Forest Kingdom Trilogy 3 - Down Among the Dead Men

alone in the Forest for almost nine years, living on its bounty and by what his wits could bring him. He developed an uncanny accord with the Forest and the creatures that lived in it, and every year the human world had less attractions that might call him back. And yet he never forgot his humanity If anything, the harsh world of the Forest taught him the value of mercy and compassion.
    He never robbed anyone who couldn’t afford it, and would often poach fish and game to provide food for poor families unable to provide for themselves. He never let a tax collector pass unrobbed, and would help those who turned up lost or distressed in his part of the Forest. He had a way with birds and animals, and small children. Officially he was an outlaw, with a price on his head, but no local man or woman would turn him in. Scarecrow Jack was a part of the Forest and accepted as such. He kept apart from people, for he was by nature shy and ill at ease in company. Some said he was one of the wee folk, or a rogue goblin, or even the result of a mating between human and demon, but he was none of those things. He was just a man who loved the Forest.
    Scarecrow Jack.
    He got to his feet, still keeping carefully to the fort’s shadows, and uncoiled a length of rope from across his shoulder. He checked the knot that held the grappling hook secure, and looked up at the battlements with a calculating eye. He hefted the rope a moment to get the feel of the weight, and then threw the hook up into the night sky with a swift, easy movement. Moonlight glinted on the steel hook as it arced over the battlements and disappeared from sight. Jack waited a moment to let the hook settle, and then pulled carefully on the rope until it went taut. He tugged hard a few times, to be sure the rope would bear his weight, and then climbed nimbly up the outer wall of the fort. His experienced feet found a good many footholds in the apparently smooth stone to help him on his way, and he soon reached the battlements and dropped lithely down onto the inner catwalk. He crouched motionless in the shadows for a long moment, but there was no sign of anyone watching.
    Jack quickly made his way down into the courtyard, and padded silently over to the stables; the number of horses would tell him how many guards there were. But even as he approached the stable he knew something was horribly wrong. He stopped by the slightly open doors and sniffed cautiously. The thick, coppery smell of blood was heavy on the night air. Jack eased the doors open and crept slowly forward, one step at a time, and then stopped dead as his excellent night vision showed him the wrecked stalls and the dark stains on the floor and walls. Jack frowned. By their condition, the bloodstains had to be weeks old, but the smell of blood in the stable was so fresh and strong as to be almost overpowering… . He checked the floor for tracks. Two people had come and gone recently, but there was no sign to show what had attacked the horses. Jack scowled and left the stables.
    The air outside was clear and fresh, and he breathed deeply to clear the stink of blood from his nostrils. Jack looked thoughtfully around the empty courtyard. He’d known something had to have gone wrong in the fort for it to have seemed deserted for so long, but this … worried him. It wasn’t natural. It grated on his senses, like a roll of thunder too faraway to hear. Jack couldn’t put his feelings into words, but that didn’t bother him. He lived as much by instincts as reason. He glared warily about him and followed the guards’ tracks across the empty courtyard and into the main reception hall.
    Four horses stood close together, fast asleep. Jack remembered the state of the stables and nodded under-standingly The four nooses hanging from the ceiling were less easy to understand. Jack scowled. The bad feeling he’d had in the courtyard was even stronger here, and once again he could smell blood on the air. It was cold too, unnaturally cold. Something bad had happened here; he could feel it in his bones. He checked the dusty floor for the guards’ tracks, and moved carefully past the sleeping horses. They seemed disturbed in their sleep, as though bothered by bad dreams, but they didn’t wake as he passed. Jack followed the tracks out into the corridor, and then stopped and peered about him uncertainly. The gloom wasn’t much of a problem to him, but he didn’t like being inside buildings. They made him feel all