Cold stinging rain drummed on the brim
of Rhysel’s hat as he strode through the camp. Occasionally a drop
would work its way down his back, but for the most part he was
remarkably dry. Still, guard duty on a night such as this was not a
task that any man would envy. By rights, he was not required to walk
a post, but he preferred to lead by example.
The tents hummed in the growling wind as
he walked past. He knew his men were talking inside, but nothing
could be heard over the storm. It was as bad a night as he could
remember since coming to Elsbeck two years ago.
To make matters worse, he could not seem
to shake the feeling that he was being watched. Not the feeling you
get when you know you have been seen by a wolf, it was the feeling
you get when you are being hunted. Something was out in the trees,
pacing him as he made his way through the camp. Rhysel was not
frightened, but it was a bit unsettling.
In truth he had nothing to base this
feeling on. He had seen nothing during his two hour tour of the camp.
Neither had he heard anything, impossible as that would have been. It
was nothing more than a feeling, but Rhysel knew better than to
second guess himself in this kind of situation.
He gave no indication that he knew he
was being stalked, other than the occasional glance into the trees.
Better to let whatever was out there think it was going unnoticed for
now, if there was anything out there at all. Rhysel was not prone to
nerves, but he was becoming more and more unsettled.
He and his detachment had been sent out
by the Chief to search for the girl called Marya. Apparently, she had
gone missing during the attack on the citadel and while she was
presumed dead, the Chief was taking no chances. Even more alarming
was the matter of Godmer’s disappearance. Anything that could carry
Godmer off was not to be taken lightly. The last anyone saw of him,
he was patrolling the main hall and the area just outside the doors.
Anyone who would have seen what happened was now dead.
The hairs at the nape of his neck stood
up, and he paused to peer into the wind swept trees. Something was
definitely watching him. Nothing he could see, but that made it no
less real. He supposed it could simply be a case of exhaustion paired
with the incessant cacophony of the storm. The wind had died down
over the past twenty minutes, so at least he would be able to hear if
anything moved.
The fact that the Chief had hand-picked
Rhysel for this task made him less inclined than usual to give in to
this seemingly imaginary predator in the woods. That coupled with the
Chief placing him in charge of the operation gave him a sense of duty
that precluded any indulgence of such fancies. Still, the feeling
would not leave him, however he tried to get his mind off it
His second in command, a man called Avel
would see things differently. He would likely see it as a threat to
the safety of the men and deal with it accordingly. Which is to say
that anything stalking him would find itself on the business end of a
very large axe.
As he crunched across the frozen mud, he
noticed a dim gray light filtering through the rain. The sun would be
up soon and he would go back to his tent for a few hours’ sleep
before the party continued its search for the missing girl and the
Chief’s brother.
The horses whickered and tossed their
heads as he passed the tether line. He was only a few paces from the
tents when he heard a faint rustling in the trees off to his left. He
thought it might be an animal of some kind, but that was unlikely in
this weather.
He slowed his pace imperceptibly, and
continued toward the tents. The men inside would not have heard
anything, but he would feel much better being away from whatever was
out there. It sounded larger than anything that would inhabit this
part of the province, except perhaps a wild bison. But they never
ventured very far into the trees.
Rhysel watched the trees from the corner
of his eye as he approached the first tent. As he stepped under the
awning, he heard the men inside talking. They would likely deride him
as a childish prat if he stopped this close to the end of his shift.
It would all be in fun, of course, but he would rather not endure it
if it could be avoided.
As he walked past the first tent, he
felt more than heard a low rumbling growl. He instinctively placed
his hand on the hilt of the sword at his hip.
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