——— 2 ———

⁠—⁠—⁠— II ⁠—⁠—⁠—

Finding a raft wasn’t as difficult as they had expected. The Sem had been thorough in their siege, but they weren’t the least bit interested in the Mongauli boats and river gear stored in the underground cellars.

In their looting, the raiders had chiefly sought out the high-quality Gohran crossbows, pausing occasionally to pick up scraps of Gohran cloth to make into clothing. Plants that bore enough fiber for weaving were scarce in the wildlands, so the Sem had adopted the custom of skinning the few wildlands animals they could kill, or on occasion, members of enemy tribes, and tanning their hides to wear. Now Rinda and Remus tried to ignore the naked corpses that lay strewn about the ruins of the once proud keep. The gruesome sight of the carnage disturbed Suni so much that she clung to Rinda’s shirtsleeve and only let go after much coaxing.

The ghastly scene seemed to have little effect on Guin and the mercenary Istavan. They mechanically tossed aside the corpses to make a path, stopping to clear a number of the fallen from before a pair of great, charred doors. Istavan looked almost slender beside Guin’s powerful frame, but his thin arms were amazingly strong, and he picked up the heavy armor-clad bodies with ease.

When the doorway was cleared Istavan advanced through it to investigate. A short while later, he gave a shout. He had found a raft in the cellars, untouched and in perfect condition.

The craft was quite sturdily built. It was made of hard planks of wood bound together tightly with bands of iron, and though it was shallow, it had something of a hold where provisions could be stored. There was also a mast, which would allow them to run up a sail. A broad, flat raft was better suited than a regular boat for riding the Kes. The river’s banks were far apart enough to accommodate its width, and the swift current would easily capsize a narrower vessel.

All five of the companions⁠—even little Suni⁠—were drenched with sweat by the time they finished dragging the raft out to the courtyard. Then Istavan directed them to gather up thick branches to use as rollers, and, pushing and pulling, they slowly made their way to the outer wall.

There they wondered how they were going to get the raft down the sheer cliff to the river, but a simple solution presented itself. Istavan went back into the keep and returned with a rope and pulley that the keep guards had used for lowering rafts to the water. They took turns on the pulley, and after a good deal of sweaty work, the raft was on the riverbank. By now the sun had risen high into the sky and was blazing down mercilessly.

They had to rest. The sweat poured down their faces and stung their eyes. Even the thought of the approaching Gohran reinforcements couldn’t stir them to move. The heat and the effort had left the twins of Parros exhausted; Rinda was barely aware of Suni fanning her with a giant leaf. Even Istavan was covered with sweat, his shoulders heaving with every breath.

“You sure you’re human, leopard-head?” grumbled Istavan.

If Guin was tired, he didn’t look it. His chest was barely moving.

“As sure as Cetoh the serpent munches on his own tail, if you’re human, then I don’t know what we are! You’ve the strength of an ox!”

Guin didn’t bother to reply.

The mercenary looked over at the raft it had taken them so long to get down to the water. His thoughts were still racing. “Aye, she’s a beauty, isn’t she? Built tough for crossing the Kes. Still⁠—hey, Guin, you know what they had us mercenaries do when we first arrived? For months we were down here, trying to join rafts in a line across this blasted river-trying to make a bridge for that crazy duke. See, Archduke Vlad, he wasn’t happy having anyone, even a river, tell him where his borders lay, and here his northeastern edge runs along the Kes. So he says build a bridge, raise a big army and make the wildlands of Nospherus Gohran territory! Trying to get a leg up on the other two arch-dukes, I bet. Tario of Kumn and Olu Khan in Yulania might be interested to know of his plans. Aye, Vlad wants land so bad he’s making eyes at Nospherus!”

“This is none of my concern,” replied Guin, matter-of-factly. He had no way of knowing that he was wrong⁠—not in his wildest dreams would he suspect that, in the not too distant future, the insatiable hunger of the Mongauli archduke would matter very much to him, and that his path would be forever determined as a result.

Istavan looked at the twins who lay exhausted near the cliff edge where they had fastened the pulley, “We better bring as much food as we can find, and water. The water of Kes is no good for drinking, and I’ve no intention of eating anything that’s been swimming in there. And… weapons.” Istavan sounded as though he’d given similar orders many times before.

