Deeds of Their Past - 12. Chapter Twelve

Nathan woke some time in the late afternoon. Brohm lay dead asleep on his back, snoring lightly, his massive chest rising and falling. A small smile crept on Nathan’s face as he watched, only to be interrupted by his fiercely growling stomach.

Eyeing the saddlebag hanging from a low branch, he quietly padded over, and found within the last of their original food store. Despite his hunger, he forced himself to eat slowly. At the base of the tree trunk sat a wineskin filled with water, and he popped the stopper to quench his thirst. Sated, he lay against the trunk and watched the trees sway gently in the wind. After the long day they’d had, he wasn’t in a rush to get moving, and he certainly didn’t want to wake Brohm.

Hoofbeats approaching from the road east broke the silence, and scrambling to the edge of the copse, he spotted five men on horseback galloping north on the road. An attempt to make out details proved impossible due to the distance. Watching in anticipation, he silently pleaded for them to keep going.

It didn’t work. They suddenly stopped and milled about, clearly looking for something. One man retraced his steps, and then pointed in Nathan’s direction.

“Brohm, wake up,” he said as loud as he dared.

He quickly tacked one of the horses, and then glanced back to see the men cautiously traversing the rough terrain toward them. Nathan ran to the big man, shaking him violently.

“Get up!”

He woke with a start and angrily pushed Nathan over. “Hey! What’s the big idea?” he growled.

Nathan picked himself up. “We gotta run! They’ve tracked us down!”

“What! How?” he asked incredulously.

“No time. Grab the stuff.”

Nathan rushed back to the treeline and rapidly tacked the other horse. Brohm arrived with his sword already belted, and re-strung the saddlebag, all the while peering at the approaching group. The western sun, positioned in their favour, shone in the eyes of the five men, and simultaneously drew deep shadow where Nathan and Brohm stood. Quickly leading their mounts west through the trees and out the opposite side, they found a featureless landscape beyond.

“There’s nowhere to hide,” Brohm said.

Nathan reached for his quiver and bow. “Come on, let’s get some distance. I’d rather run than fight this bunch.”

They urged their horses to gallop dangerously across the uneven ground, cresting small hills too shallow to hide themselves from view. Brohm called attention to a large outcropping to the northwest, and Nathan nodded in agreement, changing their direction. Glancing back, he caught sight of the men emerging from the trees. They rushed to the far side of the jagged rock protruding from the earth, its highest point nearly five metres high, easily hiding them.

“You reckon they saw us?” Brohm asked.

“Hard to say. I couldn’t tell if they were giving chase or just scouting.”

Unsatisfied with Nathan’s answer, Brohm sighed in frustration and dismounted. Jogging the short distance to the edge of the outcropping, he peered over carefully.

“You see anything?” Nathan asked.

Brohm pulled his sword from its scabbard, face red with anger. “Yuh, they’re coming. I’m getting real tired of this.”

Nathan dismounted, checked his dagger and nocked an arrow while Brohm fell back to his position. “I won’t fire unless they see us.”

Brohm grunted affirmingly.

The riders quickly arrived, charging past the outcropping without stopping. Nathan was about to drop to the ground when one trooper glanced back and saw them. Before getting a chance to alert his fellows, Nathan loosed an arrow. It lodged itself into the man’s head, and he flopped over, falling off his mount.

Mayhem instantly ensued.

The two riders at the rear of the formation attempted to dodge the fallen body, but their mounts tripped on the uneven terrain, throwing them head over heels to the ground. Nathan used the distraction to nock another arrow, firing at one of the lead men. It flew wide, harmlessly grazing an armoured shoulder.

Brohm meanwhile ran headlong into the fray, waving his sword overhead and bellowing out a savage warcry. The two lead troopers quickly leaped from their mounts to meet his attack. Nathan nocked a third arrow, carefully aiming at the same lead man, all the while keeping track of Brohm’s wild movements. It found its target, sliding through the man’s neck. The trooper’s sword clattered to the ground and he dropped to his knees, grasping at the grievous wound.

The remaining man glanced about at his downed fellows, and then back to Brohm. Teeth bared, he met him with a warcry of his own, exchanging heated sword blows. The trooper fought well, but ultimately Brohm’s superior strength dashed the sword out of his hand, and he rammed his blade deep into the trooper’s belly. The leather armour he wore did little to stop it. The stunned man dropped to his knees with the sword still embedded in his gut. Brohm took a step forward and wrapped hands around his head. With a swift jerk and an audible snap, the body tumbled to the ground in a heap.

