"Heart of the Crown" Chapter 44

[seymoure]

Chapter 44

The Pass

It took nearly an hour of walking to make Slip understand that there was no other path they could have taken but to leave Cela behind.

“She will join us soon,” Sandor reassured him.

The small man and Hawk shot a glance at each other that said, “I doubt that, but don’t say anything to the kid.”

They reached a point where they could look out over the road down from the mountain top.

It had seemed at first that they were in some kind of canyon or valley when they came out of the cave. But it was soon clear that they had been at the top of a range that was so jagged that ups and downs were a constantly changing fact of life.

When they reached the overlook, they could see for dozens of miles in any directions. Perhaps they could see for a hundred miles.

“How long was the trip going to be if this cut off so much?” Sandor wondered.

“Just be thankful that Cela knew how to shorten it,” Slip said, and kicked a rock out of his way as he walked.

Their mood had turned from jubilant to wretched in mere seconds. The prospect of weeks on the road did not elevate that depression at all.

They walked close to the wall of stone, with a drop off of hundreds of feet on their left. They zigged and zagged as the narrow mountain road snaked above the world below.

“Three of us left,” Hawk said.

“Our company near cut in half,” the short man said.

“But we still must protect the child and get him where he needs to go,” Sandor reinforced.

“Perhaps I can shorten the trip for you even further,” came a voice they did not recognize.

From around a turn in the road came a man, encircled by a half a dozen others, and they were all armed to the teeth.

“Let me introduce myself to you, my friends,” the man said in a tone that spoke of influence and control. “I am Count . . .”

“Gerathio,” Hawk remembered and spoke at once.

“I am so pleased you recall me. It is a compliment,” he smiled.

“Like I would remember having a growth removed,” was the reply.

The Count chuckled but did not betray any emotion other than conviviality.

“Then you must remember,” he continued, as his men tensed, “that my charge is to terminate your charge.”

“Those who have tried that have not ended well,” Slip spat.

“You will not be so lucky this time,” Count Gerathio told them. “Your magic is gone, you are outnumbered, and we are all out in the open.”

His words could not have been truer.

Slip knew that if this were a gambling event, he would not put his money on his side of the line.

“What say we finish this,” the nobleman said.

Hawk was taking an arrow out when the dagger hit him in the chest.

Two sliced into Slip: one just above the knee and the other in the shoulder, deep.

The two men fell under the effect of the quick-acting poisons that had coated the tips of the weapons.

Sandor stood alone, and the other side was advancing with no mercy perceivable in their eyes.

© 2008 C. Wayne Owens
Chapter 45 is here.