Bron stood in the ash in the middle of the still smoldering trees. He was staring down at the burnt remains of a soldier whose metal armor had melted into his chest in such a way that it created a gross parody of a chest with the ribs sticking through. Surveying the damage done by the fire before luck or lack of fuel had put it out, Bron frowned.
"Clearly this was where they caught up with her, or at least where she made a stand." Barik pointed out. "If these remains are any indication then it bodes well for finding her alive."
"I hope so. The fire started somewhere around here," Bron said, pointing at an area that was nothing but ash, "then carried upslope. From the corpses we have found it looks like some were killed by mage fire and others were unfortunate enough not to have gotten away fast enough."
"I will defer to your expertise in land battles. Still, from the discarded armor and remains of the gear we found, not all of them died. This one," Barik kicked the metal encrusted remains, "looks to have been an officer. Luck to have killed that one."
"Maybe. Maybe she waited until she saw him to add confusion. If I were her, I would have run downhill from here until I was sure I was in no immediate danger. Then I would have found water and tried to lay a false trail." Bron pointed. "We go that way."
"How can you be sure she would do this?" Barik wondered if there was something he missed.
"Because it's what I would do and I trained her." Bron said simply.
They moved off as quickly as they could and in a few minutes Bron was rewarded when one of the men pointed out footprints on the forest floor. "Quickly now, lads." Barik said as Bron quickened his pace to follow the trail. They soon came to a small stream. Bron halted the men for a rest while he studied the trail. Most of them gratefully bent down and drank deeply of the cold mountain water.
"Here. This is where she laid the false trail and this is where they followed. I make it eight or nine remaining." Bron said. Barik looked at the mud and up into the forest.
"How can you tell?" Barik asked.
"See here? This is a woman's size print. So is this and this but notice how the heel in this one is slightly larger than these others. They were all made by the same boot but the heel is larger because someone stepped back into a track they had already made. These others, here and here that muddy the trail up show at least eight different impressions. Some of the boots are the same size but slightly deeper or off enough to show they are unique." Bron pointed out. Barik shook his head in admiration.
"I would have missed all of that and followed the false trail." Barik said.
"That was the point. Aeronwyn and I spent a lot of time going over woodcraft before she learned these same lessons." Bron turned to the sailors. "Upstream boys. We are going to get our feet wet."
They made their way upstream until Bron held up his hand and motioned them to stop. He motioned them to move out of the stream on the uphill slope. There was only stone and rock here so Barik asked, "Why here?"
"This is where they came out. See how all the stones are either dry, facing up or in the water? Except that one," Bron pointed, "and that one." Barik could see they were darker than the others. On closer examination he realized that they were damp.
They moved onto a stone outcropping and Bron made them wait again while he walked in a large semi-circle. He repeated his walk, moving a little further away from them each time until he cried out, "Here we are. Let's move. I know where she is going!"
They set out a slow run, making their way through the forest. Barik was a bit lost but Bron was surefooted and certain as he led them. They ran as long as they could, then walked when some of the men were too exhausted to keep up. After that, Bron had them run for a few minutes, then walk for a few minutes. Barik realized that they could keep up this pace almost indefinitely. After a few hours, Bron held his hand up again. "Take a ten minute break. We are gaining but I can't have you all too tired to fight if we run into anyone."
They drank from their water skins and ate some tack that each man carried in a pouch on his belt. The tack was meat and corn that was mixed together, pounded out and dried. Most ships carried some as emergency rations in case the salt beef was bad. Barik thought it tasted better than he remembered then realized that his body was craving salt from the perspiration lost as they ran.
Long before any of them were ready, Bron told them it was time to move out. He kept them at the same pace, running, then walking as the shadows of the trees started to grow longer. Finally, when it was getting too dark to travel safely, he stopped them. "No fires, no lights. Get some rest. Three watches, Barik. Your call."
Barik assigned two men to each watch then, exhausted, lay on the forest floor. As tired as he was, he was having trouble sleeping. The Sessailaine were the world's best sailors and perhaps it's best fighters as well. Still, no Sessailaine he knew could have followed the trail today like Bron had showed him. Maybe it is time we fostered out some of our young men to learn landsman ways? If I had to pursue an enemy in forest or prairie land, I would be at a distinct disadvantage to one skilled as Bron is. I will have to suggest this to Biort and the Council. These are good skills to have, much like being able to navigate at sea. Barik considered today and decided he would press for this on their return.
Some time after that, Barik was shaken awake by Bron. "Get up. Now. Aeronwyn needs our help!"
