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Topiara - Chapter 24
The Farranby who met them at the north gate was a far different character than the Farranby Lyara had known in her travels north. Instead of his finer attire as steward to the Master of Horse, he had donned rough and durable leather clothing that closely matched those she and Jilan were wearing. The pony he rode was a spirited animal named Whisper that showed signs of being swift and surefooted. Lyara couldn't help but notice the gleam of appreciation in Jilan's face at the sight of the fine beast. In addition, Farranby had brought along another pony that was partially burdened with two medium bundles tied securely to the saddle.
Debin and Erla had been generous in distributing their master's wealth and supplies to the departing son. In the fat packs that both Fleetwind and Surefoot carried behind their riders were an abundance of herbs -- medicinal and flavoring -- as well as dried fruits and meats and healing gel. What they had not acquired at the Torbishahn hall had been easily bartered for in the marketplace. The packs were bulky, however; and it didn't take much urging for both Lyara and Jilan to add their packs to Farranby's.
Farranby eyed the longbow that remained looped about Jilan's chest with open respect. "You don't get one of those for being less than a master marksman. We may just make it through this with our skins intact yet."
"Are you expecting trouble this early?" Lyara re sponded to Topiara's quiet comment and her own observation of the cautious way that Farranby gazed from side to side.
"I saw two of Vinzen's men while we were talking before," Farranby remarked quietly when they had cleared the gates and were easing their way through the hovels that encircled the city. "They were watching you two, you know. They probably were watching near the gate where we met up a little while ago. I'd bet that Vinzen will know by tomorrow evening that I'm traveling with you."
"Are you sure?" Jilan was astonished. "I thought the Varren Straits were five days from Tandri. How could he know so soon?"
"In the first place, we aren't sure that Vinzen wasn't still in Tandri," Farranby explained patiently. "I only know that he spends at least half of every month taking stock of all his stolen gains out at his estate. But he far prefers the activity and bustle of city life. In the second," he paused long enough that both Lyara and Jilan glanced at him curiously, "he has several mystics in his employ who are less than ethical in their other pursuits." He shook his head. "Amazing what greed can do to a man of few principles."
"That's not very comforting," Lyara grimaced. "How are we going to convince mystics that we're heading north?"
Jilan shook his head. "It's a myth, Lyara, that mystics can tell anything they want at any distance. Real mystics need to have another mystic telling them what is going on at the distance. There would have to be a mystic here in our area telling Vinzen that we're heading southwest rather than north."
"Right." Farranby nodded vigorously. "Now Vinzen's trained his men to follow their targets at about a two hour interval. He has employed some of the best trackers in Talandria -- the kind that can tell one pony's tracks in a road from hundreds of others. Most of his tracking parties are composed of three or four men: the mystic, the trapper and a couple of fighters."
"So all right then," Lyara shrugged, "we travel until nightfall, and set up camp and wait for them to come upon us in the dark. We'll be ready for them."
"No, it doesn't quite work that way." Farranby held up his hand in a gesture for her to rein in her confidence. "The trackers leave roughly two hours after the targets, but they travel hard and fast while we will have been taking our time and sparing our mounts. Most expect that any attacks will come in the dark, but Vinzen knows that the best plan is for the attack to come before nightfall, in the broad daylight. Travelers aren't expecting trouble and so are much less prepared for it."
Jilan eyed Farranby with a less than trusting gaze. "You sound like you know how your brother operates very well."
Farranby didn't look at his questioner, but kept his eyes straight ahead. "You're right. I do. I rode with Vinzen for many years before he betrayed me and everything that ever meant anything to me." When he did finally look over at Lyara and Jilan, his expression was bitter and cold. "I left his organization with the promise that I would never tell any of his secrets to any authorities as long as he left me and anything I valued alone. That doesn't mean I didn't think about going after him myself."
Lyara shook her head. "It doesn't wash, Farranby. In all the action we saw on that trip north, you didn't act like a man accustomed to having a sword in your hand. As a matter of fact, you were almost downright clumsy."
"Swordplay, like most skills, vanishes if not practiced diligently. Tell me, how many times do you imagine I would have had the time and opportunity to take a turn in the sawdust working for Dilan?" He shrugged. "Besides, I don't make a habit of telling my history to every person I come into contact with -- even a bright and pretty young Guide." Lyara glanced over at him with an amused smile.
Jilan sighed. "OK then. Lyara's arm is still not up to what it was before. I've never used a bow and arrow as a weapon, but one target is pretty much like another. We still don't see how you're going to defend yourself other than with a sword, and by your own admission your skills are rusty. And we're going up against a highly skilled force of thieves and cutthroats by ourselves?"
Lyara turned the smile on Jilan. "We are in a better position now than if we had left without Farranby. Wasn't it you who told me that knowledge can be just as dangerous a weapon as a sword?" She wagged a finger at Farranby. "If what you say is true, then we have less than two hours sitting still before we will be attacked, right?"
Farranby nodded firmly. "Right."
