“Can you stand and loose from there?” Loudin called out to Mikahl.
Mikahl hopped up, and mocked the action of drawing and releasing an arrow. It looked to Loudin as if a head and torso had just popped up from thin air and he nodded his satisfaction.
“With ease,” Mikahl responded competently. The hunter couldn’t help but notice a smile on the boy’s face. He wasn’t sure yet if that was a good sign or not.
“All right then Mik. Come over here and start digging.”
“Digging?”
“Aye!” Loudin laughed.
His entire part in the plan hinged on whether Mikahl could hit his target on the very first shot. He hoped the castle born boy wouldn’t throw down his bow and flee, the way he had when the lizard had attacked his pack horse. Loudin wasn’t even sure he wanted to make this stand with Mikahl. What exactly was it he was risking his life for? A lizard skin? He knew he could easily take the boy’s horse, elude him, and the other pursuers, if he wanted to. He had lived in this forest for the last half dozen years and he knew its ways well. He wasn’t doing this just for the lizard skin, he decided. As much as he hated to admit it, he liked the boy. Something deep inside him was compelling him to protect Mikahl. What it was, he wasn’t sure, but the compulsion was there, and he couldn’t ignore it.
“If there are four or five of them, we might be setting a trap for ourselves,” Loudin said, in an explanation of his command to dig. “We can’t afford to put all of our coins in one pouch.”
Duke Fairchild had almost killed Tully on the spot, for being so ignorant as to stick his arm into a trap. He would have, but Tully’s keen tracking skills might still be needed. Something as simple as a silver coin had tricked the man. Now, his arm was a ruin, and it was his sword arm at that.
Duke Fairchild found himself impressed with the cleverness of his prey. The choice of baits laid in the jaws of the three traps, told him a lot about the two men he was after. Setting one of the traps to catch a man, was ruthless and smart. They had known they were being followed, and Tully’s scream had told them what sort of a predator was stalking them. He was just happy that Garth found the other traps. A horse could have easily been crippled there.
The Duke decided that it would be better to wait for daylight. There was no telling what other sort of traps the squire and his companion might’ve left for them. He considered it a pity that the lamp light was needed to tend to Tully’s arm. Its light would tell his prey that he was stopping, which, in turn, would give them a few more hours distance and the time they might need to set more pitfalls, or maybe even an ambush.
When the sun finally colored the forest an amber gray, they were already up and moving, and had been for awhile. Even the horses were eager to resume the pursuit. Tully’s arm had been splinted and wrapped tightly with pieces of torn canvas. The Duke had given him a dose of his personal elixir. It would dampen the fool’s pain and make his mind as sharp as Wildermont steel for awhile. Fairchild always kept some of the sweet medicine on hand, in case he was ever wounded in the field. An expensive blend of ground flower seeds, and Harthgarian herbs, mixed with fine brandy wine and honey. Only the wealthiest of men could afford the luxury of it. Tully would get no more of it after the squire was captured, no matter how badly he was hurting.
They made good time, even though they were being extremely cautious, and looking for more traps. The forest was still too spread out for an ambush, the Duke figured, so he pushed them on. Tully rode out in front, wincing, as his trotting horse jostled his wounded arm. Garth was next in line. Fairchild would let them find the trap if there was one. His level of awareness was increasing as the morning wore on. His blood was beginning to tingle with the thrill of the hunt, but his patience was wearing thin. He was just beginning to think that Tully had lost the trail, or maybe his dose of elixir had worn off, when the tracker all of a sudden reigned up his horse.
“They stopped here.” Tully pointed ahead, as Garth, then the Duke, gained his side.
Fairchild sensed deception here, and slowly scanned the area. It was still too open for an ambush, he decided. Nevertheless, he drew his sword quickly from its scabbard.
“Ready your bow,” he ordered Garth. Something in his guts was telling him to beware. “Tully, go search the area around us and tell us what you see.”