Forest Kingdom Trilogy 3 - Down Among the Dead Men

around. With just a little luck he could climb out of the pit and be gone before they came back. Jack searched the sides of the pit for hand-and footholds, and then cursed disgustedly. The walls were nothing but loose earth that crumbled away under his fingers. There was no way it could support his weight while he climbed.
    Jack looked up at the bright circle of light. Nine or ten feet, and it might as well be nine or ten miles. He had no more hope of climbing out of the pit than he had of flying out. He tried anyway, just to be cussed, but it did no good. He retrieved the knife he’d dropped in his fall, and tried cutting handholds in the walls, but it was no use. He put the knife back in his sleeve, sat down on the bottom of the pit, and waited for his captors to show up. There was always the chance they wouldn’t kill him straightaway. They might decide to take him to the nearest town for an official hanging, and that meant chances to escape, if he kept his wits about him. Jack smiled sadly. It was a nice thought, but that was all. He’d escaped too many times in the past for them to take any chances. If they had any sense at all, they’d just shoot an arrow into him while he was still in the pit, and then take in his head for the reward.
    Jack leaned back against the earth wall and looked up at the sky. It was bright and clear and very blue. He was in his Forest. There were worse ways to die.
    The light above him was suddenly blocked by a man’s head and shoulders. Jack scrambled to his feet and reached for his knife. There was no real point in trying to dodge an arrow, but he’d go out fighting anyway, just to spite them. He was Scarecrow Jack.
    “Hello, down there,” said a man’s voice.
    “Hello, yourself,” said Jack. His voice wanted to shake, but he wouldn’t let it.
    “Looks like you’re in a spot of bother,” said the man.
    “Looks that way.”
    “I take it you’re Scarecrow Jack?”
    “Depends.”
    The man laughed easily. “Lucky for you I come along. I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t go away.”
    He disappeared, and Jack’s spirits rose cautiously. Maybe he had got lucky after all. The man returned and threw down a coil of rope. Jack tugged on it a few times to be sure it would take his weight, and then climbed up the rope and out of the pit. He moved quickly away from the edge and stared warily at his rescuer. The man was clearly a soldier of some kind by his stance and his clothes and the sword on his hip, but he wore no insignia of rank or loyalty. He was a big man with an amiable enough face, but Jack’s eyes were drawn to the long sword hilt that stood up behind the man’s left shoulder. Even from a few feet away Jack could feel the power that lay dormant in the sword, waiting to be called into action. Jack began to wonder if he might not have been safer in the pit after all.
    “Thanks,” he said carefully. “You might just have saved my life.”
    “Could be,” said the man. “How did you end up in a stupid trap like that?”
    Jack shrugged. “I always was too curious for my own good.” He looked around at the guard sitting on the tree stump, and wasn’t surprised to see he was still sitting there, apparently uninterested in what was happening behind him. Jack walked over to the motionless figure and looked him in the face. It was a dummy—convincing enough from a distance, but still just a dummy. Jack laughed in spite of himself.
    “Set a scarecrow to catch a Scarecrow. Neat. Almost elegant. And it would have worked, if you hadn’t come along. My thanks.”
    “I want more than that,” said the man calmly.
    Jack looked at him warily, his right hand drifting casually toward the knife in his sleeve.
    “Don’t,” said the man. “Don’t even think about it. You wouldn’t want me to draw my sword, would you?”
    “No,” said Jack. “I wouldn’t.”
    “My name is Jonathon Hammer. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be dead. You owe me your life, Scarecrow Jack. I’ll accept a few months’ service from you in payment for your debt. Is that acceptable?”
    Jack thought about the pit, and Hammer’s sword, and nodded slowly. “Yes. For the next two months, I’m your man.”
    “Good. I’d heard you were an honorable man, in your way. Do what I tell you, when I tell you, and we’ll get along fine. You might even get rich. But if you should ever consider betraying me …”
    “My word is good,” said Jack coldly. “I don’t break it. Ever.”
    “Yes,”