Prologue
The fox froze as a twig snapped beneath its feet. A faint scent of burning wood tickled its nose, otherwise the night was still. Carefully and soundlessly the fox moved from tree to tree, slowly making its way forward. From the fox’ mouth dangled a rodent. A soft, flickering light came from the middle of a glade. The fox hesitated a fraction of a second before rushing to the other side, unaware of the man slowly sitting back down on a log by a small fire.
Reshien let go of his knife and breathed relieved. Just a fox. Above him, the stars glittered strong in the absence of the moon. The night of the new moon, finally he would know the result of his careful planning. If they had succeeded with the first step, the next would be a breeze. As he waited in the glow of the dying ember small bobbing dots appeared far into the forest. Moving closer. Soon the shapes of bulky men became visible, outlined by the burning torches. To his relief, Reshien recognized the person in the front. And he were carrying a big box. The waiting was over.
He rose smoothly from the log as the men poured into the clearing. They carried boxes in various sizes, hiding the content from spying eyes. Though if everything had been done as instructed, there would be no eyes that could spy and no mouths to tell the tale. That was why Reshien’s eyebrows shot up in surprise when the last two men instead of carrying a box carried a person, hanging from their arms. The person was hanging listlessly, as if only barely conscious. The dress of high quality fabric in a rosy colour was tattered and worn, stains miscolouring the already ruined dress.
“I don’t recognize my orders including bringing a woman”, he said quietly to Sarhas. The big man bent down and said in a low voice.
“You want to see this one”. Curiosity sparked Reshien approached the bedraggled figure, it lifted its head. Halting abruptly he stared. It wasn’t a woman. Plaited in to his beard was small colourful pearls. Lines marked his face, visible even beneath the bruises. The rose-coloured fabric wasn’t a dress, it was a robe. Small flowers were embroidered along the hem of the collar. The man’s eyes was moving slowly in different directions as if he couldn’t think properly. Reshien walked up to the man, signalling his men to release him. The man dropped to the ground, breathing heavily. Reshien squatted in front of the man.
“What is he?” he asked curiously, still looking keenly at the man.
“He was on the ship”, Sarhas answered. “From Alcan or something like that. He didn’t put up any resistance when we captured him. We though you would find it interesting.”
That was very true if, however, very unfortunate for the man himself. He couldn’t allow anyone to find out about his plans just yet. He unsheathed his knife and rubbed the handle thoughtfully. The man’s eyes fell on the blade, understanding dawning in his eyes.
“Please”, he whispered. “Please, let me go.”
Ah, yes, Reshien thought reproaching, of course. The begging.
“Please”, the man repeated. “Please let me go. My son. He won’t make it without me! He still needs me.”
“Son?” Reshien said with renewed interest. “A man like you have a son?”
“He needs me”, mumbled the man. “Please…” A tone of hopelessness entered the tired and parched voice. Reshien looked at the begging man with a feeling of wonder. It was reminiscent of a man looking at an animal he had never seen before. With a smooth motion he cut the man’s throat. Eyes bulging in surprise as they glossed with death closed before the man toppled to the ground, blood spilling from the cut. The man was already dead.
Reshien cleaned his knife of the fancy fabric and rose without looking at the corpse. He sheathed the knife and walked towards the boxes carefully lined by the fire.
“Depose of it”, he told his men, even before they hurried to obey the man was already gone from his mind.