They woke early and set off at once. Macelan knew some geography and they planned to cross the flatland to the Cathtrag Mountains and follow the edge of the range south until they chose either Lynburg or Rhath as their destination. Neither of them had any friends or relatives in those towns but those were the nearest settlements to where they were now. Macelan suggested crossing the mountains to try to reach Stormridge, but Serada ignored him. Stormridge was an isolated town and although the chances were good that the arm of the High King had not reached deep into the high forests there were dark rumors about the town and its rough citizens.
"I prefer to take my chances closer to civilization."
"No such thing," said Macelan.
"Frankly, I am tired of this situation. And especially of you. Can't you be serious once in your life?"
"What's the problem?"
"You are going to get us killed through your carelessness and I won't let it happen if I've the chance."
"Don't move," said a merry voice behind him. "I've got an arrow aimed at your back. Turn around slowly and let me see what I have caught."
They turned to see a stout woman, nearly Serada's height with the largest crossbow either of them had ever seen. Her face was smiling and the eyes were clear and blue. Her blond hair was long and braided. She wore a leather shirt that drooped low over her trousers to her knees just above the mud-caked boots.
"My, aren't we the handsome fellows? And where might we be going?"
"Anywhere the Calendian army is not," said Macelan.
"I thought as much. Your pursuers gave up a couple miles back. What have you done?"
"Nothing. Just the wrong place at the wrong time," said Serada.
"Too bad," said the woman. She had sized them up as hardy fellows, capable of hard work, if not used to it. One at least had callused hands. "We could have used stout fellows. We're understaffed you see."
"And who are we?" asked Macelan, looking around for her companions.
"You won't see anyone. They will not expose themselves until I signal. And I won't. We are too close to the soldiers. All it takes is one stray soldier to see us and set an alarm. Then I'd have to kill you one the spot." She grinned. She pointed her arrow at Macelan.
"First you answer my questions. Who are you and where are you from?"
"I am called Macelan and this is Serada. We are from Dale."
Dale? That is a long trek. But not too long if you don't want to be soldiers. What can you do?"
"Do?"
"Skills? What kind of work?"
"Fishing," said Serada.
"Mostly drinking and daydreaming," added Macelan.
"Oh ho! An honest one. Well, you're a rare one."
"That's for sure," Serada muttered.
"My friend thinks I take life too lightly. He is a serious young man, blaming it on his father's death."
"Hey!" cried Serada. "What right do you.."
"And the death of my mother sent me to flippancy. You be the judge, kind lady. Which of us is the greater fool?"
Serada tried to sock Macelan but the archer moved, halting him.
"Don't make you kill you for your hot-headedness. You boys or young men rather, need only a cause to cleave yourselves to. I believe you are just lacking direction."
"A job, you mean," said Serada. "We can't get work."
"Perhaps there is a place for you with us. I will take you to Gareth. He will decide what to do with you."
"Who are you?" asked Macelan. She looked at him silently.
"I am Mira. We are what the High King would call rebels. We have no name for ourselves other than patriots. Walk north, I will follow."
"Another fine mess," Serada muttered, cursing himself for not listening to Solly.
"Go home if you don't like your vacation," said Macelan.
"Don't talk too much," said Mira. "The sentries will shoot at your unfamiliar voices."
"From one extreme to another," moaned Serada.
"Except from here there is nowhere else," said Mira, coldly.
"I have brought the Amogrihens," said Thame. He glanced nervously around him. He did not trust Kaell and fully expected the wizard to end his life at any time. He had seen that look before on old Ferny before he killed his wife. Ferny's eyes made Thame's palms itch and Kaell had the same expression at times. Far too often. There was insanity there.
"Good, Thame," said Kaell. "I want them released at dark near the old road to the tower ruins. I believe our hunting may be good tonight."
"They will be there, Lord Kaell."
"Be discreet. I don't want the High King to learn of this. It would prove distasteful for all involved. Extremely distasteful. The High King must not be implicated. Do I present the situation clearly to you?"
