Fan Fiction ❯ Burning Bridges ❯ Beyond the Reach of Ties ( Chapter 14 )

Evening turned into night, and with the darkness, a sense of relief settled over Hardin as he sat alone, keeping his watch over the area. The knights would almost certainly not be prowling the area after dusk - they must know that those allied with the Dark had a distinct advantage over them when it came to navigating the blackness of night - and so they were likely safe until dawn. Kirrienne and Branla would probably wake not long after, and though Kirrienne might not be strong in the Dark, Branla's magic would make her a valuable ally. That would make the situation far less precarious for them all.

During the hours of daylight, Hardin's thoughts had been occupied with brainstorming defensive strategies, maneuvers that might prove effective if the knights had come near while the two women were still asleep, and he had to admit that he'd come up with nothing that would not likely have gotten him killed, and offered chances little better for his charges. But now that the blackness of night had bought them some time, and he knew that soon he would not be forced to fight off any attackers alone, more strategies were open to him.

He'd have to find out what precisely Branla and Kirrienne could do, he thought, as soon as they awakened. His own talent was not something that was useful in a battle, but some of those he'd witnessed in others among the brethren - illusions, levitation, even mindspeak - could definitely be used to their advantage. Before their battle with the templars, Branla had spoken of summoning; if she could summon as Sydney could, then that would make things much easier on them. And even if Kirri could cast only a few of the simplest spells, that too could be a help in a desperate situation.

Even so, he would have to wait to plot anything definite out - it would do no good to get ahead of himself, particularly when he knew so little of how the Dark and the magic worked. He might just end up formulating the perfect strategy, only to have it all be for naught when Branla informed him of something he hadn't known about what her limits were.

But then, the alternative to thinking about battle tactics was thinking about something else, and this was not something he wanted to do. Concealed in a hiding place much like those he'd slumbered in during the last few days, thoughts of Sydney came readily to mind. He missed the mage and all his silent companionship, despite the ruthless parting. He missed having the warmth of Sydney's thin frame lying at his side, the silky feel of fine hair spread across his shoulder, the unusual angles of a metal elbow pressed against his stomach, moving slightly in and out as light breaths fell upon his neck, lulling him to sleep.

Was it really so bad, he wondered, that Sydney had left him in such a way? It had been harsh, certainly, and very much unwelcome, but he knew by now that behind those cold eyes lay far more than the mage ever dared show. He may have been self-absorbed, heedless of Hardin's wishes, but it was not the same as selfishness. He must have had a reason...

Or maybe I just miss him. Damn it.

If he did have a reason, he could at least have taken a moment to explain himself better, or offer something more supportive than a kiss that was not reflected in his eyes. Even if he did trust Hardin to handle everything well, he had to know that Hardin did not share that assessment.

There was too much to think about. Instead of dwelling on it, Hardin forced himself to concentrate instead on his scrying. After hours of doing just this, he knew the surrounding area well, and since there was not much chance of danger, he occupied his thoughts with counting the paces that he was not actually making, as his spiritual avatar made the rounds. Then, after discovering himself nodding off, he thought better of the idea and opted to physically pace the area instead.

It was interesting, he thought, that in a sense it was safer to keep the rounds with the Sight. While scrying, he made no sounds or movements that could be detected by their pursuers, and he could be close to the two women should anything happen, no matter which direction the enemy might attack from, rather than chancing to be on the opposite side. That inspired an idea that intrigued him, and with a little effort and a lot of concentration, he found that he could indeed do what had just occurred to him; walking the south end of his chosen path, he scryed to the north, and watched the east with the Sight as his physical body circled up to the west. In essence, he could perform a double watch by himself, and on opposite sides of the camp. This amused him for a while - it was a shame that he'd not had such a talent back in his days with the PeaceGuard, for it could have proved incredibly useful.

He scryed upon the camp now and then as well, and upon discovering that Branla was awake, returned. She barely looked up at the rustling of the brush as he entered the small hollow. "Have you rested sufficiently?" he asked.

"Most likely not," she admitted with a shrug, keeping her voice low to avoid waking Kirrienne, "but I have rested. It is difficult to sleep for any length of time when you've become used to being pursued."

Hardin could relate to that too much, but he merely nodded. "Go back to sleep if you like. We should be safe here until daybreak at least - and honestly, perhaps it would be safest if we remained as still as possible until Sydney returns. We probably have food enough, if we ration it carefully, since he left..." Hardin frowned as a thought occurred to him; Sydney had left his pack, and so had taken no food with him.

Branla laughed quietly, following his logic. "Hardin, if he can take a sword through the chest and stand again, I imagine that he can go a day or so without food - even if he cannot use his wits to find some for himself."

