Deniably Dead (Arucadi Series Book 4)

by E. Rose Sabin

  Even a bed with rusted springs and a saggy mattress offered more comfort than the rough wooden floor where they’d found pleasure in each other this afternoon. This evening’s activities left the mattress sagging even more and put considerable strain on the rusted springs. After a long, delightful evening, Lore fell into deep, restful slumber without another thought of Camsen or of Kyla.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  HIDE AND SEEK

  Renni had spent a restless night after a late-night argument with Camsen. Convinced that Lore had to be dead, Camsen had declared his plan to leave Pescatil in the morning to head for Hillcross, arguing that Zauna would have a much harder time finding transportation to Pescatil than to Hillcross. Renni had countered by pointing out that if they waited here for her, Zauna could bring supplies they’d need for their journey. She argued further that those people who had seen the young man whose horse had been taken and butchered gave a description that, to Renni at least, sounded very like Lore. If Lore had been killed, wouldn’t someone had known and shared that fact? That no one knew or at least admitted knowing what had happened to him convinced Renni that he must be alive and hiding somewhere, perhaps in fear for his life. Camsen argued that in that case, Lore would have mindsent a plea for help.

  “What if he’s lost his power?” she’d asked, reminding Camsen that Zauna’s crystal ball had shown Lore crashing headlong into a thick branch and then being thrown from his exhausted horse. At that point they had good reason to fear him dead, but the reports of people in Pescatil revived their hope that he lived and had arrived here before them. No one who’d witnessed his encounter with Abner and his cronies reported anything to indicate that their victim had fought back using any unusual abilities, but while to Camsen that indicated that the young man in question could not have been Lore, to Renni it indicated that Lore had lost the use of his power.

  “You know that can happen temporarily when a gifted person suffers a serious injury,” she told Camsen. “Look at Thornbridge. He lost his power after Dark Star struck and stomped on him. He’s just now getting it back.”

  “Yes, and the first power to return to him was his ability to mindsend,” Camsen pointed out. “If Lore had ridden into town on a horse, he should have recovered enough to have sent us at least a short mental alert.”

  “Don’t you think it’s too much of a coincidence that a young man fitting Lore’s general description should have shown up here around the time we were all supposed to meet here?” she’d fired back.

  “A coincidence certainly,” he’d conceded. “Too much of one? Not necessarily.”

  “Well, I think Lore is here, and I’m not going to leave here until I’ve hunted through the whole town,” she’d vowed “I’ll go door to door if I have to.” With that, she’d taken her bedroll and left Camsen to sleep in the wagon alone, while she went to the barn to sleep beside Dark Star’s stall, answering Camsen’s objection with, “He’s in more danger of being stolen than Kyla is.”

  Now as she saddled Dark Star, the horse seemed as restless and eager for action as she was. Dark Star tossed his head and snorted impatiently. “Don’t fuss,” she told the horse. “I’m going as fast as I can. At least you’ve had breakfast, and I’m heading out on an empty stomach, so you have no reason to complain.”

  The horse swished his tail as if to say, “So what? Let’s go!”

  In complete agreement with that sentiment, she swung up into the saddle and headed toward town. She had no particular destination in mind. She did mean to avoid the house where Jac Thornbridge was staying, as she had no desire to get into an argument with him over the ownership of the horse she considered hers.

  She knew Camsen would think her reckless for going into town alone and weaponless, but such was her confidence in Dark Star that she felt no need for other protection. And indeed, as she rode down dusty streets past houses no longer untenanted, she received curious looks from early risers, but no one tried to stop her. She passed the park with its statue of Vito without bothering to look to see whether its sculptor was about. Though she had no idea where to start her search for Lore, she felt quite certain she wouldn’t find him in the town square, ready to serve as another sacrifice to the dog god. She didn’t doubt that Chon Iston had been permanently deterred from that sort of activity. Passing a row of what had been shops and probably soon would be again now that their owners had returned, she headed toward an area of small houses whose dilapidated state reflected a neglect that probably preceded their eight years of emptiness.