"Yes, Lord Kaell. I understand. There will be no mistakes." He began to inch away from the table.
"Excellent. Now, watch for a man and a woman waiting for a rendezvous."
"A woman? I don't know that I like killing women."
Kaell pursed his lips. His fingers waggled.
"You have been well paid, Thame. And it will be the Amogrihens doing the killing. Your clothes will be free of blood."
"But it will be me releasing them. It's the same thing."
"Do we have to have this tired old argument each time? Your hands are already very, very bloody. Can you count the victims of your Amogrihens? A little more will make no difference."
"But.."
"Enough! You drive me to distraction and my patience is failing. I can find another to handle the Amogrihens." He spat in the dirt, watching it bubble and trickle in the cracks of the floor.
"What about me?" whined Thame.
"What use will I have for you then?" He looked hard at the man.
There was a long silence as Thame weighed his options, his eyes darting between Kaell and the bag of gold on the table. On the table near Kaell was a short sword, but the man feared Kaell's magic more.
"I understand. It will be done as you request."
"I am so glad to have your approval. I will speak with you at dawn." Kaell watched the man walk away. He had so many methods of killing Thame, but he would take his time deciding. He took it as a challenge to fit the punishment to the victim. He passed many rainy days in determining the proper methods.
The couple had waited near the edge of the forest for over an hour past the appointed time and the messenger from Gareth still had not appeared. The night was passing swiftly and they had waited far too long they knew, given the circumstances. But the information on Calendian soldier movement was vital and without it the undermanned rebellion might fail. Parean repeatedly tried to convince Daura they should leave but she wanted to wait just a little longer. Daura, sister of Gareth and daughter of the former Imperial Secretary and cousin of the High King was very visible at Nantitet court and had much to lose if discovered as a rebel. She had spent years building up trust despite the exploits of her brother. Most of the court did not couple them in their thoughts and never considered that she was involved with the rebellion at all. It had been a difficult achievement and she had crushed her pride on many occasions.
Even the High King was fond of her despite Gareth's attempts to usurp the throne. And from all appearances, she did not embrace Gareth's beliefs. The wizards, especially Kaell, mistrusted her, and tried to influence the High King against her. But they had no evidence of treason. If she was found with a rebel spy, then the High King would have to act. Kaell always watched her for some act of duplicity. She felt his eyes whenever she was in the palace. As the time passed Daura found herself extremely agitated, worrying that she would give herself away.
The moon had released its cover of clouds and shadows of the trees were long and distinct in the grass. The danger of discovery would increase the longer they waited and their positions in Nantitet were too important to compromise with the rebel plans so far from ripe. They agreed that they must return soon to Rhath where the High King was staying and assume their posts. It was an awkward decision to leave without contact with the rebels because Parean and Daura would directly return to Nantitet with the High King and the difficulty to converse with Gareth would increase sevenfold.
"How much longer do we dare wait?" asked Parean. "I do not like this. We must return before we are missed. We are exposing ourselves to Kaell's suspicions."
"I agree," replied Daura. "But we are already under Kaell's eye. It seems like everywhere I turn the wizard is there watching me. But we must contact Gareth's messenger. He can do little against the High King without our help. He has no other eyes and ears in the palace. Only we can give him information on the High King's intentions in advance of execution. If he makes a move for which he needs our aid and we cannot help, the outlook will be very bleak."
"As it will be if we don't return soon. The High King wants to leave early in the morning and that draws fast upon us. Let us return."
"Kaell spends all his time on battling the rebels," said Daura, trying to ignore the remark. "While Prosty accompanies the High King everywhere. I don't see how Gareth can get by the vigilance of Kaell. And Kaell has the Calendian army at his personal disposal."
Parean grasped her elbow and tried to lead her away. She smiled, twisting out of his grasp.
"But you're right. We can't wait much longer. We must go soon. Another ten minutes."
"I am not a soldier," said Parean. "I don't want you to expect me to defend you against soldiers. I have seldom lifted a sword."
