Hawkmoon (The Hawkmoon Chronicles) (18 page)

                                                              The Wee Men.

The Chancellor was  giving a report when the Captain of the Guard entered and whispered  to Morah.“Director, a party is  outside the walls.They have asked  to see Hawkmoon”

“He’s not here”

“They have been  informed,  they  requested  a meeting with you or the Field Commander”

“Britan won’t see them. Who are they?”

“I believe they are half pints…. The People of the Parish”

“What is it, Morah?” The Queen interrupted. “Your Majesty, a deputation of Norry’s people have arrived. They have been camped outside the gates for the last two days”

“In this weather. Why did they not come in?”

“I ordered the gates closed.”

“Bring them to our presence”

The Captain whispered. “They are frozen and hungry. Several of them are ill.”

“Get the healthiest one and put the others to bed. “ Morah bowed to the Queen.

“Your Majesty, they have suffered on  their journey. Once they have been attended to they will be presented”

The Chancellor concluded her report. With the Realm in the grip of Winter most  trade had ceased. Ports were frozen and taxes would not start to flow until the Spring thaw.

Shallan Bey  represented the Queen of Silverlode. “Your Majesty, the country is on the verge of bankruptcy. A decision was made by our Queen in concert with the High Council and her ministers that the entire wealth of Silverlode be placed at the service of victory…If  the invasion is thrown back the loan can be  repaid . In case of defeat our wealth will not  benefit us except to  give the enemies greater cause for celebration. We have given thought as to how that loan should be repaid We believe we have a plan that   will allow for repatriation of the funds in a matter that will not place an unreasonable strain on the economy.. We propose a  number of development projects. Lands in the Southwest are undeveloped. There are tracts of forest and arable land. Silverlode will assist in providing   finance  for  reconstruction and development. The object should be not only  to bring the economy back to pre war standards but to double its size within  five  years.” The Minister resumed his seat.

The Captain  of the Guard  came back . Bowing to their majesties he whispered to Morah. The Director  addressed the Queen:“Your Majesty, one of the party is sufficiently recovered. He requests audience”

“Bring him forward”

If the one that presented himself could be  seen as recovered  the rest  of his party were in a parlous condition. He bowed low.

“Your Majesty…” His legs gave way and he would have fallen only the Captain held his arm.

“My dear fellow, sit you down. Has he eaten?”

“Soup, your majesty. He  insisted that he was  fit  to be presented”

“Bring food, and blankets.””Mira came  to sit by him.

“One of your people has performed a great service for the  Realm.”

“Your Majesty, whatever was done was poor recompense for bringing our people out of servitude”

“What is your name?”

“I am Tarin Ben Arfa .I am Rector of the Parish”

“Ben Arfa, that was  Norry’s family name”

“Norry Ben Arfa was my son. He left home some years ago to wander in the world of men. His dream was to be a Ranger . It was foolish to ever dream that a Half Man could join warrior elite. He has been a disappointment”

The Queen gazed at him . “My good man, there is no reason for disappointment. He has brought honour  to your people. I was ill and close to death in the wilderness. He saved my life. It was his initiative that led to   a weapon that will help us to wage a new  kind of war against those who seek our destruction.  It was his courage that protected that secret long enough for it to reach safe hands. Except for Hawkmoon no one has ever served the Land better.”

Tears began to roll down his face. “Where is  he ?”

He is at Silverlode working on the new weapons. Now tell me, what is it that brings you through the Wilderness”

“It was after the first snows when the murders began. No bodies were found for a number of weeks. Then we found two, mutilated, almost torn apart …We had seen those wounds before.

One night a vampire came to my door. She requested to speak before   the Parish Council. When we assembled she told us that a certain Half Man had come to their attention. It would be our task to find  him and turn him over or the slaughter would continue until none were alive. We know the value of promises made by the Wampyrhii so we gave no mind to cooperation We executed her and send the head  to the Icelands.

Every night after has seen more disappearances. On occasion they turn some of those taken capture into vampires and send them into the Parish. We have the terrible task of killing   those who were our own kin…

Mira’s face changed as Ben Arfa spoke. It paled, the eyes went cold, the mouth tight. She beckoned to Chatto who came to stand by her side. “This is Chatto.  He is Dhampir. He will go North and deal with the problem. You will write letters of introduction to those left in charge that he is to be given every assistance. He will leave this day. How long will it take?” The Queen asked the Dhampir.

