The Knave of Souls - Fantasy - Sequel to The Jack of Souls

Chapter 15

BLOOD & OATHS

*

Harric untied Idgit's reins from the hitch post outside the tower, and mounted. "Let's go, girl."

Comfortable in the saddle, he descended the garden switchbacks into a deeper fog made gray in the indirect light of dawn. A breeze blew up from the pass, shredding the fog and pulling it away from the trees and gardens in rags. Dark blue sky between them as they scudded past. Lower in the forest-rimmed meadow, the fog lingered, however, forcing him to navigate by memory at first—and then by the sound of voices—toward the willow where Kogan made his camp.

Halfway across the meadow, a dark shape loomed. Idgit startled, ears perked forward, eyes rolling white. The shape gave a deep snort of greeting.

"Easy, Idgit. It's just Geraldine."

The musk-auroch gave a shake of her massive head, spraying droplets of moisture in a halo from long ears and wool. Idgit gave her an unnecessarily large berth. The auroch chewed her cud and watched with calm, wise eyes.

The voices in the camp had gone silent. Harric could see the willow ahead as a darkening of the fog. "Hello?" he called. "Someone sent for a pack horse?"

"It's Harric," said Caris. Her voice came from one side.

A grunt came from the opposite side, and Kogan's tall bulk loomed from the fog. "Might have given a shout afore now," he said. "Fog's got us jumping like fleas. Could move an army in this and none would know it."

Caris and Brolli emerged from the other side. Kogan took Idgit's reins as Harric dismounted.

"But so timely!" said Brolli, flashing his feral grin. "What a brisk valet you are!"

Harric's eyes narrowed. Caris pinched a smile between her lips. To Brolli he said, "I have a demon that wakes me in the form of a beautiful warrior maiden."

Brolli barked out a laugh. "That is luck. I have only a sad old knight who stinks of ragleaf."

"Did you get very far last night?" Harric asked Brolli. "See anything before the fog set in?"

Brolli frowned. "Could not get close enough to the north pass before I had to turn back or maybe get lost. I had hoped to see fires. Did I hear wolves in the distance? Maybe it was men. I cannot tell."

"Will said wait here for him," said Kogan. "He's looking for lance trees. Said make sure you packed and saddled the horses."

"I did."

"Then help yourself to some mash at the fire. Ain't hot, sad to say, but oughta be warm."

Harric blinked. "You made a fire?" He glanced up to where the firecone ridge sailed above streaming rags of fog.

Kogan belched, and only when the beer fumes reached him did Harric realize the priest was roaring drunk, and probably not at his sharpest. Kogan grinned. "Will near took my head off for it."

Harric picketed Idgit and followed the others to the charcoal patch of ground that had been Kogan's camp fire. Caris handed Harric a wooden bowl of mash. Harric raised an eyebrow. The bowl appeared to be the only bowl in camp, which meant it had to be from Kogan's camp kit. That gave him visions of the priest licking it clean and drying it with his beard each morning.

Harric examined the mash as Kogan sat with a grunt on a log opposite, and promptly flopped over onto his back with a surprised, "Oop!"

The mash was simple boiled oats. Some looked like they might be whole oats—hull and all—from the horse's fodder. There appeared to be a submerged twig. Harric's stomach threatened to flop over. He glanced at Caris to find her biting back another grin. She'd endured the stuff, and now she was enjoying the show.