by Drae Box
The squeaking of a hanging gaslamp by the side door caught Aldora’s focus. It hadn’t been lit yet but it would need to be soon, if they wanted to keep an eye on her. She tried to wiggle her fingers, hoping there might be air pockets between them, but they were stuck in the substance too. Aldora nipped at the inside of her right cheek. There’s no way out of this stuff but they’ll have to take me out of it when they try to trade me, or if they’re going to ditch the carriage and the horses. One of the Rivermuds stood up, taking a lighter from his back pocket and lighting the gaslamp. He sat back down, his grey eyes attentively watching Aldora as he folded his arms. If I can’t escape this blood-gift snot of theirs, the best thing is probably to rest. Gather more energy. Half expecting them to smack her face, Aldora closed her eyes. Nobody touched her. She tried to relax, some of her body forced to stay tense, from how she was sitting when they slimed her. I’ll just rest my eyes and try to rest my mind.
The men had quietened eventually, leaving Aldora alone to her thoughts, which had rushed at her. Like Haethowine, and the villagers Richard had hopefully freed. Why Raneth couldn’t chase after Jules himself right now, and how she, the daggerless Dagger Bearer, would have to save herself. Every thought that struck her, every question she wondered, made her heart thud in her chest. She looked up at the four men. The one she had thought was the youngest stood out from the others because he had more stubble. Looking at them, she observed that they had similar expressions, and as she watched them talking about the Giften-Southern Border, she spotted two faces that they all pulled; their eyes widened and their teeth flashed as they smiled, their speed of conversation rushed, overlapping the words of their siblings. Something about the border wall between Giften Kingdom and Southern Kingdom had them excited. She closed her eyes again and rested her chin on her chest. Her eyes felt gritty now and her cheekbones ached. She needed to sleep. But I can’t. Not yet. She forced herself to remember Haethowine clawing at his throat as he tried to breathe, and that warded off the urge to sleep, if only for a little longer. The carriage was slowing down, the chinking of the horses’ harnesses was becoming less repetitive. We’re stopping.
Aldora barely opened her eyes, choosing to see through the film of her eyelashes, hoping the Rivermuds would think she was asleep. They won’t kill me yet, she promised herself. They want to use me against Raneth. I’m safe. At least for now. As long as if I do try to escape, I don’t botch it up. One of the Rivermuds stood up and pressed a hand to the hardened case of mucus around her. It cracked and fell apart at his touch. As it gave way behind her back, Aldora loosened her body, letting herself slump to the ground. He picked her up and carried her out of the carriage on a shoulder. Stay loose. Don’t let him feel you tense.
He dumped her on the ground and a grunt escaped Aldora’s lips before she could clench her jaw shut. The ruse already broken, Aldora opened her eyes and sat up, resisting the urge to grumble at her captors. Nothing’s stopping me from running, she thought, rubbing her arms in an attempt to warm them up. The four Rivermud brothers stood in a semi-circle around her and watched her closely. A hint of the oncoming dawn allowed Aldora to see where they were but, like most of Giften, it was just grassland. Nothing spectacular. No, wait. She frowned, turning her head, listening. There’s water nearby. She stood up, wincing as her leg muscles protested at the movement, still sleepy from being confined in place. “Where are we?” she asked, as Jules Rivermud stepped down from the driver’s seat and joined them, stopping in the space his sons had left at her side. They didn’t answer her but glanced at one another, grinning. Aldora cast her attention past them, listening again for the source of the water’s rumble. Did they take me near Green City? Outside the capital, multiple streams and rivers fed into the kingdom’s main waterway, Trading River. She turned slowly on the spot, shivering. It was cold. Too cold. She couldn’t hear any extra whispers of water, which meant there was only one river near them. It was somewhere in front of the carriage, further up. We must be near a part of Trading. I need a better look. She moved towards the carriage, but Jules’ calloused hand grabbed the back of her neck and clutched it so tightly that Aldora was surprised her neck didn’t pop.
