Chapter 10 - Riders in the Night

The night grew frigid after the storm passed. For the first time in days the clouds had parted, and stars glittered down on the village. Torches along the wall flickered in the wind, casting their embers away into the darkness beyond. Thomas wrapped his cloak tighter about himself, feeling the wind’s attempt to pull it away. His eyes drifted to the hill’s crest. It stood abandoned.

Two days had passed, and two days he spent watching the road. Anytime Joseph or Noah would take guard with him, he demanded them away or requested that they watch a different section of the wall. Over two days, he spent alone waiting. Not a soul came down the road.

“You should at least eat something.” He had not noticed the figure coming up the wooden steps behind him. Thomas glanced over at the old woman. She carried a little basket covered in a linen cloth. He breathed deeply, realizing how long he had been holding it in, then put on a light smile.

“Ah, good evening Avice. What’s got you out this late?” She shuffled over beside the man, and faced him rather than the world beyond the wall. His peripheral noticed this, and he felt a creepy sensation of concern in her gaze. “It’s cold out. You should probably be somewhere warm.”

“Young man, look at me.” Thomas shuffled, his posture failing for a moment before turning just enough in her direction to make eye contact. She held his gaze, sizing him up through heavy lids. Compared to the face that looked back at him in the orange light of the torch, Elias seemed a brand new man.

“Something you needed to speak to me about, Mrs. Avice?” She shook her head, then struck him across the top of his head, disheveling his black gray hair. He now turned fully towards her, raising his hand near his head for protection. “In the name of-”

“What’s all this Mrs. Avice nonsense?” She cut him off. “Since when did you start thinking your title gave you rights to talk to me like that?” She turned with a grunt of indignation and looked out to the hill. “Actin’ like I weren’t the one to place you on my wagon to bring you here. No respect from you. Even after all I done.”

Thomas rolled his eyes and rubbed his fingers over his forehead. A long sigh escaped his nostrils. He spotted the basket hung over the crook in her arm. The smell of bread wafted from under its cloth. For the first time since the travelers had left the gates, he felt the pains of his stomach.

“I apologize.” He regained full posture and bowed his head to her. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he gave her a hearty slap on the back. “Evening Avi! How’s the old bones treating ya?” The wind flowed out from her mouth as she stumbled upon the spiked posts. Looking back at him she began to regain her composure to shout, but before she could he landed a wet kiss upon her wide forehead. In her stupor, she hadn’t realized Thomas had used the action to slip the basket away from her and began picking through it. “Oh, looks like you brought us guards some good supper tonight.”

“Y-you’re no town guard, Thomas Greywall.” She stammered, looking from the now disturbed basket to the man. His grin widening with each new item found within. Her body loosened once more. “But yes, I have brought you a good supper, haven’t I?” She watched him make a gigantic bite upon a loaf of bread, while at the same time it showed clear that he tried to not eat too quickly. “Now tell my Tommy, why have I seen you up here for the past two days. Shouldn’t you be attending your work?”

Thomas looked up from the bread, his chewing slowed as his vision returned to the distant hill. Still no one. He swallowed and took another deep breath.

“Suppose I am just here to make sure they make it back.”

“Who?”

“Elias and Gile- the prisoner.” He took another bite. “They should have been back by today. Assuming, of course, they didn’t find anything of interest.”

“Don’t talk with a full mouth, Tommy.”

“Yes ma’am.” He swallowed the bite after a few more chews.

“What would happen if they find something? Do you believe that young man’s tale?” Thomas thought for a moment before shaking his head. “Well, then what do you intend to find up here that young Joseph or little Noah wouldn’t be able to see? Don’t you think you ought to be back where you belong?”

Thomas chuckled through another mouthful of bread.

“Where I belong. Feels recently that nothing but bad news ever meets me where I belong. Besides, my friend needs me.” Avice smacked him in the chest.

“I said not to talk with a full mouth. Now answer me, what is really on your mind? If you don’t believe the tale, then why are you so absent minded about all of this? You don’t really think that child could really hurt Elias, do you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then what is it?”

An owl hooted somewhere in the woods to the south. Its wise call echoed over the hills to the town. Thomas heard and his body filled with a chill of ancient campfire stories from his childhood. Of vile monsters and great heroes. Even as a boy, the stories seemed too far beyond possibility. The world already had enough men and women trying to fill both roles. He had witnessed that truth since a young age. So, what did have him so worried?

“Avi, when we came here, did you ever learn much about Windfall’s history?”

“Hmm? History? No, not really. Never had much time for that sort of thing. I suppose I knew about the old king. And his son, of course. But that wasn’t considered history at the time that I learned about them.” She chuckled. “Why? Need me to find you an instructor?”

