One verst farther, thought Zdenka, and she would
exchange the reins for Beata’s crossbow for a while.
The road became narrower, less of a beaten path, and wove
upwards now among rolling hills and between ever denser forests. Leaves of some trees could be seen that were starting
to turn yellow and red with the encroaching autumn.
Traffic, whether merchants, pilgrims, farmers, or bandits,
was absolutely nil.
Sister Ludmilla remarked that this level of quiet was
strange even for this backwater road.
Ludmilla called on Beata, who was driving at that early afternoon
moment, to stop the wagon. She exited
over the tail of the vehicle, circled around it, and bent over to peer at the
sand and dirt of the road surface a cart-length before their horses. Silvernose, Beata, and Zdenka hopped off the
wagon to join her.
Ludmilla pointed out the fresh wheel tracks, hoofmarks, and
footprints she was looking at, which indicated to the hermitess that an
impressive caravan or cavalcade of many wagons, horses, oxen, and human beings
had traveled this route in the opposite direction just a few days ago.
Zdenka knelt close to the prints and ruts Ludmilla was
analyzing.
Ludmilla turned to Zdenka with further findings: “Do you see
these prints here… and here? All sizes
of people. Children, women, men. Shod and unshod. The length of stride seems to show they were
in a hurry.”
Zdenka nodded, impressed with Ludmilla’s tracking
skills. However difficult she was to get
along with in close quarters with many people, she more than compensated with
skills that fit her nearly self-sufficient Hill Country hermitage life. Ludmilla was apparently adept at herb lore,
medicine, and tracking. Zdenka guessed
that Ludmilla raised much or all of her own food, and was likely an expert at
fishing and trapping.
“Oh, and will you look at this?” continued Ludmilla, half
for herself and half for Zdenka. Dark
brown spatters had seeped into some of the prints in the roadbed.
Zdenka sniffed. She scented
a sharp, metallic acridness mixed with sand and road dust. She knew this scent, had smelled it many times
before.
“It’s blood,” pronounced Zdenka.
+++
Our story so far...
The Terror of the Trdlo, Serialized:
Part I - The Adventure Begins (But Not Really the Terror, Yet)
Part II - Zdenka vs. The Green-Eyed Monster (Jealousy - That Is)
Part III - Nun: The Wiser
Part IV - The Hermitess
Part V - Silvernose Arrives Minus His Weird Girlfriend
Part VI - She's Gone Feral
Part VII - A Little Traveling Music
Part VIII - Horror at the Hermitage
Part IX - The Rutting Moon
Part X - Herbal Interlude
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