"True enough." Glancing around, he found the stars were vanishing into the deep blue of the lightening sky, and he realized abruptly that it nearly was daybreak. "The knights may be on the prowl again soon. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to know exactly what you are capable of - your magic, your swordsmanship, and whatever talent the Dark has granted you. If the enemy comes upon us, they may well outnumber us, and if so, we will need whatever tricks or skills we possess."

"I supposed you'd get around to asking eventually," Branla mused, rising to stretch a little. "I believe I told you before, I am only a novice when it comes to the sword - perhaps you'd be willing to teach me a few things?"

"I'll consider it, if we survive this. Which means I'd appreciate you simply answering the questions, so we may better our chances."

The gruff rebuke made her laugh a little. "Naturally. As for magic, I've got a fair amount of talent, particularly in the elements of Light and Dark. You've already seen what I can do, of course: spells of healing, spells of destruction, a little boost for a fighter's physical strength. And, of course, you have seen how much I can manage before I tire."

"So that is all you can do?"

She regarded him with an amused look. "Is that not enough?"

"I hope that it is." Hardin shifted where he sat, to look at her as she seated herself again. "My meaning was... you mentioned summoning. Can you summon? Or..." He was such a novice in this area, he wasn't sure what to ask. "Or... do anything else through the Dark?"

At the mention of summoning, she shook her head. "Summoning is not a task most people can manage, for it takes great strength of will and a proper heart. I'm not sure if any now among us besides Sydney can call forth the Dark's minions... However, my talent has often been useful - I can speak with animals, in a way not unlike the mindspeak. That was how Kirri and I knew where to find you and Sydney, and how we knew we were being pursued, though we remained out of visual range."

Hardin had never heard of that talent before, and he thought it over for a moment. It could indeed be useful, he decided. "You can ask them to do things for you? To scout or spy?"

"Within reason. They will not act against instinct, and just as people do, sometimes they simply do not feel like answering your requests - I've met some very self-absorbed squirrels."

At first Hardin almost asked her to stop the joking, but then it occurred to him that she might actually be serious. Ever since he'd happened across Müllenkamp, he'd found that the world was considerably stranger than he'd ever imagined. Intrigued, he caught himself about to ask how exactly their thoughts were ordered, then realized it was irrelevant and forced himself to move on. "You said before that Kirrienne is not strong in the Dark. Does she have any magical ability at all?" That perhaps sounded intrusive, if not outright rude, and he amended it quickly. "Or is it inappropriate to ask such a question of anyone but her?"

"Some might say that it is," Branla replied, "but I do not think Kirri would mind. It is nigh impossible that anyone should have no magical ability whatsoever. In truth, magic is as innate a part of our being as physical strength, which we all have to a greater or lesser degree, though most do not recognize or cultivate the former as they do the latter."

Hardin nodded; he'd learned this much from Sydney's lessons. "So she can cast some spells, then?"

"Some simple ones, yes. Nothing that could be used to attack an enemy outright."

The blonde at her side stirred, and Branla looked down with a smile. "Ah, she must have heard us talking about her in her dreams. Good morning, Kirri."

Rubbing her eyes, Kirrienne yawned and sat up, momentarily startled at the sight of Hardin. "Oh... yes. I'd forgotten..." Even in the dim light, Hardin could see that she was already beginning to look tense again, at the reminder of their situation, but she put on a brave smile. "I slept well, Hardin - thank you for guarding us."

"It was no trouble." Not that he'd had a choice, really, but nothing had gone wrong, so he supposed it was an honest enough statement. "Kirrienne, if you're willing, I need to ask you a few questions, so that I might better know what we could do, should the knights come upon us..." She nodded in agreement, and so he continued. "First, what kinds of magic can you use?"

"Nothing spectacular, I'm afraid," she admitted, "but I can heal a wound or cleanse the body of poisons... not very useful, when I know enough of herb lore to do the same without the use of magic." She thought for a moment, then frowned thoughtfully. "Long ago, I learned a spell or two that could weaken a man or cause his armor to rust... but I have not used such spells in many years. When the brethren come under attack, I've merely stayed behind the fighters and mages, replenishing their strength and magic when they retreated for a moment, more often with potions than with spells."

"Potions?" Gods - once he'd thought Kirrienne the closest thing to a normal woman he might find in this new life of his, and even she made potions, like some witch out of a children's tale?

"Well, yes - I was an herbalist before I took up with Sydney, and so I already knew how to distill the essence of useful plants into medicines. After having joined the brethren, I learned of certain plants that renew mind and body... and distilled, the resulting draught is far more effective and less dangerous than the raw material."

There was something Hardin could use. "Do you know if these plants might grow in this area?"

"I imagine they might," Kirrienne said thoughtfully. "In the lower-lying areas, most likely. A good idea, Hardin - I've been so preoccupied, I did not think to look."

