Well, well, son, the crime lord smacked his lips, Ive got some news about your new adventures today. Would you kindly remind me what I told you to do?
You wanted me to collect the tax from Goldygate, mumbled young Crogan.
Yeees. And you did what?
Dad, I
Shut up! old Crogan roared. The Three will punish you! Do you know how they punish those who disobey their parents?
But I the son tried to defend himself again.
They will throw you into a fire pit, he smashed his fist on the armrest, The hottest fire pit, high in a
That was the moment when Crogans pet hyena heard a familiar word which made her jump with joy, eyes burning with hunger, teeth snapping. She thought it was that time again! Time to tear somebody apart! Fun time!
Dad Young Crogan turned marble-white. Dad, please, no hyenas
The crime lord stopped dead mid sermon. It took him a whole minute to realize what had just happened. All this time his son was staring at him with wide eyes, absolutely terrified, while his hyena was dancing about, yelping, snapping, waiting anxiously for the command to kill.
You little fool! Old Crogan roared again, this time with laughter soon followed by his sons relieved sniggering. Okay, youve learned your lesson, said old Crogan, almost good-naturedly now, What was that you wanted to tell me?
Well, about why I led the guys into the forest Young Crogan scratched his head thoughtfully. I saw two strangers on the old road. Some brown man and his chick. No guns. We wanted to take them to you, but they went into the Haunted Woods before we could catch them. I can try catching them again once theyve re-entered our territory.
Do this. I want those two alive and unmaimed, understood? Crogan was grim and serious again. Id love to hear some news from our guests and possibly a tale about how they passed through the Haunted Woods unharmed. Go! He paused. No, wait! Im coming with you. I dont want you to screw up again.
Old Crogan gave his orders at once. Soon, the party of twenty riders gathered in his yard. There were no chargas at his base for they didnt get along with his favourite hyenas, so Crogans thugs rode taranders instead: huge, hulky beasts, horned and cloven-footed. Taranders didnt care about the hyenas yelping and snapping before them, at all.
The weather was properly murky and foggy that morning, perfect for the manhunt. The fog filled all the lowlands like spilled milk. You could hide an army in that fog if you wanted. Old Crogan led the hunting team. He rode a white tarander harnessed in gold and silver as a glorious leader should. Its been a long time since he went for a manhunt himself, so he felt great, the ache in his old wounds all forgotten. Once in a while, he threw a glance at his son, noticing how well the lad rode, how tall he became, how clever and shrewd his eyes were. Rebellious though he was, the young Crogan was a good son, worthy of his sire. Too bad he was so afraid of hyenas, but it couldnt be helped: a rabid hyena tried to eat him when he was a toddler, that had apparently scarred him for life. Of course, Crogan gutted that hyena himself so all his other pets would see what awaited them if they tried to hurt his heir, but the fear remained, deep buried in the lads heart. Back in the house, when Crogan chastised his son for disobedience it was not the promise of burning in the hellish fire pit that made the young Crogan turn pale, it was the hyena. His father could only hope his boy would outgrow that fear one day.
Thats where Crogans thugs mark the edge of the Haunted Woods, Vlada was explaining the thin white dotted line on the map. Theyre afraid of these hills, so they dont go there. Today were leaving the safe territory, Kan.
This is bad, right? He sighed.
Well be fine, Vlada smiled, ruffling his hair gently. Weve already passed most of the Burnt Region through the safe land. Now we just have to cross the river and be off. Theres a bridge, but it is guarded, so we wont go there. We will ford the river in its widest place where it is shallow.
Kangassk couldnt bring himself to read after they made their last camp on the safe land. He lay in the grass and watched the sky go dark. Lots of thoughts buzzed in his head: about Aren-castell, so distant now it could have been a dream, about the journey he got himself into, and about the purpose of everything. He envied Vlada. The girl had a clear goal ahead of her. He didnt. He just tagged along, trying to be helpful. Not that she needed his help much
The morning was foggy and damp. The travellers clothes and chargas fur were wet with morning dew. The beasts didnt like being wet at all. They stopped now and again to shake the silver droplets off. Their riders didnt have that luxury.
It was hard to tell in the fog whether they had already crossed the thin border between the Haunted Woods and old Crogans territory. Kangassk just assumed they were no longer safe, so he kept his bow ready. Fog made him feel uneasy, especially after the stories about sylphs, the fog dwellers, Vlada told him yesterday. They were nasty critters, those sylphs! Kan would rather meet bandits again. At least bandits were human and he knew how to deal with them.
Sasler left the hills he had been watching the strangers from. Up there he could move at a walking pace and still see them from the top thanks to the scope. Now, after they had turned to the river, away from the hills, he had to follow them closely, so he needed a ride.
A wild charga answered his call. The beast had been very fond of the old hunter since the day he saved her from the snare. Back then old Crogans thugs were still bold enough to enter Saslers territory from time to time and even put their snares there. Sasler hated snares with passion. He never used them himself. He also never hunted the hunters, other predators, that is. He rescued the little charga that day and nursed her back to health. Since then, whenever he needed a ride, she had been willing to help.
Holding onto the thick fur of the unharnessed beast Sasler rode down the hill, right into the milky fog. He very well understood how hard it would be to find the kids there and keep up with them, yet he had to try.
Old Crogan planned the ambush very carefully to provide the best possible example for his heir.
The river, Fervida, was fast yet shallow there, on the wide rocky bed, barely knee-deep. The strangers took their boots off before fording the river. They shivered as they entered the icy cold water leading their chargas behind. The poor beasts hated every step of the way by the looks of them.
Here they went, all four, two people and two animals, right into the trap. Crogan waited until they had reached the middle of the river before passing the signalling horn to his son. Blowing it proved to be hard for the young lungs, but the lad did his best. He managed to produce a weak, but distinguishable sound. The team, following the order, let the hyenas loose.
The fastest of the hyenas died first, it got an arrow between the eyes. Kan was quick. The second-best runner got an arrow to the side and yelped, spinning in circles and biting at the arrow shaft in a desperate attempt to get rid of it. Kan had drawn the third arrow, ready to bring another snappy monster down, but lowered his bow as he saw the bandits emerging from the fog at both sides of the river. Every single one of them had a gun.
The trap had closed. Here they stood in the middle of the river, with hyenas raging on both shores, anxiously awaiting a command to tear them apart, and the silent bandits standing behind the beasts, guns ready. The chargas hissed, baring their teeth, bristling their fur. Kangassk, not knowing what else to do, tried to shield Vlada with his body.