The sound of the match shredded her nerves. She smoked greedily and nervously and stayed waiting for the trembling to dissipate. Thoughts were bouncing in her brain.
Ingrandor looked at her and raised a brow. ”What is it?”
Hellrien choked on her pipe smoke and stirred back to reality. ”Nothing. Just nerves. You know how it is in this business - it never gets any easier.”
”That is true.”
”Shall we then?”
”After you. But maybe it's not wise to do it with the light.”
”What light?”
”The pipe if you are going to smoke.”
”Oh. Right.” Hellrien knocked the ashes from the chamber of her pipe onto the patio and walked away, stopping on the top of the stairs. The night was dark and clear, the sky was full of stars. Wind howled on the corners and shook the rows of corn. Hellrien directed her steps towards the corn and Ingrandor followed.
Hellrien walked past Crampbark and glanced at him. Crampbark looked back with a malicious and knowing smile in his eyes. He winked at Hellrien. Ingrandor smirked as he looked at the man and patted his mace. Hellrien shrugged and walked past him.
They left the farm behind them and headed south at walking speed. Hellrien sensed the eyes of Rose, foreman Rosethorn and Crampbark on her back. For a moment she felt such a fierce cramp in her stomach that a grunt escaped from her lips. Hunching her shoulders slightly she cursed in her mind, soundlessly and helplessly. It was not the first time she had faced overwhelming odds, but for every time she had managed to cheat death she knew it had become closer. She wondered if she was beginning to lose it, like so many before her. In this business, if you lived long enough, it was the nerves that failed first.
”Which direction should we approach them from?” she asked to distract her thoughts.
”Let's go from the back and see what is going on first and then we can change direction.”
They could already see the outlines of the bridge and the terrible fear began to gradually pour out from her. It was replaced by desperate optimism – optimism she knew to be just as false as the sense of security a sword could bring. Slowly they continued their walk onto the bridge and stopped there to gaze at what was left of the farm.
”There it is”, Hellrien said. ”No lights in the windows. Seems abandoned.”
”Or that is what they want us to think.”
”Not much left of the windmill. Burned to the ground.”
”Let's walk around.”
They crossed the bridge and sneaked around the fences, heading towards an enormous tree that could give them both cover and a view to the farmhouse. Ingrandor knelt next to the tree and Hellrien peered over his head, looking for sounds of life. Everything seemed quiet. There was no movement anywhere.
”I don't like this”, Ingrandor said.
”Any ideas?”
”We waited all night to get attacked and he came alone and we have him. We wait for them to make a move and they don't seem to be here”, Ingrandor complained. Let's see if there are any tracks on the ground, we might find signs of them moving. I hope the farm won't get attacked in our absence.”
”Okay.”
Crouching down, Ingrandor walked next to the path nearby, staying as close to the ground as he could, hoping to be able to spot any possible tracks through the darkness.
”Here.”
Hellrien crouched down next to him. It was the same thing she had seen during their first visit to the Dogwood’s farm.
”Old cart-tracks. I spotted them earlier. Going westward.”
”Nothing new then”, Ingrandor said. ”How old do you reckon?”
”These tracks have been on the making for a while. Heavy carts have been ridden through here, like a merchant-road.”
”I see”, said Ingrandor. ”Let's look at the house again then.”
”Maybe check the yard? They were running all over it last night.”
”Why not”, said Ingrandor. ”Though it'll be mixed tracks.”
The mercenaries climbed the fence to check the paddock. Hellrien studied the trampled grass while Ingrandor leaned against the fence and looked at her, hand resting on his mace.
”Yeah, they've been running back and forth here, trying to put out the fire”, Hellrien said.
”Let’s look better.”
Ingrandor looked at the house, then at the cart that had been previously laden with heavy crates they had tampered with the day before. The cart was now empty. Ingrandor’s gaze drifted at the ground as well. The farmhouse seemed empty. There was no movement, no sounds, no lights in the windows.
”Looks abandoned”, Hellrien said.
Ingrandor jumped over the fence and inspected the cart and the path that led towards a small bridge for tracks. It seemed that the cart had been pulled here over the bridge from the Greenway. The yard was full of footprints going back and forth, but as he walked closer to the grass he spotted something interesting: many sets of fairly fresh footprints going to the meadow and heading towards the high ridge in the south.
”Hmm”, he pondered. ”What’s this?”
Ingrandor followed the tracks as well as he could see them in the dark, and Hellrien followed. As they advanced it seemed that the footprints weren’t actually climbing to the top of the ridge, but going around it where the ridge abruptly stopped in the west. Coming closer to the edge of the ridge they started hearing faint voices of a conversation. Hellrien went down on her knees and started crawling up the slope, towards the top of the ridge where it ended into a steep precipice. The voices seemed to be coming from down there…
When she had reached the top of the ridge and peeked over it she could clearly see several dark figures huddled around a campfire or standing near it. It was a great site for a camp, sheltered by the long, abrupt rock face from the east with plenty of leafy trees to give cover to the other side. She noticed some tents and crates littered around the campsite. Immediately she recognized Seyton Redweed’s white-blond hair. The fear groped her now more intensely than before. Sweat streamed down her face in ice cold trickles, it stung her eyes and burned her parched lips. Ingrandor knelt down next to her, his hand ready on the mace.
”I count seven of them”, Hellrien whispered. ”No sign of Toadflax.”
Ingrandor nodded and looked around. ”That's not many of them.”
The wind grasped Hellrien’s hat, and she fumbled instinctively it’s top so that the wind wouldn’t blow it straight onto Seyton Redweed’s lap.
”So how do we go about this?”
”If we had two or three more we could take them. Let's see if we can listen to their plans.”
Ingrandor leaned closer to listen in. The wind carried fragments of a conversation to the sellswords’ ears.
”...Crampbark is bound to be dead, right? So what now?”
”Who cares about Crampbark anymore? The whole plan is ruined... the equipment... gone... Toadflax left...”
”So what do we do? Back to Ost Forod?”
”If only I knew how to use a bow and had one...” Ingrandor whispered.
”We can't let them go, not after what they did”, said Seyton Redweed’s soft but confident voice. ”We will burn the Thornley farm, kill everyone there. Especially the sellswords.”
”I'm pretty decent with a bow”, Hellrien whispered to Ingrandor. ”Took one with me too.”
”If you are fast enough to kill two or three and we separate them... It's risky though.”
”I’m up for it”, Hellrien whispered. ”Your call, if you want to proceed.”
”It's seven and we are two. Every shot must count and I don't have a bow.”
Hellrien crawled a little to the left to see if she could find a better vantage point. At no time could she see more than three or four of them at a time from all the trees, and there were plenty of things to hide behind. She could see no way to drop more than one of them with a surprise shot.
”It’s suicide if we fight”, Ingrandor seemed to agree. ”They want to come. We can separate them and take them down one by one.
”I'm pretty sure I can get one, but others may scramble for cover immediately”, Hellrien said quietly. The wind blew intensely. Sweat nearly blinded her eyes.
”Yes and we'll be in trouble. Let's go back and wait”, Ingrandor opined.
”Tomorrow morning”, Hellrien heard Seyton speak, ”we ride out and attack Thornley's...” The wind cut the rest of the sentence. Ingrandor folded his arms.
”Let's set traps”, he said. ”And find a vantage point for you to use the bow early on to take down as many as you can. Let's see if it is challenging at last!”
”Alright.” Hellrien backed out from the edge of the precipice until she was far enough, then got up on her feet, dusted grass off her knees with her hat and started descending the slope. Ingrandor followed, walking decisively.