“Where are you going?” he asked, his ruff voice softer than she expected.
“To check on the horses,” she lied, not daring to move.
He let go of her and Aldora refused to rub at her neck. I won’t let him see he hurt me. She knew her neck was likely already showing a red imprint of his hand, but Raneth would never let a criminal see he was afraid. It would put him in danger if he did... If I do. She glared at Jules over her shoulder instead, then strode past the carriage and to the two horses. Major and Nadia heard her coming, their soft ears twitching to listen to her approach along their side. “Hi, sweeties,” she uttered, greeting them in the same way that she greeted all her father’s horses. She made sure to step where the horses could see her before she let Major sniff her hand hopefully. She rubbed the bridge of his brown nose before her other hand went to Nadia’s white but scarred nose, the mistreatment from her previous owners still visible despite the love and affection Aldora and Isadore gave her.
Both horses’ breath was harsh, white foam clung to the edges of their bits, staining down their cheeks, and as Aldora looked down at their knees, she spotted their strong but thin legs trembling. They needed to be free of the harnesses before they gave up standing and hurt themselves further. The horses were her allies, whether the Rivermuds knew it or not. They’d listen to her, and, if she could free them, there was a chance they would also follow her without coaxing. They associated her with gentle handling and affection, food too. She leaned sideways, looking past the carriage and towards the Rivermuds. They were setting a fire, or rather, two of them were whilst the other three watched. Looking towards where the carriage was facing, Aldora had to squint her eyes to better see what was ahead. A wooden bridge. Tricolq Bridge. The largest bridge in Giften, the wide bridge curved over Trading River, giving easy access to Tricolq City for everyone travelling towards Aldora’s village. I could run to Tricolq and hide. She looked to the eldest Rivermud, Raneth’s assigned criminal. “We need to rest the horses.”
“They’re not ours. We won’t need them for much longer.” Jules beckoned for her to return.
I could run, thought Aldora, before she spotted the Dagger of Protection at his waist. But if I leave the Dagger in his hands, there’s no telling what he could do with it. She thought of Raneth and her heart thudded hard, letting her know exactly what she thought Jules would do if he found Raneth whilst he still had it. Maybe I should ask Raneth out after this. If Cray would just stop working him so hard, he’d have time. Going after Jules may have been about helping Raneth from the start, but she hadn’t realised that it was because he was more than a friend to her, even if they weren’t dating. She fancied Raneth. Wanted him to be her royal official. Just like how most in the village referred to him. She took a steadying breath but her gut flipped. I have to get the Dagger off Rivermud. She took steady steps back to the family of criminals.
She thought of the days after she had found the Dagger and saved her village with Raneth’s help. After the congratulations and general pestering had stopped and the village repairs had drawn attention finally away from her, Aldora had made sure to get more familiar with Giften’s geography. Tricolq City should be to the east of my village and on the same side of Trading River, north of Tricolq Bridge. Once the sunrise is fully on its way, I should be able to get a clearer look. She’d never been in the city but had heard rumours it was the third worst city for crime. When I snatch the Dagger, I’ll have to make sure to lose them fast. They might know the streets there. She drew to a stop beside Jules, on the same side as the Dagger. She tried not to look at it, trying not to let them know what she was planning. “So, how will Raneth find out that you have me?” she asked curiously.
The sons were sitting down, the crude suggestion of a fire crackling between them, but Jules remained standing so Al
dora did likewise. “Your villagers will demand the king sends him to find you. The celebrity royal official for the celebrity Dagger Bearer,” he said, voice crackling with disgust at the very idea they were celebrities in Giften. Jules motioned for her to sit down. “We made sure plenty of your villagers saw. So far, my sons’ plan is working.”