"I know. It is your mind that attracts me. And I didn't ask you to come out here. You are exposing yourself needlessly to Kaell's suspicions. Besides, I was just to exchange information. No physical danger. Kaell wouldn't risk it until he was sure."
"I hope you're right."
There was a snap of a twig and they fell silent. Daura wasn't sure if they had made the noise themselves or not. They waited but did not hear any other sound. Parean grasped her hand. The breeze had died and Parean swore he could hear himself sweat. It was difficult to see anything with the darkness growing. Images seemed to float in the shadows the longer they stared at them, making them doubt their own senses. They waited. Parean's breath began to shorten and he gripped Daura's hand fiercely. At Daura's signal they both moved off slowly to find their horses. The trees were close together and the thick underbrush made it difficult to see very far in any direction. They moved more quickly but they saw shadows dance and fade around them and when they stopped, the shadows did also.
"It's nothing but ourselves," whispered Parean. She prayed he was right.
"I am not sure. Look there." She pointed to a low spot just ahead of them where three long shadows reached up into the shadows of the trees. But there were more shadows than trees.
They waited but could discern no movement from the shadows.
"Perhaps they are only shadows. An odd angle or two."
"Can we take that chance?" asked Daura. She was sure they had been discovered. But what would Kaell do? What were those shadows?
Parean shrugged. His throat was barely moist enough to speak.
"They are between us and the horses," whispered Daura. "If they are more than shadows, I do not know what they are. My hair standing on end."
"Stay here. I will try to draw them off."
"No," she said. "We will do what we must together."
"It does the rebels no good for both of us to die."
"And it does me no good," replied Daura. "For you to die."
He looked at her and smiled. Even in the darkness she knew he smiled and kissed him.
Parean's pulse raced. He did not want to confront Kaell. He was not a fighter and Daura had dragged him into a difficult situation. If they were caught they would certainly be executed, but how could he fight armed men? He had no training, no experience. He had never handled a long sword. Surely Daura could not despise him for that?
Their horses were silent which puzzled Daura. Surely they would have made some noise if someone approached in the dark. She strained her eyes but the darkness would not reveal the horses. They might have been led away. But by whom? Would Kaell's wizardry work on horses?
They moved away from the mysterious shadows and the long shadows drifted after them. So it seemed. When Daura turned to check on the shadows the night was still. If something was following them it could see it the dark better than they could and it stopped each time one of them tried to spot it. Daura thought she saw pointed ears on the shadows but their shape changed too often. But they never saw them move. Parean was nervously pacing and tried to speak but she but her finger to his lips. He shook his head violently and let go of her hand. He picked up a rock and threw it at the shadows. Daura tried to stop him; the shadows may not have seen them yet.
There was a sudden yelp when the rock struck. It did not sound human.
"Now, run for it," she hissed. She punched Parean on the arm as his reward for his foolishness. She prayed it would not cost them their lives.
The sudden noise of their flight was slight but it was enough to bring the trio of shadows to life and they fell in behind the fleeing pair. The pursuers did not speak and their footfalls were light and quick and they gained on their quarry. Parean and Daura ran in a straight line through the brush and held up their arms in front of them to shield their faces from the whipping branches. Then they began to change direction but their pursuers still gained on them. Parean noticed it and dropped off to one side and waited for the trio to catch up. He did not know what he was doing. He did not know why he had picked up the rock and thrown it. He just felt he had to. He told himself over and over. "You must fight or die, fight or die." He worked up an adrenaline rush and prepared to act in Daura's defense. He planned to jump them; he carried a short ornamental sword and held it ready but when they passed, his blood froze. He did not move to intercept them as he had planned; he did not move at all. He saw the sharp teeth and the feline eyes and they sped by him silently, ignoring him. The moment hung in his mind; the huge creatures with the gaping mouths lined with endless teeth that seemed to swallow even the darkness. They had never failed to catch their quarry according to the legends of his childhood. The lurking shadows waiting to take disobedient children away to eat them. His older sister always whispered to him of the Amogrihens waiting outside the window.