Iron (The Iron Between Book 2) by Cladain Micheal

Author:Cladain, Micheal
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PerchedCrowPress
Published: 2023-08-30T00:00:00+00:00

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By the time they were on the forest path, the morning was in full colour and voice. Clíodhna could see spring in the undergrowth and hear it in the forest animals. It wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold either. She was fighting for breath and trying her hardest not to appear weak in the eyes of these men.

Speed was their ally.

They couldn’t use stealth because they needed the packhorse to carry the pay chest. Quintus said an ancient crone with milky eyes could track a packhorse laden with so much weight. In some ways, Clíodhna was glad to be able to stretch. She found the pace of almost running was preferable to having her hands and ankles tied while lying over the back of the animal. Apart from the discomfort, the animal stank of dusty old hides and horse dung.

Her preference didn’t make it easier.

Quintus had arranged the contubernium with Clíodhna in the middle. The legionary at the front led the packhorse. He was short—as most of the southern men were—but stocky, and it seemed to her that his legs would never give in. The bow across his shoulders was as tall as he was. She could only imagine the strength required to pull it. A man was in front of her, a man on either side, and four men were behind. Quintus kept to the rear, intermittently cajoling them to more pace and dropping back to check for pursuit.

Having been tied face down, Clíodhna had not seen anything of the forest route her abductors took to reach the knoll. Besides her position, the Teutons’ torches had offered only limited light. With the contubernium’s pace, she kept her head down, concentrating on breathing, and could see where the warriors had passed. Boot prints. Hoof prints. Broken branches and torn leaves.

An old crone without eyes could follow this track.

The pace was relentless, and it was not long before Clíodhna’s determination began to be less than enough. When her pace dropped, Quintus ordered the contubernium to keep running and slowed to stay with her.

‘Are you well?’ he asked.

‘Well enough. I’ve no idea how long I was strapped to a horse and then a rock. I’m just stiff.’

‘Only a few hours. It was nearly the witching hour when we started tracking. We’d already caught up when they made camp on the hill. Had to wait for the light to kill them by…’ He hesitated, seeming to think, before calling, ‘Marcus, you take the rear; I will lead the pack horse.’

The leading soldier stopped and handed Quintus the reins.

‘Up,’ Quintus said to Clíodhna.

‘I’m not a child. I can walk.’

‘It’s not a suggestion, Clíodhna. You’re slowing us down. It’s not just a possibility that the Germanics will follow us. They want the silver. They risked much to get it, and they will come.’

Put like that, Clíodhna agreed and accepted Quintus’s help to get up in front of the chest, wedged between the box and the horse’s neck. At least when she was sitting, the stench was less forceful than when her nose was stuck to the horse’s flank.

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