Engines & Demons - The Undestined

Chapter 39i

The cart had been abandoned five kilometres north of the Point. The two zule that had been harnessed to it had been cut from their traces, but they had not gone far. One had stopped in a low dip in the earth a few metres away, its head buried in the long grass as it searched for any dampness at its roots. The other still stood beside the wagon, but as the riders approached it lurched away on its odd segmented legs, giving a rattling hiss from between its long mandibles.

Sir Kralaford dismounted, went immediately to the abandoned cart, and climbed to the driver's step. He pulled aside the tarp curtain, which was untied and flapping in the morning breeze. The sky still held the darkness of the night, but the light from the Khensis moon was enough to light the cart's interior.

"Empty," he said, without surprise.

Sir Beddingvale, who had urged his steed beyond the wagon, called to one of the scouts who had ridden further up the road. The man's steed had its horned head lowered to its compacted surface.

"Do you have anything?"

"Nothing here, sir."

The other scouts had ridden cautiously from the road, into the long grass of the plains. It was still too dark to see clear detail within its whispering shadows, but their madriel snorted as their noses investigated its scents.

"I have something," said one, whose steed was pushing keenly into the grass.

With a word of command, she halted the eager madriel and slid from its back. She went forward slowly, careful not to further disturb the tall grasses around her.

Sir Kralaford stepped down from the cart, but said nothing that would distract the woman from her investigations. Herald Bernus had selected the scouts personally, and he was satisfied to put his trust in their skills, despite his central impatience.

"They rode off this way," said the scout eventually. "There are hydrayet tracks."

"How many?" asked Sir Hogan, who had halted his steed beside the cart.

"At least two, but maybe more."

"Heading east?" asked Sir Kralaford.

"From here. Yes."

"Can you follow their trail?"

"This is ranch land, sir; thick with the scent of tragasaur and felgar. Our beasts can tail them, but not at great speed."

"We must travel swiftly."

"If it were light, our task would be easier."

The senior of the six scouts rode her steed back onto the road from where she had been searching its western border.

"The Siceria will still be high after the rains," she said. "The fords will be flooded, and there will be few places to cross."

"Where could they be going?" asked Sir Beddingvale, who had re-joined them on the road.

Sir Kralaford went to Hakansa and pulled himself back into his saddle.

"Solridge," he said.

"Can you be sure, Commander?"

"It is our closest border."

"And one that it would be unwise to cross," added Sir Hogan.

"Which is why whoever has taken my son is seeking its safety."

"If they are heading for Solridge, then the deeps bridge will give them their swiftest route," said the senior scout. "But they may try to cross by one of Siceria's farms. Many of them span the river where it is narrow."