Hunted

by Paul Eslinger

  “And you do?” Ara asked with a hint of sarcasm.

  “Not at all,” I said, trying to force cheer into my words. “But I have two friends who are starting to learn how to do magic. We can work it out if we stick together.”

  We soon reached the larger road and turned upriver. Workmen hadn’t smoothed the lane as much as the King’s Road, but the terrain wasn’t as steep, so it was easier walking.

  The sun was sliding toward the western mountains when Ara spotted smoke from cooking fires at the next village. She pointed along the road. “We have to stop at a market in town.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “I want to get potatoes, onions, carrots, and even a loaf of bread. Using magic makes me hungry and I want to make stew when we stop tonight.” She glanced over at us with a sly smile. “I assume you mighty hunters can find a rabbit or quail so we can add meat.”

  Running magical scans checking for problems had almost become a habit. I had checked for other travelers several times since we had started up the road. There hadn’t been any travelers, and I had brushed over the people in the village without studying them. One mind stood out like a beacon when I took a longer look.

  “We can stop at the market,” I said, “but we need to be careful.”

  Trey glanced at me and grumbled, “Of course, we’ll be careful.”

  “No, no,” I replied hastily. “There’s one person, a man, in the village who is a bundle of harsh emotions. He’s mad right now, and he enjoys putting down other people or causing them pain. He’s like a fire, ready to flare up.”

  Ara asked, “Does he have a name?”

  I flung up my hands, feeling frustrated. “I don’t know his name. I can only sense emotions, not specific thoughts.”

  The man’s emotions flared and waned three times before we were close enough to see buildings among the small fields. Cedar trees dominated other trees on the hillsides and the houses and barns used cedar log walls and shingle roofs. No roadside sign welcomed us, but a small carved sign with words Camelon Market hung over the open door to the largest building.

  Trey gestured at the rough wood bench on the porch. “I’ll stay out here with the bows and packs.”

  Ara swung her pack off her shoulders without any hesitation and half tossed it to Trey. “Thanks,” she said and turned toward the door.

  I made another short check for problems while I was unhooking my pack and wasn’t pleased with what I found. I spoke quickly, and silently, to both Trey and Ara, “Be careful, the angry man is inside.”

  Even though Ara didn’t answer, she stopped one step short of the door and glanced back at me. Merriment danced in her eyes. “Are you coming?”

  “Right with you,” I replied, and set my pack and bow next to where Trey sat on the bench.

  It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the dim light once we were inside. Thin oiled leather covered two windows. It let in enough light to navigate through the boxes and shelves, and none of the candles or lanterns placed in strategic places were lit. The room was similar to the last market we had visited, so I decided to watch people rather than examine the merchandise.

  Other than Ara and I, there was only one woman in sight. Low voices, one of them from an irritated-sounding man, came through a smaller door in the back of the room.

  Ara stepped closer to the woman who was studying a small pile of onions and asked, “Do they taste good?”

  The woman answered without looking up. “They’re last year’s crop and most of them have started to sprout. We have plenty of green onions, but I wanted white ones.”

  Ara pricked up two onions, studied them, and put one back. “That one is soft.”

  “Some of them are,” the woman replied, and then finally looked at Ara. She had long brown hair, an ordinary face, and large reddened hands that looked like they had seen a lot of work. Her eyebrows bunched together as she spoke again, “You’re new here.”

  “Just traveling upriver,” Ara said breezily.

  “Not many people travel these days.”

  “Hmm,” Ara replied and reached for another onion. “Why not?”

  I didn’t hear the woman’s reply, if she gave one, because the small interior door swung open so quickly it smashed into the wall. A short, thin man with a full grey beard and a bald head stepped into the room and looked around with an angry scowl.

  He strode over and stood behind a counter, darting looks at me in between glares at Ara and the woman. His long fingernails made clicking noises as he tapped his fingers on the countertop.

  The woman glanced at the new arrival. Her expression indicated she knew and disliked the man. “Oberon, do you have any carrots?”

  He harrumphed, and his abrasive reply made my blood boil even though he directed the words at the woman. “I didn’t have any last week and I won’t have any for another month when the new crop starts.”

  I felt uncomfortable listening to the verbal exchange and wanted to edge for the door, but I couldn’t leave Ara alone.

  Spots of color blossomed on the woman’s cheeks. “Testy today, are we?” she asked.

  Oberon leaned forward over the counter, the knuckles of both fists resting on the bare wood top. “Keep a civil tongue in your head, Loretta. Or, I’ll…”

  Loretta carefully placed the onion she was holding back on the pile and turned to face the angry man. She placed her hands on her hips and glared back at him, not cowed by his words. “Do what, Oberon? Beat me like you did your wife or your poor niece who doesn’t have anywhere else to live? It’s easy to see why Samantha left you and went to the big city.”

  The man’s face turned red with rage and he started to move around the end of the counter. Finally, he glanced at me.

  Unsure what to do, I decided I would only interfere if he started a physical assault. I was a lot bigger than he was. I cocked my head sideways and raised both hands slightly with my palms facing outwards.