Chatto shrugged. “It will depend on the size of the nest”… Morah frowed at the lack of formality. Chattto looked at the Halfman. “How many have been taken ”.

“ Some nights one, some  nights, up to three;  fifty seven before our  defences were improved” The Halfman looked at Bey who nodded.”The dwarves have sent guards to help us. We are few enough. If we continue to lose people  the Parish will be gone in less than a year.”.

“If you can take one alive, I want it put to the question. I am concerned to hear  that they know we possess a  weapon and that its’ inventor was a  Half Man.”

“Your Majesty, questioning a vampire  is seldom profitable . I will try to learn what I can”

Mira turned to the Rector.”Chatto will deal with the present circumstance but it is plain that you  are not defensible. There are lands in the Southwest.. We will assign you grants in perpetuity so that the Half Men can live in peace.”

                                                               The Plain of Tarsis

The night passed  as they steered  to avoid wreckage.. Dawn brightened  with fog on the water.As daylight marked coppery tints on the tips of the canyon  they came out to a broad expanse of flat calm. Forest came down to the waters’ edge. “The river would take us to Elfhome if we could have stayed on the river . We have to lie up on the left bank.  Downstream  are  the Needles. That’s where we leave the water.. If we get there and hide our tracks there is a chance they will go past”

“If they pass us they will never find us”

Hawkmoon shook his head. “They have enough to put boats on the river and send trackers inland. They can stay on the water for as long as they want. Our destination has to be Elfhome . They can set a watch over Tarsis. The Challon starts wandering where it flows to the Marshes. We won’t go in there. They know that.”

Another dawn found them at the edge of theplain. The river, now calm, and unhurried stretched behind them over the empty miles. Bekter  could see no sign  but he was too old a wolf not to know when he was being hunted. He talked big but he was no runner. As a youth he could lead a charge if it was a hundred, paces. But two hundred miles? Food would be a problem; and water.Not much to be had of either on the plain of Tarsis.  A few settlements where  desperate people tried their hand at hardscrabble mining. Not counting magickers that others of their kind would have nothing to do with there was nothing else out there. Hawkmoon could have that axe. There was something wrong about it. Years ago he took a horse from a customer that had no money to pay his bill. It was a cavalry horse, or so he said. It had a walleye and you just knew it was watching for a chance to kill you.Just like the axe.

The Needles  appeared  later that morning.. There was a  beach of fine gravel  They paddled to the waterside. If those behind knew their business they would have canoes  close by the   bank on either side watching for sign where a boat had been dragged .The current had  stranded an uprooted tree. They made for it and tied a line to one of its branches. It had foliage and would hide their retreat from the water. Hawkmoon stepped over the trunk to the shallows inside. Bekter passed him the gear. Pushing  the  boat into the current he watched  as it  sped downriver .

They built a hide on a grassy knoll and waited. It was afternoon  when they came.They counted nine canoes; seventy two hunters. One of the boats  approached the tree. …. Someone shouted and the canoe turned away. They waited while the raiders moved  downstream.. After an hour Beker moved to get up. Hawkmoon shook his head. As he settled three  canoes passed fully laden.. Hawkmoon’s  plan was to run in daylight that day and the next. By going downstream the hunters had given them time.. Hawkmoon  had the build of an athlete; narrow waisted with long legs and wide shoulders , arms heavy with muscle. He was talking of  thirty miles a day…Bekter stared at him

The bastard is going to kill me .

The river was stocked with fish. Game birds squawked  in the tree at the banks. They might have stayed to  provision themselves but the risk of  more  canoes forced them inland.  An hour from the river  they came to an orchard heavy with apples. The cold had made them sweet .Rabbits ran from them .Bekter killed two with a slingshot. Skinning the rabbits  they tied them on their belts .

  The woods ended, the ground turning  to stone and gravel. Breath rasping, lungs bursting, Bekter’s legs were  rubber Someone told him once  that if you are fit your sweat has no taste.  His was nothing but  salt. Hawkmoon was moving in fluid  strides, carrying  the gear and that ferocious axe . Tarsis was wide , crisscrossed with ravines, gullies and hidden hollows, some deep enough to hide a company.  Most of them   lay  across their line of march..

