave early.”
“Goodnight,” and with that Osbert, the trusty ranger of the forest, went off to catch his rest.
For the rest of the night Alfonzo sat motionless on guard. His tall figure was stony and reserved, as always. His long, bound hair gave him an ancient look, like a statue from the past. His goatee had not been trimmed in many days, though the rest of his face was kept clean, and his mustache was beginning to droop in an arch over his mouth. His eyes burned, flaming with memories, mostly of the crown prince, his youthful friend and protege; and of his love, Celestine. Then, when these thoughts passed through him, his eyes went from flames to mirrors. Injustice was his only enemy, the one who manifested it merely his enemy’s form. He had no hatred of Gylain or of Jonathan Montague, or any of the others – merely of their actions. And why should he, for those who were pardoned from above would never be judged, and those who were not were already condemned.
“Patience, Alfonzo,” he murmured to himself, “Justice will prevail. And if it does not, than life will not live to know of it.”
Chapter 11
The dawn was slowly passing and the warmth of day replacing it with every step it took in retreat. The party congregated around the camp, and there was no sign of commotion or disturbance, for Montague had entirely disappeared the previous day. The sun shone down at just the right angle that it streamed in over the tops of the trees like a divine spotlight, slivering down and squirming with the mist that rose up through it. There was a slight breeze, warm to the touch, and the air was thick and pure, full of life.
The walls of the camp had been partly disassembled and used for firewood, for all that needed to be defended against was the morning chill. The trunk that was laid out against the stream still rested there, along with a few of the rangers and a robin that sang to them in exchange for food, a forest minstrel. Several more of Alfonzo’s followers were sprawled out in the center of the clearing, laying in a bed of buttercups and bell hoppers: an orange and yellow flower that had the shape of a bell and smelled strongly of apples. The
The rest of the group sat around the campfire, which was starting to fall asleep just as the men were fully waking up. Willard and Horatio were next to one another, talking with signs about the Fardy brothers. Willard explained that they were not wholly insane, just mostly so, while Horatio gave the brother nearest him a questioning look every now and then. Upon receiving it, the brother would return it with an upraised eyebrow and an open mouth. Horatio would then pretend to be looking beyond him, at something in the forest, squinting and moving his head back and forth as though he could just barely make the thing out, until he finally gave up and turned back to Willard, forsaking the thing which wasn’t there to begin with.
Vahan Lee sat beside Willard, listening to the talk of the others and keeping his own to himself. He was an interesting character, to say the least, for he spoke with a heavy French accent, and was dressed according to the French fashions of the day. Yet he claimed to be a loyal Atiltian. Indeed, he stressed this loyalty to the point of obsession. But his features were fair, and his eyes told of simplicity over duplicity. He was not threatening, but amusing, with his portly figure, and his facial expressions which were vividly humorous: at once confident and frightened. His purposes were evidently on the side of freedom, but they were also mysterious. It was this that caused Alfonzo to take him prisoner, for Vahan seemed a strange little man. He took him to ascertain what his intentions were, and, so far, they were proving good.
Meanwhile, the Fardy brothers sat beside Alfonzo and Osbert. The Fardy brothers were known to be at times overly serious, at others overly whimsical, at others overly angry, and at others overly proud of their humility. They
