Chapter 3

The journey down the cliff face took most of the afternoon, with no rope long enough to reach the bottom they had to make their way carefully down the rocky face. Robin had lashed them all together with the rope length available to them; a silken cord that the Shaman had woven. From there Robin would lead the way down searching out footholds for the Shaman, although she probably did not need the help; she was in her thirty-first year and as hale and hearty as ever. She followed closely above her protector and at times he had to tell her to let him get ahead of her a little in case they needed to back track, such was her ability to keep up. One would think that descending such a vertical surface would have been difficult for the dog-like Gargoyle but such was not the case. Bronx made it abundantly clear that he was as good a climber as either of them mainly due to the fact that he simply made his own footholds. He rammed his feet into the rock and simply walked down, Robin told him to move a little off to the side so he did not shower them with rocks and pebbles. The Shaman then suggested that Bronx lead the way so they could literally follow in his footsteps, Robin reluctantly agreed.

Near to the bottom the land came up to meet the cliff allowing them to walk down the rest of the way with relative ease. Robin scouted out a shelter for them before the sun had fully set, a cave that may have been the home of a full-grown bombur; a badger-like creature similar in size to a cave bear. Robin ascertained that the cave had been abandoned the previous season. The cave opening was wide but low and went in about twenty feet at a slight angle, which helped to keep the wind out. As the Shaman made camp Robin and Bronx went out to collect wood for a fire.

It had not rained for a week in this area so dry tinder was plentiful, Robin had also located a small stream that ran from the cliffs, he'd use their flask water for cooking tonight and refill them on the morrow. Both moons were out on this night; Cinder the White Moon and Ash the elusive Black Moon. The Shaman had taught Robin much about the new world he now inhabited, but much was still alien to him. The White Moon was much like the one he remembered from his own world, bright and luminous going through the different phases each month. The Black Moon, it was said only to be seen in times of strife and trouble, it was now seen at least once a month where before the time of the Sorcerer it appeared every hundred years or so. The Shaman had been recording the appearances of Ash for many years now. The last recorded time was when Robin's world had been engulfed in darkness. Robin wondered which world was now being consumed.

When Robin and Bronx arrived back in camp carrying their load of dried sticks and tinder (Bronx carrying his in his maw) the Shaman was busily scribbling in her parchment book. Soon a fire was made and they were eating more dried rations and a vegetable stew. When they had finished Robin lit his pipe and went about sharpening his sword with a whetstone. Bronx lay by the fire and licked at a cut he received during the battle with the Gargoyle. The Shaman was sitting at the mouth of the cave gazing at the stars and recording something in her book, she had with her a lit taper to see by. The night was uneventful but in the morning the Shaman woke up early and was ready to go by the time Robin opened his eyes. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stretched, looking around he saw his possessions were packed away, four bloated waterskins hung around Bronx's neck and the fire pit was dashed. A wooden bowl filled with stream water sat close to him and a serving of flat bread and cheese lay wrapped in a leaf beside that. The Shaman was busily repairing a hole in Robin's boot; she smiled as he sat up.

"Good morning, I took the liberty to break camp while you slept, we need to be off quickly."

The fox was alert as he splashed the cold yet bracing water upon his furry face. "Why? Is something amiss?"

"Not yet, but soon. Ash is appearing more frequently, I take that as a sign of the Sorcerer's increase in power. If that is the cause then we must double our efforts in reaching Pointe Nexus."

"If such was the urgency my lady, then why did you not awaken me earlier?"

"Because I believe you will need your strength this day."

Robin looked around warily, testing his senses. She noticed his look of concern.

"Perhaps not today, but soon. We will be skirting close to one of the Sorcerers allies in a day or two. The Horned King does not take kindly to the living."

The three set off before the morning dew had dried up, they made good time through The Wild, which the people named this part of the land or perhaps it was always called such. Robin commented on the strange looking wildlife here, the Shaman told him that animals from many different worlds live and thrive here, it seemed as if this world chose the right mixture so one would not dominate the other, even if they were alien to each other. When questioned about this world's name she had shrugged and told him it was simply called The World, although the continent they lived on was named Absentia; The Land of Lost Dreams.

The weather became clement as morning turned to afternoon; they came across an abandoned cabin, possibly belonging to a woodcutter. They took their rest here then followed a footpath that led more or less the way they wanted. After about an hour more of walking brought them to a roadway, Robin motioned his companions to halt while he investigated the area. It was little used by the look of it; more of wagon trails then an actual road for the grass was near to Robin's waist. He inspected the blades closely but could detect no sign of recent passage; he reported this to the Shaman.

"I believe we would be safe for the time being, the trees provide a canopy over the trail that will keep us covered from the Sorcerer's winged spies and we will increase our speed by a significant amount."

"I agree," she said. "Then let us continue at least until the trail veers off our course." So the three now took an easier path and continued on until nightfall. They then went into the woods a good two hundred yards before making camp.

The morning came and again they set off early, it was about one hour before noon when they came across the carriage. It was a covered wagon meant for passengers, the harnesses that held the horses lay empty. Bronx emitted a low growl when he spotted it prompting Robin to unsheathe his sword. A few skeletal remains lay strewn about the covered transport, tattered fabric loosely hung off the bones. Rotted flesh the colour of moss still clung in strips to some of them. Robin put a hand to his nose to try and block out some of the smell. Bronx refused to go closer then ten feet, Robin turned to glare at him. "If I can take it, you certainly can." Bronx glared back and moved closer. There were five bodies in all, male except for the one woman in the carriage; which was not in the same state of decay as the others.

"Strange." Said Robin as he looked over the bodies.

"What is?" The Shaman asked from his side.

"Well, look at that one, and that one over there," he said pointing at two corpses. "See how they are clothed? Both wear simple clothing with no distinguishing marks; I'd mark them as bandits commoners or perhaps brigands."

She took up his thought. "While the other three were guards for the lady in the coach, yes I see. Those three there," she pointed at the remaining bodies, "all wear a surcoat, or the remains of one."

"Yes, but who won in this attack? The bandits or the guards?" Robin scratched his chin. "Surely they couldn't have killed each other."

"Perhaps one lived but did not bury his dead." The Shaman suggested. Bronx was now sniffing at the carriage as the two talked.

"Perhaps…"

"But you don't believe so."

"No. And what is more puzzling is the state of decay on the woman."

"She may have been mortally wounded and died later, but the decay is so vastly different." She moved to the carriage now and opened the door wider, the corpse was blue and the skin pulled tight against the bone, long brown hair was tied back in a tail and the dress it wore was of a deep green.. "No animals have scavenged from it, not even birds."

"They were heading the way we came," Robin looked back. "The tracks here are fresher, much fresher." Robin stated as he inspected the ground behind the carriage. Bronx, who had walked up behind the Shaman again began to growl. The medicine woman turned back to see what was the matter, he now was barking viciously at the carriage. The Shaman then felt a sudden coldness creep over her, she snapped her head back to the corpse and saw black eyes staring back.