Good - something that could buy them some extra time, at the least, Hardin thought as he turned back to Branla. "I don't suppose the local wildlife would know...?"

"They're naught but animals," Branla reminded him with a shrug. "Such complex thought is just a bit beyond them, I fear."

"Then we shall look ourselves," Hardin decided. "Branla, are there any creatures nearby that would be suited to the task of keeping watch?"

"A few sparrows... sparrows are usually cooperative."

Birds keeping watch - and sparrows, at that... Hardin could not help but shake his head in astonishment at how absurd it was, and yet how brilliant at the same time. "Well then... Kirrienne, if you are willing, let us go look for these plants of yours after we've had our breakfast. Branla, you'll stay with our belongings, just in case. If your sparrows see anyone approaching, give a shout - we will not go far."

"It sounds sensible enough to me."

Kirrienne had nodded, and was already unpacking the leftovers of the food Maeta had given Sydney before they left the manor. "If it gives us a better chance of staying alive until Sydney returns, then of course I'm willing." She paused for a moment, smiling at him. "I will not feel unsafe wandering around even in these woods, I think, with you accompanying me."

"I'm glad." He was going to have to find a way to explain to her, somehow, about why he was not particularly responsive to the looks she was giving him, or the hints she was dropping. But then, at the moment he had more important things to think about, and he put it out of his mind.

Hardin spent most of the time they spent eating their breakfast in distracted silence, and much of the time he accompanied Kirrienne on her search for the plants she'd spoken of as well, despite her attempts to make conversation. Understanding that he had a great deal on his mind, she was not put off in the least, for which Hardin was grateful. A possible strategy for their defense had occurred to him just after they'd set out deeper into the forest, and he was going over it from every angle, searching out the weak points and trying to determine precisely how it could be implemented to its full potential.

He'd have to wait until they were back at the camp, though, before they could give it a trial run, and so finally he forced himself to ask questions, and tried to remain attentive to what Kirrienne was doing and saying; if these plants did what she said they did, having the basic knowledge of them would be useful. Upon the sight of them, and Kirrienne's confirmation that they were indeed what she had been looking for, he was surprised. He had been told long ago that these plants were not safe to eat, but she assured him that this was only true if one did not know how much they could handle. This plant had been used in Müllenkamp's rituals for centuries, to increase sensitivity to the elements and stimulate the mind, and to prove it, she popped one of the roots she'd just plucked into her mouth and swallowed before Hardin could say a word to stop her. No ill effects seemed to be forthcoming, true, though her breath quickened a bit and her eyes took on a strange look for a short time. Hardin still had much to learn, he decided.

Once they had gathered a fair amount of the plants and returned to the camp, Hardin was able to explain the plan he'd been developing to the two women. At the start of his explanation, Branla looked rather skeptical, but by the end, she had to admit that it was not only brilliant, but rather amusing as well. After a great deal of troubleshooting and several trial runs, the three of them managed to get the specifics straightened out, and their timing was near perfect. It was a good thing, he thought as he pressed the heel of his palm against his temples, for he was beginning to develop quite a headache.

Until Kirrienne suggested that he sleep, it didn't occur to him that the reason for the headache was utter exhaustion - he'd been awake now for nearly an entire day. Even so, he was reluctant to sleep while the day was hot and the knights were almost certainly on the move, but Kirrienne insisted, threatening to pin him beneath his bedding herself if he didn't let himself rest. It was only after Branla's assurance that there were enough small animals in the area to give them plenty of warning if anyone approached from any direction, and pointing out that the first stage of their plan was more up to herself and Kirrienne in any case, that he finally agreed and lay down to close his eyes for a time.

It was not much later that he felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake once more, and opened his eyes to find Branla looking down at him grimly. "A small group of the Blades are approaching from the north," she informed him.

Immediately he reached out with the Sight and found them, roughly two hundred paces away. The six knights definitely appeared to be searching, slashing at the brush with their weapons and eyeing the bare ground for footprints, and though not in full plate, they wore armor of dyed and stiffened leather, and were unquestionably equipped for battle.

Snapping out of the viewing, Hardin looked up to see that Kirrienne was already ready for her part, for due to her particular innate talent, his dark cloak hung eerily in the air just to the west of the clearing, dragging upon the ground as it moved off to the distance they'd chosen, hovering a short way off the ground. That had been the hardest part to get right when they'd done their trial runs; Kirrienne's attempts to levitate his cloak had levitated the entire garment, and that did not allow it to hang naturally. Finally they'd solved the problem by placing a small rock inside the hood of the cloak, and having Kirrienne concentrate on that instead, lifting the cloak by proxy. It was not perfect, but the knights were not going to get a good look at it anyhow, if all went as they'd planned.

