The Lord of Misrule

Chapter 6

"A military operation involves deception. Even though you're competent, appear to be incompetent."

Ami watched as two men came into view. They were clad in a uniform of some sort; a blue tunic with dark capes tucked behind them. One of them—the 'leader' Ami presumed—sported a chainmail head-guard that draped down his neck and disappeared underneath his tunic. There was little doubt that the armor continued down his torso. He moved with an unnatural gait and each step brought with it the rustle and clink of chains moving. They slowed their pace and cautiously surveyed the surroundings.

"I dun' see no trace of 'em."

"Shut up!" the leader barked. He was examining the clearing carefully. Ami saw his grip tighten on his sword. It looked somber and ominous in the gloom of the forest, unsheathed and ready to strike. Thankfully, even though the giant oaks cast a deep shadow on the clearing, the forest soil was not damp enough to retain the imprint of their boots. "Thes' trees a bit too 'igh for a 'uman to scale" he mused thoughtfully, peering at the leafy canopy above.

Ami slid nervously along the tree branch, trying to angle herself away from their line of sight. Her breath came in shallow, choked gasps and her knuckles were white with tension. Beads of sweat peppered her forehead like dew on a blade of grass. She was sure that if they hadn't worn head-guards that muffled their ears, they would have heard her heart ready to explode.

In her apprehension, she had completely forgotten about Mikael and his frantic efforts to conceal himself. He was nowhere to be found.

She fretted with the hem of her tunic, biting her lip until the pain made her eyes water. The occasional crunch of leaves being crushed under the men's boots broke her concentration and overpowered the rhythmic burble of a nearby stream. The crunch sounded loud and harsh, completely at odds with the peaceful hum of nature and life in the forest.

As she searched the clearing, her eyes fell on a hollow near the base of an adjacent oak. The hollow was almost completely covered by a few leafy branches, which had obviously been cut off from the tree they grew from prior. Her heart sank. The butterflies started wreaking havoc in her belly once more. Hanging limp from one of the branches was another piece of Mikael's tunic, drab and coarse.

Her head jerked back towards the two mercenaries and she pleaded silently for them to abandon their search. She looked on in horror as the subordinate lackey began squinting at the hollow with a quirk of his brow. He took a few steps closer, then, with an outstretched hand, touched the flagging bit of cloth.

He gasped in excitement and hollered, "Got 'im, boss!"

Ami watched as the leader bounded towards the hollow in two giant steps. He surveyed the crudely placed branches and the torn piece of Mikael's tunic with a skeptical narrowing of his eyes. With an abrupt motion of his boot, the branches crashed to the side, revealing the insides of the hollow. It was empty. His gaze fell on another, albeit deeper, hollow a bit further down with almost the same set up – another piece of Mikael's tunic hung limply off a jagged branch, seemingly mocking them.

He sighed and whipped a glare towards his minion. "You moron," he growled, "Do you really think they're hidin' in there?" He swung out with the back of his hand, the lackey ducking out of reach and cowering before him.

"'e's tryin' to buy time by sending us on a senseless goose chase!" He eyed a few snapped twigs and crushed plants to the east and made his way over warily. "This way," he shouted, marching purposely off towards the stream with the troupe converging behind him.

Ami watched as they hacked their way forward, becoming smaller and smaller until the wall of trees and underbrush swallowed them up. Her heart thundered wildly and she had to force herself to inhale in slow, purposeful breaths to prevent from hyperventilating. Slowly, she eased her iron grip on the branch and sighed as the blood rushed back into her marble-white knuckles. She gently flexed her fist and scanned her surroundings once more.

Where could he have gone?

The more she thought of it, the more it made sense that Mikael was not in the hollow. She knew that he would not be stupid enough to believe that his crudely made hideout was good enough to pass muster. It would make more sense that he set that up to slow down the mercenaries so he could put more distance between himself and them.

Ami gazed forlornly in the direction the mercenaries had gone. Even though the lad had infuriated her to no end, she had to concede that he had gone out of his way to help her escape from Mawsby's clutches. If the mercenaries did manage to apprehend him, they'd find the strongbox on his person and he would take the punishment for her crime.

Mawsby, of course, didn't seem like a bloke that would take a lenient view towards the situation. She gnashed her teeth on her thumb until the fingernail became jagged.

I have to find him and make sure he's okay, she thought.

She eased herself off the branch and scaled down the oak's trunk with relative ease, brushing off her clothes when she reached the base. Walking over to the hollow, she fingered the torn piece of Mikael's tunic absent-mindedly.

She needed to think of a way to find him before the mercenaries did. The problem was obvious; it was near impossible to know where he had gone. Her guess was as good as the mercenaries'. In fact, her guess was probably quite a bit worse. She had no clue on how to track an animal – let alone a person – in a forest.

She was startled out of her reverie when she heard rustling from the hollow and saw the branches part to the side slowly. Mikael poked his head out and grinned at her with a wink.

"Are they gone?"  

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Author's Note:

 I'm trying to keep down the length of the chapters for the sake of mobile readers, so sometimes it feels to me like the end of the chapter is more abrupt than it should be. What do you think?

As always, I would love any feedback/criticism of the story so far. Thanks!