Ontogeny

Chapter 3b

     The great south road led the Brigadier’s patrol towards the Grantens, a ridge of tall, rocky hills that some people called mountains and that marked the southern edge of Helberion territory. As they entered the lower foothills they left the last towns and villages behind and entered lands that were occupied only by the occasional goat farmer. Great pine forests covered the horizon, but the lands through which the road ran, rising steadily out of the lowlands in which the bulk of the Kingdom sat, were bare and scruffy. The soil thin and stony, just barely covering the bedrock below. The wind blew strong and cold as the bare hilltops rose around them, sucking away the heat of their bodies, and they buttoned up their jackets right up to the neck in an attempt to stay warm.

     “From here on, we're foreign soldiers travelling through someone else’s country,” said Sergeant Blane, his eyes scanning the horizon. “We have to be constantly on our guard.”

     “We have diplomatic papers, signed by the King,” replied the Brigadier. “Apologies to the King of Wilterland for the intrusion. Promises of compensation etc.”

     “Fine, if the patrol that spots us has someone who can read. What if they tell us to go back the way we came? What if they try to arrest us?”

     “Then we will have to hope that they are amenable to reason.”

     “And if they're not?”

     “We'll face that problem when and if it arises. We won’t be going through the most densely populated parts of their country. If we're lucky, we might pass right through their lands without being spotted by anyone in authority.”

     “Here's to luck, then,” said the Sergeant, taking his water bottle from his belt and taking a long drink from it.

     “We've got company,” called out Cowley, and the others followed his pointing finger to where a man was scrambling down the slope that lined the road, loose stones and bits of gravel sliding out from under his feet. The men watched with interest as he descended in a cloud of dust, wondering whether he would lose his footing before reaching the bottom and slip the rest of the way on his backside.

     “Five crowns says he falls,” said Harper with a grin.

     “You're on,” replied Spencer.

     “Gambling is a violation of the military code, mister Harper,” warned the Brigadier, eyeing him sharply.

     “Yes, sir,” replied Harper. “Just kidding, sir.” He glanced across at Spencer, though, and the two men winked at each other. The Brigadier pretended not to see.

     The man reached the road safely, and the Brigadier made a hand gesture for the patrol to halt while he came running up to them.  “Is one of you a wizard?” said the man, looking at each of them in turn as if a wizard would look different, in some way, to a normal man. “Army patrols always include a wizard, isn't that right? That's what they say, anyway.” He went to stand before the Brigadier. “Please, I need a wizard!”

     The Brigadier looked over at Quill and beckoned him over with his eyes. Quill sighed in resignation and guided his horse forward. “An ontomancer, to use the correct term,” he said. “How may I be of service?”

     “My horse,” the man replied. “We were snowed in over the winter, the pass was blocked for months. A tree fell in a gale, destroying our house. My wife and I were forced to spend most of the winter in the stable...”

     “In close proximity to the horse,” said Quill, nodding to himself. He looked at the Brigadier, saw the warning look in his eyes, and took the hint. “I'm afraid we're in something of a hurry. We don’t have time for detours.”