"I have a few rabbits in place," Branla informed him, grinning. "They actually seem to be looking forward to this, the little rascals - so often they find themselves being chased by some creature or another, and never do their pursuers get what the rabbits think they deserve - but this time they shall! That in itself is enough incentive for them to aid us."

The repressed anger of small furry animals was simply too much for Hardin's groggy mind to wrap itself around, and so he simply rubbed the last of the sleep from his eyes and reached for his sword as he took another look at the approaching knights. "All right, it's almost time then... We don't have to get this perfect, I'll remind you - a man sees what he expects to see." With weapon in hand, he already felt much more awake, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "On my word..." With his physical eyes he saw the two women nod, and with the Sight he kept careful watch from just behind his hovering cloak, still hanging low to the ground. Indeed, Branla's rabbits were hunched nearby, ears swivelled behind them at the faint sound of rustling brush from the north, and their bodies tensed for flight. As the rustling grew audible to human ears as well, Hardin gave the order. "Go."

At his word, the rabbits took off running, crashing noisily through the brush as they angled to the southwest, straight away from the knights, who gave a shout as they saw the cloak rise and apparently begin to flee. Hardin mentally followed behind the hovering garment at a short distance, keeping his eyes mostly on the rabbits, and whispering corrections to Kirrienne as they dodged the trees and larger bushes in their path. "Left. Right. No, not that far - yes, that's it. Left."

The cloak followed in the wake of the rabbits' commotion, and the knights gave chase just as Hardin had expected them to. Before long, two of them pulled crossbows. Perfect. "Get ready to drop it," he whispered to Kirrienne, and she murmured quiet acknowledgement. "And Branla, are you ready?"

"Quite."

"All right then..." Turning his attention back to the hovering cloak and the pursuing knights, Hardin waited until a volley of bolts erupted, a few piercing the cloak. "...Now."

With Kirrienne's release, the cloak dropped to the ground, and the rabbits turned aside, disappearing quietly into the bushes. If what Branla had said was true, they were probably sitting in there to watch smugly, Hardin thought, and that vaguely disturbed him. "You can thank your rabbits, Branla - they did a wonderful job."

"It was no trouble - they enjoyed it," she whispered back. "Rabbits are pranksters by nature, you know."

Hardin was glad she'd not mentioned that before; if he'd known that, he'd have been worried that they might pull a fast one on them, and that would have been just one thing he'd have had to worry about. He shook his head in exasperation - being double-crossed by rabbits was the last thing he'd ever have considered even a day ago - and tensed to stand. "Branla..."

"Right." Branla had drawn her sword as well while they waited, and her grin had vanished into a look of intense concentration.

"Good luck, both of you," Kirrienne whispered anxiously, crouching down lower behind the bushes now that her part was finished.

Hardin gave her a nod. "Thank you. You know what to do, of course, if anything should happen..." It was her turn to nod - they'd been over this earlier as well - and Hardin turned his attention back to the knights, just now catching up to the fallen cloak. "Let's go."

Although she wasn't as well versed in woods lore as Hardin, Branla was light enough that she moved in near silence anyhow. Distracted by their "fallen prey", the knights were not paying any real attention, and it was an easy task to get closer, within the range of a spell. Hiding behind a tree, sword in hand, Branla gave Hardin a tense, brave nod, and he moved onward alone, circling around beside them. Of course, the knights were foolishly clustered together, he noted; he might not even have to show himself before they were all disposed of.

His back pressed against a nearby tree, he listened to the knights talking among themselves as he waited to make his move. Luckily, the one detail about the plan that left him wary apparently had caused no problems, for the knights knew more than he expected them to.

"Nay, the filth's dead, no doubt about it. If he could turn himself invisible, he'd never have let us see him to begin with."

"He's either dissolved, or he's fled," another knight pointed out, grimacing in disgust as he tucked the tip of his sword under the hood of the cloak, lifting the cloth to show his companions the holes from their crossbow bolts. "But with these... I'd put my money on dissolved."

"You know," the first said distastefully, "I hear they die like they do because of God's hatred for them. Their bodies are so full of the Dark's taint that they're not fit even for his worms to feed upon, and so he destroys them utterly; that is why they turn to Light."

"Ah, but I've heard that the Dark turns on anything weak," put in another. "At the first sign of injury, the Dark rushes in greedily to consume even its faithful servants, leaving only the tiny fragments of once-pure souls behind. 'Tis a sad thing, really - even they are victims in the end."

Some of his companions frowned at the near-sympathy, but before any of them could speak, tendrils of dark energy suddenly flowed forth into the midst of them, searing three of the knights and completely engulfing two more, who didn't even have time to scream before they hit the ground, lifeless. As the remaining Blades gave a startled shout, Hardin readied to strike. Another round of dark magic struck down a third knight as they scattered, and the three remaining closed in towards the source of the attack. Luckily, one of them had darted in such a direction that he passed just beside the tree Hardin had been hiding behind, and he easily stepped out to impale the Blade as he went by. The cry of the dying knight attracted the attention of the last two, one of whom fell victim to another spell from Branla while he was still distracted.

