Free 01 - Honour of the Grave by Robin D. Laws - (ebook by Undead)

a difficult life here,” he said, “but you may do as you like, hah? Go
to find treasure one day, and ride with soldiers the next? No one to tell you
what to do, or where to be.”
    She couldn’t imagine what he was getting at, so she elevated an eyebrow and
cocked it at him. “The rest of you all have heavy armour, too, don’t you? And if
you have to leave such costly gear behind with the horses, you won’t want to let
it too far out of your sight, will you? So there’s no point picking a spot too
far into the hills…”
    He shook his head, in what she took to be agreement. She pointed to a spot
about fifty feet up, along a steep and narrow pathway. “That looks promising.
Hold the lantern this way.” Benno moved the light, and she saw a telltale smudge
across the sheer face of a large chunk of granite. “See that? Soot from an old
campfire. You know what that means?”
    “I don’t claim to be a woodsman.”
    “It means, if that was good enough for somebody else to camp on, it’s good
enough for us. I’ll climb up to make sure it’s all right. You stay here to
signal the men.”
    “I hope you value it,” Benno said.
    “Value what?”
    “The freedom you have.”
    Her only answer to this was to scamper up the trail. The rock provided a
nearly perfect place for them to rest for the night. And only one path led up to
it. It would give them shelter from gusts coming down off the mountain. Loose
earth padded the nearby ground, so the bedding would not be too rocky. Some past
camper had thoughtfully dug a firepit for them, which they could safely use,
when morning came, to warm their bones. She looked for tripwires and snares, and
found none. She searched the rocks for chalked signs left by goblins or
beastmen; there were none of those, either. It would be a tight fit here, with
all the men, and there was the danger that someone might roll off and drop down
a hundred feet to the hard slope below… She decided to keep this minor
drawback to herself. She would find no better spot, and was already growing
weary herself. She waved to Benno, who circled his lantern in the air, alerting
the men below to come and meet them. She sat, claiming the spot with the
softest-looking ground, and huddled in her cloak. Her behind soon found a sharp
rock, and she fought to dislodge it from the earth. It turned out to be bigger
than she’d thought, so instead she moved over a little, leaving the pointy stone
for whoever wanted to squeeze up next to her.
    She heard the men approaching and tensed up, taking her dagger from its
sheath. They were making too much noise; if there was a predator waiting for
them in the hills, it would know about them now. As they combed the hill for
dead branches, they made an even greater ruckus. Angelika regretted her
suggestion but it couldn’t be retracted now. Franziskus was still out there with
the rest of them, no doubt diligently proving the superiority of his wood
gathering. After a while, having heard no outbursts of sudden agony, she
relaxed, and let slumber take her. Angelika had trained herself to fall asleep
quickly, but to maintain a consciousness of her surroundings when dozing, and to jolt awake on the slightest sign of
danger.
    Someone approached. She opened her eyes. It was Franziskus, about to shake
her shoulder. She leaned aside, and he pulled back. He took his place beside
her. But the sharp rock jabbed his buttock, so he stood and walked to her other
side, and settled in. They watched the Sabres lay down bedrolls, circling each
other grimly as they vied for the best spots. They tested their choices, lying
down and locating the stones that lay beneath their rancid blankets. Stones
large enough to be dislodged were torn from the loose earth and tossed into the
bushes or off the precipice, where they thudded loudly. Angelika cringed. These
were idiots, not woodsmen. One of the men began to gather sticks for a fire.
    “No fires,” Angelika called out.