There was really no difference between on duty or off. I rode constantly, day or night. Some nights I was on horseback patrolling, others on foot. I slept when I was not patrolling or eating. The shifts equaled about four on eight off. The caravan paused at first starlight and started again at moonset. This was nearly eighteen hours of travel out of twenty-six. In those other eight hours, we slept, cooked, fed the stock and ourselves.
We lost two animals, one from a broken leg when it fell in a gopher hole, another when the glivet took a chunk out of its teammate’s neck and it bled to death in gory seconds. We roasted and ate meat that night, it tasted sweet like veal and did not bother my belly.
No one talked to or asked questions about me. I drifted through camp like a ghost and eavesdropped on conversations ranging from love lives to the goings on in the palace. The main thrust of the trip was to re-open trade routes from this shadow to Amber and to re-establish relations with King Random. The wagons were carrying the finest fabrics, clothing and jewels as well as seedlings and fresh fruits for the Armistice Day, the second year celebration of the end of Eric’s war. I was curious how they could bring perishable items on such a lengthy trip without them rotting and when asked, was told the cargo had a preservation spell put on them.
Tatterselle gave me a sample. I took the ugly, fuzzy globe of purple fruit and looked at it. “No, no,” he laughed. “Cut and peel it. Eat the insides.”
I took out my leaf dagger, missed the widening of his eyes as I did as he suggested. Cut a slice and placed the chunk in my mouth. Indescribable. Sweet. Tart, a burst of flavor that overwhelmed me and intoxicated my taste buds. Tasted better than the incredible delight of chocolate that Master had once rewarded me with. I sucked the last drop of juice off my fingers.
“You should see your eyes,” he laughed. “Big as saucers.” He paused. “Who gave you that blade, Corbel?”
“I earned it.”
“I’m sure you did.” His hand rested on his own belt sword.
“You would not live to pull it free, Master Tatterselle,” I said evenly.
“I know it. It is the blade of the master assassin of the Lord of the Gray Realm.”
The Master had been called such before. If he knew the Master by that title, he was privy to his inner circle. “Are you not happy that your caravan is guarded by so skilled a man?”
He swallowed. “It is not for me to question the Lord of the Gray Realm. Besides, half of the goods on this train are his, or commissioned by him.”
“Then, half of this train will be sure to arrive at its destination,” I stated.
“Are you the one he calls his Blackbird?”
“Curiosity brought me these, Master Tatterselle.” I raised my shirt and vest to expose my chest and belly. He stared at the raised scars of whips and chains. Swallowed, suddenly dry-mouthed with horror.
“You took that and survived?” he was aghast.
“That, and more. I took forty-five kisses of death,” I shivered, remembering and added, truthfully, “not all at once. The Master doled them out five at a time. I was a slow learner.”
His eyes held a sad respect. “Whatever I can do to please him, say so.”
“Then say nothing lest I take that ability away from you. It is my mission to see that this caravan arrives safe in Amber, not necessarily that you arrive with it.’
“I obey the Lord of the Gray Realm, Corbel. I will not speak of this or you.”
“Good. Treat me as you would any of the other guards.” I looked around his neat little trailer on wheels, it was a cozy home he could bring with him and even had a cooking stove inside. “I saw one in a book once and had the master carpenters build it for me,” he said proudly. “Where do you live?”
Bleakly, I answered him as I stepped out the door and on the three steps, “at the foot of the Master’s bed and in the corner of his room, wherever he tells me to lay my head.”
“You’re no more than a slave,” he whispered. I saw pity in his face and the rage blossomed in my belly. I growled, flew down the steps and ran for the nearest section of open grassland that was empty of anyone or thing.
I ran through the waist high grasses towards the distant mountains jumping the narrow streams and pounding the earth as if I weighed as much as a monocerous. I ran until I was gasping for breath, up and down small rises and gullies that could not be seen until you were on them. I ran until my thighs burned from fatigue and the weight of the grasses pulling at me slowed my headlong sprint.
I stopped, bent over and held my sides where cramps pulled me into a ‘C’ shape. Heaved for air that burned as I drew it into my lungs. Sweat chilled on me, seed heads and chaff stuck to my wet exposed flesh and itched. I slapped at the swarm of tiny bugs that hovered over my head, invaded my ears and bit at the back of my neck.
All around me, I saw the endless field of golden grass, heads swaying in the gentle breeze. Behind me, I could see the path my flying feet had made through the stalks. At least I could find my way back. There was nothing out here, nothing as far as the eye could see. No way for anything to sneak up on the caravan even though it was the prize of a lifetime.
I screamed. A roar from deep in my gut and somehow, found myself on my knees in the dirt with my face buried in the grass. I pulled up handfuls of roots and sliced my fingers as I tore the razor sharp stems of grass up from the soil. My blood mingled with the dirt and the emotions that I had bottled up for two years broke and threatened to destroy me.
They came out of the grass, skulking shadows, were-beasts sent by the Master, circled me, sniffed me with long, vulpine noses and stroked my feet with paws shaped like hands. I knew their kind, they came from a dark shadow near Thrid and were despicable beasts. Nearly indestructible, ferocious, stealthy and dark. They loved the shadows and must have been miserable in this bright sun. They too, knew my scent or would have tried to kill me. In a fight between a pack of them and me, I’m not sure which of us would survive the encounter. I wondered why the Master had sent his demon hounds on the trail of the caravan, I’d have thought it was his desire for the goods to reach Amber in one piece. Unless, he sent them to make sure I made it to Amber and they were here to ensure I did my job.
I turned round and followed my trail back. In only a few yards, I lost sight of every one of the hounds as they scattered into the sea of grass.
They had not wasted any time after my hurried departure, Tissarette had not even sent a scout after me. The entire camp was harnessed and ready to go on, had managed to get the front leaders going and were already a mile ahead of where I’d left. Of the hounds, there was no sign and I said nothing of them.
I watched for the remainder of the journey yet never caught one glimpse of the hell hounds. I even patrolled at night in my cloak and on foot but they had noses where they could scent me and I had to rely on my own five senses.
I knew the moment we entered Amber’s land. I felt it as a tingle that started at my toes and fingertips which exploded in my guts. I drew in a shocked gasp and my unit members questioned me. I wasn’t sure if it was pain or pleasure, all I knew was that it made me thrum. Singe-i danced under me as if she, too could feel the energy or magic of the place.