As for the last, he saw immediately that the larger threat came from the young woman who had just given away her location and rushed forward to attack before she could cast again. Instead of attempting it, Branla turned and ran, obviously aware that she didn't have the time for another spell. The knight was slow and clumsy in his rigid leathers, though, and between his superior mobility and longer legs, Hardin caught up to him long before he'd come close enough to strike Branla. Whirling, the knight lashed out with his sword, and Hardin blocked with his own, stopping the arc of the blade just short of his head.

It was up to him now, Hardin thought, for Branla would not cast a spell with him in such close proximity to their enemy; this was going to be a duel to the death. The Blade was better equipped and probably better trained, but he'd been caught off guard, whereas Hardin had been preparing for exactly this for the past few minutes. It evened the odds somewhat, and the two of them lunged and parried in a deadly exchange.

After a time, Hardin paused to collect himself as the knight did likewise. Both were breathing heavily, and Hardin took a moment to glance down at bare arms covered with small stinging gashes and scrapes he'd accumulated during the fight. He wished he had thought to grab his jacket before moving in, for the leather would have offered him more protection than the thin shirt he'd been sleeping in. It was too late now, however, and just as well, for he was already sweating and flushed from the exertion and the exhaustion.

The knight too had his share of shallow wounds, and no small amount of dents and slashes in his leather armor. Glaring out from below a bleeding gash across his forehead, the young man, not much older than Hardin himself and a hand and a half shorter, whirled his sword and set himself defensively. "So Müllenkamp isn't comprised entirely of cowards hiding behind their magic, after all," he panted. "So one of you understands a fair fight."

"None of us would need to hide behind anything, were we not being sought for the sake of prejudice and crimes we did not commit," Hardin replied, settling into a defensive stance as well.

The knight smirked. "You'd have to take that up with my commander - I simply do as I am told. And what I have been told is that you and your fellows are contaminating the land with violence and false teachings; therefore, you are to be cleansed."

"Us?" Hardin snorted. "The brethren are contaminating the land with violence? Who was it who shot what they assumed to be a fleeing man in the back with their crossbows?"

"So that was some trickery - not bad, at that. I'll refrain from asking how you managed it, for I don't want to taint my ears with the details of your obscene arts." With no warning, the knight lunged forward again, his sword swinging downward at Hardin's left knee.

Hardin jumped back in surprise, blocking, but not quickly enough to escape a deep gouge in his leg. It was not severe enough to hinder him, though, and he responded instinctively, spinning the sword back up to clash against the knight's, locking together only a finger's width from his face as the knight struck again. Turning the blade sideways, Hardin put his left hand upon the flat of it and pushed, knocking the knight off balance before he had a chance to set himself. As the knight stumbled backwards, Hardin aimed another blow at his side, and was only barely stopped in time as the knight made a weak block.

Not allowing him to recover, Hardin kept up the offensive, striking again and again, and occasionally hitting his mark, though never when it really would have counted for something. From most opponents, he'd have expected a frustrated, wild strike before too long, but one so well-trained as the knights knew to remain patient, to keep concentrating on defense until they had found an opening or the attacker had worn himself out. Fortunately, blocking Hardin's attacks seemed to be tiring the knight as quickly as Hardin was tiring himself, and his defense became weaker and more careless as their duel wore on. Yielding to the taller man's relentlessness, he gave up his ground repeatedly, backing away cautiously as Hardin persisted.

Finally, having driven the knight back for quite some distance, Hardin found his chance. Summoning up as much energy as he could muster, he attacked with new ferocity, sending the knight leaping backwards to avoid the blows. Unfortunately for the knight, a young fallen tree rested at calfs height just behind him, catching his leg and sending him sprawling to the ground, one knee still hooked over the slim trunk. Before he could right himself, Hardin had leapt over the obstacle and put his sword through the knight's armor and the heart beneath.

Still tense from the extended battle, he jerked his weapon free and instinctively raised it as he whirled towards the sound of approaching footsteps, but quickly enough found that it was only Branla. Lowering the sword, he smiled tiredly at the young woman. "Are you injured?"

"Not in the slightest," she replied, looking him over as he wiped the blood from his blade on the fallen knight's cloak. "You, however, have gathered quite the collection of wounds."

"Nothing serious," he told her, but she had already begun speaking the words of a spell. As on the road from Leá Monde, he felt the healing energy settle upon him, seeping into him and soothing away the stinging pain of myriad small injuries he hadn't even noticed until they were gone.

