Part 32 (1/2)
Trees AFTER GOING ROUND one corner and losing sight of the men, Talen hid himself in the wagon bed, hoping when the men caught sight of them again, they would think Talen had jumped out and fled on foot and would stop following. But they didn't fall for the ruse.
”They're gaining on us,” Nettle said.
”I'm jumping out round that next bend,” said Talen. ”You continue on.”
”They're too close; you should have done it for real earlier.”
”I'm not going to be here when they catch us.”
”Just act normal,” said Nettle.
”Will you shut up with your normal nonsense.”
”I'm Captain Argoth's son. It will count for something.”
”Yeah,” said Talen. ”That's why I was standing around at the city gate this morning, batting horseflies away from my splendid nakedness.”
”As soon as they realize you're gone, they'll know. They'll send one back for help. The rest will watch the area. And the woods here don't run unbroken. They'll see you.”
”No,” said Talen. ”They won't.” But he knew they would. By the farting Lord of Pigs, they would.
Unless he hid so well, so quietly, like a mouse in a tuft of gra.s.s, that they'd have to be standing right on him to know he was there.
”Just get me to the bend in the road,” said Talen. They didn't have dogs, and it would be dark before they could bring them. That was the only thing he had in his favor.
Talen caught another glimpse of the men perhaps a half-dozen rods behind. There were eight of them, all Shoka.
The wagon b.u.mped along, making it difficult for Talen to keep himself flat and out of sight in the wagon bed. At this pace they weren't going to make the bend. ”Speed it up,” hissed Talen.
”We'll say you're sick.”
”It won't work,” said Talen.
Behind them, the men urged their horses into a canter.
”Faster,” said Talen.
Nettle flipped the reins and Iron Boy began to trot. The wagon bounced off a rut. They were almost to the bend, and Talen readied himself.
It was odd, but the sensation of energy and well-being he'd noticed pa.s.sing through the city gate had not vanished. If anything, it had built. He felt as if he could keep pace with a horse, maybe outrun one.
Of course, that was stupid. Still, with every jolt of the wagon his strength grew. He could feel it, like a crazy itch seeping through him. He wondered about the sweet almond small cakes. This would not be the first baker to mix a come-back into his breads. Come-backs were something to make a body depend on his bread, something besides taste to make a person come back and continue to buy. Of course, such herbs were outlawed in the New Lands, but this had been a Whitecliff baker. He probably didn't think such rules applied to him.
”We're almost to the bend,” said Nettle.
The men were closing fast. One of them yelled out.
The wagon pa.s.sed into the shade of the trees and out of the line of sight of the men.
Nettle reined in Iron Boy to slow the wagon.
Talen rose to his feet.
”You're not going to have time to find cover.”
It was true the forest floor was covered with leaves that would crackle underfoot. If they didn't see his tracks, then they'd be sure to hear any step he took.
Talen looked up. The trees here were ma.s.sive giants. All the lower limbs had been cut by clan road gangs, and the closest branch towered more than a dozen feet overhead.
It was an impossible height for him. Except, he knew he could reach it. His limbs ached to jump. What did he have to lose?
Talen stood on the wagon seat and eyed the limb of a towering elm in front of them. The branch was thick as his leg and hung almost twenty feet above the trail.
The tree limb was too high. He knew it. But he couldn't help himself. His legs cried out for a sudden burst of power. He had never imagined his growth would come upon him in this fas.h.i.+on.
He stood on the wagon seat and held his hands out to the side for balance. He would jump a bit to the side just in case he missed.
”You'll never make it,” said Nettle.
”Maybe my legs are as quick as my hands.”
”That wasn't quickness back there with Fabbis,” said Nettle. ”That was you grabbing a snake that was just about dead.”
No, Talen thought. It had been as live and wriggling as any serpent he'd ever held. Not to mention that he'd moved quickly enough to take both Fabbis and Cat off guard. Talen steadied himself; he was still a bit light-headed, but the itch inside him had built. He could feel the power.
The sound of the horse hooves beating the ground sped from a canter to full gallop.
”They're upon us!” hissed Nettle. ”Sit down!”
Talen focused on the branch. ”Tell them I struck out on foot after leaving the gate.” Then he gauged the distance and marked the spot where he should jump.
The galloping sounded like it was right behind them.
The wagon pa.s.sed underneath the branch, and Talen leapt.
He soared.
He must have got a bounce from the seat, because the branch was suddenly within reach.
He grabbed it with one hand, and the wagon pa.s.sed below him.
A thrill washed through him. He'd actually done it! Then he reached up with his other hand and swung over.
He looked down and realized it was impossible he'd just made that jump. The distance between him and the ground yawned below. Lords, a fall at this height would break his leg. Such a leap-he wanted to whoop!
Nettle turned in the wagon seat and stared up at him, his mouth hanging open. Then Nettle's attention snapped to the bend in the road.