Chapter Twenty-Five #3
Andros nodded, and squinted at the sky, then down toward the valley entry.
“We should rig a stretcher,” he said. Apparently he’d agreed with Finnvid’s decision to stay and then moved on.
“And we should carry him. If we get very, very, lucky, we’ll get a good dump of snow from those clouds blowing in. ”
“We want snow?”
“We do.” Andros didn’t elaborate. “Do you have anything to write with? And on? Use a chunk of bark and some blood if you need to. Leave a letter for those following us. We’ll cut that tree down, there, and lay it across the path, then tie the note to it to be sure they see it.
Try to slow them down, or better yet, send them home.
Make it clear that you’re not a prisoner, and don’t need to be rescued. Tell them you have a plan.”
“A plan?”
“Make it sound better than what you’ve actually got, if possible.” Andros smiled wryly. “While you’re doing that, I’ll set up a stretcher. You should take Theos’s snow flats.”
“He can’t carry me,” Theos muttered. “Give me a moment, and I’ll be able to walk.”
“Let him try,” Andros replied. “We need you strong. If we carry you now, you’ll be ready to run later, if we need to.” He glanced apologetically in Finnvid’s direction before adding, “Ready to fight.”
Theos stopped arguing, the prospect of a good battle all that was required to ensure his compliance. Finnvid resolved to remember that trick for future use, and tried not to think about who Theos would be fighting if he got his way any time soon.
There was a ragged sheet of parchment with a stub of colored wax for writing in the medical kit, so Finnvid set about composing his message, glad he wasn’t writing in blood.
By the time he was finished, Andros had the tree laid down over the path and had the stretcher assembled.
Finnvid hadn’t written very many words, but he’d tried to choose the right ones, tried to compose the magic message that would make all of this go away.
He knew he hadn’t come up with anything that good, but he hoped he’d at least made the situation clear.
He strapped on the snow flats and helped shift Theos onto the stretcher with as little stress on his wound as possible. “Did that hurt?” Finnvid demanded fiercely. “Do we need to stop and re-dress it? Better you tell me now than later, when you’ve already wasted more blood.”
“It didn’t hurt.” Theos seemed meek, and Finnvid wasn’t sure if he liked it. “I think it’s fine.”
“It had better be.” Finnvid crouched to wrap his hands around the stretcher poles and braced himself to carry half of Theos’s considerable weight.
“Look,” Andros said quietly. Finnvid straightened, then turned to follow Andros’s gaze.
There were soldiers streaming into the base of the trail. From a distance, they looked like a dark river, filling the space and splashing up the hill.
“That’s too many,” Finnvid whispered. It made no sense. He stared as more and more men appeared. “That’s hundreds of men. It’s most of our army!”
“They can’t mean to attack Windthorn,” Andros said.
He sounded more thoughtful than alarmed.
“That would be suicide.” He looked over at Finnvid.
“They must be planning to catch up to us. They’d know better than anyone else how badly Theos was hurt, so they’d know we won’t be making good time.
But this many men . . . Do you think it’s because of you?
They think you were kidnapped and are trying to get you back? ”
Finnvid wished it were that simple. If it were, he could just turn around and stop the men, and Theos and Andros could continue their journey in peace.
“No. I don’t think so. They must have suspected where I was all through the early winter and they didn’t send so much as an envoy to check on me or arrange my release.
” Finnvid hadn’t been surprised by that, given the weather conditions, but the behavior then was in clear contrast to the situation now.
“I think they discovered that the letter is missing, and they’re coming after it.
They’ve decided to back the warlord, and they don’t want you to return to Windthorn with evidence you could only have gotten from them.
It would look as if they’d turned the information over to his enemies. ”
Andros watched the distant men a moment longer, then nodded decisively. “So. They’re going to follow us, regardless. So take your note down.”
Finnvid stared at him. “Why?”
“Because it can’t do any good—it won’t stop them. And without the note, if they catch up to us, you can claim you were kidnapped. I mean, you were kidnapped, right?”
Finnvid wanted to argue. He wasn’t sure why, but it seemed important that he make some sort of declaration, to the Elkati and the Torians. He wanted them to know that he’d chosen a side. Right or wrong, he’d made a choice.
Andros didn’t look interested in his internal musings. “Let’s go. Get the note, and grab an end of the stretcher. Let’s see what we can do.” He peered at the horizon, the clouds that he’d said might bring snow. Finnvid still wasn’t sure how that would help anything.
Maybe there wasn’t any help to be had. So Finnvid retrieved the note, and they hefted their burden and started walking.