Old Tree (Photo: libraryoferana)
A story in 6 parts.
If you would like to read it all in one (7500 words) click here.
Read On Tarryoh (Part 3) - A Foot in Two Camps here.
Read On Tarryoh (Part 4) - Out of the Frying Pan here.
Your feedback would be greatly appreciated to improve this story. Thanks!
On Tarryoh
Part 5
The Die is Cast
Another grey dawn hung
above the trees. Darby heard a small scouting party chatting on the road and
crept through the forest to avoid them. He stopped for a moment beside an
enormous oak tree. The guardian and militia camp must be close. He took a deep
breath, adjusted his backpack on his shoulders and stepped forward. Two hands
grabbed his arm. In a blinding whirl he was lifted off his feet and thrown to
the ground. He landed heavily on his back. Before he could react the helmeted
assailant twisted is arm and rolled him onto his belly. His arm was pulled up
his back and a knee, with the full weight of the body above it, thudded into
the small of his back. A boot stamped down on his free arm. Then he felt the
blade of a knife against his throat and a voice hissed in his ear. “Tell me why
I shouldn’t kill you right now, traitor.”
Darby blinked and let
out a breath. Every nerve in his body burned with the sensation of the knife’s cold
steel against his skin.
“Tell me.” the voice
hissed again.
“Because I love you and
would not betray you, or Tarryoh.”
“I don’t not believe
you,” Ashleen snapped, “on either count.”
“I found my brother. He…”
“He is a suspected
traitor, you are not helping your case.” Ashleen wrenched his arm further up his
back.
He gasped. “Ash, please.
I have a letter for the general. She must read it before the nomads arrive. My
brother’s life depends on it.”
“We have orders for any
Tarryoh traitors riding with the nomads to be shot on sight. Including you.”
“Then we must go now. The
nomads captured me and my brother helped me escape. That is not the work of a
traitor.”
“Maybe he sent you to
trick us. Perhaps you can’t see the forest for the trees.”
“Ashleen please. The
letter is inside my jerkin.”
She released the
pressure on his arm slightly. “One false move and I will bury this knife in
your back,” She lifted her knee and stood up. “with great pleasure.”
He slowly pulled himself
to his feet and rubbed his throbbing shoulder. He turned to look at her face,
smudged with dirt and twisted with anger. His shame gripped his heart once
more. More painful than any injury. “Saleesha told you.” he said quietly.
She shoved him forward.
“Move. If you want to help your brother we have no time to waste on useless talk.”
They reached the Tarryoh
camp after a few minutes. As they approached a shout rang out and was repeated
up and down the lines. “Take your positions. Aim for the enemy, do not harm the
animals. Fire only on command.” A row of guardians with old time shot guns moved
into sandbagged positions along both sides of the road as it passed through a
narrow gully. Each guardian moved with a deadly grace. Darby had no doubt their
aim would be as precise as the coiled hair under their metal helmets. He stopped,
reached into his jerkin and thrust the paper into Ashleen’s hand. “Take this to
the general. I have to save my brother.” He spun around and plunged back
through the forest.
“Darby!”
“I’m sorry,” he shouted
over his shoulder, “for everything.” He ran until his aching lungs heaved. He stopped
behind a tree out of sight of the camp. Over the sound of his own panting, he
heard hooves in the distance drumming on the hard packed dirt of the road. His
eyes darted around for a vantage point. He tried to remember his militia
training. For an ambush, how many yards away should the enemy be before you
opened fire? Close enough for effective aim, far enough to prevent an immediate
counter attack. Where would Locke be in the column?
He found a tree that
would do and shinned up the trunk into a fork. It reminded him of the one he
stayed in for two days during his initiation solitude test, minus the wooden
platform for sleeping. There would be no peace and reflection this time. There
was no time for anything, the sound of the hooves was almost upon him. He
loaded his crossbow and settled himself. Behind him he heard guardian archers
moving into position to attack the nomad units behind the leading troops. And
behind them, militia units with metal shields and short, heavy thrusting spears
prepared to mop up the survivors. Back along the road he knew, waited guardian
cavalry behind movable barriers, armed and armoured for the decisive blow to
turn the initial ambush into a rout.
The first nomad horseman
came into view. Time seemed to slow, every hoof fall took an age. Darby focused
on the riders. Row upon row followed. Finally, fifty yards behind the front Darby
spied the nomad leader. Behind him a horseman carried the blue flag with the
white star. Darby caught his breath. Beside the leader was a familiar figure, wide
brimmed leather hat on his head, riding high in the saddle as though he owned the
earth. He looked for all the world like a war lord’s right hand man. It was Locke.
Darby swallowed. What if
he was wrong? What if his brother truly was a traitor? He had not read the note.
Did it contain proof of his brother’s innocence, or merely lies to deceive the guardians
and allow the nomads to devour the countree like a gecko gorged upon the
insects?
They trotted on past
him, chatting in loud voices. Darby couldn’t see any guns. The nomads were
unprepared. Surely that was evidence that his brother was no traitor.
He adjusted his grip on
the crossbow, took one more look at the lead horses and stilled his breath. He
murmured an apology to Earth&Sky,
took aim and fired.
****
Read On Tarryoh (Part 6) Clouded Future, here.
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