The specter of the Gohran reinforcements rose again in their minds, and the twins and Suni got up and scampered about the ruins, bringing back what food they could get their hands on, though that was neither plentiful nor very appetizing. Most everything edible had been seized by the Sem, and what jugs of water and wine were not taken had been smashed.

Still, they found some dried meat and fruit, and some flour that could be mixed with water and eaten. This they divided up and placed in leather satchels that they hung from their belts. Istavan joined them, occasionally stooping down to search the bodies of fallen Sem.

When Rinda asked him what he was looking for, he flashed her a shameless grin. “Just looking for shiny trinkets they might have stolen, you know?”

Rinda frowned. This man was even more unscrupulous than she had thought. She would have to keep an eye on him.

Then, again as though he could read her thoughts, Istavan turned around. “Hey, little girl, why is it you want to go to Cheironia, anyway? Where are your parents? You’re no peasant girl from around these parts, that’s for sure.”

Rinda flinched, then retorted, “I could ask you the same! And who’s the Shining Lady, anyway? You’re looking for her, aren’t you?”

Istavan laughed heartily. “You’ve got spirit, girl. I’d hate to have you as a daughter! Think of the trouble!” But he sounded more bemused than critical, and there was a twinkle in his eye. “You know, with the sunlight shining on your hair like that, you look like a pretty doll made out of silver. Maybe you’re the Shining Lady I’m looking for, eh?” He laughed again, “What house are you from, girl?”

Why, of all the insolent, nosey… Rinda was growing more aggravated by the moment, and she bit down on her little ruby-red lip to stop herself from giving him the tongue-lashing he deserved. Remus, looking concerned, came over to see what the matter was. Rinda silenced him with a look and shot back at Istavan, “Our family and past are no concern of yours. Even if I were the one of whom you speak, I daresay I’d have nothing to do with the likes of you!” Rinda brushed the platinum blond hair he had just complimented back over her shoulders.

“Ah, but if you were the Shining Lady, you would have something to do with me, for she is the keeper of my fate.”

“The… keeper of your fate?”

“Yes, though truth be told, I’m not really sure what that means. A fortune-teller⁠—”

Istavan’s mouth snapped shut, as though he had suddenly realized he’d said too much. Rinda was going to try to coax more out of him, but at that moment Guin returned with Suni at his side. He carried a crossbow in each hand and looked about warily as they approached.

“We leave now,” the leopard warrior announced, without so much as a greeting. “There’s smoke rising in the direction of the Taloswood. If I’m not mistaken, those are the lunch fires of the troops from Alvon or maybe Talos. It’s only two and half days on horseback down the main road between Stafolos and Alvon. That means that scouts riding ahead of the main group should already be in the Roodwood by now.”

“The journey is quicker by river⁠—we’ll be past Alvon by nightfall. Let’s get moving,” Istavan urged, heading for the cliff. Remus, Suni, and Rinda rushed to follow him along the narrow track winding down the cliff face to the river.

The companions’ chatting was replaced by cautious silence. They moved like hunted animals. Guin peered back at Stafolos Keep hoping that no trace of their presence remained, before turning to follow the others down. Nothing lived in the gutted ruins. The purifying flames had burned away everything, even the evil, corpse-eating spirit that had cursed the place and its master. Guin muttered in approval.

When the leopard-man jumped onto the raft, the iron-bound logs rocked under his massive weight. Istavan slid over to the far side to balance the load.

“Girl-child, get closer to the mercenary. Suni, stay in the middle⁠—yes, right there.”

Guin got the other passengers into position as Istavan shouted “We’re off!” and swung his sword at the rope mooring the raft to a boulder at the water’s edge, cutting it cleanly. His voice had a boyish ring to it, as though he were remembering his childhood in sea-faring Valachia. No sooner had he cut the rope than the swift current swept the raft and its five passengers away from the shore, carrying them out towards the middle of the great black flow of the Kes.

Rinda shivered and grabbed on tightly with both hands to one of the iron rails that ran the length of each side of the raft. The river was flowing fast, indeed!

“Listen up!” shouted Istavan over the roar, “Don’t any of you fall in, ’cause at this speed we’ll be long gone before we miss you!”