At their midday  stop Bekter  left  his coat by the track. Hawkmoon  made him go back for it. The plain  was dry ,supporting life around rock tanks. Most of the rain that fell went through Limestone to  carve massive  caverns. The plain was  pocked with caves; many    home creatures best avoided. They halted before sundown as the light  threw orange shadows on mountains to the north. The place smelt of rotten eggs. Bekter lay, huddled on the trail, too weak to  light a fire.

Hawkmoon kicked his boot.

“What?”

“Get up”

“I’m fine , thank you. Just let me rest. “Hawkmoon glared at him.“You’re freezing  Ice is forming in your clothes. If you sleep you will be dead in an hour.. Bekter  turned away; Hawkmoon  grabbed Bekter and hoisted him over his shoulder. . “Put me  down “  Bekter struggled as Hawkmoon carried him out of the hollow, up a  slope  to a circle of rocks. The smell here was stronger. A pool bubbled at his feet. Hawkmoon let him  drop  into the water. Bekter came to the surface enraged and cursing. Then he noticed the heat. It  stank like a henhouse but it was hot. Hawkmoon came back with the gear and left it by the pool  He jumped in opposite Bekter.“You know some interesting places.”

“Water seeps down onto hot rocks and comes back up. It smells a bit but you will feel good tomorrow”

“I feel good now.” He lay back, not bothering to take off his clothes. The sky was overcast, mist circling the hills to the north.  Snow was coming, a lot of it by the looks. He was hungry and thirsty but  not enough to get out. ..  Careful not to drop it in the water Hawkmoon passed him the last of therabbit. Snow brushed his cheek and faded instantly.”  Bekter slept  while the first moon  spied from between snow laden clouds. Something touched him ; warm fingers brushing his face. He opened his eyes to see a girl, long red hair, eyes of amber. She was dressed in a green material that moulded itself to her body… He glanced at Hawkmoon who dozed, head back.

“How did she get here?”

“I told you. They go where water flows”

The older one  came up  near Hawkmoon. He  climbed from the pool, the girl following. A cold wind had come with twilight . Walking back the trail he sat in the cover of a boulder.  . The girl seemed unaffected. She stood close, eyes  gazing into his.

“Thank your father for his help.”

“Thanks is not required my lord. There are those who say we should not meddle in the affairs of men. Men defile the Land, they poison the water, they destroy its forests...Not all men are like that” She said, brushing his lips.

He took her hand away “Go to the Elves Tell them Reivers  are on  Tarsis. We will meet a day north of the Shanan”

“It shall be done, my lord. Who may come to assist you or how many I cannot say”. She took his hand and kissed it.Sunrise was hidden  as they finished a meagre breakfast. Bekter moved easily, the fatigue of the previous day  a memory.. He finished  their Spartan meal .. When Hawkmoon apologised for the lack of food he tapped a massive paunch:

“Don’t worry about me. By the time we get to Elfhome I will be the god like youth women adore”

“Bekter. The only woman that ever  adored you was your mother and her eyesight was not the best.”

If they moved fast  they would be clear before the watchers were in place The track formed part of  a military road  built by an empire to bring back   the gold that  kept their people in bread and circuses..Hawkmoon set an easier pace than the day before or so it seemed as  Bekter  moved  in front. His breathing was easy, face barely flushed . A  ridgeline  to the right concealed  them from  spying eyes.   The track  would  last  until the following evening. After that the plateau was a flat board; everything  on it that moved by daylight would be  seen.

Hawkmoon offered him the last of the fruit. Bekter shook his head. His body had used the energy from the food. It was switching to the strength stored in his fat.  Taking   water he kept on. White flecks started to land around them. The road had sunk below the surrounding land  affording a measure of protection. They had to make the seep. With the storm rising darkness would come early. Over the years he had learned  tricks to remove his mind from  pain and fatigue..  His favourite was to think  of  his wife.….

Two had escaped, seven  had been taken. The tracks of a wagon led into the forest . Ruts  from the wheels  made them easy to follow. They caught up to  them in a forest clearing two days later. Three by the   fire ,one of them a giant of a man,  two by the wagon, wrestling with a girl . Bekter  waited  while Hawkmoon circled round.

