The Drovers, Book 2

Prologue

THE GUARD PEGGED the three men as problems as soon as they rode up.

The first man was a big, meaty fellow with a full beard. The next was bald and skinny. The third had outlined his eyes with kohl. It was a fashion in the south to do that. And the guard supposed there was nothing wrong with it, but what was a Southerner doing way up here? Especially one that looked like he’d not only rob his grandmother, but all his nieces and nephews as well.

The guard moved a bit closer to the money box. There was quite a bit of coin being collected here, and these louts weren’t going to get a penny of it. Not while he was around. 

“Would you look at that,” the tailor’s son said. “A Southerner.”

The tailor’s son was wearing an uppity hat with a big fancy feather in it. He removed his hat, ran his hand through his hair, and put his hat back on. He was one of six from Pencoy’s lands that had been assigned to protect the money. Everyone wanted to see the body of the korrog and hear the tale of the battle that had taken place just a few days ago on this very field. And they could for a price.

“They’ve come a long way,” the tailor’s son said. “I told you, didn’t I? They’re going to come from all over.”

“He didn’t come from the South,” the guard said.

“But—”

“It’s only been a few days,” the guard continued. “Not enough time for the news to travel that far. Certainly not enough time for anyone there to make the ride.”

“They could have come by boat.”

“Maybe. But if they did, they’d have to be fools. Who would risk the Osson ships raiding off the coast?”

And if they were seamen, where did they get the horses? And what kind of seaman went touring around the countryside and left his ship unguarded against an attack? No, these weren’t seamen. They were trouble.

The three men tied their horses to the split-rail fence post and walked over to the greeter’s wagon. The woman there welcomed them and give them a cup of sweet well water from the water barrel and directed them to the food tables. The girls at the tables removed the fly cloths to reveal meat pies, cheese, and honey cakes. There were also roasted nuts there and fresh apricots. The woman at the cook fire next to the table removed the lid from the pottage and gave it a stir to show how deliciously thick it was and allow the aroma to fill the men’s nostrils.

The men surveyed all that was displayed, and the guard watched them closely to make sure they didn’t filch a crumb, for that food had been earning them all a lot of copper as well. It seemed the thrill of hearing the tale and seeing the beast produced large appetites and loose purses.

And it appeared that was no different with these three, for after a bit of haggling, the man with kohl eyes bought cheese and meat pies and divvied them up with his companions. And then the three of them sauntered over to where a guide was waiting.

Kohl Eyes pointed out into the field behind the guard. “That great lump out there in the field—is that it?”

The guide, an older man who carved fabulous toys, said, “Oh, yes indeed. A beast most fearsome. You can see its wicked teeth, the size of which will astound you. And then there are the talons and claws. The terrible eyes. You will see its very blood on the grass round about.”

“How do we know it isn’t pig’s blood?” the big hairy one asked.

“Oh, no, there were now pigs here. No, you’ll see it is quite authentic.”

“How much?” Kohl eye asked.

“How much blood?” the woodcarver asked. “Plenty, I can assure you. Why, the ground is black with it.”

“No, how much for the tour?”

The woodcarver smiled at his mistake. “Oh dear. How silly of me. I see now. I see. It’s one birdseye to see the sight of a lifetime. A monster from legend. But not only that. I will tell you the tale of the battle. I will walk you to the camp where you will see one of the spears that was snapped in the fight. You’ll hike up to the hill where you can see one of the arrows that struck the largest of the three creatures. You’ll see exactly where it fell when the creature ripped it out of its wing. It will be as if you were there with the roaring and trumpeting splitting the sky, and the drover and his little band scurrying about and fighting for their lives. And then you will come down from the hill and view the sky terror up close. Everyone who stands next to it is amazed. And it costs one mere birdseye per person.”

Two other guides were here. Both were out with other groups. One was on the hill talking to three families from Woodstrife. The other was leading a man and his three daughters to the beast. And it was true that all who saw the creature were amazed. The guard himself was still amazed even after hearing the tale and seeing the sights multiple times.

Kohl Eye bit into his meat pie and chewed. “And this was two days ago?”

“Two days ago, just as the sun was sinking in the west, the first of the creatures appeared. I will show you the very rock upon which it landed and the scratch marks it left there.”

“You said there were three of them?”

“Indeed, indeed. Three terrors. And as your guide, I will tell you about each one of them.”

“When did the drover leave?” Kohl Eye asked.

The woodcarver smiled. “Oh, immediately after the battle, good sir. We gave him a wagon and mule. And a good sturdy pony.”

“We heard he was traveling north.”

“They headed for the coast, to join up with an escort that would lead them safely to Broniss and the Queen.”

It was a lie, of course. The drover had not gone to the coast. Two crews of Osson scum had landed there and made a camp up one of the inlets along the coast road. Reports claimed they were around a hundred or hundred and fifty strong. That was a nice-sized war band, and the fact that they were there had everyone on edge, for it meant Gallas the Bloody, king of Osson, was truly coming to bring their blessed Corwenna, mage queen of Akken, to heel. Gallas, the pig, was coming to slaughter her and all who supported her. If the drover went that way, he’d be killed and his cattle stolen.