Nathan reached the big man, finding fire in his eyes. “You okay?”

Brohm kicked the nearest body in response.

They inspected the two downed men flung from their horses. The first they came upon was sprawled face down. Pushing the body over revealed his head had violently smashed into a rock. Blood ran everywhere, and gore oozed from what used to be his face.

“I reckon the bugger didn’t see that coming,” Brohm said in a grim tone.

They found the second trooper lying on his back, unharmed yet unconscious.

“What should we do with him?” Nathan asked.

Brohm kicked the man roughly in an attempt to rouse him. When that didn’t work, he kicked again. “Get up!” he bellowed.

The trooper came to, groaning and rubbing his head. It took a moment to realize his predicament, and he flinched as Brohm loomed over him.

“You tell your boss to leave us alone, or there’s gonna be more blood on his hands.” To accentuate his point, he pulled his blade and held it to the man’s throat. “Got it?”

The trooper nodded slowly, and glanced over with wide eyes at his fallen comrades. He swallowed hard.

Brohm sheathed his sword. “Good. Now get going.”

The man, still in shock, remained motionless.

Brohm shook a fist. “Don’t make me change my mind. Go!”

The trooper found his wits and scrambled to the nearest horse, tripping over his own feet on the way. Climbing up, he glanced back at the two of them, fear still staining his features. With a kick in the horse’s flank, rode off back the way he’d come.

Nathan tentatively laid a hand on Brohm’s shoulder, feeling his tense muscles jerk at the touch. “Come on. Let’s get back to the road before it gets dark.”

Brohm grunted reluctantly.

* * *

They travelled the dirt road, its direction shifting northeast once dusk was upon them. Nathan sensed Brohm’s stewing anger, wishing he could take it away, but found it hard to think positive himself given the circumstances. The countryside remained sparse as they rode through the night, and once the early morning sun made its appearance, they decided to stretch their legs and eat.

“How’re you doing?” Nathan risked asking.

“Fine. Sorry about before. I’m just tired of being chased.”

Nathan sighed and nodded. He felt their escape was truly hopeless, that they were delaying the inevitable, but decided to keep his dark thoughts to himself.

“I hope your friend in Morringstone can help us out,” Brohm said.

“I know he’s helped a few guys to disappear, so to speak. I’ve no idea what’s involved though.”

“Do you trust him?”

“Trust?” Nathan hesitated before continuing. “We didn’t part ways on the best of terms. Regardless, I still think it’s the best option we have right now.”

Brohm looked down at the bit of jerky in his hand, and passed it to him. “I’m not hungry anymore,” he muttered. “I reckon we should get moving.”

Hours passed riding through the foothills, and as the sun rose, it lit the great mountain range to the north. Layers of misty peaks, most of them snowcapped, reached beyond their view. Scrubby brush gave way to gravel and rocky terrain. The road diminished to a narrow lane once they made reached the entrance of the pass. They slowed to a trot and Brohm led the way.

“When did you travel through this pass?” Nathan asked.

“It was a long time ago, before I left home. I was with my pa.”

“You remember the way?”

“It’s not a maze or anything like that. I remember there was always just a single pathway.”

“Hopefully that path’s still there,” Nathan mused.

Reaching the entrance proper, the trail wormed its way around large boulders as it climbed up. The incline was gentle and their horses were able to traverse the path with relative ease. Towering rock and steep cliff faces on both sides clearly defined the pass, setting their way in deep shadow.

The morning dragged on, and he caught Brohm yawning more than once, mirroring his own weariness. The feelings of despair that burdened Nathan had lifted. He felt safer in the pass, knowing it was unlikely they’d run into patrols, or anybody for that matter, and hoped the long way through would give them a reprieve from the chase.

“You want to stop and rest?” Nathan asked.

“I reckon we should push on as long as we can. Travelling at night isn’t a good idea.”

Nearing noontide, shadow gave way to sunlight beaming overhead. The temperature had dropped imperceptibly over the course of the morning, and he enjoyed the warmth the sun brought, but before long, it moved on, leaving them in shadow again. By mid-afternoon, they’d climbed out of the gorge and came upon a small clearing amid the mountains.

“I reckon this would be a good place to call it a day, yuh?” Brohm said, dismounting slowly and yawning again.

