Forest Kingdom Trilogy 3 - Down Among the Dead Men

its own sorcery, and it wasn’t a healthy magic. In all the time he’d been with Hammer, Jack had never seen him draw the sword. Deep down, he hoped he never would. Hammer’s hand fell away from the sword hilt, and Jack relaxed a little.
    “Wilde,” said Hammer slowly, “when you see the witch, kill her. Magic-users are always unpredictable, and we can’t afford to take any chances. Jack and I will take care of the other Rangers.”
    Wilde nodded silently. Jack started to say something and then stopped himself. He remembered the witch. She was young and very pretty. But he didn’t owe her anything, and he did owe Hammer.
    But not for always, Hammer. Not for always
.
    He waited patiently at the edge of the clearing while Hammer put out the camp fire, and Wilde checked over his bow and arrows with surprisingly gentle fingers. Jack sat down on a handy tree stump and let his mind drift while he waited. As it had so many times recently, it took him back to the trap from which Hammer had rescued him.
    It had been a simple trap, as traps go. Jack had been following deer tracks when he suddenly heard a clatter of disturbed birds nearby. He immediately froze in place, his rags blending him into the dappled shadows. Something must have frightened the birds for them to react so sharply, and Jack hadn’t survived nine years alone in the Forest by ignoring warning signs. After a while he eased silently through the trees in the direction the sound had come from, and ended up crouching motionless at the edge of a small clearing. A man was sitting on a tree stump in the middle of the glade, with his back to Jack. He wore a guard’s uniform, and a hand ax leaned against the stump by his boot. Jack stayed where he was for some time, watching and waiting, but the guard didn’t move. There was no sign of anyone else, so far. Jack frowned. They must be searching for him again. Maybe the price on his head had gone up. If so, the odds were the guard wasn’t in the Forest on his own. He’d better get out of here while he still could.
    And yet there was something odd about that guard. Very odd. He still hadn’t moved a muscle, despite all the time Jack had spent watching him. His head was bent forward; maybe he was sleeping. Or ill. Or even dead. Jack scowled. He didn’t like the direction his thoughts were leading him, but he couldn’t ignore it. There weren’t many predators in this part of the Forest that would take on an armed man, but there were always the wolves… .
    Jack bit his lower lip and frowned indecisively. Approaching an armed guard in an open clearing was not something to be undertaken lightly, but if there was a man killer loose in the Forest, he wanted to know about it. And anyway, he was curious. He smiled and shook his head. One of these days his curiosity was going to get him into trouble.
    He stole silently out of the trees and into the clearing, looking quickly about him, ready to turn and run at the first sign of danger. Everything seemed normal. The sun shone down from a cloudless sky, and the air was pleasantly warm. Insects buzzed drowsily on the still air, and birds sang undisturbed in the trees. The clearing was empty apart from the guard, who still hadn’t moved. Jack drew the knife from his sleeve, just to be on the safe side, and crept forward one step at a time, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on the guard’s back. He’d almost reached the seated figure when the ground suddenly gave way beneath his feet, and he fell into the concealed pit below.
    He fell awkwardly and landed on the packed earth at the bottom of the pit with an impact that knocked all the breath out of him. He lay still for a time, gasping for air and then groaning quietly as the immediate pain
    died slowly away. After a while his breathing steadied, and he was able to think coherently again. He tried cautiously to move his arms and legs, and a wave of relief swept through him when they all responded normally. A broken limb would have meant his death, even if he had managed to escape from the pit. Staying alive in the Forest wasn’t easy at the best of times, and the woods knew nothing of mercy. Jack sat up slowly, wincing at his various cuts and bruises. He looked at the circle of light above him, and saw he’d fallen a good nine or ten feet. He’d been lucky; he could have broken his neck. He scrambled to his feet and stood still, listening carefully. He couldn’t hear anything. Whoever had set the trap might not be