Adversaries Together by Daniel Casey Page B

stones. He moved
deliberately as the rain began to fall again, “but more in this
piss.” Declan drew out his monocular from his chest pocket as the
rain came down harder. It had been on and off for the last few days
but now the rain fell more constant. He spied the alm and paladin
on the road huddled under an open side canvas tarp they had set up,
their horses standing forlorn near them.
    In the small circle of his monocular, he
entertained the idea of interceding, of coming down to them and
letting them know what he had found. The thought was quickly
quashed. Tobin had said to follow and report, he said nothing about
engagement.
    He put the monocular down and continued to
stare towards the pair, “I could just scout, tho,” he mumbled,
“couldn’t hurt. I get nothing if these twits die.” Nodding he
furrowed his brow, “But these brigands,” he slide down the boulders
with ease, his feet hitting the sponge-like earth, and his hooded
cloak slapping against his leathers with heavy with water. He
hadn’t realized just how soaked he had gotten. He scanned the woods
again, “Sure they wanna snatch ‘em,” he let out a long sigh then
let his head drop. “Yep. Gonna have to poke around a bit.”
    Declan stood and made his way through the
thickening woods that climbed up towards the Glen Mark hills. The
trees lightened the rain a bit but not enough to provide any real
relief. His own camp was well back into these woods. He stopped
after he had passed a wide dead stump and stared up at a nearby
tall thick tree. Declan began to climb and found his pack untouched
where he had stashed it about twenty feet off the ground. He pulled
his monocular from around his neck for another peek at the
pair.
    The alm was now sitting alone around a fire.
He panned along the road until he found the paladin tending horses.
The canvas tarp was now more of a proper tent but the two still
looked like specters in the rain as their dark forms moved against
the grey backdrop. They were settled for the evening. Now would be
the best time for him to get eyes on the newcomers. Declan drew his
coat tighter around him whispering as he shimmied back down the
tree, “Corsairs in a storm on a moor…hope they’re land sick.”

    42 nd of Lammas

    The muddied road slowed the pair’s pace to
Mircha Crossing, but Declan was glad for it as it allowed him to
set up a more comfortable tree stand to monitor the two from a safe
distance. The week before he had found the camp of the bandits
easily enough, it seemed as though they had given up any attempt at
genuine stealth. Still he had kept his distance and hadn’t been
able to get a confident count. What he did have confirmed was that
the men were definitely corsairs, so not casual or workmen
seafarers. Declan was mystified why someone would hire pirates for
this, it just seemed ham-fisted.
    He brought his monocular up to his eye,
“Well,” he sighed, “Let’s see tha dance.”
    Hidden in plain sight, the bandits had
covered themselves with a brush blind. Once the paladin was nearly
on top of them, it was tossed aside and three men sprang out in an
almost comical manner. Declan couldn’t help himself and snorted as
he watched. It would have been a joke, if it hadn’t been painfully
real. And painful it was, almost instantly the paladin was down off
his horse mace in hand in a stance that shocked Declan it was so
commanding. The crusader was reacting with a stunning quickness
whereas the alm and her steed seemed frozen in time.
    Even from where he was, Declan could hear the
paladin bellow—a harsh piercing voice telling her to run. It was
enough to snap her back to the present situation, but not enough to
jar her good sense. The girl leapt from the horse and ran off.
Declan had never seen anyone run so fast, one moment she was there
and the next gone. She bolted, a combination of long strides and
falling as she flew down off the highroad and into the marsh
cutting a sloppy path through the unknown