The Blight of Muirwood

Dahomeyjan knights were posted at each end, their horses tethered. There were easily twenty men, guarding both approaches of the bridge. Lia knew that dawn was coming and they would probably need to fight their way through the Queen Dowager’s army to reach the safety of Muirwood. Getting past the soldiers without a fight was her first choice.

Lia led the way, her bow ready, an arrow nipped in the string. She moved slowly, carefully, trying to reach the shadow of the bridge that their torchlight could not expose. She heard them speaking in Dahomeyjan as she advanced, complaining of the cold and wondering when they would abandon the bridge and join their fellows in the woods surrounding the Abbey.

“We will be warming our hands soon enough,” one of them said. “Over the burning stones of the Abbey. This land is cursed with cold and mist.”

Lia reached the block of stone at the base of the bridge, mid-stream. She could hear the soldiers above her, but no one had heard her approach. Ellowyn, watching the bridge, nearly stumbled off the rock into the water, but Colvin caught her and kept her near him. She trembled and shivered. Lia sighed in relief and listened. There was the loud rumble of horses approaching from the north in the darkness. She motioned for Colvin and Ellowyn to hurry.

Looking down at the black waters, Lia shuddered. How deep was the river? She could not tell. It looked absolutely frigid. The far end was not near enough to jump. She wished that the bridge was not guarded. She was not counting on having to cross two rivers. How would they cross quietly enough? They had to cross directly under the bridge or the knights might see them and then it would all be over. She rubbed her eyes, trying to think.

Colvin dragged Ellowyn up to the hiding place, clutching her hand as she shook, her teeth chattering. The girl was too cold. A dunk in the river might kill her. It was looking like they would need to fight their way across.

“It is Dieyre,” came a muttering voice. “He looks vexed.”

Another chill swept down Lia’s spine but not because of the water or the breeze. How she wanted to reward him with the arrow for his treachery. The sound of advancing horses closed in and the soldiers clustered along the banks. There were probably a dozen riders in all, the mounts panting and snorting. Hooves dashed in the dirt.

Dieyre’s voice was unmistakable. “Any sign of them?”

“Of who, my lord?”

“Of anyone, you idiot. I had men coming down the river this way. They should have reached you by now. No sign of Forshee or the girls?”

“Believe us,” said a tired voice, “If there were women folk wandering about tonight, we would have noticed. Some warm flesh would be appreciated on a such an accursed night as this. Would you agree, my lord? I do not see your prisoner with you. Where is she?”

Lia and Colvin faced each other, their eyes mirroring the same thought. Marciana.

“Safe and quite warm, I assure you. I left her on a fur coverlet with cider and meat. You can pay for your pleasures when the work is finished. Some of the lasses at the Abbey are pretty. Stay here until the next watch, then ride hard. I want you at Muirwood by dawn.”

“We will not be late, my lord.”

The clop of hooves started across the stones above them, each one thundering. With a dozen or so knights, riding one at a time, it would be a noisy crossing. She whispered that in Colvin’s ear. He understood. Dieyre’s arrival would help them cross undetected.

“How deep is the water?” Colvin whispered to her. She shrugged. Nodding, he held her shoulders and ventured into the river first. He scowled with the shock of cold water but he was tall enough he could stand. It was up to his waist. Motioning for Ellowyn, he reached out to her. She looked confused, but Lia helped lead her into his arms. He turned, adjusting her weight and then looked back at Lia. “I will come back for you,” he whispered.

She shook her head. “No, I will follow. I am not that cold.”

He shook his head violently. “Wait for me.” Then he stepped deeper into the river. The clatter and clash of hooves overhead was like thunder. Ellowyn squeezed around his neck, burying her face against his cheek. He struggled with her weight and his footing. Lia clenched her teeth, willing his feet to find safety. The water was deeper in the middle, rising up to his chest. He hoisted Ellowyn higher, teeth set, and then the worst was over and they were in the shallows on the other side. He deposited her on the mossy rock in the shadows and then came back swiftly, crossing the river again to the midway point where Lia crouched, shivering with cold and terrified by the proximity of the soldiers above.

He beckoned for her to come to him. Stepping off the rock, she lowered herself into his arms. As he clutched her tightly to him and braved the tug of the river again, she held her bow with one hand and wrapped her other arm around his neck, her mouth near his ear. He stepped deeper into the cold depths, his entire body shuddering with the cold. His teeth rattled, despite his tight clenching. With his face so near, she could almost see the puckered scar along his eyebrow, though all was deep with shadow. He nearly stumbled but managed to hoist her higher, to keep her away from the grasp of the current.