Chapter 4
The second site wasn't much different than the first, the cottage had been burnt to the ground, most likely because there had been no rain.
Four fresh graves stood beyond what was left of the charred remains. Will looked around, the same as Gilan, but he could not say he knew what the taller Ranger was looking for. He found it decidedly hard to poke around in the rubble. Had he not seen how badly it affected him the last time, Will might have thought Gilan wasn't bothered by it, but now he knew better.
In what was left of the farm house he had found a partially burned wooden sword. A toy belonging to a boy no doubt, and now as he was standing, surveying the scene in front of him he was carefully removing the charred bits.
As Will watched, Gilan whittled away at the ruined toy, to what end he did not know, but he decided it was best to leave him to it. He would imagine that he had a reason for what he was doing.
Looking up, Gilan wrinkled his nose in disgust, and after a second Will noticed it to. Harcourt had lit his pipe again, something he seemed to do when bored. Though as the smell of pipe smoke mingled with the tar and charcoal stench of the burnt down homestead, Will wondered if he would ever not associate the smell with that destruction again.
"Got anything from it?" Harcourt wanted to know.
"I think so," Gilan nodded. "I think I got a better idea of it now, but there are still some things that are puzzling me."
"What?" Will prodded.
"I'd rather not go into it just yet," Gilan gave him an apologetic look. "I'm not quite sure yet, and I don't want to say anything before I know what I'm thinking."
"Fair enough," Will shrugged. "Ready to move on then?"
"Yes, I think so," Gilan agreed.
Relieved, Will walked over to their horses. While they studied the farm, he had loosened their saddle girths so they could be more comfortable. Now he cinched them tighter again. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Gilan walk over to the graves. The toy sword, now gleaming with clean wood and free from any signs of fire he laid gently across one of the graves by the wooden marker.
Not saying anything about it, Will still nodded in silent approval. Holding Blaze's reins until Gilan came to collect them.
"Thanks," the taller Ranger took them and easily swung himself into the saddle.
Mounting his own pony with a grunt, Harcourt wheeled the white horse over to them. "Do you want to go to another one, or can we stop by the Crossing's Inn on the way back? I have to say I really could do with a good meal and a real bed."
"I suppose we might," Gilan glanced to Will who shrugged. He felt no deep desire to do so, they had eaten well enough, and slept comfortable enough the way he saw it. On the other hand, he had never seen any reason to avoid sleeping in a real bed either. Not to mention that he was fine with letting someone else do the cooking at times as well.
"Alright, we'll do that then," Gilan nodded to Harcourt.
Will nudged Tug to fall in beside his friend as Harcourt took the lead. He did not push for conversation as he knew Gilan was turning the problem over and over in his mind. Yet it felt good to share a little closeness after what they had seen. After a few minutes, though he said nothing, Gilan turned his head to give him a warm smile.
Seeing it, Will felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his chest though he had not been aware of it. There just was something that seemed fundamentally wrong if Gilan wasn't smiling. He always seemed so cheerful that it felt wrong if he wasn't.
Once they reached the inn, Will figured it was fairly simple to tell how it had got its name. The Crossings Inn was situated in a spot where five roads met by a lake. Quite a nice view, though that was no guarantee that the inn would be as nice. Harcourt seemed to have cheered up as soon as the structure came into view though, so Will hoped it was because he had stayed there before. Some rain clouds had formed in the sky as they rode, and he had to admit he would rather stay dry if it was possible.
Gilan didn't seem very enthusiastic about it, but a long look at the sky and the clouds rolling across it seemed to settle his mind. "We'll start with a meal I suppose," he decided. "I don't like the look of those clouds, but I don't really want to break for the day this early either."
"If that is bad as it looks, we won't make any time at all once it hits, and we're not going anywhere particular, are we?" Will frowned.
"We might be," Gilan turned his face upwards. "It might not be all of that bad."
"Or it could be worse," Will argued. "You might be a fair bit closer to them than I am, but I can tell a rain cloud when I see it, and that is a lot of them, and they're still bringing friends."
The friendly banter drew a smile out of Gilan. "Harcourt, if we were to go to the last one before these two, which direction would that be, and about how long ago?"
"About North West, two days," Harcourt frowned. "Do we need to go there?"
