Off Center (The Lament) (29 page)

Clark
interrupted her, his voice soft.

"Don't.
Pran and I probably won't be able to find the trail at all. We'll ride for a week
out, and then meet back up with you, our due diligence done. There's probably something
else going on, and this is simply an excuse to delay our arrival into the Capital.
Even in a slow wagon, they'll be so far gone that we won't easily find them now.
Not with two of us on horseback. Provided we can get horses, that is."

Pran
made a face.

"I've
never been on a horse in my life. It would be quicker for me to lead one than try
to ride, I bet."

That
turned the conversation to first how to ride, and then to when they'd be leaving
and from where. A town was picked to the west of Pumpkin Hollow by about forty kilometers.
That was the figure that the men might have made in the time they'd had, in a heavy
wagon that could only be pulled by one horse at a time. If they hadn't just gotten
some saddles and ridden off. In that case, well, it was probably the case and they
simply weren't going to find them. Everyone knew that, but Clark still insisted
that they go.

When
they finally moved to leave the room, he clapped her on the shoulder.

"If
nothing else you'll learn to ride. A Bard should know horses. This isn't the best
time to be traveling, but it's not the worst either, as long as we aren't actually
up in the mountains. It will be fun. Like camping."

Remembering
her last bit of camping, with Mara, she shuddered and hugged her arms to her body.

"So
no sleep the whole time and cold, dark nights of warming meditation, while sitting
up?"

"Exactly!
Who could ask for anything more than that? You'll want some liniment. I bet that
Doctor Millis will have something for saddle sores. Best to prepare for it and get
some for me as well. I know how to ride, but that's different than doing it all
the time."

Then
he patted her back again, this time to move her along. Sighing she went to find
the Doc, since drugging herself might be the only way to get through the whole thing.
He wasn't hard to find, just sitting in his office, talking to a woman with the
door open. She was one of the crew people. A ship's hand.

"So
take this, one each morning, for ten days. Then come see me again. It should do
the trick. It's good that you came in early, it will save complications later."
He passed a small paper envelope to the woman and looked over to see Pran and smiled.

"Ah,
just in time. Take them all." This last bit was spoken to the woman that had
gotten up to leave. She was thin and decently nice looking, with long dark hair
that made Pran feel a twinge of envy. She didn't touch her own hair though, and
the woman smiled at her, which was nice.

When
she left the Doctor gestured to the door, which was still open and didn't speak
until it was closed.

"What
can I do for you, Pran?"

She
grinned, "liniment for upcoming saddle sores and any information you might
have about where Zeke and Will Butcher might have headed? For some unknown reason
Guardian Clark and I are being sent to try and round them up. Any ideas?"

The
old man looked at her for a long time, and then shrugged.

"Many,
but I don't know that telling you is a good idea. Liniment I have however. Plenty
of it."

She
let herself be contented with that.

After
all, she wouldn't have said where the men were going to their potential captors
either.

Saddle
sores, she understood after four hours of riding, weren't a joke at all. Pran felt
like her legs were being ripped apart at the hips too, which no one had mentioned
at all, when they were speaking about the coming discomfort. The only good part
about the trip was that, instead of camping out, they were actually stopping in
the local towns, and staying at inns, when they could.

That
wasn't for their comfort, Clark assured her, making sure he seemed very dry about
the fact the whole time. It was all about finding information. That part was pretty
bizarre to her. Why were they really looking for information, about men they knew
wouldn't be anywhere near there?

The
large Guardian laughed at her for asking.

"Because,"
he grumbled at her as they rode toward the small village of Humboldt, which didn't
seem worth the trip at all. "Real or not, we were assigned a task. My guess
is that we aren't really supposed to find anything, but that isn't the job at hand.
We have to try, and really do our best, since that's what will be expected of us.
Why else send us to look for them?"

Pran
rode for a bit, the very gentle and easy to ride horse she had just following along
with Clark's black and white plow creature. Calling that thing ahead of her a horse
was a bit too far afield, she decided, since it was a beast capable of carrying
the man at all. Hers was older and placid, but looked like a horse was supposed
to. Not shaggy and rough at all, but decently sleek and just starting to get her
dark winter coat in.

After
a while she screwed up her face, knowing that asking the same question again wasn't
likely to get a different answer, but still not really understanding why she was
there at all. She got about halfway through the line this time before the man interrupted
her, his voice still gentle.

"Who
knows? I've been thinking about it and it might be anything. You could have been
sent along just to keep me company for all we know. Or, and this is my best guess,
so take it to heart, it might be that we're supposed to be delayed in our research
of the High Council. Why? I don't know the situation on the ground there at all,
so I couldn't tell you. If you're out here however, then you can't magically show
up without me. It isn't the most brilliant idea that I've ever heard, but we can't
know what Saran and Clarice have going on."

She
decided to stop asking. After all she was going to have all that whining to do later
and pushing Clark into annoyance now wasn't a great plan. Not that she was really
going to complain all
that
much. It wasn't going to help after all. She adjusted
the way her instruments were sitting on the horse. That part was funny, but everyone
had suggested she bring them along. Including Bard Benjamin and First Mate Paul.
Even Mara had suggested she be ready to play.

In
a way, that was kind of reassuring, since it was at least something she could do,
and if they needed a disguise, they could pretend to be traveling Bards, seeking
employment. That happened, right?

