The Mercenary's Claim Read online

  In her astonishment, Kirsten forgot to be angry that he walked away without being dismissed. Is he right? Does Gustav bring out the best in me? Look at all we’ve accomplished, at the house and on the manor. I never would have thought that I could have done half of what we’ve achieved. Kirsten stared after Wern, but she was thinking of her husband.

  Without really paying attention, Kirsten saw Wern examine the road and then follow several different directions a few paces, before returning to the mud. Before she could hear him, she could see him suddenly and forcefully motioning with his gauntleted hand for her to get away from the road and behind the tree so that she would be hidden from view.

  When he reached her, he hissed, “That letter Gustav sent. He definitely told you to take this road?”

  “I showed it to you,” Kirsten whispered back. “You know it did.”

  “And you know I can’t read.”

  “Then you’ll have to trust me on this.”

  “It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s that letter. Tell me again what it said.”

  “The letter said to take the lake road.”

  “Gustav was that specific? That’s not like him, to give such detailed instructions. He gets the right man for the job, then lets him do it.”

  “Maybe he wanted us to avoid having to cross the river further south. He must have passed that way on his way to warn Varin about Count Ulrich’s patrols.”

  “You know about Varin’s smuggling?” Wern sounded astonished.

  “I do now,” Kirsten observed smugly, then relented when she saw Wern’s look of chagrin. “I knew it was something like that. I warned Gustav about Count Ulrich and suddenly he was gone, first for a night, then after a few days off on his trip south, alone, without me. I knew there had to be a reason for that besides fear for my safety on the roads. Varin is his best friend. Gustav doesn’t want to see him caught by Count Ulrich’s patrols.”

  “Well, that may have been his main concern after all. The tracks I see in that mud show me that a large group of horsemen passed this way and not very long ago. What’s worse, they rode off in two different directions.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Up ahead there is a place where a shelf of rock has fallen, forming a kind of long ledge. The road splits into upper and lower branches, one running along the old roadbed and one tracing the shelf of rock underneath. In several places the two branches run parallel and not very far from each other, one road maybe six or eight feet above the other. Perfect for ambush. One man on that upper road can jump down on an unwary group and take them all before they know they’ve been had.”

  “Then we’ll take the upper road.”

  “Didn’t you hear me? I said they’d split into two groups. They probably have both roads blocked. Facing one group is bad enough, but two… ”

  “What will we do?” Kirsten searched his face and didn’t like the confusion she saw there.

  “That’s what I don’t know. Gustav usually tells us what to do and Varin usually tells him. Lacking either of them… I suppose I could just do what we did the last time we were on this road and suspected a trap.”

  “What was that?”

  “Turned tail and ran. It’s the only way. We can’t just walk into danger.”

  “But what’s to stop them from pursuing us? Men on horseback? Chasing a carriage? We’ll have no chance.”

  “What do you suggest then?”

  “Let me think. I’ve heard enough of your war stories over these last few months that I ought to be able to think of something. Say, I have it.”

  After Kirsten explained her plan to Wern, he broke into a broad grin. “Gustav may have my hide for trying this with you, but it’s our best chance. Our only chance.”

  * * *

  The men waiting in ambush were getting restless. “The carriage should have been here by now,” they complained to one another. The minutes dragged by, their bloodlust up, anticipating an easy time and a large payoff, even divided as it would be between such a large group. The man who had employed them had insisted they not be fooled by the fact that they were attacking such a small group. Now it was beginning to look like he had been right to warn them.

  The leader of the brigands signaled four of his underlings. “Ride back up the roads, two on the high path, two on the low, acting normal. Then once you’ve passed them circle off the road and get back here to report. They must have lost a wheel or decided to make camp for the night.”

  When the first two riders came back they reported no sight of anyone. “They just gone and disappeared. Gone like smoke, they is. We gone out on the high road and come back on the low, then scrambled up the embankment in between just now to get back up here. Nothing and more nothing.”