Tall crags surrounded the narrow clearing, and Nathan judged it around twenty metres wide and one-hundred metres long. The ground was mostly bedrock, with weeds and hardgrass sprouting out through the cracks. A dead, leafless tree loomed nearby. Its wind-blown limbs reminded Nathan of an old crone reaching for them with long, gnarled fingers.

They gathered wood and set up camp where sheer rock of an overhead cliff shielded them from the wind. Once settled, they sat with their backs against stone, and ate while casually surveying the area. There was a gentle silence, broken only by the echo of sporadic raven caws.

Nathan was exhausted, and given Brohm’s constant yawning, assumed he felt the same, yet night was still hours away. Regardless, he slouched back a bit and allowed his heavy eyes to close, telling himself it would just be for a few minutes.

He thought he heard distant footsteps and opened his eyes, surprised to find emerging stars twinkling in a darkening sky, and the orange remnants of daylight glowing above the western spires. His brief respite had become a long nap, and he couldn’t decide if the footsteps were from a half-remembered dream. He suddenly shivered in the cold. The campfire they’d set up earlier wasn’t lit, and Brohm was nowhere to be seen.

“Brohm?”

No answer came, and a sudden sense of déjà vu hit him. Instead of calling out again, he rose and stepped along the narrow clearing toward the path. Deep, uneven gashes in the craggy walls constructed stark shadows that played tricks in his eye. He stopped, examining one area to his right, questioning if he saw movement. The sound of water splashing came farther ahead, and he shivered again, suddenly feeling uneasy.

“Brohm,” he said, nearly a whisper.

Still no answer.

Nathan continued on, nervously glancing both ways for any sign of movement while his imagination continued to play tricks on him. The sound of water halted and everything fell silent, except for a noise he couldn’t place. Faint and uneven rustling movement, possibly an animal. He instinctively pulled his dagger.

Suddenly, a large shape emerged from one of the dark gashes on his left and instantly saw Nathan. It was Brohm, and he yelled out in surprise, reaching for his sword.

“Thank the gods it’s only you,” Nathan cried out, sheathing his dagger. “What are you doing?”

“Can’t a guy take a leak in peace?” Brohm asked after recovering from his initial fright.

The mysterious sound of water quickly made sense to Nathan, and he burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Brohm asked, annoyed. “You keep catching me doing my business.”

“I’m sorry,” Nathan said in between laughing fits. “Gods, you scared me so badly.”

“I scared you? You scared me half to death sneaking up like that!”

Once they arrived back at camp, Nathan couldn’t help shivering again.

“You cold?” Brohm asked.

“Yeah.”

Nathan fished out a woollen shirt and trousers from his rucksack, along with a thick blanket. The garb was large enough to wear in layers over his clothing to hold in the warmth. Meanwhile, Brohm started a fire, the dry wood catching easily. Given the amount of wood they scavenged, it was small, but enough to keep their sheltered corner warm.

“Thanks,” Nathan said, warming his hands.

Brohm smiled and nodded.

“Aren’t you cold?” Nathan asked, noting Brohm had never changed into his warmer clothing.

“Nah, I’m always too hot. This cooler air feels nice.”

Nathan reached over to touch his exposed neck. It felt like an oven. “Whoa, you weren’t kidding.”

Brohm laughed.

They sat together for a while, losing themselves in the hypnotic flames. Bizarre animal calls echoed distant in the dark. Brohm yawned, his eyes weary.

“You shouldn’t have let me nap for so long,” Nathan said. “I’m not tired at all.”

“I didn’t want to wake you up. You looked so peaceful. Anyway, I reckon we should take turns keeping watch tonight."

“Yeah, good call. You sleep. I’ll stand watch, and wake you up later.”

Brohm lay down on his side, closing his eyes, and in mere moments was breathing deeply, fast asleep. Nathan covered him with the blanket, content to watch him sleep for a time.

The strange calls returned, but still distant enough to not be a cause for alarm. As the evening wore on, Nathan made a few rounds, but felt the area was secure enough that he could remain near the fire.

Hours passed into the night, and he felt his eyes growing heavy again. Placing the remaining logs onto the glowing embers, they quickly caught fire. Shuffling over to Brohm’s prone body, he gently shook his shoulder.

“Brohm?”

He stirred from his sleep with a snort.

“Your turn,” Nathan said.

Brohm seemed confused for a moment, looking at him through half-closed eyes. “Yuh, okay l’il buddy,” he mumbled, yawning.

They traded places, and Nathan tucked himself under the blanket, finding the stone ground remarkably warm where Brohm had been. He snuggled into the warmth as best he could and let sleep take him.