  She passed yards where chickens wandered free, pecking at the ground in search of bugs or scattering in a flurry of feathers at Dark Star’s unexpected passage. Seeing a woman out peering into bushes, gathering eggs from concealed nests, she considered trying to gather some to take back to Mistress Carran for their breakfast. The chickens had probably been on their own for the past eight years. Probably anyone who caught and confined them could now claim ownership. Many of them would probably end up in the stew pot, but some would be left to provide eggs.

  The more she thought about eggs, the hungrier she became. She had no money with her, and nothing to barter. If she wanted eggs, she’d have to find her own. As she proceeded along the same road, she continued to spot foraging chickens, both roosters and hens, and other folks out chasing after them or gathering eggs. She reached the end of the street, and it was then that she noticed a young red-headed woman moving furtively through back yards and empty fields, clutching a cloth bag into which she thrust an egg she’d just retrieved. She looked around, saw Renni watching her, and moved quickly off in the opposite direction to the one in which she’d been heading.

  Interesting. Renni didn’t care whether she’d been trespassing, but something in the girl’s manner made her curious. She looked in the direction toward which the girl had originally headed and spotted a ramshackle structure set off by itself and mostly concealed by trees and a high growth of weeds and shrubs. She brought Dark Star to a halt and considered. If the chickens and their eggs were free for the taking, as they seemed to be for now, why was the redhead sneaking around? No one else had made any effort to hide their egg gathering. Some had paused their hunt to wave cheerily to her as she rode by. From all that she’d gathered yesterday in conversation with Race and Dulcie Thornbridge, the animals that had survived on their own for eight years could only be claimed by former owners who could offer some definite proof of ownership. Barring that, the animals—goats, chickens, the occasional pig—were to be considered communal property to be shared by all. It had seemed that most of the citizens were aware of and in agreement with that decision, but it was possible that a very few hadn’t gotten the word, and this young woman was one of those few.

  That might also mean that when she and Camsen had made their inquiries about Lore, this young woman had not been among those who’d shared information. She could follow the woman, but chasing after her on horseback would almost certainly alarm her. Instead, acting on impulse, Renni headed directly across the field to the structure she suspected to have been the girl’s intended destination.

  She reached the place, dismounted, and after tying Dark Star to a nearby tree, found the front door, and pounded on it. No one answered, but she thought she heard someone moving around inside. She fought her way through the high weeds and untrimmed shrubs to peer in through a window. Through the dirty glass she made out a figure moving around. It came closer, then retreated and passed out of sight into another room.

  She recognized that build, that walk. Lore! Had he recognized her?

  She returned to the door and pounded on it again. This time she heard him shout, “Maya?”

  Definitely Lore’s voice. “Lore? It’s Renni. Open the door.”

  “The door’s locked,” an answering shout came after an interval of several moments. “I’m locked in.”

  “Then stand back. I’ll get you out.” Renni ran to Dark Star, mounted, and took Dark Star back far enough to give him room to run, then race
d him toward the door, bringing him up short just in front of it and using her power to make him rear and slam his hoofs against the door, just as he had slammed them against Thornbridge. The door put up a bit more resistance than Thornbridge had, but the result was the same. The door fell inward, and the horse rode over it, Renni ducking low to clear the doorway as they clopped into the room.

  “Lore?” she called, slipping down off Dark Star.

  He came slowly through the door of an adjoining room. “You found me,” he stated unnecessarily and with a strange air of trepidation.

  “What’s the matter with you? Why were you locked in, and why haven’t you let us know where you were?”

  “Uh, I couldn’t. Not until yesterday. My power’s been gone.”

  “So it came back yesterday? And when were you planning to put it to use? Tomorrow? Next week?”

  “No, no. I was just waiting for Maya—this is her house. She’s bringing food. As soon as I ate, I would have—”

  “As soon as you ate! But your power came back yesterday? So what have you been doing since then?”

  His face reddened, giving her all the answer she needed. “You idiot! You’ve been screwing some woman you barely know, while we’ve been worrying about you, risking our lives trying to find you, and Camsen’s convinced you’re dead and is ready to leave here without you.”