  “They’ve pulled off the road and are taking to the fields. We should be able to catch them easily enough.” They rode off in a group, but after only a short way the leader fell behind, hoping to find some trace of where they had pulled off the road. He finally located the place where he could tell by the tracks that a carriage had been diverted, but the puzzling thing was that it was toward the lake.

  The leader quietly followed the tracks, intent on sighting the carriage before he circled back to gather his men for an assault. Spotting the carriage, something about the way the horses were just standing by the side of the lake drinking calmly by themselves made the leader curious. He rode up to the side of the conveyance. The last sight he ever saw was the empty driver’s seat.

  * * *

  “Where have you been?” Kirsten demanded when Wern rode up underneath the tree she was hiding in. “And where did this horse come from? I thought you were scouting the road.”

  “I was, my lady. Your plan was good, as far as it went. Hiding up in the trees to let the bandits ride right under us worked a treat, but it wouldn’t put them off for long. And it left us on foot.”

  “And now we’ve got one horse between the three of us. How is that going to help?”

  “I’m sure a companion or two will come roaming along any time now. You just stay right here until I come back with a friend or two for this fellow.”

  The driver spoke up. “Best get on with it, mate. Dark be coming on. Don’t fancy a night in these woods with naught but the two of us to protect the likes of her. I’d come with you, but… ”

  “I know. Can’t be done. You stay here and guard her. I’ll be back before you know I’m gone.”

  “Good thing,” the driver answered. “I ain’t the lad I was. Climbing trees at my age! Who ever heard the like?”

  “That’s why it worked,” Kirsten said when Wern had gone. “No one would expect it.”

  The driver laughed. “Nor does no one think to turn loose a fine carriage as that one was.”

  “It was too bad we couldn’t use those horses.”

  “If we’d took them horses, they’d know we was about here somewheres. Leaving them beasts there makes it look like we got tooken or shot or some such.”

  “But how did Wern get that horse he was riding?”

  “He waits near the carriage, he does, or I miss my guess. With them horses still there, looks right strange and all, something to investigate, so it is and somebody does. Investigate, I mean. Then out jumps old Wern and gives an ambush to the ambusher. That’s one villain what won’t be needing of horses no more.”

  “You mean Wern attacked… but he could have been hurt. How could he know the man would be alone?”

  “He cain’t be knowing that, my lady. He takes his chances like we all does.” The old man laughed again. “Time were when I were fit for such duty, I were, and all. Now, these old bones… ”

  “Are up a tree,” Kirsten commented. “Old bones are obviously quite serviceable, and I thank you.” She didn’t know where that came from. Perhaps it was the ridiculousness of their situation or the closeness of fear, but she was beginning to see the sacrifice that service might mean and the loyalty of those who served her husband. It only seemed right to praise
him. It seemed to her as she did it that she had heard her father and mother say similar things to their servants and soldiers. It gave her something to think about as she waited for Wern to return.

  When he came riding down the road, he was trailing two horses and a trickle of blood.

  * * *

  They rode on, up the narrowest paths Wern could find, circling cautiously but eventually heading toward the lodge that had been their original destination. Kirsten had fretted about the horses still hitched to the carriage, but Wern assured her that they would come to no harm. He hoped they might even be able to recover them eventually, after their ordeal was over since Varin’s men were familiar with the area and would steal them back from whoever released them from the carriage. The shadows were growing underneath the forest canopy and Kirsten found herself feeling very grateful that the weather had turned warm enough to allow for comfort. She would have enjoyed a long ride in the gloaming, if only her husband had been by her side and unknown enemies hadn’t been at her back.

  Wern was leaning further and further over his horse until Kirsten feared he would fall off. She called out, in a carrying whisper, “We have to stop! I can’t go on.”