“Hmm.” She lunged at him, hands grabbing for the Dagger of Protection. Jules shifted to the side, twisting, a hand lowering to the Dagger. Aldora smacked it away and grabbed hold of its grip. She yanked it free even as strong hands clamped down onto her shoulders and squeezed hard. She didn’t slow. She couldn’t. She swiped the Dagger’s split blade at Jules Rivermud and he leapt back, all thought of grabbing the Dagger gone from his mind. His hand rose, the palm facing towards her. No, you don’t! She screamed, thinking of the black lips and glistening teeth of a fox. Her gift shrieked out of her mouth, the yap of a fox flinging Jules Rivermud back. But she still had the strong hands on her shoulders, and the other three brothers were coming at her with their hands raised.
Jules crashed to his back. “We need her alive!”
Aldora hissed through her teeth as one of the brothers grabbed her wrist, squeezing so hard it felt like the bones in her wrist would break and mash together. With his other hand, he wrestled the Dagger of Protection from her hold and stepped back, looking at his father.
One of the other brothers drew closer, the forgotten scarf in his pocket. “Hold her head back,” he ordered, looking at the one with the Dagger.
“And let this get near her again? No thanks.” The brother wiggled the Dagger of Protection, then held it out towards their father. “Here, Dad.”
Aldora watched as Jules took the Dagger back before he slowly drew closer to her. She clenched her jaw shut as one of the brothers pulled her head back by her hair, but they kept tugging her head back until she had to open her mouth. The tough hands on her shoulders slipped to her waist, his head at the side of hers. The one with the scarf ripped it in two and shoved one half into Aldora’s mouth. Mentally, Aldora swore, but could do nothing as one of the other brothers grabbed her hands and yanked them together, giving the one holding the remains of the scarf ample opportunity to bind her wrists. Her eyes hot with tears, Aldora looked at Jules as the brothers stepped back from her. She warily backed away from Jules, but his smile grew with each step she took, his own more confident, each stride longer than hers.
He grabbed her bound hands. “So you can’t try that again.” A burning pain exploded in her side, her leg trembling as the Dagger was yanked free. “Just be glad I didn’t twist.”
“Dad, won’t that kill her?” asked the youngest of the sons.
Aldora collapsed to her knees, all thoughts of escape fleeing her mind as she looked at her side. Blood was spreading fast across her clothes, like poppy petals that kept growing larger and larger.
“Not if you gum up her works, Harry,” stated Jules, gesturing at her.
The young Rivermud pressed a hand roughly to Aldora’s side. She screamed, muffled by the make-do gag. She couldn’t think, couldn’t see. He stopped touching her and the pain ebbed away to a constant sharp stab of pain, repeating its torment with each beat of her heart. She swallowed, a sob making her nostrils flare as she sucked in air.
“Now, Dagger Bearer, listen carefully.” Jules knelt on one knee in front of her, the Dagger resting against the knee that didn’t press to the earth. Aldora looked at it, watching her blood dripping off the sharp edges of the blade. “You won’t try that again because the longer it takes us to get somewhere safe, the more likely that’ll get infected.” He nodded at her side. “And you’ll die. Don’t want your guardian angel to loathe himself for being too slow now, do you?”
She narrowed her eyes. He’ll kill you first, she thought.
He stood up. “We’re sleeping here tonight. Tomorrow we head to Keepaldell Town. Got some friends there that can help us hide you, girl.”
I can’t let them get me there, especially not in their control, but I might have a chance to escape if they take me through Tricolq to get there. Aldora clenched her eyes shut, trembling as she felt the heat of her wound and the cool touch of the evening. But I’m no Bayre. She didn’t know much of what Thane Frey and his assigned criminals had done to Raneth over the years, but she’d seen the scars on his torso when he had trained in the garden with her, parrying blows and helping her improve her ability to fight with gentle feedback. He wouldn’t be on his knees, holding back tears like she was. But he’s a soldier too, don’t forget. A law enforcing soldier. The scarf in her mouth tasted like stale perfume as she breathed in, almost choking her from its bitter scent. She didn’t know what to do now. Not now they’d stabbed her, bound her, gagged her and held the Dagger. What would Raneth do? She struggled to think clearly, to come up with even half of an answer.