"Wonderful," Jilan grumbled.
"That's right," Lyara nodded, agreeing with Jilan's remark and startling him. "Knowing that will mean we can choose the place for the attack ourselves instead of wait ing for them to catch us up." Looking in front of them, she pointed at the open road beyond the huts and hovels. "We had better be ready to ride hard ourselves until we can find a good place to set up our own ambush."
The Korevin Valley lay less than an hour north of Tandri, with steep, tree-covered slopes and the quick-running Shibni River. The main road north forded the river where it had spread out slightly and was shallow. Still, the yearly winter runoff had carved steep scarps out of the hillsides during the last flood. Ancient trees overhung the road and the river, giving the ford an arched effect.
The water rippled and swirled about the ponies' hooves as Lyara, Jilan and Farranby halted and pulled their mounts closer together for a quick conference. They would not be able to push their ponies much farther without giving them a chance to breathe and rest.
"This isn't such a bad place to wait," Farranby re marked, turning in his saddle first one way and then the other. "One of us can take the ponies up the other side of the ford -- just in case the tracker has good eyesight and can tell if we really did ford the river -- and then double back here."
Lyara was staring up into the massive branches of the ancient trees. "I'll take the ponies ahead. Jilan, you and Farranby find yourselves good perches up there." She pointed into the leafy arch.
"What about you?" Jilan demanded as he dismounted.
In response, Lyara reached into one of the bulky bundles that she had brought from the Guides' hall and pulled out a thick coil of rope, which she looped over one shoulder. She tied the bundle closed again and then handed the rope over to Farranby. "Find a good and sturdy branch and tie one end of this to it." She pointed up again. "I'll find me a nice place to hide up there when I get back."
"Wait a minute." Farranby caught at the reins of the pack pony and opened one of his own bundles to draw out a very narrow sheath of leather and a pouch.
"What's that?" Jilan inquired curiously.
Farranby's face took on a strange expression, and then he carefully opened the sheath to draw out a polished tube of black wood. "You have your longbow, Jilan, and Lyara has her sword. I have this."
Lyara edged Surefoot closer to Farranby to study the object he held, and then let out a low whistle. "Is that what I think it is?"
Jilan also had whistled in appreciation, but had a more direct question. "And the darts are in the other pouch?"
Farranby smiled and slid the tube back into its sheath. "I did a little traveling after I left Vinzen and before I cast my lot with Dilan." He was grinning when he finished settling the strap of the sheath over his head and shoulder. "I made some interesting friends."
Lyara guffawed as she gathered the reins of her com rades' ponies and the pack pony and, with a tap of her heel, set Surefoot into a canter headed in the direction of the other bank of the ford.
Jilan just shook his head and joined Farranby on the near bank, studying the trunks and branches of the trees to find the one best suited to hide in. "My university friends would never believe me if I told them that I was traveling with a Kauwlut Guide and a former associate of Vinzen -- who also happened to have made friends with the Vryies."
Farranby looked sharply at Jilan. "Kauwlut? Lyara?"
Jilan nodded, then pointed up and out. "There's good cover behind those leaves." His finger shifted. "And I think I can get my best balance if I stay close to that main trunk -- there, see?"
Farranby pointed in yet another spot. "I can work my way out to that branch there and tie off Lyara's rope first too. She can wait over there," his finger shifted too.
Jilan shook his head and pointed slightly to the left. "I wouldn't use that one. Look, the leaves are dying, and it might be too brittle to take any sudden weight."
"What about that one?" A finger stabbed into the air again.
"Much better."
Farranby patted Jilan on the back, pleased, and then both men began climbing their respective trees.
By the time Lyara returned to the opposite bank, Jilan had found his niche and Farranby had managed to get the rope tied off and was still moving cautiously through the branches to the spot he had chosen to hide himself.
"Where's Jilan?" she called to Farranby when she had spot ted him.
"Over there," Farranby called back and pointed when he had reached a steady perch. Jilan waved down at her silently.
Lyara waved back. "Where should I be?"
Farranby turned on his branch and pointed down to one of the massive trunks that leaned over the river. "Start there, and climb until you can switch to that one there, to the left. The cover is good, and I can toss you the rope from there."
Lyara waved her acknowledgement and headed for the tree Farranby had pointed out to begin her own climb.
"How much more time before they come?" Jilan called to Farranby, who glanced up through the branches at the tiny spots of sky visible through the leaves.
"They should get her within the hour," he replied loudly, returning his concentration to watching Lyara clamber through the branches to the spot he had indicated. "Are you ready?" he called as she settled down into a balanced seat.
It took two tosses of the rope before Lyara had caught it and pulled it in to wind up the coil. "This is a good position," she said as she studied her position in relation to the ford in the streambed. "Farranby, you set your aim for the mystic. Jilan, your first arrow goes into the last man into the water. I should be able to knock at least one off his mount."
"That's ridiculous, Lyara," Jilan complained. "Let's make it even simpler. Farranby take out the mystic and the tracker -- because they will probably be the ones in front. I'll aim at the two or three in back. If any of them look like they're going to make it across and to safety, Lyara, then you knock them off their pony."