“No, no. It’s just the story he told.” Thomas shook his head, searching in the night for some distant memory. “Something I saw once. It's nothing. Don’t worry-”

“Rider at the East Gate sir.” Joseph came running through the town center, torch bobbing in his hand, spilling its embers along the stone path. “He says he wants to speak to the master of the town.” Thomas handed the basket back to Avice, and wiped crumbs from his mouth. His eye went sharp as he looked down at the guard. “Did he say his name or what he wanted with me?”

“No, sir. Only that he needed to speak to Thomas of Windfall about the body.” Thomas felt his chest tighten.

“Send him to my hall at once.”

—

The man who stood before Thomas’s desk glanced about with a squint. One eye had long since gone white, but the other perceived enough for both. He did not sit, and Thomas did not offer him a chair. Instead, the man stood, hunched and fidgeting. Thomas watched him closely.

“You are only ever supposed to send a rider, and even then they are never to approach my village.”

“Yes.” His voice came out tired.

“Yet you go against these rules, and on top of it all you come here asking for me personally.” He stood up, placing both hands upon the wide desk to lean on. “What possible purpose could you have to compromise my network in such a way?” His voice shook with suppressed rage. The man straightened up, and looked him in the eye.

“The body reached Ironveil.” He looked about at the windows and took a step closer. Thomas, eyebrows reaching high, leaned towards the man. “They said it was pierced by two arrows. One in the neck and one in the eye.”

“Yes, yes. Enough of the medical report. Which kingdom did it belong to? Was it from Northguard like we suspected?” The man’s mouth shook for a moment before the words would come.

“Sir, it had the crest of the golden rose on it.” Thomas pulled back. His eyes narrowed again as he looked the man up and down.

“The golden rose? What do you mean? That can’t be right. That’s simply not possible. No one in their right mind would be stupid enough to…” His voice trailed off as he observed no hints of doubt in the man’s tanned face. Then his face went white, and he slumped into his chair running his long fingers through his hair. “Gods, no, this isn’t happening.” His hand froze. “The rose, did it have three-”

“Yes, sir. It had three red leaves on its stem. I made certain of that before leaving for here as fast as I could. Now you know why I did not trust this information with a rider.”

“Yes, yes you did right by that.” Thomas’s hands shook as he excitedly reached for the wine bottle. He forwent any cup, drinking straight from the container. The liquid eventually overtook his drinking speed, and he pulled it away sputtering red wine about his desk. His eyes landed upon the scattered letters from the dozens of spies and riders he had stationed about Tovoran. Many, dated over a period of months, mentioned a continued inpouring of refugees from the mountain pass into Northguard. Some about how the Namroe tribe had been set upon a month or so ago by a band of raiders, leaving no known survivors.

However, only one held his interest above the entire pile. The prince of Greyrock had gone hunting with a party in the Eastern Woods, and had gone missing.

“Tell me, the arrows used, were they something a civilian would have?”

“No sir. They were white with green feathers.”

Thomas looked up at the man, his breathing growing in intensity.

“An assassination.”

“Yes, sir. And based on where they found the body, he shouldn’t have been too far from these parts. Somewhere between here and Warrenhall. Judging by the arrows, we know which way he must be heading.”

“Don’t be so sure.” Thomas began wringing his hands. “No doubt it was their arrows. But we must not jump to conclusions with this.” He looked up again. “Listen to me, no one other than us knows of these details?”

“Yes, sir.”

“It must stay that way for as long as possible. After all, you would think that if an assassin from Warrenhall had done this, then they would have at least been smart enough to use common arrows.”

“The rulers of Greyrock will not see it that way. You know this.”

“Yes. However, this is good news for us. It means that whoever killed the prince might have wanted to make it look as though Warrenhall had committed the crime. If that is the case, then he wouldn’t be heading up north to them, now would he?”

“He could be on the run back through the mountain pass through Northguard.”

“Yes, yes he could.”

“But you don’t believe that?”

“Not for a damn second.” The man looked close at Thomas, stretching his neck forward.

“What makes you so sure?” A knowing light came into his good eye. “You know who did this.”

“All I have is a possibility. And currently it is out at a farm being stalked by a monster.”

“Giles.”

Both men whirled about to face a wardrobe at the back wall of the room. The spy brought out a knife from his belt, and Thomas drew a large sword from under his desk. Slowly they approached, and readied themselves on each side of the tall doors. Flinging them open they both went to strike, only stopping short upon seeing the wide panicked eyes under the mop of curly red hair.

“Noah?” Thomas screamed, dropping the sword.

“You know him?”

“Unfortunately.” Without a moment’s thought, Thomas grabbed the boy by the shirt and heaved him from the coats.

The young guard looked sheepishly up at the two older men, who stared down at him through rage filled eyes.

“How long have you been in there?”

“Only ever since you arrived. I had to dodge in there fast to hide.”

“Wha- hide?” Thomas looked back at the desk. “You were reading my damn letters again weren’t you?” He pulled Noah to his feet, and then onto his toes. But, before he could take any further action a fist pounded upon the door. Joseph’s voice came through, ragged from running.

“He’s here! Elias has come back!”