  “Wh-what about Kyla? I tried to find her, but—”

  “Is that how you ended up here? Trying to find her?” She wanted so badly to slap him she had to ball her hands into tight fists, digging her nails into her palms. “We have Kyla. She’s back in her coffin. And we know exactly where Zauna is. But you, you—” she broke off, unable to think in her rage of a suitable epithet.

  A scream and a shout of “What is that horse doing in my house?” alerted Renni to the return of the home’s owner. The second alert came from the egg that crashed onto her head, spattering into her hair. Wiping egg yolk off her face, she glared at the red-haired woman who stalked into the room, the woman she’d spotted gathering eggs.

  The woman held another egg in her hand, ready to throw, until Lore held out his hands. “Stop, Maya. She’s a friend. My friends have been hunting for me.”

  “Well, it seems they’ve found you. But I just see a woman and a horse. And why,” she glared at Renni, “why did you bust down my door and bring that horse in here?”

  “Because Lore said he was locked in and didn’t have the key.”

  Now she bestowed her glare on Lore. “Yes, that door was locked, and he didn’t have a key. But the back door wasn’t locked. Why’d you tell her you was locked in? I left it unlocked so you could go use the outhouse. You knew that.” She turned to Renni and repeated, “He knew that. I wasn’t keeping him a prisoner. I saved his life. He tell you that? Abner Rushland and his cronies beat him up real bad and left him unconscious and tied to a tree. I got him untied and dragged him here so they wouldn’t come back and finish him off. How about that? He tell you any o’that?”

  “I—she never gave me a chance. I would’ve told her.”

  Ignoring the appeal in Lore’s voice, Renni said, “No. He didn’t tell me how he got here. But if he was nearly dead, how is that he looks so healthy now? And are those eggs for the breakfast he was waiting to eat before he contacted us to let us know he was alive? You running a boarding house here? Or a brothel?”

  The girl’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not running nothing. I saved his life. Believe what you want. I’ve been gettin’ along on my own for years now, since those fanatics killed almost ever’body in town. And all of a sudden, all the people that was dead have come back, and I don’t know how that happened, but I been stayin’ out of their way.”

  “You mean you aren’t one of the ones that came back?” Lore asked in what sounded to Renni like genuine surprise.

  “No. I been here all the time. Right here in this house. I know it don’t look like much, but it’s mine. And now you’ve gone and bashed in my door and I’ve got a horse in my front room.”

  “I’ll take him outside, and I’ll find someone to fix your door,” Renni said. “But if you’ve been here since the killing, how did you escape?”

  “Simple. I never went to that supposed picnic. I never believed that dog brought rain, and I sure never worshipped it as a god like ever’body else did. And still do. That’s why I stay out of their way. I wouldn’t’ve helped any of them, but I saw Lore was a stranger. I knew he came in on a horse and they got it and killed it. So I figgered he wasn’t no dog worshipper. So soon’s it got dark I sneaked to the tree and untied him and dragged him here. Watched him all night to see if he’d live or die. When he was still alive in the morning I dumped water on him and got him woke up. Yes, I locked up the house when I went out to hunt up some food, but that was to keep him hidden and safe. For all I knew, Abner and the others would be hunting him to finish him off. But today, seein’ how he was doin’ so well, I left the back door unlocked.”

  “I’ll take Dark Star outside.” Renni grabbed the horse’s halter, swung him around, and led him out of the house, pleased to see that the horse had not left any deposits on the floor. She couldn’t decide how much, if any, of the girl’s story she believed, but she couldn’t help feeling some sympathy for Maya—and none at all for Lore.

  While she settled the horse, she sent a mental call to Camsen, announcing that she’d found Lore. It occurred to her to suggest that Camsen send Vic to repair the door Dark Star had obligingly kicked in. Vic was a good, hard worker and could certainly be trusted to keep quiet about Maya’s presence here. She sent directions for finding the place, but saved Lore’s story and her thoughts about it for later.

  She returned to the house and told Maya she’d arranged for Vic to come and repair the door.