"That's a better plan, Lyara," Farranby called in agreement. "We don't need to put ourselves in any more danger than absolutely necessary."
"I hate being superfluous," Lyara barked at both of them.
"You're not being superfluous," Farranby replied calmly and rationally. "It's just that this is a completely different kind of fight than the ones we had before. The rules are different. Jilan and I can do more damage from up here by ourselves than all three of us could do on the ground." Farranby had removed the tube from its sheath and pulled three of the short, pointed darts from the pouch along with a curious wad of white fibers. With a practiced hand, he threaded two of the darts through the drawholes of their pouch and set about pulling an amount of the white fiber from the wad and twirling it about the third dart. Each of the darts was given the same treatment.
Lyara watched the process twice, then asked quietly, "Are they poisoned too, like the stories claim?"
Farranby glanced up at her and nodded solemnly. "I don't even need to do more than scratch them."
Jilan shivered. "Maybe I should have some of that stuff for my arrows."
"The plant the poison comes from doesn't grow this far north," Farranby said, shaking his head.
"Besides, I don't know how the Vryies ferment the pulp to make it poisonous, or if they do something to it later to make it non-poison ous. You see, they drink a kind of brew made from the same plant pulp as they make the poison from. I only stayed with them long enough to win the right to carry my own blowgun and be taught to hunt with them. Each band has its own medicine-maker responsible for concocting the poison."
Lyara would have made another comment, but Jilan waved and shushed at them. Now they all could hear the sound of fast-approaching hoofbeats in the distance. Farranby quickly finished the third dart and carefully placed it in one end of his blowgun. Jilan took one of his arrows from the quiver and notched it, leaned against the trunk of the tree for balance and then drew the drawstring back. Lyara jerked on the rope to test the knot above her, then settled to wait.
The sound of hoofbeats grew steadily louder; these ponies were being ridden just as hard and fast as they could go. Within minutes the first of the ponies and riders burst around the corner and reined in the descent the steep scarp to the ford. There were only four, with the second rider wearing a medallion that flashed despite the lack of sunlight.
Both Jilan and Farranby waited until the four ponies were in the water up to their withers before loosing their first shots. Farranby's dart sank into the back of the dark-robed man with the medallion, who fell from his mount without a sound. Jilan's arrow had also found its mark, and the last rider seemed to tumble into the water at the same time as the mystic.
The remaining men barely had time to draw their swords and begin looking around madly for their attackers before both Jilan and Farranby had their second missiles ready and launched. Jilan's arrow found its target like before, and a second man tumbled into the water; but Farranby's dart had flown wide, giving the tracker the time to dig his heel into his mount and try to urge it across the river without even checking on his other comrades.
With a whoop that startled even Farranby and Jilan, Lyara leapt from her perch, feet stretched out in front of her with toes pointed. The tracker also turned to find the source of the noise, unconsciously reining in his mount at the same time. He had no chance to move out of the way before Lyara's feet connected squarely with his face and snapped his head backwards viciously. Neck broken, the tracker tumbled into the water with the others.
Lyara stayed with the rope until she began to swing back, whereupon she dropped herself into the saddle of the pony from which she had just dispatched the rider. With a grim face she watched the four bodies in the water float downstream.
"Get my arrows back if you can," Jilan called from his perch, looping his arm through his longbow once more. "The feathers design was specially made. They'll be able to identify me if we aren't careful."
"Might as well pull them all onto the bank. We don't need for anyone to see those darts either," Farranby agreed, resheathing his blowgun and inserting his final dart back into the pouch.
Lyara quickly gathered the reins of the ponies and tied them to a low branch while her comrades began moving around in the branches above her again. "Can one of you untie my rope?" she called up.
Farranby waved at her in reply, and she kneed the pony to make it move after one arrow-pierced body and grab at a collar or sleeve. She had dragged three bodies to the banks when a call from Farranby high above her caught her attention, and she moved her pony over and grasped the dangling rope as Farranby tossed down the now untied end.
Arrows and darts retrieved, the bodies were once more consigned to float downstream. Jilan and Farranby mounted two of the captive ponies. "I don't know about you two," Lyara said tiredly, studying the quickly darkening sky, "but I'm wet and cold and tired. And I think it's about time we set up camp for the night."
"Will there be any chance of another tracking group coming after us?" Jilan asked Farranby while nodding agree ment with Lyara.
"Not for a day at least. It will take that long for Vinzen to realize that this first group is lost and organize another party."
"Good. There's a clearing not far from where I teth ered our ponies in the trees." Lyara pointed the way. "We can barter these ponies at the next village we come to tomorrow for specie."
"What's the matter Lyara?" Jilan asked in mock inno cence. "Are you still feeling poor?"
Lyara gave Jilan an exaggerated glower and then began to chuckle. "You ought to know."
Farranby looked from one to the other and then wisely decided to keep his mouth shut.
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