Pathfinder's Way(57)

Eamon waited until the two men were midway down before threatening in a  low growl, "Stop where you are, or we'll open a few extra holes in you."

One of the men looked down, his expression lost in the dark. "Eamon?"

"Buck?" Eamon's voice was puzzled but pleased. "What are you doing here?"

Buck and Phillip made it the rest of the way down the slope, sliding the  last few feet. Safely on the ground, Buck said, "We saw the flare and  figured you had found the package. Thought you might need help, so here  we are."

He waited, obviously hoping they would fill him in on what they had  discovered, but Eamon kept his council, telling him instead, "We need to  head back to camp. Are your horses close? Otherwise you'll have to  follow when you can."

If Buck was disappointed Eamon didn't answer his unspoken question, he  didn't show it. He pointed back up the slope and said, "We left them up  there. It shouldn't be too hard to retrieve them and then meet you on  the trail."

"Do that. Catch up when you can."

Until now, Shea had thought Eamon trusted his men implicitly. It was  something he'd harped on to the point of annoyance when she first joined  up with them. It didn't sit well now that he wished to keep Fallon's  identity a secret even from those who'd always had his back.

Over his shoulder, he told Shea, "Stay close and don't stop for anything."

"I don't suppose-" she began wistfully, eyeing Buck and Phillip.

"No."

She grumbled to herself and pulled faces in the dark. He hadn't even let her finish her question.

Sensing something was off, Buck asked, "What's up with Shane?"

"Don't ask. Shane, follow me and stop asking to trade companions," Eamon hissed.

"Fine."

She didn't see why Phillip or Buck couldn't take her place. One rider  was the same as the other. At least they were passable with a blade and  could defend their passenger if need be.

Airing her grievances became impossible as Eamon tore down the trail,  Shea following close behind. They couldn't travel too fast for fear of  dislodging Shea's unconscious passenger, but the pace was faster than  before.

For the most part, she kept her eyes focused on the rump of Eamon's  horse as he led the way. As she was usually point, this wasn't a role  she was unaccustomed to. He probably didn't trust her, which was totally  unfair. So she'd been a little argumentative after exposure to the  webs. That didn't mean she couldn't navigate. Hell, there had never been  a time when she couldn't find her way from point A to point B. She  could be on her deathbed and still be able to lead an expedition into  the wilderness. His suspicion was totally unwarranted.         

     



 

"Eamon," Shea shouted, finally noticing his passenger swaying dangerously. "Secure your man."

Eamon reached behind him, saying sharply, "Stay awake."

The man jolted upright and looked around.

"Stay awake. The last thing we need is for you to fall off. We didn't  save you from the spinners only to have you break your neck on the way  back to camp," Eamon warned.

The man nodded wordlessly and straightened in an attempt to stay more alert.

"Shane-"

"I know," Shea interrupted. "Keep an eye on him. I will."

After the close call with his passenger, Eamon slowed the pace a little, which was for the best as the terrain became rougher.

She felt slightly more herself as two large forms approached, traveling  fast enough to overtake Shea and Eamon. One of their horses neighed a  greeting, and Shea's horse answered by snorting loudly.

Buck rode past to take up position on Eamon's flank while Phillip did  the same with Shea. There wasn't much conversation as they continued in  grim silence, pushing their horses harder once the other two had caught  up.

Hours later the camp's many fires and torches lit up the sky, creating a  halo effect against the mountains. Eamon pushed the group even faster  and, with a grimace, Shea leaned forward to urge her horse to keep pace.

Reaching their destination's edge, they paused only long enough to  answer the sentry's challenge question before riding directly for the  heart of camp, not stopping for anything.

Even though it was well past midnight, the camp was filled with a  frenetic energy as men moved quickly through the open spaces between  tents. With the amount of people moving around, Shea doubted anybody was  left in bed.

Heads turned to stare as they made their way through. Only a few at  first and then more as others caught sight of the person draped over  Shea's horse. She fought to keep her expression bland as a man did a  double take and then shot a horrified glare at her.

