The Queen of Thieves: The Line of Kings Trilogy Book Three by Craig R. Saunders, Craig Saunders Page B

and pulled roots. There was
enough traffic to keep the track clear of undergrowth, and now, in the heart of
winter, the snowfall held sludgy horse tracks and the impressions of booted
feet. Traders, hunters, woodsmen, no doubt. The Haveners had wood, meat,
furs...all manner of the forests bounty...to sell. People would travel for such
things.
                Once, Haven had been
a refuge for bandits fleeing from the old Thane of Naeth. Tarn saw an end to
the tyrant's rule, but the bandits had stayed. Their numbers had grown in the
years since Tarn and Roskel first came to visit, to learn, and to become bandits
themselves. In one attack on the camp many had died, but the population grew
once more, and Haven thrived. Roskel Farinder, too, had a soft spot for the
growing settlement. He made sure it was safe enough, and word soon got around
that the Haveners were sound traders, despite their somewhat seedy heritage.
                Rena and Asram
travelled quietly along the track, avoiding the worse of the mud and stepping
on the ruts where carts had passed and the ground had frozen afterward. Both
were wrapped in their own thoughts. The further Rena and Asram walked along the
track, the more silent the forest around them became. Birdsong stuttered and
ceased. Beasts in the undergrowth either side of the road stilled.
                Eventually, the only
sound was their footfalls upon the crusted snow and icy ground underfoot.
                'Something...' said
Rena. She did not know what was wrong...just...something. She felt the cold
more keenly, heard the sound of snowfall and the breeze in the trees...all
normal, but something was awry.
                'Aye, I feel it,
too,' said Asram, unslinging his bow from his back and removing the rain cover
from his quiver. The skies were sullen and steely, even now, close to midday,
and a steady snow fell on their heads and backs and thighs as they walked. It
was the kind of snow that had settled in for the day, and maybe the night, too.
The kind of snow that might be able to last a solid week with no hint of
sunshine to break the gloom. 
                'Remain watchful,
Lady...I do not like this...'
                'Should we turn
around?' she said, though she did not sound afraid, merely cautious.
                'We are to meet
allies at Haven.'
                But Rena did not
think they would meet allies. She did not have the gift of foretelling, but she
now knew what that little ticklish something was. It was weak, in the cold air,
but even just the hint of the thing she smelled was enough - she knew the smell
of charred flesh well.
                Asram smelled it in
the next second. His face became like stone.
                'Wait here...' he
said.
                'No,' she replied. Asram
sighed. He did not argue, but moved on. There was no point in arguing, and
whatever was amiss, leaving his charge behind was probably not wise.
                The smell drifted
toward them, stronger as they neared Haven. As they finally came within sight
of the village, Rena understood what was wrong, and her hand fled to her mouth.
                The village itself
was untouched. Each building, some ramshackle, some built with pride and skill,
remained.
                But the people did
not. There was a great pyre in the village green, high with the remains of what
could only be the villagers, smouldering still.
     
    *

 
    Chapter Twenty
     
    'Gods,' said Asram, holding one
hand to his nose as they approached the pyre. The other hand remained firmly on
his bow. His gaze flicked to the left and right endlessly, scanning for
threats. Looking for anything out of place...yet time and again his eyes were
drawn to the site of the massacre.
                'Do you...sense
anything?' asked Asram, cautiously. It was the first time he had asked - or had
cause to ask -