A warbling sound came from the other side. Rising from cover Bekter walked  into the clearing . The ones at the fire hooted, shouting encouragement at the two with the girl. She fought them, grim faced and silent. One slapped her. Pulling back she glimpsed   the newcomer. The two with her looked to see where she was looking. One of them wrenched her to place her between himself and the stranger. The other ran for the trees.  Bekter let fly with a small hatchet. Elbowing the man who held her, the girl threw herself on the  earth..Those at the fire gaped at Bekter. Enraged one of them reached for a bow. He screamed and fell over backwards.  The others leaped for swords. Bellowing the  biggest  of them  gathered   a Tulwar and charged. 

One started to load a crossbow. A bolt hit him in the back of the head  , emerging through a mat of hair.   Two ran from the camp. The one in front   turned as if someone had called him back… He collapsed. The Tulwar charged blade  descending. Moving aside, Bekter stabbed him in the kidneys .. The slaver began to rise then  collapsed, face in the dirt. Hawkmoon came in.

“Thanks for leaving the big one for me. What about the one that ran?”

“Don’t worry about him”

The girl was at the wagon trying to open  it. She spun as Bekter  approached holding a knife.“ Easy lass. We’re not one of them.”  Bekter had a  sheepskin jacket. He placed it round her shoulders.  She  trembled ,shock  beginning to take hold. Her  left eye was closing with a massive bruise.

Some of the women were crying, the rest silent. Slavers  left the women alone if they were virgins or they looked like they might be.. This lot hadn’t bothered.Bekter smashed the lock with the hilt of the Tulwar . One of the women, taller and older looked out. She came to Bekter and stood before him. Grief made her eyes wide yet she had command of herself. She asked him for a knife.  Walking over to where the big man lay, she knelt by him. She whispered. He looked at her. Holding the tip of the blade over one of his eyes she pushed it into his head.

They returned to the settlement. It was deserted. Except for a woodcutters   cottage, the houses had burnt. That night  the girl came to his room . She asked him to take her to Cormalin. Then she took a blanket and lay  on the floor. When he offered  her the bed  she stared at him, face tight with fear . Taking a blanket he left the room.

Bekter  had a tavern in Cormalin . She would run it for him.  Hawkmoon took   a contract to  take a  caravan out to the tribes. They would be gone  until Spring…

It was  early Summer when they rode back to  the city. He expected to find the place   shut and her gone. The tavern was bustling.. Most of the staff were women they had taken from the slavers.  The tall one gave him a smile and a hug. Another ran to find Shula. He was drinking at the bar when he felt a touch on his shoulder. The girl he left was unrecognisable in the one he returned to.  She was taller than he remembered, dressed in blue velvet with  her hair tied back. She was smiling...  She invited him upstairs but he preferred to stay among company.  It was his way when he had been through war. That and getting drunk to the point of wretchedness. Looking at her he realised he did not know how to talk to her.  Most of his experience  with women had been with whores or women who might as well have been. This one was different…

On the return journey they had trouble from renegades. One had nicked him with an arrow. Hawkmoon had cleaned it and   put the arm in a sling. Seeing the wrapping she asked what had happened. He made the mistake of telling her. Her eyes bored into his.

“How dare you come back like that” Surprised at her tone he was pleased with the proprietorial  note of her complaint.

“Shula, this is my work, it is what I do.”

She struggled to contain  her emotions . “That day in the forest..… I thought my life was over. They hurt me ... Then you came. Walking in as if it was nothing. My guardian angel”

“Your ugly angel”

“Solomon Bekter, you are not ugly, don’t ever say that” she scolded “You faced armed slavers. Most men would have kept going.  “

“I had help.”
“Yes , Hawkmoon”  It was obvious she disliked  the Ranger.

“He is my friend  ”

“He is a killer”

Bekter took her hands. “My dear, I am   a killer”We make war on slavers. It is part of  our code. We live by it so that we can persuade ourselves we are better than scum… We are scum. In a better world we would be dead or in jail .Please understand. I am what I am. If you cannot accept that we should   go our separate ways. “

She  stayed quiet for several moments. He thought this was the end for them When she looked up she was smiling. “You are not ugly”. She took his arm and they went upstairs.

The  blizzard eased, enough to make out a line of trees. . Above the moan of the wind came the snap of branches collapsing  under the weight of snow. The trees divided into a clearing .A group of  cabins   huddled   by a line of boulders. Ice crunched under their feet. Smoke came from one as they clambered over the drifts. As they approached the house a weak light came through cracks in the shutters. Bekter hammered on the door.  The sound of feet shuffling came. A thin face peered out. The stench of sickness followed   him.