  Oberon straightened and put his clenched fists on the counter top, but he stopped his advance toward Loretta. “Are you going to buy the onions?” he rasped.

  “Not today,” she replied with a false sweetness and took a step toward the door. The sleeve of her blouse snagged on a small basket containing potatoes. Even though she stopped quickly and swung back around, the basket slid across the rough shelf and crashed to the floor.

  Loretta clapped both hands over her mouth and whispered between her fingers, “I’m sorry.” She snatched the basket up and placed it back on the shelf. Just as quickly, she started picking up potatoes and placing them back in the basket.

  “Just leave them, you blundering cow!” Oberon shouted, his face even redder than before. He pointed at the door with a shaking finger and his voice grew louder, “Get out before I really get mad!”

  Loretta dropped one more potato in the basket and scurried toward the door. Even though she had taunted the man, she seemed to know when he crossed the line to unreasoning responses.

  Ara glanced at me after Loretta vanished through the door. Scavenging food for another night sounded better than dealing with this bundle of angry emotions. I cocked my head towards the door.

  Oberon shouted again before we moved, “Ramona!”

  A girl’s voice replied instantly, “Coming.” Moments later, a black-haired girl darted through the small door. She looked like the same age, or a little younger, than Ara, and she was even thinner.

  “Clean up the floor,” Oberon grated, gesturing to where the potatoes lay.

  The girl glanced at Ara and me before she bent to the task of picking up the potatoes. Oberon saw the look and boomed out, “Quit wasting time.”

  Ara walked around the crude shelves toward where I was still standing in a small open area near the door. We both looked back as Oberon stepped out from behind the counter and walked toward where Ramona was picking up the last f
ew potatoes.

  I took Ara’s arm and started to turn toward the outside door when Ramona looked up at the approaching man. Pure terror crossed her face and it was still there when she glanced at us again. She jumped to her feet, dropped two potatoes in the basket, and stood stiffly. “All done,” she said.

  “Humph,” Oberon growled deep in his throat and looked at the floor around his feet. His eyes widened and he stabbed a suddenly rigid finger at the girl. “You missed one,” he shouted.

  “Sorry,” Ramona yelped and dove for the floor. She picked up the potato and placed it quickly with the others in the basket.

  Oberon’s face went white and his eyes blazed. His voice came out in a shrill scream, “You can’t do anything right.” He raised his hand, which had been out of sight behind some shelves, holding a long switch. Without saying anything else, he slashed the switch across the girl’s shoulders.

  “Reuben!” Ara screeched so loudly it hurt my ears.

  The girl screamed and whirled around to run. Oberon caught the back of her blouse and held her as he brought the switch around in another slash.

  I reacted rather than trying to think. Oberon flew backward under my magical shove and slammed into another shelf. The switch stopped in midair without touching the girl. However, I had miscalculated and Oberon yanked the girl from her feet before his grip on her blouse loosened.

  Ara rushed to where the girl was laying and babbled, “Are you okay?”

  I ignored the girls and turned to where Oberon lay. He rolled over, pushed merchandise away, and rose on his hands and knees. He looked up at me with hatred in his face. “What did you do?” he shouted.

  “Men don’t beat girls,” I rasped, feeling anger and irritation growing stronger.

  “I’ll do what I want,” he snarled and rose to his feet holding the handle of a frying pan. He stood there with it raised by his shoulder, but he didn’t lash out.

  The angle allowed me to see the door and Oberon at the same time. Ara and Ramona were nearing the door and Ara had her arm around the other girl’s shoulder. Trey’s face appeared in the door followed by his hand holding his hunting knife. His voice was concerned, “Do you need help, Reuben?”

  “No,” I replied and studied Oberon more closely. His eyes narrowed and he seemed ready to lash out. With that kind of advance notice, he couldn’t hurt me, so I relaxed while still staying focused. “Don’t do it,” I told Oberon.

  “I’ll…” he rasped and moved one foot slightly.

  Father had helped me understand balance and the proper way to stand to avoid an opponent, and Oberon was getting ready to charge. The bizarre thought that the evening meal was going to be different than we had planned flashed through my mind, followed as quickly with a new thought. Immediately, I directed the magic to heat the handle of the pan.

  Moments later, Oberon yelped in pain and dropped the pan. He clutched his left hand around his right wrist and looked at the red spot on his palm. He raised his eyes to my face, and for the first time since I had seen him, reason seemed to live in his eyes. “What did you do?”

  By this time, Trey was standing beside me, still holding the knife. It was nice to have a friend beside me, so I smiled widely at Oberon. “I protected Ramona and then myself when you decided to attack.” I waved my hand at the door behind the counter. “I suggest you leave before you get hurt.”

  To my surprise, Oberon edged toward the door, never taking his eyes off of Trey and me. Finally, he stopped with one foot just through the door. His face contorted with rage again and his voice regained the shrill overtones. “Take that bitch of a girl with you. I’ll kill her if I ever see her again!”

  He disappeared when I took one step forward and raised a clenched fist.

  Trey touched my shoulder as I stood, looking at the small door. “Let him go, Reuben. We need to keep moving.”