  Both Wern and the driver halted, one on either side of her but facing opposite directions so as to make sure no one could sneak up on them to attack or observe. The driver dismounted quickly, helped Kirsten dismount, and then took a defensive position to allow Wern to get off his horse. Kirsten helped support him as he stumbled to a tree and sat down with his back against it. “Now tell me what happened,” she demanded.

  “We can only stop a moment. You wait here while I scout the lodge.”

  “We’re near?” she demanded. “Why didn’t you tell me.”

  “Can’t risk calling out. We must be very careful.”

  “But why? I thought we’d be safe once we reached the lodge.”

  “We will be, if Gustav is indeed waiting for you where the letter said he would be.”

  Kirsten thought she understood. “You mean this may have been a trap from start to finish?”

  “The thought had occurred to me,” Wern said on a gasp. “We haven’t… seen any of the usual… guards patrolling the woods.” Exhausted from the effort of speaking, Wern fell back.

  “You’ve been hurt. How did it happen?” Kirsten tried to push his jerkin up away from his chest, but Wern wouldn’t let her.

  “The rider of our… third horse took exception to my… borrowing it, is all.”

  The driver chuckled. “I’ll just wager he did. Easy, now. My lady looks to be knowing her way around a knife wound.” He pushed aside Wern's hand and held it so that Kirsten could press her kerchief to the gash in his side.

  “I’m more used to treating sword wounds, but blood is blood.” She stopped for a moment in her ministrations and looked first at Wern, then at the driver. “And you’ve shed yours for me, or at least risked it. I won’t forget it.” Then a thought occurred to her. “I don’t even know your name.”

  Wern groaned. “Kirsten, please, just get on with it. This thing hurts like the very devil himself were sticking his pitchfork in my side.”

  “I can’t stitch it here. I’ve no needle or anything. We need to keep pressure on this cloth.”

  The driver stood for a moment and returned with a thin leather strap he had obviously just taken from part of his horse’s tack. “You wraps this and I’ll be tying it off for you. You just says how tight.”

  They soon had Wern set as well as could be done in the forest with no supplies on hand. “That will have to do for now,” Kirsten muttered. “But he shouldn’t ride very far.”

  “Tain’t very far to that lodge now. You stays here quiet like and I’ll be going up to see what’s what at the house.”

  “Be as quick as you can.”

  “Has you got you a knife?”

  “I do, yes,” Kirsten replied. “And you? Do you have a weapon at all?”

  The driver grinned at her and opened his coat. “There. That done for a knight once, did that one.” Turning to show her his wide leather belt, he folded a section of it back, revealing another blade. “And this one done for three men at one go. Three against one, it was. That was a few year ago, but still, I gots what counts.”

  “I still don’t know your name.”

  “My name? Why, it’s Driver. Nobody calls me nothing but that in so many long year gone by, I forgets what else I ever were called. Driver be good enough for me.”

  “Well, then, Driver, good luck.” She listened as he made his way through the trees on horseback, allowing his mount to pick his own way, no doubt.

  The evening hush was suddenly broken by a shout. “What’s that over there? I see a horse! It’s got to be them!” Then came the distinctive sound of a lone horse turning abruptly away from the lodge and crashing through underbrush. It passed by her in the distance, followed by more thrashing and shouts of pursuit far behind.

  Kirsten knew what she had to do. She scrambled up onto a fallen log and quickly mounted her horse, then set out as if in pursuit of Driver. When two strangers overtook her in a clearing, she screamed as convincingly as she was able. One of the men grabbed the reins of her horse while the other positioned his steed in front of her so that she could not bolt.

  “Well, my lady,” said the taller of the two, clearly the leader. “Where are you going? The lodge is this way. And where are your guards? Where is your escort?” He leered at her so insultingly that she had no hope that she could play out the charade of going willingly to the lodge in expectation of meeting her husband.

  “They were killed and dumped in the lake about an hour ago,” she said through gritted teeth. “You would do well to treat me with respect or risk incurring my father’s wrath. Have you any idea who he is? Who I am?”

