Daggerspell - Katharine Kerr [104]
Soon Dregydd called for the halt for the night’s camp. Where a stone wall marked out what had once been a field, and scrubby trees grew along a stream, they tethered out the horses and mules and made their camp. Over dinner, Dregydd discussed the route ahead.
“This stream turns into a river farther south. We’ll follow it down to the coast, then turn east and march along the sea cliffs to Cannobaen. There’s plenty of fodder along there for the stock. I’d say we’re a good two days out, so let’s hope this dry weather holds.”
Jill felt a sudden coldness along her back, as if someone had stroked her spine with a clammy hand. She was sure that worse trouble than a possible rainstorm lay ahead. Although she tried to talk herself out of the feeling, late that night when she was trying to get to sleep, the gray gnome appeared. He was troubled, too, pulling at her shirt, pointing off to the east, and opening his mouth in little soundless whimpers. Finally Jill got up and followed him to the edge of the sleeping camp. He jumped up and down, pointing, always pointing to the east.
“I don’t see anything.”
He clutched at his head in agony and promptly disappeared. Jill went back to her bedroll. Except for the occasional drowsy stamp of a horse or a mule, the night was utterly quiet. Once she heard the cry of an owl and looked up to see the tiny dark shape of the bird flying against the stars. She dozed off to have troubled dreams, that an enormous owl flew overhead, calling out warnings of danger. Just at dawn she woke with a start. The gnome was pulling her hair.
“Oh, all right. Let me get my boots on, and then you try to show me again.”
The gnome led her down to the stream, where, a giant among the twisted willows, stood one old oak. He danced around and pointed to the tree. When Jill looked up, she saw Aderyn in the branches. He gave her a sheepish smile, then climbed down, as nimble as a lad.
“I’ve been keeping a watch,” Aderyn said, and Jill could see that he was deeply troubled. “We’re in grave danger, child. Hurry! Go wake your father!”
Together they ran back to the waking camp. The men were getting up and stretching, the horses and mules starting to graze. Jill found Cullyn just pulling on his boots.
“Da, come with me! Aderyn says there’s trouble ahead.”
Cullyn got up and grabbed his sword belt from the ground. He buckled it on as they ran back across the camp to find Aderyn arguing with Dregydd, who looked utterly baffled.
“You’ve known me for years,” Aderyn was saying. “Please, my friend, you’ve got to trust me now.”
“I do. But how the hells can you know? I’ve never had any trouble with bandits out here, and now you say that there’s a whole pack of them waiting in ambush. Doesn’t make any blasted sense.”
“I can know and I do know. We’ve got to do something, or we’ll all be slaughtered on the road.”
From the look on Dregydd’s face it was obvious that he thought the old man had gone completely and suddenly mad. Aderyn leaned forward and stared into his eyes. The look of disbelief vanished.
“Of course,” Dregydd said. “I’ll do whatever you say.”
For a moment Jill’s hands shook. Against all reason she knew that she’d just seen a man ensorceled. When Aderyn glanced her way, she ducked her head and refused to look at him. He laughed softly, acknowledging the gesture.
“Cullyn,” he said. “Do you believe me?”
“I do, and I don’t care how you scried them out, either.”
It was Aderyn’s turn to be startled. Cullyn gave him a weary sort of smile.
“How many of them are there?”
“At least thirty, and they seem to be as well armed as a lord’s warband.”
Dregydd turned dead white. Frightened muleteers clustered around to whisper the news among themselves.
“We’ve got to have shelter.” Cullyn looked as bored and lazy as if he were asking for ale in a tavern. “The muleteers have quarterstaves, but they can’t use them if they’re being ridden down by men on horseback. A patch of forest, rocks—anything to make them attack on foot.”
Aderyn hesitated, thinking hard.
“Here,” Jill broke in.