  “Voiceless Vic, the sculptor’s man?” Maya smiled. “Good idea. He sure won’t say nothin’ about seeing me here.”

  “But don’t the other people who weren’t killed and have been here all the time know that you’ve been living here?”

  “No. There aren’t that many. Some of the ones that didn’t go to the picnic on account of bein’ sick or crippled have died. Others, like the sculptor, were away. I don’t know where he was, but I know of a couple o’ men that were out on a hunting trip. They come back and found their wives dead and all they wanted to do was go after those killers and get revenge. They did take their guns and try to track ’em down, but they didn’t have no luck, and so they came back mad as hornets and ready to hurt anybody as got in their way. So I stayed well away from them. The sculptor, he spent all his time gatherin’ up the pieces of his precious statue and he run off ever’body that came near the square, fearin’ they’d take some of the stones as keepsakes. An’ while he was workin’ on puttin’ the thing back together, he wouldn’t tolerate anybody botherin’ him. So the town wasn’t a good place to be. An’ after seein’ what they did to Lore, I don’t think it’s any better now with the dead come back to life.” She paused to shake her head and take a deep breath, then added, “I’ll tell you, missy, I’d leave this place in a minute if I had anywheres to go and anyway to get there.”

  “Maybe—”

  Suspecting what Lore was starting to say, Renni sent a sharp mental No! that stopped him from going further. However Maya got out of this town, it was not going to be in the wagon with them. Already, with the addition of Vic, that wagon would be crowded. And the last thing they needed was one more mouth to feed.

  If anything, Renni thought it would be a good idea if they left Lore here. Let him keep Maya company in this sorry-looking house. He seemed happy enough here with her. Why not let Vic take his place? Maybe, she told herself, the Power-Giver had sent Vic to them for just that purpose.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHANGE OF PLANS

  In Renni’s absence, Camsen first mindsent to Zauna, hoping she’d have something to report. She sent back, saying she had tried to find Lore in her crystal ball, but she saw nothing but swirling mist.
Whatever that meant, it did not necessarily indicate that Lore was dead. Death, she told him, would be represented by blackness.

  Unconvinced of that assertion and restless, Camsen decided to walk into town to see how Thornbridge was getting along. Strangely, he missed the former bandit leader and the son Thornbridge now seemed proud to acknowledge. He still hoped to set off for Hillcross later in the day, but Renni was a stubborn woman, and she wasn’t likely to abandon the search for Lore until she’d done a thorough search of the town and surrounding area. That would take considerable time and most likely prove futile, but when Renni set her mind on doing something, there was no deterring her.

  He’d accepted in his own mind that Lore had met a sad fate, either dying as a result of his fall in the forest or having been murdered and buried here in Pescatil. In that latter case, while Camsen would have liked to find the killers and see them punished, he would have to leave the administration of justice to the newly established town government: its mayor and town council.

  In a way they were better off having Vic as a substitute for Lore. The mute was a hard worker and better than Lore with horses, which was a good thing, as Jeppy had begged to remain here along with Thornbridge, and Renni had already declared her intention to ride beside the wagon on Dark Star, so they needed another driver.

  Camsen found the Thornbridges and other council members busy compiling a list of the total citizenry by families and previous occupations and trying to figure the assets and needs of each. The next step and the most difficult would be how to share assets and meet the needs. The efforts to make long empty houses livable once more were underway but hindered by lack of building materials. Food supply was of course the top priority. The surviving animals had to be rounded up and redistributed. Hunting and fishing parties had to be sent out. Winter was coming, and fields had to be cleared for planting rye and winter wheat, with grains growing wild harvested. The few people like Anya Carran and George Botts, who’d been left behind, had gotten by for the past eight years by growing vegetables, nurturing fruit trees, and raiding abandoned stores for staples such as flour, sugar, salt, and spices. Now they’d be expected to share with their returned neighbors. Anya had done a great deal of canning and preserving and had shared what she had with George and others. She had goats she’d kept penned as pets, providers of milk but never to be butchered. She’d be allowed to keep them as such so long as she was willing to share the milk as well as the eggs from the chickens she had in a fenced area.