Black Kerthon's Doom by Jim Greenfield Page B

the rebel camp. You could tell me the exact locations of the sentry posts, am I right?"
    "No, Gareth moves them around. Several places. I haven't been out there in months."
    "Do you remember where they are?"
    "Yes. No, I won't tell you."
    There was a sudden scream from Parean as Kaell bent over him that made Janst cringe in his hiding place outside the cell. Parean sobbed and Janst could hear the soft words as they trickled out of the poor man's mouth.
    Suddenly, the door to the cell opened and Kaell stepped out and nearly ran into Janst. Their eyes met. Neither man spoke. Janst tried to look past Kaell into the cell.
    "What are you doing here?" asked Kaell. His eyes darted around the room making sure they were alone.
    "Spying for the High King."
    "Really? What luck, eh?"
    "I'm also supposed to create a rift between you and Prosty."
    Kaell snorted. "Tell the High King you have accomplished your task. There is a rift between us."
    "How nice. A job finished on its first day. May I buy you a drink?"
    "You are too happy with your work," said Kaell, sourly. "I distrust a man who enjoys doing his work more than skipping it."
    "It's all in the mind."
    "Precisely. Well, let's get that drink. I must be abed soon. I have a busy day tomorrow. The High King shall send soldiers after the rebels."
    "Splendid," said Janst. "Perhaps then I could finish that job you hired me for."
    "That is what I hoped." He wiped blood on the wall as they passed.

Chapter 6
    Macelan and Serada had begun to feel comfortable in the rebel camp. There was no longer someone watching them at all times and they had been assigned daily tasks, which kept them busy. Serada had resigned himself to his position. Macelan had not but his interest in Daura drove any thoughts of escape far from his mind. They completed their work willingly and well, slowly earning the trust of their fellows. The daily closeness of the rebels and the reality of death brought a dimension to friendships that neither man thought possible. The food tasted better, the air smelled sweeter and the smiles and greetings of the other rebels were more sincere and warming. It was a good time to be alive. The camp was busy but very quiet despite the smiling faces. At first Serada wondered why they were so content, far from home, outlaws sentenced to death, and then he was so busy he had no time for such contemplation. There was a familiarity of the morning rituals at the camp and the young men fell in step with the rebels, blending their motions into the dance of the camp. The freshness of the forest, the voices of the birds almost made up for the loss of the sea songs of the surf.
    Macelan was washing his face in the bucket outside his tent when Brice approached.
    "Hurry. We must leave at once."
    "Leave? Where to? I wanted to sit under a tree and sleep."
    Brice shook his head, sighing.
    "Scout mission. No napping allowed. Come, time is wasting." Brice grabbed his shoulder, jerking Macelan to his feet. Macelan stumbled, holding the sleeve of Brice shirt for support. He sat down to tighten the straps of his boots.
    "How come we have to leave immediately?" asked Macelan.
    "Gareth's orders." There could be no argument. "Come on."
    "What if.."
    Brice grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him to his feet.
    "Okay, okay." Macelan picked up his sword, bow and quiver and followed Brice to the edge of camp. Daura was waiting for them.
    "Coming, my dear?" asked Macelan. He held his hand out to her and after a moment's thought, she laid hers in his.
    "Yes," said Daura. Brice looked at them both but said nothing.
    They headed east for several miles before they turned south. They kept to the trees and it made their going slow but it shielded them from unfriendly eyes. The grass and branches were still damp from the night rainfall. Brice led them and walked briskly were he could. He didn't speak. He remembered Cara and listened while Daura and Macelan softly conversed and deepened their friendship. Brice's ache