The Legacy of Mount Drood

Chapter 13

Captain Gar drove his men mercilessly. There were no rest stops, no stops to water the horses. They just rode and rode hard, taking the wide circle around the Great Plain. When finally one of the horses collapsed from exhaustion, Gar, cursing and swearing, reigned in his mount and ordered a halt. The soldier whose horse collapsed was ordered ahead on foot, so as not to hold up the others when they started up again.

The men sat sullenly in a circle away from their commander; each one imagining how they would gladly kill him there and then. By evening of that same day, they halted once again. This time it was on the outskirts of a small village of grass huts. When they approached the village on foot, dozens of small people surrounded them waving ropes and long knives and steering them into the centre of the village.

"Who is your leader?" Gar roared, glaring at the crowd.

"I holdeth the honour of being the community's Elder." A weak voice announced, the owner limping forward, helped by two younger men. "Who are thee?"

"I am Captain of the King of Graf's guard, Gar DeBain. Feed and water my men's animals." A murmur rose up from the crowd and Gar's men closed ranks, hands on weapons.

"Thee don't command here, Gar DeBain; food and water are for sale only." Gar reached for his sword, threatening the small man but in an instant he and his men were smothered in coils of rope, tangling their limbs and restricting their movement. "Thee hath the manners of a lout, sir, probably a friend of the other soldier we caught earlier."

*****

Gar struggled uselessly against the grass ties about his wrists and ankles. In a similar fashion, his men were bound back to back in a circle. He couldn't help looking across from the circle at the strangely contorted shape of his man whom he had sent across the Great Plain, wondering at his strange behaviour.

Weird, ear-grating music came from several strange instruments played by a group of tiny women all wearing grass costumes. A large fire shot sparks into the night air, twinkling brightly before falling back to earth. A trio of men approached the prisoners bearing large bowls filled with a pasty gruel, which they set down at the edge of the circle.

"Thee will be loosed one at a time to eat. Any man who breaketh this trust receives the sentence of the Elder." A spine-tingling moan erupted from the mouth of the man captured earlier. "Your friend understandeth."

"You will rue the day you did this, you scum." Gar's scar flamed red beneath the patch and he jerked hard against his bonds. "Give me your names so I may burn them into my memory."

"We have not names. We are all Huths." One of the men untied a soldier, and holding a deadly looking knife against his side, led him over to the bowl.

"What slop is this I'm meant to eat?" The man looked at the odd coloured paste in the bowl.

"'Tis a Huthwheat gruel, rich in flavour and goodness. Thee will eat or do without!"

One by one, the men were released to eat and when Gar's turn came, all three of the Huths kept their knives on him.

"I demand to speak to your Elder. We are on King's business and will brook no nonsense from villains such as you." He faked a lunge, throwing a scare into his captors. "Hah! I fear not your Elder's sentence. Bring him to me—now!"

After a long period, the music stopped and a procession of Huths left the fire and approached the prisoners.

"Thee maketh demands, Gar DeBain? Thee ridicule the edicts of the Huths?" He studied the other prisoners, noticing their glassy-eyed expressions and relaxed postures. "Thy men appear to have accepted their lot."

Gar ignored the taunt, spitting at the little man's feet. "Untie me now or suffer the consequences!"

The Elder gave a sharp signal with his hand and several men rushed forward, untying one of the soldiers and dragged him away from the group. "Light the torches!" The Elder commanded. "Thee will see what it is to threaten my people." He gave another signal and Gar and his men watched their companion hauled toward the edge of the Great Plain.

Torches stood all along the border, illuminating the prisoner and his handlers. At the sign of another signal, they dragged the man onto the plain, crushing the grass, and left him lying in a pool of torchlight. The moments passed in silence except for the pleas of the prisoner who sounded more confused than frightened.

Gar was about to berate the crowd with sarcasm when suddenly, the grass and the ground around the man began to heave and tremble. In an instant, the prisoner's frantic scream vanished along with his body, leaving nothing but a freshly disturbed section of soil.

"Be not mistaken, Gar DeBain, thee will not see thy soldier again, nor the one that crossed the plain on foot."

Unnerved, but still defiant, Gar vowed as how he would not be disposed of quite so easily and continued to threaten the Huths with reprisals from the King of Graf.

"We want no trouble with your king, nor do we wish to fight with you, but unless you give some assurance that, if we free thee, thee will depart immediately and never return. I caution thee, Gar DeBain, false promises demand high payment."

Gar glared at the Elder, thinking how it would feel to crush the little scum beneath his boot. "I will agree to your demand on one condition. You will tell me if the lad I seek passed this way and what was his destination."

The Elder looked surprised, turning to his people and shrugging with confusion. "Do I have thy word?"

"Yes, you have the word of the King's Captain." Gar snarled. One day he would return and slaughter the lot of them, he vowed silently.

"There is but one direction from here, and that is west, to Nygard. As for the person thee seek, I have no knowledge of such—"

"Master Elder," a voice called from the crowd, and a middle-aged Huth stepped forward. "Two days past a young man crossed the Great Plain," a gasp went up from the crowd, "and asked for directions to Nygard. I told him the way."

"Very well, our bargain is struck then. Release the prisoners and guide them to their horses and the edge of the village." The Elder watched as his people obeyed, sighing with relief when the crude soldiers had left.

*****

Mary sat uncomfortably atop the bundles on Derrick's wagon, alert to the discomfiting stares she was getting from Dolly. William had spent a long time talking to Derrick, convincing him to help them find Jep before the soldiers. In the end, after accepting the news of Jep's parents with grave misgivings, he had agreed to join the couple in their search. The great adventure was back on, he believed.

Derrick assured them that he could cross the Great Plain without difficulty and they would be close behind the soldiers who had to go all the way around. True to his word, they passed across the plain without incident after Derrick spent some time calling down a hole by the edge of the plain as well as dropping down some pieces of jewellery in payment. At the end of the day, they reached the far side and made a formal request to spend the night in the Huth village.

William learned all about Gar DeBain's visit from the Elder, explaining to him, as a matter of courtesy and with an eye to developing an alliance, all the circumstances surrounding the current events. Angry that he had released the soldiers without knowing their plans, the Elder assigned Mokum Huth, the man who first encountered Jep, to accompany them to Nygard.

The Huths traded regularly with the people of Nygard and Mokum would be able to smooth their passage in and out of the city. After a solid night's sleep and a hearty breakfast of Huthwheat gruel for the Huths, the quartet departed the village and headed rapidly for Nygard.