In Dreams: Red

Ambush

Navigating by the stars is not too terribly difficult, but I was very glad the task did not fall to me, as it left my mind free to wander. We were riding swiftly, attempting to cover as much ground as possible this night. Although my father kept a reasonable amount of peace in the many villages he had conquered, there were still those that took advantage of others. My father frequently dispatched small groups of his men to keep that peace: breaking up bands of robbers, hunting down criminals, and the like, but as he liked to say, wherever you took down one, three more appeared. Once captured, most of these miscreants ended up working to help rebuild farms and villages after disaster struck, whether it was natural, man or Gods-made. They could spend their entire life sentenced to help others or only months, depending on their behavior and crimes. Either way, it kept the majority of my father's men from assisting in simple rebuilding efforts and ready for battle or peace-keeping.

The particular problem “rich” parties, such as ours, is that they tend to attract attention. And let's face it, at night and without prior knowledge of the appearance of myself and my father's men, we looked like tasty pickings. My father was currently having trouble with a particular village between the one we had just visited and our own fortified home. There was a group of men that suddenly got it into their heads that people coming into our village were likely to be bringing gifts, taxes or money for purchases. Thus they had started attacking travelers headed in our direction. Every time my father sent out soldiers to capture these villains, they always had a hard time gathering information from the other villagers. Unless they could catch some of them “with the goods” it was hard to know exactly who was involved. He had told me on several occasions he just considered punishing the whole village and being done with it, but he was holding out that someone would eventually break down and give the thieves up.

Reginald had set up a quick pace, hurrying Corwin along, trying to get us through the unsafe area unscathed. My mind is busily wandering as the first few drops of rain smack me directly in the face, one to the eye, the next to the forehead. Shocked, I squint to see much of the sky obliterated by cloud cover, the stars slowly being dragged behind a dark mass that looked simply dangerous. Taking a chance, I rode forward to Reginald's side, noting that Silas and Weylin automatically spaced themselves to cover my position.

“Are we going to be able to ride through this?” I ask him at a yell, gesturing at the sky. Where the stars and moon had cast a bright enough light to see by before, I notice suddenly things are much darker. Reginald was fast fading into a dark blob beside me.

“I'm calling a camp-I wanted to get further than this tonight, but I can hardly see you now. And we can't afford to lose our way.” Reg shouts back.

“Camp-let's stop here for the night!” Corwin yells out at the rest of the group-apparently he had been listening as well. I let Lupus fall back to cover our position and help guard the prisoner while a tent is set up to protect us all from the weather. The prisoner is relieved of his horse, and surrounded by four men. I remove the corpse from the horse it had been tied to, and cover it with the horse's blanket. I do not want it in the tent with us, but I'm afraid of destroying any more evidence by not protecting it. The horses are handled by one of the men whose position I take around the prisoner. We work as a well-oiled team, even though I can no longer tell who is who at this point. Suddenly the clouds let go of their burden, soaking everyone almost immediately. I pull the hood of my red cloak up over my head, aware that it will do me little good. There are various shouts and exclamations from the men around me and a sudden bark of laughter that I see is coming from the prisoner, his head thrown back to the sky.

Someone squishes their way towards our little group and I hear “The tent is up, the tent is up!” I see its gloomy shape dimly a short distance away. We lead the prisoner towards the tent and huddle underneath it while the rain pours down around us. Luckily there is now wind, but I notice the material of the tent is soaked and will most likely spring a leak.

“The corpse, did anyone retrieve the body?” I ask suddenly. No one speaks up, so I start maneuvering my way towards the opening when a strong hand grips my arm.

“Leave it, my Lady. By now it's too late anyway, and you shall have a hard time locating it in this dark and rain.” I look down at the hand that is quickly removed from my arm, or should I say the bound hands, and gaze up into the eyes of the prisoner. The other men have jostled him backwards, but I can still clearly see no malice or ill intent in his face before he is obliterated from my view by the darkness. It bothers me how close he had gotten, and how easily he had done it. I had heard nor sensed nothing. My arm tingles where his fingers had gripped it.

“Unfortunately, he's right my Lady.” Reginald says simply. Lightning briefly lights up the tent, flashing in the eyes of the prisoner in the back like the eye-shine of an animal, and then all is still and dark again.

These countryside storms had a habit of disappearing as suddenly as they appeared. It could be minutes, hours or on and off down pours for days. It certainly felt like days as we stood under the tent, which, as expected, did indeed spring a few leaks. Eventually the men and I began settling in for a longer stay, giving up the hope of a quick end to the rain. Saddles and bags became seats, guards sat facing the prisoner, who seemed infuriatingly calm and patient, while the rest of our nerves frayed. I catch my thoughts taking on that dream-like quality right before sleep and visibly shake myself awake. I am watching the other dark shapes around me, my back almost up against a side of the tent, trying vainly not to touch it, to prevent water from soaking through to me. My head keeps slipping as I drowse, and I keep shaking myself awake. Abruptly, the tent lets go a large stream of water on my head and I realize I had been sleeping and the sky is now lighter and I can see the shapes around me more clearly.

“Augh!” I complain as I shift to try to escape the new leak. The rain, which has momentarily slowed, renews itself and dumps rain harder and faster on our already soggy tent. I stand up and stretch, moving once again to the opening. Crossing my arms, I glare up at the dark sky.

