Chapter 4

It was raining. The weather had warmed a bit, the snow had melted, and it was now raining. It had been raining, for most of the day. Roland was miserable. He had gotten on the barge, and rode it to the Kennersy River. There, he changed to a south bound barge, and rode it to its end.

Still, Haflor said they had to go south, always south. Now with the slightly warming weather, the melting snow, and the rain; the roads were getting very bad indeed. In fact, it got so bad that Haflor had to work some sort of magic to give the horse purchase on the muddy road.

Roland passed bogged down wagons, and people just sitting on the roadside waiting for the roads to improve. Still, he pressed on. He wished he were back in the city. He had exchanged some of the gems he had been carrying in the city of Three Rivers.

It was a fairly large city, with merchants everywhere. Because of its location on three converging rivers, it benefited from shipping, and transshipping. Barges docked and wagons rolled into and out of the city, constantly.

Roland had gone to several gem merchants, and had sold several gems to three different merchants. So he was flush with money. He had taken a southern barge, and rode it until the river swung sharply east. There, he and his horse had gotten off.

The roads this far from the center of the kingdom were just dirt tracks or dirt roads, which were now mud. It was obvious that no work had been done on them. No drainage ditches dug, no nothing. Water was as high as his horses belly in some places.

Still they pressed on southward. Haflor finally admitted that his race had long learned how to change bodies at will. His race was more a psychic type of leech, than a blood and bone being.

They had been born in swamps that were no more. They had abilities that allowed them to move from body to body. Roland expressed a curiosity as to what they had originally looked like.

Haflor said Roland wouldn't like it, and tried to change the subject. Roland however, kept at him, until Haflor sent him a mental picture of what Haflor's race had originally looked like. It was a bit disgusting, bit not as bad as Haflor had thought. They looked like very large leeches, with many tentacles.

Somehow, in the far distant past, this race of giant leeches or slugs (with primitive arms and sensor laden tentacles) had developed the ability to move from their own bodies, to other people's bodies.

Of course. Wasn't Roland playing host to one, right this minute?

Not only was Haflor feeding Roland energy, but he was sending it to the horse as well. Since the horse was doing all the work, transporting, Haflor was keeping it fed with energy and the ability to move. If the horse was not comfortable, then at least it moved well over the disaster that was termed a road.

Haflor was getting excited. He communicated that they were getting close. Just a couple more days would put them very close indeed to the one for whom he searched. Roland was feeling relieved and apprehensive at the same time. He had gotten a good idea of what to expect when they came upon this mysterious person/entity. Haflor had a grievance with it/him/her, and was going to exact revenge.

Roland was the convenient body that it chose to inhabit during this dangerous outing. As they got closer to their prey, Roland became more nervous. After all, he was but 16, and had been raised to respect life.

To deliberately hunt someone... well, it seemed wrong. Sure, he hunted animals with his father, but that was normal. There was an order to the world, and an order of hunter and the hunted. Roland guessed this was a higher order of hunting, but to him it seemed excessive.

Still, he had made a deal, and he was stuck with it. Really, could he dislodge Haflor if Haflor didn't want to go? His only hope was to complete this agreement, and hope Haflor moved on, as he had promised to do.

The rain tapered off to a light drizzle. Roland was totally soaked, yet Haflor kept him moving. Finally Roland said he had to stop and rest. He said that the horse needed to rest, also. There was only so much that magic could do.

Haflor agreed, reluctantly. If they lost the horse, it would slow them down significantly. Roland kept a sharp eye out for a good spot to camp. Almost an hour later, he saw the perfect place.

It was a small rise, with enough trees standing to create a very nice shelter against the wind and the rain. It took him only twenty minutes before he had a place set up for himself. Next, he spent another twenty minutes finding enough dry bedding to sleep on. Everything was damp, but with his waterproofed ground cloth, it was comfortable enough.

Early the next morning, Roland heard a thrashing sound. It woke him. He sat up, and pulled on his boots. While it was not yet daylight, it was almost dawn. There was another sound, and a stifled "shhhh", sound. Uh oh, this didn't sound good.

Roland silently retrieved his bow, and strung it. He selected an arrow, and waited. His lumpy bedding made it appear that he was still lying in it. He didn't have long to wait. A figure appeared, and he heard a thunk as an arrow hit the bedding. He bit his lip, and waited.

A figure came out of the woods and said, "I got him. Let's get his stuff. Don't forget his pouch. He cashed in gems, and is walking around with a lot of money."

Another figure came out from a slightly different direction. The two walked cautiously towards Roland's bedding.

Roland took careful aim. He loosed an arrow at the man holding the bow. With a cry, the bowman fell. The other man turned swiftly, and started towards Roland's position. Roland grabbed another arrow, and fired it. It hit the man in the upper thigh. The man screamed in pain, and fell to the ground. Roland set another arrow against the bowstring, and waited... perhaps there was a third man?

The wounded man screamed and begged for help, and for Roland not to kill him. Roland ignored him. Haflor was silently congratulating Roland for his marksmanship. With a survivor, they could question him as to their purpose. Roland figured it was robbery plain and simple.

"Who are you and why did you attack me?" Roland asked the now moaning man on the ground.

"Please, help me!" gasped the man on the ground, holding his wounded leg.

"Why should I help you? Your friend shot into my bedding, thinking it was me. I would be the one dead on the ground, now, if I hadn't heard you two as you approached," Roland told him.

"My brother is dead? NOOO!!! I was supposed to watch over him. Dad told me to watch him," the guy on the ground whimpered.

"Well, you watched him shoot me. Did someone tell you to shoot at me?" Roland asked, having been prodded by Haflor.