Ranestone: Return of The Serpent

Chapter Eleven-Abe

He'd been riding for days on end.

In front of him, Mud's head was bent down with exhaustion, his gait slow as they made their way up the dirt road to Charlton.

The panicked night ride through the swamp had been one of the more terrifying times of Abe's life.

Just thinking back to the way he'd had to look over his shoulder every second as they'd struggled in the mud for hours made him shudder in the saddle.

They'd taken the long route through the swamp, so there had been no chance of them being followed. However, he'd come to regret the decision after hours of struggling through the thick mud, the cackling cries of coyotes sounding in the dark around them.

His tired horse had barely had a break since they'd fled Trent, and he knew they must stop soon, but the mysterious black envelope he'd slipped into his vest weighed heavily on his mind.

What dark message could be within the envelope, so sinister that it's original messenger had been killed for it?

He could be involving himself in something dangerous, deadly, even.

*

The familiar curiosity had overtaken him as they'd ridden.

He wanted to open the mysterious black envelope.
No. Had to, and though every part of the messenger's code forbade it, Abe pulled the letter from his vest with a shaking hand.

He stared down at the blank black envelope, turning it over to the wax snake seal.

He'd delivered and received more letters on the long way to Drynden, but he'd rushed, as he didn't know when the black envelope was meant to be delivered.

For all he knew it was already too late. The cloaked man who'd given it to him was dead, unable to tell him when the letter must be delivered.
But there was no use in obsessing over the rather uncertain, possibly dangerous future that lay before him. He'd learned that from years of living alone and fending for himself on the road. It was best to only do what was needed in the present. Worrying about what had not yet happened did nothing.

He would simply drop off the letter at the Pinewood Manor in Charlton and be on his way safely. As the code of honor stated, messengers would not be harmed despite the message they delivered, and this had proven true in all the years he'd spent as a messenger.
But the feeling that whatever this black envelope held could be leading him into danger would not leave him.

Before he lost his nerve, he took a breath, then carefully peeled off the wax seal, making sure it retained its shape: a coiled snake.

He pulled out the white piece of paper tucked within, and unfolded it. There were small symbols written with black ink on the center of the ivory sheet.
To the untrained eye, they appeared to be only scribbled lines, dots, and circles. But he knew immediately it was a cipher.

This was one of many secret languages used by those who who did not want to risk their messages being read if found in the wrong hands.
Abe had learned many different types of cipher—it had been required in order to be an official messenger—and this particular array of symbols appeared to be similar to one of the more complex kinds.