“Would you give it up already?” I voice my complaint at it. In response, there is a bright flash of lightning and a boom of thunder, which makes me scowl harder. There is a trickle of laughter from behind me.

“Not even my Lady the Right Hand of our Lord can make the Gods stop their rain!” Corwin teases. “Even though she may glare at them mightily!” More light laughter. I turn to scowl at Corwin, but can't really make out which one he is yet in the shadows of the tent. Luckily it is getting steadily lighter outside, even though the clouds and the tent hold their gloom. I hold my hands out in the rain and catch as much rainwater as my two cupped palms can hold and splash it on my face to help refresh and wake me.

“Woah! My Lady, I beg your apologies, you need not throw water at me!” Corwin exclaims-which gives me his precise position in the tent. I capture more water in my hands and toss it inside in his direction. There are calls of “Woah!”, “What?” and “Corwin!” Among scattered laughter. Satisfied with my revenge, I turn back toward the sky.

“I believe it may clear up shortly.” Silas says quietly from my left. “You see that lighter patch of clouds out to your right? They appear to be moving this direction, and there might be a break in the cloud cover close behind them.

“Well I for one, will be glad to be out of this small, wet tent, and be able to stretch and move about properly.” Ogden says from further in. I see an outline stand and stretch and assume it is him.

“You think you have it poorly? You should have been over here all night! Corwin taking up all of the space with his great long legs!” I believe it is Tyrus who says this to more laughter. There's a thud and he yelps suddenly.

“How's that for my great long legs?” Corwin teases to the sound of more scuffling. I shake my head and look back out at the sky, surprised to see how much brighter it suddenly appears. The rain has slowed again to a few scattered drops, and just as quickly as it started, the drops are slowing to a finish.

“What do you think? Do we risk it and try to ride on or give the rain a chance to decide what it will do?” I mumble in Silas' direction.

“Give it just a little longer and I do believe it will end.” Silas tells me. I finally can make out the details of his face in the light of the tent opening. The drops are slowing to individual spits and spats, drips and drops as the men in the tent slowly begin to stir, standing, stretching and joking with each other. I distinctly hear Corwin tease Reginald about having to be stuck in such close quarters with a man who not only has a rotten personality, but a rotten odor as well. Even Reginald is in high enough spirits to retort that he was glad Corwin knew how badly he himself offended others, which received many comments and more jokes and laughter from the other men, most in praise of Reginald's quick thinking. I am finally able to see inside the tent rather well, and observe that the rain has completely stopped. I check the sky again and see that, although it is not clear, the clouds are lighter in color, and don't hold the previous stormy gloom. I smile at Silas, who winks in return. Berton volunteers himself to retrieve the horses whenever our company is ready. Before we leave, the men and I take it in turns to relieve ourselves and freshen up. I myself can't wait to dig for some dry clothes. Lastly, the prisoner is led off by a group of four. I watch them disappear as I comb out and braid my hair, readying myself for a long ride. While they are gone, Berton retrieves the horses. When he brings Lupus to me, he has already tied the corpse to the second horse.

“I'm afraid he is a bit soggy and wet, but I wrapped him in new coverings to spare the horse any sores.” Berton tells me, speaking of the corpse. I thank him and he trots off to retrieve more horses. The remaining two men have been taking down and putting away our very soggy tent. I had offered my assistance, but was shooed away by Silas, who insisted they could handle things just fine. Instead, I chose to keep watch on the horses as Berton brought them back, feeling slightly useless. The guards return with the prisoner as the last of the tent is packed away. I command Lupus to stay and hold the reins of the prisoner's horse while his guards help him mount.

“Thank you my Lady.” He tells me courteously as he passes, and then thanks his guards once he is astride his horse. The messenger had been correct, he was very polite. I look at him curiously, the urge to get him to speak with me more pressing at me. I purse my lips.

“Where's Berton gone too?” Weylin asks. “Ho Berton! Where's that i***t gone with my horse?”

“He just brought me Lupus. Well before you returned.” I inform him, still distracted by the prisoner.

“That i***t's probably fallen and hurt himself.” Weylin says huffily. “Which direction were the horses brought from?” He asks me. I point him in the right direction and Weylin stomps angrily off. I hear Corwin mumble something that sounds like “uptight ninny” in his direction as he passes, but I'm not sure if I heard it right. Judging by the chuckling that followed, it must have been something amusing. A gust of wind suddenly changes direction and blows from the way Weylin had gone directly at us. I am just handing off the reins of the prisoner's horse to Reggie, who is going to resume the duty of leading the horse when I see the prisoner stiffen out of the corner of my eye. He stares toward the direction Weylin disappeared.

“My Lady..” He says urgently, and then a harsh scream cuts him off. It sounds like Weylin. Instantly, everyone is abuzz with activity.

“What the blazes?” Ogden cries and starts in the direction of Weylin. I note all of us on foot are running in that direction, and Reginald and the other men on horseback are following, the prisoner still in Reg's charge. Ogden is ahead of Silas and me. He reaches the area the horses had been sheltered in, which is really nothing more than a small grove of tress. Ogden is heading into them when he suddenly cries out and falls to the ground. Too late, I notice the arrows and turn aside to avoid being hit, but realize I'm never going to make it out of their path. Things are moving too quickly, but Silas has seen the dangers, he has turned back to find me and warn me. He reaches out to me and throws me to the ground as arrows suddenly spring out of him. He falls in front of me, the blood has already coated him, an arrowhead protrudes through his chest, right beside his heart.