Revelyn: 1st Chronicles - When the last arrow falls Read Free Page A

finished long before he could be satisfied. The chase had taken a huge toll upon him. Now that the immediate threat had been removed he felt feverish and so very, very tired. His right thigh was swelling and tightening and as he wiped it clean for the hundredth time, he realised that it was becoming infected. All of a sudden he knew that his injury could prove more dangerous than an army of Wolvers.
    The sun was still three span from setting but he knew he would not easily survive another night in the open. And there were real wolves, even bears about who would quickly find the smell of death in the clearing and by morning not much would be left. It had crossed his mind that he should bury his foes, but even as he entertained that thought he dismissed it immediately. Such an outlay of effort would surely cost him his life, and for no gain. Why not let the wolves eat the Wolvers ? There was a solemn justice in that. Their weapons were another matter. The King’s elite guards were equipped with the best forged swords in all of Revelyn. No ordinary man could ever hope to afford such a thing, but he knew that to be seen with a Wolver’s sword would raise immediate suspicion. No commoner was allowed, on pain of death, to own a weapon of the king, although many coveted such a thing. He was a long way from the safety of his home in the Mighty Mountains of the Central Upthrust, and he had little money, having left his few possessions behind on the other side of the forest in his hurry to escape from the Wolvers. It was tempting to take the swords and discretely sell them to someone willing to take the risk of owning such beautiful weapons. It was rumoured that many a Lowlander was known to keep a secret store of weapons in the hope that one day they might rise and defeat their evil king, Lord Petros Luminos; or as he heralded to all in his captive realm; Lord Peter of Light.
    In the end the man took only one sword and scabbard and hoped that he would be able to use it to barter or sell for a goodly sum. Without money he would not get home, and the way he was beginning to feel he knew he could not travel far till his leg recovered, and that it was going to get a lot worse before it got better. He knew enough of wounds to be sure of that.
    He took out a small and roughly drawn map and studied it carefully before folding it gently and tucking it safely away in his tunic. He reckoned that to the north and east a little, maybe a league or two at most there was a small town or hamlet, surviving on charcoal burning or some simple mining of tin for the king. He was nervous of encountering other Lowlanders so soon after such a deadly chase, but there was little choice, that night he must sleep indoors with a clean wound and a full stomach.
    He removed a cloak from the closest Wolver and carefully wrapped his bow and quiver of two arrows in it. This he strapped to his back with the Wolver’s leather belt, and then limping noticeably, he moved uphill to the far side of the clearing where he came upon what he assumed  was a rough woodcutter’s track and began a weary march a little north, but mostly east.
    High above, the watcher with the eagle eyes remained unmoving until the man had left the clearing and disappeared into the scattered trees growing along the path. Only then did the man in the hooded robe begin to follow, descending carefully from tree to tree until he too reached the simple path. As he moved, keeping a good distance between himself and the other man, his footfalls in the dusty pathway made no sound, which was not unusual for one wearing such soft leather boots, but had one observed more closely, and of course there was no one to do so, but if there was, they would have seen that as he walked, he left no footprints to mark his passing.
    It was almost dark when the wounded man reached the edge of the darkest dingiest hamlet he had ever chanced to encounter. Not by choice would anyone visit such a place and he sensed this