A Bullet Or Two

Chapter 2.4

On either side of the road, the hills had closed in, shed their layers of grass, and turned rocky.

Jonnie had trotted a good distance ahead of the girls, out of sight of where Delilah remained with Charlotte and her produce. 

Delilah was content. Happy to chat away the hours of travel ahead of them. Feel the cool breeze whisp against her face and through her hair. Content to bounce up from the cart whenever it mounted a rock or fell into a hole. 

By now, Jonnie would have grown familiar with his stallion and the continuous fields of crops. An intimidating beast that Delilah had not persuaded herself to near back at the Manor. Its head held high, and its body looked like it could trample a crowd of people in one run. The two pulling the cart were less so. Still intimidating, but not in a murderous way. As the journey went on, signs of fatigue began to show. Their heads hung low, their steps slacking. To survive this long without stopping was impressive, their endurance was something Delilah hated to admire.

Delilah kept her attention on the road ahead. Swiveled around every so often to check they were not being followed. The hills were too steep now for thieves to approach from the left or the right. The road ahead had quickly become all she could watch.

Fifteen carts were attacked in the last month or so. Fifteen were filled from the same fields that stocked the one Charlotte and she were perched on. She could not believe it, nor comprehend how it was possible. A scout hired by the Baron was always sent with the farmers. Two after the first three robberies. Messages of the deliveries were sent no more. But none of this prevented the thefts. It made no sense.

Hooves met gravel, in a ricochet of metal against rock. The two mares plodded on and the cart with them. Small waves of dust began to form in the breeze, and Charlotte ushered them on into it with a flick of the reins.

From the country town of Cornswald to the great East City it would take half a day. They were expected to arrive at Baron's warehouse no later than sundown with every single bundle of wheat and barley that had left Charlotte's manor. The company rode onwards. Not a beat in Delilah's heart skipped and a slight tilt upwards of her lips only hinted that she was not paying full attention to Charlotte's rambles about the superstitious hag in the village. Rather, her thoughts were on the road and on the look on Baron's face when they arrived safe – she would be successful with this job, without a doubt.

The girls' chatter petered out the longer they drove, Charlotte seemed to relax on the reins and slugged back against the bench. 

Metal clinked on rocks. Each hoof clop followed the other in a calming rhythm. One. Two. Three. Four. It was an onward march. The end of the rocky hills was close. One. Two. Three. Four. The dust still clouded before them, but the horses drove forward, dragging the cart along the road with each step. One. Two. Three.

Then, something else met the rock with a bang.