Eamon rode directly for Fallon's personal tent. Because Shea was  following him, she rode that way too, feeling a sense of déjà vu.

No matter how many times the camp moved, it was always configured in the  same way. When Shea had first been brought to the encampment from  Goodwin of Ria so many months ago, she'd been chained to a post in this  same grouping of tents. What she hadn't known then was that Fallon's  tent was the big one right next to Darius's.

Now, despite everything she had done to hide herself right under Fallon's nose, here she was, back where she had started.

Men converged on their group, spilling out of the surrounding tents as  word reached them that Fallon was alive and needed help. Rough hands  reached up to jerk him down, and Shea pulled hard on the reins causing  her horse to shy away.

The two men trying to take him swore at her and reached for him again.  Shea knocked them back, baring her teeth and glaring. She knew it was  useless unless she drew a weapon, even as the men geared up to grab for  Fallon again.

Eamon's horse was suddenly between them and her, and his roar caused the  chaos to grind to a halt. "Enough! Hawkvale is seriously injured and  doesn't need you lot jerking him around."

Buck quickly flanked them, his hand dropping to his weapon as he eyed  the soldiers nervously. He looked worried but nevertheless took Eamon's  back.

"Then give him to us so we can get him to a healer," a sharp faced man with a flat nose shouted back.

"We won't release him to any but Darius or a healer," Eamon said tersely.

"Are you insane, man? We're his personal guard."

Shea started eyeing the possible escape routes, mentally analyzing the  quickest path out of camp just in case a fight erupted. She had done it  once before and that time she didn't have a horse or knowledge of the  area.

Fallon's guards outranked Eamon and under normal circumstances an order  from them within the boundaries of camp would be undisputed. Because of  the suspected betrayal that had led to Fallon falling prey to the  spinners, they didn't have the luxury of trusting blindly. Someone, or  several someone's, had betrayed Fallon.

Whether Shea liked him or not, his death would have devastating  consequences for not only the Trateri but the rest of the Lowlands as  well.

When Eamon refused, Caden, having arrived just moments ago, said in a  low voice, "Scout, do you know who we are? Think carefully because the  wrong answer will see you dead."

Eamon's voice was respectful but firm when he said, "I'm aware, but I  still can't give him to you. He can't protect himself right now."

The meaning behind Eamon's words registered with the man, and he was  quiet as thoughts turned behind his eyes. His glance flickered to where  Shea was poised to run before returning to Eamon.         

     



 

"I understand your intentions, but you're wrong. We're his personal  guard. We were chosen specifically by him for our loyalty and abilities.  Not one man under my command would harm a hair on his head, and each  would gladly die for him."

"Loyalty can change," Eamon said softly.

Holding Eamon's eyes, the man nodded slowly. "It can, but not for us.  Now, I'm willing to overlook your accusations since you've been out all  night searching for him and judging from your actions have seen some  things that don't sit well with you. But, you will give him to us."

Eamon's passenger had been quiet up until now, but after the threat  inherent in Caden's words said, "I'll vouch for their integrity. I've  fought alongside every man, and what Caden said is true. They won't let  any harm come to him."

Eamon listened intently before looking at the angry faces around him.  Many showed displeasure at having their honor questioned. In a society  where a man was only as good as his word, Eamon's doubts were a grave  insult. Shea licked her lips, knowing whatever happened over the next  few seconds were critical.

Eamon took his time looking over the men glaring silently at him. His  shoulders straightened, and he nodded as he reached a decision. "Shane,  give them the Hawkvale."

Shea's eyes jumped to Eamon's back and then down as two men immediately  started for her. Should she take Fallon and run or trust Eamon's  judgment?

The first man reached her and carefully lifted Fallon down, handling him  as if he was something precious before handing him to another. That man  turned and strode quickly into the tent, followed closely by three men  wearing the same colors as Caden.