As
it turned out, it was part of how they were paying for the inn. The owner had come
to meet them, and suggested that, if the young man could play at all, that a room
could be traded for the service. Pran rolled her eyes.

"Girl."
She waited for the man to blush a bit and then wrinkled her nose at him, smiling
cutely. After all, he hadn't meant to be insulting. He'd just lucked into it. "As
for playing, well, would you like to hear for yourself?"

It
was nearly the first thing that they'd done, going into Humboldt and this was the
second person they talked to, but already Pran was making music. It was kind of
rewarding, even if she had to play standing up, the pain from having ridden for
hours already taking her.

After
three songs they had a room, and an offer to stay for the winter. The whole thing.
Just on the condition that she play every night for them there. Before she could
say no, the man, who was older and a bit grizzled, clapped twice.

"It
comes with meals. We don't need a guard here, but the village could use one, for
the whole thing. We've had some shifty sorts in lately. A few days ago we had two
men traveling together, what didn't even know where they were going! Just going,
they said. Like that makes any sense?"

Pran
nodded, and started to finger a light tune, while Clark asked a low voiced question.

"Two
men you say? One with a full beard, in dark color and the other with a bit of stubble?"
Stroking his cheek he got the idea across well enough.

The
man in front of them actually clapped twice.

"That's
right. Friends of yours? They didn't say they were waiting for anyone in particular."

Pran
shrugged.

"Did
they still have that ridiculously heavy wagon with them? We both figured they'd
go to horse back as soon as they could, but they aren't well traveled, I don't believe.
It might not have occurred to them." The whole time she kept playing a relaxing
little ditty, the guitar strings barely whispering. It wasn't that complex, but
it made good background music for the conversation. It seemed less sinister that
way, like they were really just asking after some friends.

"That's
them! Still had that wagon too, last I seen. Left, oh, three days ago? So, do you
want the place for the winter?" He seemed hopeful, as if she might say yes.

"It's
a kind offer. We need to find our friends, but perhaps in a week or so? Provided
no one else comes along that can fill the position, I mean?" Pran said it gently,
and the man shook his head.

"Doubtful
that will happen. You're good, for one so young. Better than we normally see around
these parts. Do you need to run out right at the moment? You could stay the night...
We have a nice mutton stew and a berry pie for desert?"

It
sounded very nice. For one thing, Pran was nearly certain that the chairs in the
place wouldn't be moving, shifting side to side painfully, but Clark had to go and
ruin it, laughing and pulling her out without saying much more at all. The only
thing he asked was which way the wagon headed. The inn keeper didn't know, but they
asked on the way out of the tiny village and two people pointed the same way. Out
to the West. The opposite way to what they came in by, on the same stone street.

It
hurt a lot worse now, riding. They did it, and Clark didn't mention being in horrid
pain, so she kept her mouth shut and kept going. It was another several hours later,
nearly four more, that Clark held up a finger to his mouth and pointed off to the
side of the road, into some woods. There were cart tracks. Except they weren't from
a cart at all, being far too wide for that. It took a few seconds, but Clark signaled
that he wanted her to get off the horse, and wait for him there, while he moved
into the woods.

At
least she figured that was the case. She liked the sound of it better than her going
to get the men herself. Not that she was afraid of them. They were, after a fashion,
known to her and while they might not be perfect, she didn't think they'd hurt her
just for sport. To escape? Oh,
that
they'd do. Anyone might. Not just for
fun. Not that she knew about at least.

Clark
was off his steed and into the brush silently, vanishing instantly, but she managed
to catch the reins of his huge beast, and was down herself quickly enough, by the
simple expedient of falling from her own mount. It was a bit awkward, but she mainly
landed on her feet and the searing pain from her crotch was only that. Pain. It
wasn't anything she couldn't handle.

She
really expected Clark to just come back, probably in a few minutes. After about
half an hour she started to wonder what he'd found. Maybe there was a road that
led onward? Or the men had built a camp? She just stood there, holding the horses
in place, hoping it would be ended soon enough. As it was, they were going to end
up camping out, which was a thing she wasn't looking forward to at all. Not compared
to a relatively toasty and clean looking inn.

It
wasn't until dark that she realized something had gone wrong. The Guardian should
have been back by then, but he simply wasn't. Tying the horses to a bush, Pran set
to follow along with where the tracks led. It took longer than she thought it might,
since once she worked past the brush and a few bends in the undergrowth, there was
an actual road of sorts. More like a dirt path. Something real though, not just
what animals might have made.

Following
it by feel as much as sight, she found the small camp. It was interesting, in that
it had clearly been set up for a while. There were three small buildings, and while
they didn't have the feeling of being lived in, there was smoke coming from one
of the chimneys. That and voices from that general direction.

Pran
took a deep breath and then hid under a bush on her stomach. There was a clearing
between her and the tiny shack, made of dirt with a few rocks strewn around for
affect. She couldn't make out what was being said particularly, and she really sort
of wished that she'd been allowed to bring a weapon with her. Clark had his kinetic
pistol, but the air rifle belonged to The Lament, so she hadn't been able to bring
it along. Since no one had figured on them getting this close to anyone...

Really,
it was a mistake, wasn't it? She didn't even have a stick with her. There was nothing
in the underbrush where she was either and no rocks to use as throwing weapons.

Suddenly
the activity from inside the dwelling picked up and became louder.