"No, but I'm getting the feeling that the next one won't be too far away now, they seem to move fairly quickly, but lying low between them, and they're going in the same direction."
"No, they're not," Harcourt shook his head. "They have been all over the place."
"It looks that way yes," Gilan shrugged. "But I don't think they are."
"Can you think while we get something to eat?" Will pleaded. "I really am starved."
"Alright," Gilan gave in. "Go in and make sure we get food, good food Will, and I'll settle the horses in the stable."
Nodding, Will headed inside with Harcourt. He knew from Halt that Gilan used to have difficulties waiting. He would do well enough on sentry duty, but waiting for two days for something to happen used to be torture according to Halt. He said he couldn't be still for a second, but kept pacing back and forth, trying to get his hands on just about anything that would allow him to do something. Beating carpets, scrubbing floors, anything as long as he was moving and doing something. It would seem, he was still doing that at times, even if this was the first Will had really noticed it.
When he joined them at the table Will had decided that while the food might not be up to the standard they were used to, it wouldn't kill them. Oats with bits of mutton and vegetables, a lot heavier on the grain, some of the vegetables and the occasional piece of mutton to be found in it. Just enough of it in fact that one could not take the inn keeper to task about it. The coffee was weak, but they got a full pot so Will figured quantity would have to make up for quality. At least the bread was freshly made and quite good, with a crook of fresh butter for it and even some honey.
He was however surprised when Gilan pulled a cheap notebook from inside his jerkin. He had never seen him with anything like it before. It was rather crudely made, sheets of paper sown to a piece of hard leather, a slightly softer leather cover on top to protect them, and a very odd looking quill.
"What is that?" he frowned, looking at it. It had a polished wooden handle, but the nib was round and pointy, not at all like a feather quill.
"Silver stylus," Gilan shrugged. "It's not the best for important things, but it will let you write, and draw, without ink. Works well enough anyway, at least for things like this. Folding back the top cover he flipped through the sheets to a free page, quickly drawing up a sketch of the fief while he ate. "If I remember correctly, these are the spots where the attacks has been reported," he placed several x's on the sketch. "They look random enough, going up and down, but if you think about the order, they do slowly, move in this direction," he indicated the heading on the paper. "It's very subtle, but I'm betting they're going that direction, and that means, we have an idea of the general area they'll hit next." He studied his sketch intently, so much so that he did not even raise an eyebrow when Will emptied the coffee pot in his own mug.
Sighing, the younger Ranger poured half to the golden liquid into his friend's mug, it was no fun stealing it when Gilan wasn't paying attention.
"Thanks."
Or, maybe he was, Will shrugged as he took a deep swallow. It did not matter anyway.
"I think it will be about here," Gilan drew a circle on the paper.
"Why there?" Harcourt frowned.
"Anything in particular that makes you think so?" Will could not see it, but he knew Gilan was good at this part. He wondered sometimes if Halt didn't wish he had Gilan with him on the task force rather than Will, because Gilan noted so many small details and seemed to be able to make sense of them even when they meant nothing to Will.
"More of a feeling," Gilan admitted now, giving them a rueful smile.
"Sounds like maybe we should head there then," when Gilan said it was just a feeling, Will was more or less willing to take it for a fact. "You going to finish that?" he nodded to Gilan's plate which still had half his portion on it.
"Go ahead," taking a slice of bread Gilan spread a thick mass of butter and honey on it as he pushed the plate over towards Will. Folding the bread over in his left hand so that he could eat it without getting the sticky mess on his fingers. He was studying the paper intently as he did so, as if the sketch would hold some deep hidden answer, to be revealed if he only stared at it long enough.
Scraping the plate clean with a last piece of bread Will glanced towards the window and the semi-darkness outside. He was about to voice a question, if they should stay or move on.
Before he could speak, a flash lit up the room through the window, followed by a large boom.
The inn keeper rushed to throw the shutters closed but was not in time before a sheet of rain came in through the open window to drench the floor. Probably doing it no harm, Will thought, as he took in the somewhat dirty straw spread over the rough hewn wooden boards.
Gilan sighed, shoulders slumped, but he stood, dropping his half eaten bread on the table. "I suppose I had better see about the price of a room."
TBC Please review, the caffeine addicted Cricket is hungry…