Her breathing hard and sharp, Aldora didn’t notice at first what she was hearing that she shouldn’t be. Raneth? No. It can’t be. She looked past the carriage and horses. Tricolq City Bridge was becoming easier to see as the sun wrangled itself free from the night’s claws. The gentle thud, thud, thud across the bridge wasn’t Raneth. He wouldn’t give his position away so obviously. Quickly, Aldora glanced at the Rivermuds, spotting that one of the brothers was looking towards the bridge, a frown creeping across his face. Aldora looked back at the bridge, watching the silhouette of a man getting slowly larger. He’s too big to be Raneth. Shorter than Raneth, the man’s muscles would have put most men’s to shame.
“Who’s that?” murmured the Rivermud looking at the man too.
Turning to the rest of the Rivermuds, Aldora watched as each looked to the brother before following his gaze.
“Who’s who?” asked Jules, returning his gaze to his son.
Aldora looked at the son with a matching frown, before she inspected the bridge. It was empty. Where’d he go? She spun her gaze to the other Rivermud that had seen the man.
He looked back at her, then the bridge, then his father. “There was somebody on the bridge.”
“Bayre?” asked Jules.
“I don’t think he’d come at us in his human body,” stated another of the sons.
“Hush, Simon,” instructed Jules, climbing to his feet, his knees clicking. “Shai, it was probably just a deer. Sunrise’s light is playing tricks on you.”
Aldora focused on the bridge. There’s no way that was a deer. It was definitely a person. She checked on the Rivermud that had seen the person too. Shai. He looked back at her, as if he were asking her if she had seen the man too. I’m not helping you. She glowered at him, and then turned to look at the bridge but her attention froze on another spot. Much nearer this time. Drigoe. He must have used his gift of materialisation to get closer to check out who we are! He was laying beyond Jules Rivermud, his muscular body pressed to the earth, but his eyes were pinned on Aldora. He frowned at her, his head ever so slightly tilting. Aldora looked away, her heart thumping twice as fast, jabbing renewed throbs of pain into her wound. Why is he here? Does that mean Thane Frey’s here? She looked back at Drigoe but he was gone. Where’s he gone now?
A gentle hand touched her shoulder, and she looked up. It was Drigoe. The second she blinked he was gone.
“What? Where’s Simon?” Aldora looked at the Rivermud called Harry. He was standing up, eyes wide as he wrestled to draw a sword from his belt, not that he needed it. Drigoe materialised behind him, appearing as if he had always been there, then vanished, Harry disappearing with him.
Jules, Shai and the other Rivermud Aldora didn’t know the name of rushed to their feet. Jules had his hands splayed out. As if that’ll help you, thought Aldora, rolling her eyes. Unlike the criminals, she didn’t bother getting up. If Drigoe wanted to do her harm, he wouldn’t have touched her and then taken Harry instead. For some reason, he was helping her. Bayre-Frey Feud? theorised Aldora as Drigoe reappeared, snatching the one whose name she didn’t know. Thane had been too curious about her and Raneth’s relations
hip last year. Raneth had explained it was because of the Feud, elaborating only further during one of the nights where he had managed to come to her house for tea. Non-blood-gifted people that got involved with blood-gifted Bayres were vital to the Feud as far as the Frey were concerned, otherwise they would run out of Bayres to hunt.
It was less than a minute before Drigoe stood in front of Aldora, and there were no more Rivermuds in sight. He approached, giving her a smile, before he knelt down and pulled the scarf from her mouth and hands. “Better?” he asked.
Aldora frowned. “What do you care?” She tried to stand, but clenched her teeth as her wound jabbed her with pain. She pressed a hand to it and stayed on the ground.
The Frey Follower reached behind his back and as he drew his hand back into view, Aldora’s focus clamped onto the bloodied blade of the Dagger of Protection. He’d pilfered it from Jules. “I think this is supposed to be with you.” He held it out between them, his warm breath pattering against her cheeks.
