Torchlight started to brighten the area they were in, faint at first, but definitely getting stronger, indicating that someone was heading in their direction.
“If you’re lying to me cur,” someone snarled, his voice deep and gravelly. “I’ll gut you here and now and let my horse stomp on your entrails while you look on.”
“Na mon,” squeaked a high-pitched response. “I know there be one a dem hiding holes roun’ ere. I sees Misstress Red checkin’ it ‘erself. Dey ain’t be easy ta find or dey ain’t secret, don’ya’know.”
Kre could visibly see Kitalia’s lip curl up into a visceral snarl.
Rodi. He could see her forming the name on her lips, ready to spit it out like it was something rotten.
The clomping of hooves got closer, and the torchlight flickered through the underbrush they hid behind, enough to cause shadows behind them. Through the small gaps in the leaves, Kre could see a single Ranger on horse trailing behind a walking Rodi. A long rope bound Rodi’s wrists and the other end was tied to the Ranger’s saddle.
Kre began to wonder if perhaps Rodi wasn’t a traitor after all, if perhaps he was being coerced to work with the Rangers.
“Jess ya be sure ya gots me money,” Rodi called back in his sing-song way. “I ain’t be doin’ dis out of me own kindness ya know.”
The Ranger laughed and he pulled the horse to a halt, not twenty feet from their hiding spot. “Oh, I know. Trust me, you’ll get your payment… IF your information pans out.”
“I should be gettin’ half na, ya know,” Rodi muttered grumpily.
“You’re alive,” the Ranger snarled. “Count that among your payment. Get to finding that hidden door and we’ll make sure it stays that way.”
Rodi sighed and muttered something under his breath. He started to push through some of the bushes on the far side of the clearing while the Ranger leaned forward in his saddle, obviously bored and annoyed with his assigned task.
A shrill whistle broke through the trees. Five notes of differing pitches, one after the other in a short little ditty.
The Ranger perked up, head cocked listening to the whistle. “Time to go little man,” he called down to Rodi. “Even if we found this escape hatch, they’re long gone.” He pulled sharply at the rope, causing Rodi to fall to the ground and slide a few feet as the Ranger turned his horse.
If Rodi had a reply, it was lost as he was dragged along the ground away from where Kre and Kitalia were hidden.
“I shall kill him,” she snarled, releasing the pent-up anger she had likely been harboring since the moment he walked into the clearing.
“How about we run,” Kre suggested. “I like that idea better, since he’s back where the Rangers are all likely gathered in one large unassailable group.”
“They are sending out patrols to the east and south, knowing that we would be headed in one of those directions.” She still bore the look of hatred on her face, seething at what Rodi had done.
“East towards the port city, where we could have gotten a ship,” Kre thought aloud to himself, mostly to make sure he understood the grimness of the situation at hand. “South to the river, where we might have been able to find a way to float down to the main highway, close to the Wyrth border.”
He snapped his fingers, “We could go northeast to Sandort where I can turn myself in to the court and have them arrange the rest of my trip to the Citadel.”
Kitalia gave him an odd look, something resembling pity, sadness, and disgust all in one. “You never read the court documents, have you?”
Kre shook his head. “Well, no,” he admitted. “There wasn’t really a need to since I suffered through the trial. Braun compiled them on our last night in town and things sort of… advanced quickly after that.”
“I see. We need to rectify that, but not here. Suffice to say, you cannot go to Sandort. I may not know what happened that night the crime was committed, but I do know that these documents tell a very different story than what you tell. If you go to Sandort, you will be executed.”