"This plan of yours seems to have worked quite nicely after all," she mused as he sagged against the trunk of a nearby tree, letting his weariness overtake him for a moment while he caught his breath. "And with no survivors to tell what has happened, we can indeed use it over and over again. Though I suppose I should tell you that you're a fool for allowing yourself to get caught in a duel with one of the Blades - you do know that they're one of the most highly trained forces in the kingdom, do you not?"

"What choice did I have?"

"You could have turned and run as soon as you got his attention away from me, leaving me enough space to use my magic against him. Honestly, Hardin, if you had gotten yourself killed by that knight, where would that leave Kirri and I?" she added with a fond smile as he pulled himself up again, eyeing her with mock exasperation before going to retrieve his cloak from the place where it had fallen. "I must say that I'm impressed, though - you stood up remarkably well against him, not backing down even for a moment." Her smile grew softer, and her voice quieter. "Your swordsmanship is on a level with Padric's, I would say, and I do not say it lightly."

"...I'm sure you would not." Thoughts of their old friend calmed him, and Hardin sheathed his sword. "Thank you."

"So then, what comes next?" Branla inquired. "Shall we find a way to dispose of the bodies, or leave them where they lie?"

"Leave them," Hardin said without hesitation; he'd been considering their next move since the conception of this plan. "We'll be moving on."

"Branla! Hardin!" The call from behind him cut off his explanation, and he turned to see Kirrienne approaching, a relieved smile upon her lips. "Everything went well? Neither of you is hurt?"

"A few minor cuts on my part," Hardin assured her, "but Branla's magic has already taken care of them."

Kirrienne gave the smaller woman a slightly exasperated frown. "Branla, you should have left it to me... your magic could be put to better use than a simple spell that even I can handle."

"Not at the moment," Branla pointed out. "It seems that there are no more Blades in the immediate area, so I should have plenty of time to regain my strength before it is needed again. And even if I do not, I still have the roots you gave me." Hardin had a few of the healing plants in a small sack at his waist as well, but still wary, he didn't intend to use them unless he was desperate.

"We'll be moving on," he repeated, continuing from where he'd left off. "If we stay here, even remaining undiscovered, someone might come across the bodies and become suspicious. And where could we dispose of them that they could not be stumbled across by someone searching diligently, as the knights already have been doing?"

"And Sydney should be able to find us again easily no matter where we go," Branla put in. "He found us before, after all."

Kirrienne nodded. "I'll go get our belongings together," she told them, hurrying back to the campsite.

Branla began to follow her, but Hardin called out softly for her to wait a moment. Something had just occurred to him as he'd stared down at the three burnt bodies that had surrounded his cloak. "Have you ever used a crossbow before?" he asked.

"Hmm... no," she admitted, looking down at the fallen knights as he was doing. Catching on, she lifted her eyes to his and gave him a mischievous smile. "I'm sure that Kirri and I could learn, given proper motivation. And this situation is nothing if not motivating."

"I thought you might say that." Kneeling down, Hardin smothered his revulsion at the smell of burnt flesh and appropriated the two weapons from where they had fallen, not far from the knights' fingers, and gathered their strappings and bolts as well. A moment later, he picked up the hand mace that the third knight had carried as well, and went to gather any weapons he could find from the other three. If they should come across any of the other brethren fleeing the knights, it would be wise to arm them as well. Besides, the knight he'd engaged had carried a much finer sword than the one he'd stolen from a prison guard, and Hardin hefted it in his hand, testing the weight and balance. Just as he'd suspected, it was near flawless, and he belted it to his own waist before handing one of the crossbows and the accompanying quiver over to Branla.

The young woman looked it over, peering at the mechanisms with interest before slipping the strap across her shoulder. "It doesn't look too difficult," she noted.

"It isn't. The real difficulty lies in aiming - judging distances, anticipating a moving target, allowing for the wind, and so on." Hesitating to think about it for a moment, he nodded to himself. "I'll teach the two of you as much as I can, when we find a new place to stay."

Seeing the way the young woman raised the weapon and stared down the haft appraisingly before replacing it on the leather strappings, Hardin decided he liked this idea a great deal.

It was a tense situation to be hunted, of course, but for once Hardin found himself feeling quite good despite his exhaustion. They had no real need to hurry, and in fact were moving slowly so that they might spy out an appropriate hiding place, so he taught the two women the basics of how to load, aim, and fire a crossbow while they walked. Practicing could be done while they were on the move as well, as they fired a short distance ahead of them, gathering the bolts as they went past without halting for more than a moment or two. Once they'd found a hollow beneath a small, crooked tree, which left them barely visible through the branches that hung down to the ground, they made camp again.