  Ara was sitting on the bench with her arm around Ramona when Trey and I came outside. She gestured toward the inside of the store. “I heard what that ogre said at the end. We can’t leave Ramona here.”

  “Maybe she can stay with that other woman, Loretta,” I suggested.

  Ramona shivered and spoke without looking up. “No. Oberon would find me if I stayed here.”

  “Is he your uncle?” Trey asked. “I heard what that other woman said.”

  Ramona nodded and whispered. “Yes. Mother and Father are dead. Mother’s sister, Samantha, ran away a few weeks ago because Oberon beat her. She said she would send me a message when she found a place to live in Falkirk, but she didn’t.”

  “What do we do?” I asked, uncomfortable with the situation. I had decided to travel alone, and then Trey had joined me after the Hunter murdered his parents. Ara joined our group and now we had ended up with another orphan, another waif.

  “She goes with us,” Ara said.

  Trey nodded, “I agree.”

  “Argh,” I said. “Without anything? No clothes? No supplies?”

  Ramona stood straight. “I was already planning to leave. I have a small pack hidden behind the barn.”

  “Okay,” I said and then beckoned at Ramona with a crooked finger. “Do you have a bruise where he hit you with the switch?”

  She shook her head violently. “No. He hit me in the past and I learned how to not get hurt.”

  I cocked one eyebrow and asked more softly, “You used magic?”

  The question seemed to frighten her even more than Oberon’s attack. Finally, she whispered, “Yes,” without raising her eyes from the porch floor.

  “Good,” I said with a chuckle. “You’ll fit right in.”

  Chapter 34 – The Pig’s Ear Tavern

  Four days later, we passed through Larbert in the middle of the morning. Trey and I were walking together and Ara and Ramona walked behind us, talking to each other like long-lost sisters. Ramona had been quiet most of the first two days but had slowly warmed up when she learned she wasn’t an outcast because she could protect herself with magic.

  The woman in Camelon had been right with her comment about very few travelers. We only met two, and they had both volunteered the information that they were walking to the next village to visit relatives.

  “We should find the pile of rocks that looks like a pig before long,” I muttered to Trey. I was anxious to finish the trip, but not that anxious to meet my grandfather.

  “We need to start looking for it,” he agreed, speaking quietly. He continued using magical speak, “It may not be that hard to find. Sorcha explicitly said granite.”

  “Yeah, she did,” I agreed with a frown, unsure why he wanted to speak secretly. “Does that make a difference?”

  “It does around here,” he replied with a sweep of his hands. “The rock in the hills has changed from granite down near Falkirk to brown like half of the rock over by Glendale. It should be easy to see.”

  When we reached the proper place, the small pile of granite was obvious. Ara chuckled, and pointed to the top rock that was about shoulder height on her. “It does look like a pig.”

  “Have you ever been here?” I asked Ramona when she seemed less impressed by the rocks than the rest of us.

  She nodded and pointed up the river. “There are two more small villages on this side of the tall mountains. I was born in the second one, a town called Carronshore.”

  “Oh,” I said, storing away the information like I had learned to store knowledge about magic. I had started to think I could trust Ramona, but I would still check. Trey had told me not to trust anything a new person said, but he seemed to believe everything the new girl told us.

  I pointed up the wide game trail that crossed the road and also led down toward the river. “Have you ever been up that way?”

  “No,” Ramona said with a shudder. “A few people live up that way but they don’t welcome uninvited visitors.”

  Trey starte
d to say something but stopped when I held up my hand. I turned back to Ramona and studied her face. Maybe it was a girl thing, but I found it hard to read her expressions. Right now, anxiety dominated her emotions. I pointed up the trail again. “Do you know the name of anyone living up that way?”

  “No one talks much about them,” Ramona answered.

  “But you listen when they talk,” Trey prompted.

  Ramona shrugged. “Yes, I listen. People sometimes whisper two names.”

  “What names?” Ara prompted when Ramona didn’t continue.

  Ramona waved her hands and gave a nervous giggle. “A man named Demarcus and a woman named Sorcha.”

  “Thanks,” I said and headed up the game trail.

  The others followed, and I heard Ramona ask Ara, “Do someone invite you to make a visit?”

  “Yes,” Ara replied and then changed the subject. Apparently, she wasn’t yet ready to divulge a number of things to Ramona.

  “How far to the Pig’s Ear Tavern?” I asked Trey when he trotted up beside me.

  “Not far,” he said.

  “How do you know that?”

  He pointed ahead. “We’re getting close to the cliffs, although I think a valley runs behind the first peak. It’s surely on this side of the cliffs.”

  We climbed for half an hour and the game trail leveled out after we switched back so we were facing upriver. The cedar trees gave way to immense oaks interspersed among firs. Finally, we reached a region where the trail wound between cultivated fields.

  Trey glanced across the fields. “Carrots, cabbage, potatoes, onions, beans, and corn. Does everyone eat the same thing?”

  “Why are you asking?”

  “I’m hungry,” he replied.

  “So am I,” I said and then looked at my wrists. We had eaten well for nearly three weeks. All of us were still thin, but none of us had the emaciated look of a month earlier.