Zach didn’t recognize it. But as they turned onto the narrow path by the shore, he realized where he was.
“I used to fish in this lake when I was a boy,” he said.
Evvy caught his excitement. “When will we get there?”
“I’d say by nightfall, or at the worst, early morning. It’s just across, on the far side of the lake.” But as they continued to follow the lake south the path abruptly ended, disappearing into a soupy marsh. Either a stream had changed course or, more likely, men or animals had dammed one.
“Looks as if we’ll have to take a detour,” Zach said, feeling unreasonably disappointed. Now that he was almost there, he didn’t want to wait another minute. He turned his mount and began skirting the swampland. It was large and no path was cleared; the area alongside was treacherous and he rode into the woods some way to avoid it.
“Look,” said Evvy. She pointed to a low, narrow wooden bridge, which seemed to lead across the swamp. Beyond it was a red dirt road. Zach turned his mount onto the bridge. Once across he was about to head back toward the lake when a man’s voice cried out, “Halt!”
Zach reined in. “Who are you?”
A short, stout man with a ruddy face and graying hair stood by the path. He was dressed in skins, and on his head was a cap made from the fur of a fox-cat. “You’ve used our bridge,” he said. “Now pay the toll.”
Zach was disgusted. The man had no right to collect tolls; such things belonged only to the Principal. But in a region of the District as ill-patrolled as this, enterprising men could get away with anything their imaginations devised.
“How much?” he asked, deciding to pay rather than risk confrontation.
“Two pieces of metal for you . . . and two for your rider. Four altogether.”
“That’s outrageous! I’ll pay nothing! Get out of my way!” Zach started to turn the mount past the little man.
“Not so fast!” Now another man, much taller than the first, nearly as big as Zach himself, stepped into the road. He was holding a crossbow, its bolt aimed at Zach. The small man had swiftly pulled out a knife and held it in throwing position. Zach sighed.
“All right,” he said. He reached into his boot and removed four metal coins and flung them to the ground. “Take your deena-cursed toll!” he said.
The two men exchanged glances, then the first one shook his head. “Sorry, stranger,” he said. “You should have paid when we first asked. The price just went up.”
Feeling sick, Zach realized that both men were now staring, not at him as he had first thought, but just in front of him.
“What my brother means,” said the tall man, “is that we want the girl.”
Six
Z ACH HESITATED . T HE BIG MAN ahead of him was blocking the road, while the other cut off retreat to the bridge. If he had been alone, he would have turned his mount quickly into the woods, but didn’t dare take the risk with Evvy vulnerable in front of him.
“Throw down your weapons,” said the little man.
“You’re making a dangerous mistake,” said Zach.
“You’ll be making a bigger one if you don’t do what I say.”
Zach lifted his sword and knife free from his belt and dropped them. Then he spoke again, in a commanding tone: “I am Zach, delegate of the Principal. If anything happens to me or my daughter you’ll be very sorry.”
The highwaymen exchanged glances; then the smaller one spoke again. “Get off your mount.” He had drawn a sword and approached. Zach dismounted, and the little man moved between him and the mount. “Orin,” he said, “take the girl.”
The large man put down his bow and reached for Evvy, but the mount whistled in alarm and reared, baring her teeth.
“Zach!” cried Evvy, gripping the animal’s mane.
“Hold on!” said Zach. Then, to the men: “The mount won’t let anyone near her that she doesn’t know.”
“Evil-tempered beast,” muttered Orin, backing off.
“Take her from the mount,”
“I used to fish in this lake when I was a boy,” he said.
Evvy caught his excitement. “When will we get there?”
“I’d say by nightfall, or at the worst, early morning. It’s just across, on the far side of the lake.” But as they continued to follow the lake south the path abruptly ended, disappearing into a soupy marsh. Either a stream had changed course or, more likely, men or animals had dammed one.
“Looks as if we’ll have to take a detour,” Zach said, feeling unreasonably disappointed. Now that he was almost there, he didn’t want to wait another minute. He turned his mount and began skirting the swampland. It was large and no path was cleared; the area alongside was treacherous and he rode into the woods some way to avoid it.
“Look,” said Evvy. She pointed to a low, narrow wooden bridge, which seemed to lead across the swamp. Beyond it was a red dirt road. Zach turned his mount onto the bridge. Once across he was about to head back toward the lake when a man’s voice cried out, “Halt!”
Zach reined in. “Who are you?”
A short, stout man with a ruddy face and graying hair stood by the path. He was dressed in skins, and on his head was a cap made from the fur of a fox-cat. “You’ve used our bridge,” he said. “Now pay the toll.”
Zach was disgusted. The man had no right to collect tolls; such things belonged only to the Principal. But in a region of the District as ill-patrolled as this, enterprising men could get away with anything their imaginations devised.
“How much?” he asked, deciding to pay rather than risk confrontation.
“Two pieces of metal for you . . . and two for your rider. Four altogether.”
“That’s outrageous! I’ll pay nothing! Get out of my way!” Zach started to turn the mount past the little man.
“Not so fast!” Now another man, much taller than the first, nearly as big as Zach himself, stepped into the road. He was holding a crossbow, its bolt aimed at Zach. The small man had swiftly pulled out a knife and held it in throwing position. Zach sighed.
“All right,” he said. He reached into his boot and removed four metal coins and flung them to the ground. “Take your deena-cursed toll!” he said.
The two men exchanged glances, then the first one shook his head. “Sorry, stranger,” he said. “You should have paid when we first asked. The price just went up.”
Feeling sick, Zach realized that both men were now staring, not at him as he had first thought, but just in front of him.
“What my brother means,” said the tall man, “is that we want the girl.”
Six
Z ACH HESITATED . T HE BIG MAN ahead of him was blocking the road, while the other cut off retreat to the bridge. If he had been alone, he would have turned his mount quickly into the woods, but didn’t dare take the risk with Evvy vulnerable in front of him.
“Throw down your weapons,” said the little man.
“You’re making a dangerous mistake,” said Zach.
“You’ll be making a bigger one if you don’t do what I say.”
Zach lifted his sword and knife free from his belt and dropped them. Then he spoke again, in a commanding tone: “I am Zach, delegate of the Principal. If anything happens to me or my daughter you’ll be very sorry.”
The highwaymen exchanged glances; then the smaller one spoke again. “Get off your mount.” He had drawn a sword and approached. Zach dismounted, and the little man moved between him and the mount. “Orin,” he said, “take the girl.”
The large man put down his bow and reached for Evvy, but the mount whistled in alarm and reared, baring her teeth.
“Zach!” cried Evvy, gripping the animal’s mane.
“Hold on!” said Zach. Then, to the men: “The mount won’t let anyone near her that she doesn’t know.”
“Evil-tempered beast,” muttered Orin, backing off.
“Take her from the mount,”
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