By this time it was growing late, and again Branla and Kirrienne insisted that Hardin get some sleep, as he'd been awakened earlier by the arrival of the Blades. It was like having a mother again, or perhaps two, he thought wryly as he yielded to their insistance. But then again, upon waking he spent an hour or so instructing Branla in swordplay as he'd promised, and that was not the sort of thing a mother would have done - at least, not where he came from.

The two women turned in for the night when they were through, but this time Hardin was not troubled as he sat and kept watch. This was something he was good at - something he could understand. Instructing others in the use of weapons, strategizing, scouting and keeping the night watch - he felt much more in his element than he had for the entire time he'd been with Müllenkamp. All the talk of magic, and the strange talents granted by the Dark, had been something completely foreign. He'd grown up with swords, crossbows, and the decisions of how and when to use them to their best advantage. In fact, it was almost a relief to make a meal almost entirely of the sour wild apples and greens that Kirrienne had gathered while he slept, for he'd scavenged the same plenty of times while in the field.

Another half dozen Blades wandered near the next morning, before they'd even finished eating their breakfast. This time, all three were awake and rested, and having already gone through the maneuver once before, they dispatched the Blades without the slightest difficulty. In fact, showing initiative that momentarily startled Hardin, Kirrienne dropped the last one with her crossbow as he tried to rush Hardin. Seeing the look of surprise on Hardin's face, she simply smiled and told him she'd had to - he was too important to risk losing in another duel.

As they moved on again, Hardin continued instructing the two women in the use of their weapons, scouting before and behind them with the Sight. They continued to improve their accuracy, and were unexpectedly given a chance to try their aim on moving targets - another handful of Blades crossed their path shortly after midday. Having been given advance warning by his unnatural means of scouting, Hardin borrowed Branla's crossbow as they ducked into the bushes, for unlike Kirrienne and himself, she had another projectile weapon in her magic. The knights fell almost instantly, and the three of them continued on without incident.

Hardin continued to gather the weapons of the knights they felled, opting to drop one of the bedrolls to make room in his pack. After all, someone was always awake to keep watch, so they never needed more than two at a time. And even if the weapons had no use at the moment, if nothing else, they could fetch a nice price with which to buy food for the brethren. Hardin knew from experience that there were plenty of traders who would not ask where the fine weapons had come from.

But something else was beginning to take shape in his mind, as he and his unlikely squadron dispatched party after party of trained knights with no trouble whatsoever. He was a fairly adept swordsman, but certainly no match for the Blades. Branla and Kirrienne had little experience with weapons at all. It was the magic and their talents that provided them with the advantage, and that combined with the indirectness of their approach made their physical attacks far more effective.

True, Sydney already used the tactic of swordplay combined with sorcery when the brethren came under attack... but seeing what just three people could do, only one of whom actually knew a great deal of magic, what could the brethren do all together if they took the initiative? Rather than scatter and run from the Blades and the king's men, could they not put an end to this corruption once and for all? These supposed upholders of justice not only slaughtered the helpless, but spread lies across the land - lies about the brethren... and they'd lied to Hardin personally, leaving him in a dungeon during the last precious days of his little brother's life. Though his grief had lessened considerably since he'd finally accepted Philip's death, he'd found that the frustration over his helplessness and the lies he'd been told still smoldered bitterly within.

As tired as he was from the running and fighting and not much sleeping, when they stopped for the night finally, and he took his rest before the two women, he merely feigned sleep. The ideas swirling in his mind would not stop, and that was fine with him. For once, they were not distressing thoughts of Sydney, but thoughts of what could be done to bring about a real change in the land. He would have to gather more knowledge first, of course, and there was no guarantee that anyone else would agree to do likewise, but the idea that he might be able to set at least some things right burned impatiently in his mind, leaving him restless.

It was just as well that he did not sleep, for not long after sunset, Branla's "scouts" reported more humans approaching - in fact coming straight towards them - and Kirrienne shook him out of his blankets to once more put their scheme into effect. It didn't overly surprise him that the knights had decided to pursue them by night now as well - he and the two women had killed several of their men by this time, and whoever was in charge would certainly have taken notice, even if they had not yet come across the bodies.

But the handful of people fumbling through the darkness were not knights after all, they discovered as Hardin invisibly followed their approach. They were primarily unarmed, and wore no armor - and after a moment, Hardin recognized them by their voices as other followers of Sydney's. Abandoning their stealth manuevers, he and the two women rose to meet them, showing them to the place they'd chosen for the night's stop.

Hardin's first question was whether any of them were familiar with any sort of weapon. Burchard had once carried a sword, while Adela professed to be handy enough with a bow, and so the appropriate weapons were taken from the pack Hardin carried. As for the other two, Landrik was a fairly accomplished mage - and the last was Henna, too frail for either battle or spellcasting. However, Hardin thought, she would serve another use, for it was her sensitivity to the minds of others which had allowed the others to find his small party when they drew close.