Guin braced his legs at the stern and pushed off the river bottom with a long pole, keeping them on a straight course.

The sun was blazing hot, but a strong wind blew on the surface of the river, sending up a fine spray of water that soon cooled them almost to a chill.

Shortly, Rinda began to get used to the speed of the raft. “What beautiful water!” She leaned over the side, looking down into the eddies as they rushed past. “Why, I think I can see rocks on the bottom! It’s hard to believe that anyone would call this the Black Flow.”

Istavan quietly shrugged and shook his head. He was sitting on one knee at the front of the raft, his left hand gripping the rail and his right holding his drawn sword.

“Look closer before you speak,” growled Guin. “The river is far too deep here to see the bottom, and from where I stand looks black as death. If you say you saw rocks, we’d best be careful⁠—the creatures of the Kes wear many disguises.

“Don’t forget where we are, children! These are the Marches, and nothing is safe.”

The leopard-man never ceased making minute adjustments to their course as he talked, working the long pole through the water behind them.

Rinda and Remus looked at each other, their eyes wide; then both nodded.

“I’m sorry Guin⁠ ⁠… but look at how far away Stafolos is now! At this rate, we’ll be at the river mouth in no time at all!”

Istavan called back in a calm voice. “From here to the town of Ros is a good number of tads⁠—many days on horseback even if you could go straight along the river. The current may be fast, but surely we’re not moving much more swiftly than that⁠ ⁠… which means we’re spending more than a few days at the mercy of this river of death. Best pray that Jarn’s watchful⁠—and in a good mood!”

“I only spoke my thoughts,” said Rinda grumpily. Her platinum hair flew back, sparkling, in the wind off the river. Istavan gave a shrug and grinned.

All of them turned their full attention to keeping the raft on course. Yet even if they had not been so preoccupied, it is unlikely that any of them, even Guin with his sharp eyes, would have noticed the figure on horseback high above them atop the Gohran cliffs on the starboard bank.

It was a knight, steed reined to a standstill, who stared down at the Kes far below. The knight’s faceplate was down and from atop the well-wrought helm a white tassel fluttered beautifully in the breeze. The knight’s armor, too, was white, with white gauntlets and greaves. Even the horse wore barding of white leather, set with sparkling gemstones.

The knight’s eyes studied the river from within the white helm. From the height of the cliff top, Guin and the others on the raft looked like little ants clinging to a leaf.

The strange knight watched them for a short while as they fought bravely against the current and their uncertain fates, then gave a satisfied nod and pulled the reins to turn the horseI away. Long, shiny blond hair spilled from beneath the white helm.

“Hyah!”

The rider urged the horse on with a crack from a small riding crop held in a silvery-white chainmail glove. The white horse stepped lightly away from the cliff and disappeared down a narrow path⁠—a shortcut through the forest that led to the keep at Alvon.

Quiet returned to the Marches woods and, down on the Kes River below, the five raft riders were unaware that they had been observed.

Remus shouted through the white water-spray from the side of the vessel where he was holding tightly onto the rail. “Hey, Guin⁠—say we get to Rosmouth okay⁠—how are we going to hide your head? And what about Suni⁠—”

“A way will present itself.”

“But Suni⁠—”

“We will drop her off and she can return to her own people.”

“Ach, you’re like a girl,” Istavan sneered. “Always worrying about this that and the other thing. Your sister’s more of a man than you, I’d say.”

“Hey, that’s not⁠—” began Remus, always sensitive about being compared to his sister⁠—but he never finished his retort. Instead, his face went white, and his grip tightened on the rail.

“What’s wrong?” Rinda demanded.

Remus responded in a shaky voice, pointing out into the river. “L-Look, over there! Something’s odd!”

“Odd?” Rinda shot him a doubtful look, then glanced across the water and gasped. “What is that?!”

A great swell of bubbling whitewater was rising up only five yards away to their right and rapidly approaching, chasing the raft⁠—then the frothy water split, revealing a creature that seemed to be made entirely of long rows of bone-white teeth!

“Bigmouth!” shouted Istavan, shifting his grip on his sword.

The enormous jaws opened, and came straight for them.