  “Oh, yes, indeed, my lady,” the taller one answered. Swinging her mount around with his, he headed back toward the lodge. “I know who you were and I know who you are. And so does my liege, Sir Gregor. I’ll take you to him now so you can discuss old times, shall I?”

  Kirsten thought quickly and decided her strategy. Cringing and sobbing, she shook her head, but offered no resistance as he led her to the lodge. She could only hope that Driver had the good sense to go for help so that all her efforts to help his escape wouldn’t go to waste.

  * * *

  Inside the smallest guest bedroom, Kirsten waited, her hands bound in front of her, but her legs still free. She had spent the last few hours fretting and praying that Gustav would come soon and find Wern. Self-doubt gnawed at her. What if harm should come to him because of her actions? The night was mild and he had a weapon to defend himself against wild animals, but he had lost a lot of blood. Still, she had been so afraid the enemy would simply kill him on sight that she could not let him be caught, even if it meant his spending the night alone in the wood.

  She whirled when she heard the door latch open. “Ah, Lady Kirsten.” Gregor made her a mocking bow. “How nice to see you again.”

  Putting on a miserable expression, Kirsten sniffled before she cried, “How c-could you d-do this to m-me, Lord Gregor? Wh-where is m-my husband? Wh-what do you w-want with m-me?” Her sobs overtook her voice and she hung her head.

  Gregor grunted in disgust. “Sniveling, hysterical women! Calm down, girl. You won’t be hurt. It’s a ransom I’m after.”

  “Y-you’ll have it! Of-Of course, you’ll h-have it. Wh-whatever you want! J-just please don’t… don’t hurt m-me!”

  “Thought never crossed my mind. At least not until you started that caterwauling. Makes a man sick to hear you. If you don’t stop, I may have to reconsider.”

  “B-but my h-hands, My L-Lord. They hurt! P-please, untie m-me!” Her wail cut through the night.

  “Anything. Just close that yap of yours.”

  She sniffled, but more quietly. He came over to her and drew his knife to cut the bond. As she sat rubbing her chafed wrists, he went to the window to look out. She noted that he looked to t
he north, but of course there was nothing to see in the pitch black. He rattled the latch, which held firmly, then turned to say, “You’re twenty feet up, my lady. No use trying to escape through here, even if you could get the casement open.”

  “Escape? Wh-where would I g-go?”

  “That’s right. This was your father’s hunting lodge, but I doubt you know your way in or out of the area. So just lie down and get some sleep. I don’t want your father to think I’ve been beating you when he comes to pay the ransom. He’ll be in enough of a temper when he realizes it’s his old nemesis who’s behind the disappearance of his spoiled little daughter.”

  She watched him leave and heard him throw the bolt that had been newly added on the outside of the door. She continued to whine and moan for effect but after a reasonable interval, she went to the hearth and pulled out a stone from the low wall in front of the fire. She removed several stones, quickly and silently, until the pile was large and the opening was wide enough to admit a small slim person such as herself underneath.

  Once she was inside, she pulled the stones back into position in the order she had memorized as a child when the family had come to this lodge for various hunting outings. In good weather, she had enjoyed practicing archery with her mother, but on rainy days one of her tasks had been to learn all the locations of the entrances to the escape tunnel and how to access them and then close them up after herself, in the dark, leaving no trace. She had thought the training a boring waste of time when she was a girl. Now, as a young wife, she silently thanked her mother for all the years of preparation.

  She made her way along the stone lined passageway. It was slow going because the tunnel, small by design, was meant for defense. An enemy following could not move quickly. Only those who knew the pattern and the marks on the walls could traverse the length of the lodge without getting lost and blocked. There were also weapons attached in the corners at strategic turns where an ambush would be most likely to succeed, but since she knew no one would be pursuing her, she only took one out of its holder and kept crawling. Crawling was the easiest way to move in the passageway without the risk of suddenly banging one’s head on a well-placed trap meant for the unwary invader.