Now that they numbered seven rather than three - most armed, some with magical aptitude, and all with personal talents - there was little worry of them being overwhelmed by their foes, so long as they were not taken unaware. Between Hardin, Branla, and Henna, that was unlikely to happen. They no longer needed to take so much care of when they moved, or where they slept, for they had enough power and the proper tactics to take out half a dozen knights before they were even seen.

And this was where Henna entered into Hardin's idea. If she had found them by way of her familiarity with Branla and Kirrienne, perhaps she could lead them to others, and they might gather more of the brethren, increasing their power further. Six weapons still remained in Hardin's pack to be distributed to those who might be able to use them, or whoever might be trained to use them, and when they happened across another squadron of knights the next day, that number increased to eleven.

This was the third day since Sydney had left Kirrienne and Branla in Hardin's care, and Hardin wondered at the wisdom of having moved so much since that time. Sydney had said that he would return in a few days, but if Hardin was far from where they had parted ways, that might not be the case. It might take him a bit longer to find them... but the idea of being alone, without his guidance, didn't trouble Hardin nearly so much as it had initially. He'd managed this long - and now that their number had increased, and he'd been given the possibility of increasing it further, it seemed unlikely that Sydney's considerable magic was necessary for their defense at the moment. As for the other reasons he wished Sydney to return, now that Hardin was in command of what amounted to a small stealth team, he firmly told himself that he didn't have time to waste thinking about such things.

But, of course, he did anyhow. Now that he was not constantly on guard, worrying about their next move, his mind was sometimes freed to wander where it might. During the nights, when he took second watch, he found himself wondering where Sydney was and what he might be doing. Was he keeping watch over some of his followers as well? Or was he perhaps sleeping, his rest troubled by the visions that so often came to him? It pained Hardin to think that Sydney might be lying alone, silently crying in his sleep with no one to be his comfort when he woke.

The night after Henna found them, Hardin gave in to his curiosity just once, wondering if Sydney was close enough that he might find them soon. Sydney must have been some distance away, he decided, for it was difficult to get a definite fix as he scryed for Sydney's presence, and the vision was faint, almost blurred, when it came. Sydney was not sleeping, but neither did he appear to be going anywhere; he stood somewhere in the forest, one hand wrapped around the crook of a young tree as he gazed through the thin branches. His face held no expression, save for eyes that were vaguely troubled, and it seemed as though he was simply deep in thought.

Regardless, Hardin wished he had not looked. He hadn't been overly anxious before, but seeing Sydney again brought back all his former desires and frustrations. He let the vision remain, almost clinging to the sight of Sydney, wanting badly to reach out and touch the hair that blew with such grace in the gentle breeze. Until Henna startled him with her approach, coming to tell him that she sensed more of the brethren a short ways to the south, Hardin didn't recall that he was supposed to be keeping watch.

Thoroughly disgusted with his carelessness, Hardin mentally vowed that he would not do such a thing again, for he had far more important things to do than indulge his own selfish whims. After waking a few of those with him to go with Henna and meet their brethren, Hardin forced himself to return to his watch with renewed detail, examining every tree, every bush large enough for a man to hide within, through the Sight.

Now they were a party of ten, though they should have been twelve, had the knights not likely cut down two of the newcomers' group the evening before. The three Henna had sensed had simply run, while the two fighters with them had remained behind to cover them, just as had happened with Branla and Kirrienne's group, and they were weary and upset when they arrived. Henna said she felt no traces of anyone else following after them, and Hardin's anger grew deeper. As their number was still fairly small, and three were desperately in need of rest, he could not split them in two to go back and either rescue their companions or exact vengeance; all they could do was rub out their tracks to throw off their pursuers, and wait.

They remained where they were for much of that day, until Henna reported knights in the vicinity, off to the west and approaching quickly. The Sight confirmed that it was another half-dozen, and Hardin ordered the others to make ready for a quick assault. With so many, and another skilled spellcaster added just in the last night, even if the knights were not deceived by the trick with the cloak and the animals, they weren't likely to be much of a challenge.

Something was wrong, though, Henna told Hardin when he and the others returned after dispatching the squadron. These knights had felt more cautious, and yet more confident. It seemed that they knew what was happening, and Hardin nodded; considering the number of knights that they'd killed in the past few days, it was not surprising that whoever led the hunt had spread the word when so many had either not returned or been found dead and stripped of weapons. It was also not surprising that they might have intensified their search, concentrating their numbers upon the surrounding area, which probably was the reason behind these last knights' confidence.

This did nothing to increase Hardin's confidence, of course. Though he would have liked very much to turn southwest in search of the two missing brethren, he was no fool. When they moved on, this time it was to the east - back towards the direction where he had last seen Sydney.