So he’d taken the road west toward Gorland, which was madness if you asked the guard. The wildmen of Gorland were no friends of Akken. Plus a stretch of that road ran close to the blight. Nobody in their right mind would go that way, but the drover had insisted.

There had been brutal-looking runes on the largest korrog. Marks of a wolf mage. Marks that would give any man the shivers. It was probably some filth cooked up by Osson wizards. Either way, news of such black arts had to be taken to the mage queen. And quickly. And so the drover had left to do just that.

He’d asked the villagers to tell everyone he took the coast road. He was worried that brigands might steal the carcass of the korrog he took with him, for the body of such a creature could bring profit just as the one here did. Great profits. He’d also been worried about his cattle. And so the villagers had agreed. Although the guard didn’t know how long the secret could be kept.

“How many men were with the drover?” the bald skinny one asked.

The guard narrowed his eyes, becoming wary of their intentions.

“Well, that is the thing,” the woodcarver said. “That’s part of what makes the events here so miraculous. There were five boys, although one was bigger than most men. Five boys, one dog, a cook, and the headman. You will thrill when you hear about their courage. And you will feel sorrow, for two of our neighbors came to help and met a terrible end. The money we collect here goes to support their families who, as you can imagine, are disconsolate with grief.”

“To the coast, you say?” Kohl Eye asked. “But Osson has taken the coast road.  And Pencoy’s down in Dob’s Port, so who was their escort?”

These three were asking a lot of questions about the drover. The guard’s suspicions rose.

The woodcarver smiled. “Oh, I don’t know those details. Although I did hear Lord Pencoy arranged for the cattle to be pastured by one of the villages between here and Larkin-on-the-Rye. So they could be there.”

That was another lie.

“Maybe we’ll just go talk to them,” the big hairy one said. “Hear the story right from the source.”

“You may indeed,” the woodcarver said. “You may indeed. But I say, why not do both? There’s nothing to compare to hearing the story at the very site of the battle. There’s nothing like seeing the creature where it fell.”

The woodcarver was smooth as butter, but the guard wanted to steer the conversation away from the drover. His little band had no escort. Nothing but one cattle dog for protection. And if the wrong sort went after them, well, that drover might find himself hard pressed indeed.

Of course, that crew of men and boys had killed two korrogs and driven off a third, so maybe they could take care of themselves. It wasn’t any of the guard’s business. And it certainly wasn’t the business of these three louts. Besides, there were others coming down the road to hear the tale, and he didn’t want these three souring their experience. 

The guard said, “So do you three want to see the sights and hear the tale, or would you like to move along?”

“Oh, we’ll see it,” said Kohl Eye and held three birdseyes out to the tailor’s son. “We wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“You won’t regret it,” the woodcarver said. “I promise you. Now, come with me to see where they made their camp. They told us they had seen something three times on three different nights in the sky. They thought it merely a fancy. But on the morning, before they arrived here, they awoke to find that something had dragged a heifer and two yearlings out of the large paddock next to where they had camped. Right from under their noses.

“Can you imagine? What power must a creature possess to do that? Well, they followed the blood trail and found that not only had it killed the cattle and eaten their choicest parts, but it had also scuffed grass and dirt onto them. You know what that means, of course. You can imagine the shock and horror the little band must have felt upon seeing such a sight, knowing the creature could, at any moment, return to its kills. They immediately broke camp and hurried the cattle here, hoping to find safety.”

The woodcarver continued walking and talking. The three men ate their meat pies and followed him out into the field.

The guard turned to the short arrowsmith who’d brought two of his bulldogs for added security. “When those three come off the hill to go view the beast, make sure you meet them there with your dogs. Keep an eye on them. Do not let them pluck even a hair from the beast’s body.”

The arrowsmith patted one of the bulldog’s head. “We’ll be happy to keep them honest, we will.”

The guard nodded and thought about sending someone to go with the woodcarver. The woodcarver was smooth, but he also liked to talk. And talking sometimes led even the most circumspect to blab about things they shouldn’t.

He was about to send someone when then the tailor’s son spoke up. “Now, look at that crew!”

The guard looked down the road. There was crowd of at least thirty people heading this way. Men, women, children, and a few dogs, all come to see the spectacle.

“Did I tell you?” the tailor’s son asked.

The guard rolled his eyes. “Are you going to say with every donkey, dog, and rat that comes round that bend?”

“I’m just saying.”

This crowd looked friendly, but there were a few young boys among them. Odds were some of them would be tempted to filch some food off the tables. And maybe some of the others would try to sneak in without paying.

The guard looked out at the woodcarver and the three men. They were almost halfway to the campsite. Surely, the woodcarver wouldn’t let anything slip. And it didn’t matter anyway—with such a crowd, the guard needed all eyes and hands here.

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