They walked in silence, leading their horses as two going to their doom. Every step was heavy and slow with the mare’s limping. Stealth wasn’t an option. They stepped into the shelter of the first tree just as the sun peaked over the horizon. Anna peered into the gloom of tangled branches and vegetation. They rested at the entrance. A cold breeze licked Anna’s neck. She shivered.
“We need to head northwest, toward the mountain,” Jack said.
Anna saw the snowcapped mountain rising above them in its splendor. Even in summer these mountains were high and cold. “We won’t be going over the mountain?”
“Not that one, but the smaller mountain pass we’ll head through will be bad enough, I’m afraid. If we run into trouble, we both swing up on Avery and leave the mare.”
Anna nodded, fear pinching her throat. Her nerves were stretched so tight her hands shook. She glanced up at the branches high overhead, which formed a tangled interweaving canopy. At first Anna struggled to find a path large enough for Star to pass easily through, but as the trees grew larger, the undergrowth thinned. The mare’s ears flickered forward and back, searching for a sound. She would often stop and drop her head, and Anna had to tug her along. How soon until Star stops for good? After a few miles, the deciduous trees gave way to mostly pine, and now their footsteps padded on soft moss and pine needles, as little or no underbrush grew under the towering evergreens.
Anna was a little more hopeful after they had traveled for several hours with no trouble, though they had to stop often to rest Star. Anna examined the horse during their next stop. Her leg was swollen and hot. Her eyes met Jack’s. They were thinking the same thing. They might have to put the mare down. Just the thought made Anna’s eyes tear up. She’d been such a good horse. She stroked her silky neck. Such is the lot of the horse. Born, trained, used and discarded by humans. She knew a quick death by the sword would be better than dying of her wounds or by animals. Anna put her hand on the horse’s chest, checking for a fever. She did not feel overly warm, but how could she know?
Just as they were beginning to start again something rustled. There were no leaves in this forest and no underbrush to hide in. A branch moved overhead. Star and Avery’s heads shot up, and their eyes widened until she could see the whites at the edges. Anna scanned the ground and trees. She saw no deer, rabbits, birds or squirrels. She glanced at Jack. He had his bow out.
“Draw your sword,” Jack whispered.
Anna stepped back to the saddle and pulled out the sword, its sharpened blade dull in the gloom. Her knuckles turned white from her tight grip. Every muscle in her body was tense. Blood pounded in her ears. Something was out there.
All was quiet again, so they cautiously moved forward. Anna took her next step and gasped as something fell on her. She glanced down at what hit her, and it seemed to be some kind of heavy bag. Anna held her sword in front of her as more and more fell. The horses jumped as Jack shot arrows into the trees. It was no use. The bags were falling from the sky. Anna fought the desire to run. It was too late, anyway, now small men were jumping on them from the trees. Their capes stretched out under their arms and helped them glide to the earth. Anna’s stomach dropped. No wonder people thought these woods were haunted.
Jack and Anna were at one second startled and fighting and the next subdued by five, ten, fifteen, now perhaps thirty men. They tackled Jack, ripping his bow and arrows from his back and his sword from his hand. His dagger landed in the thigh of one man and the only thing stopping him from slitting another’s throat was Anna’s scream.
A man held her sword to her throat. Two more bound her hands.
Jack dropped his knife and the small men forced Jack to his feet with his hands bound as well. They pushed at him with primitive spears and spoke harshly in a dialect Anna barely understood. Jack started walking, calling out to her as he went.
“Are you all right, Anna?”
“Yes, I’m here,” she answered, trying to be brave. Her legs were heavy as lead.
“Qui-A!” one of the men shouted at her through yellow, gaping teeth. They all had a similar appearance—pale-skinned and short, not taller than Anna, but incredibly strong. The animal skins draped around their shoulders carried a pungent odor. Their brown beards came to their chests and knotted with brown, dirty hair. They slumped as they walked, with hands almost skimming the ground.
One poked her with the blunt end of a spear, and she started moving. Some of the men led the horses behind. Anna forced herself not to think about what was going to happen to them. At least she knew why people never return from the forest. It was better than ghosts. But not a lot better.
After about twenty minutes, the men drove them up a steep, rocky, moss-covered bank. She found it difficult to keep her balance with her hands tied behind her and fell several times with her shoulder hitting the hard ground. The men pulled her up roughly each time, finally hauling her up by the back of her shirt.
She saw Jack try to stop to wait for her, but they struck him in the face. He stumbled on.
At last they arrived at a small village—or at least where these strange people seemed to live. Small huts scattered the ground, made with pine trees, needles and some kind of plaster. The men shoved Jack and Anna to the ground in front of the largest hut.
Anna trembled as she wondered what death awaited them. What kind of monster would emerge from this hut?
The door creaked open. Anna kept her eyes down. She couldn’t look.
“Unbind them, for goodness sakes!”
Anna glanced up and saw a tall old man clothed in a scarlet robe.
The men slashed their ropes.
Anna rubbed her aching arms. Jack glanced her way. Immediately the tall man helped Anna to her feet and offered Jack a hand as well. “I’m quite sorry for your treatment,” he said with weary eyes. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get through to them. They think they have the right to kill whoever walks in this forest without their permission. At least they brought you to me rather than striking you with their poison darts.” Anna’s face flushed as adrenaline slowly left her body. She shifted her weight.
“Why have you come here?” he asked Jack. “Surely you know the reputation of these woods.”
“We are on an urgent mission, sir,” Jack answered. “Wolves injured our horse, and the only way to complete our mission was to take a shortcut through this forest. Please forgive our intrusion.” Jack bowed his head before the man.
The corners of the old man’s eyes crinkled. “There is nothing to forgive. Come into my humble home and rest.” He motioned to the hut. “I’ll see that the men give your horses excellent care. These people may seem primitive, but they are extremely advanced in the art of herbs and healing. They may be able to help your horse.”
Would they help them or eat them?
Jack and Anna stayed where they were for a moment and exchanged worried glances. They didn’t seem to have a choice. But even now he was examining Star and motioning to the men who ran to get supplies for the horse. He nodded at Jack.
Jack put his hand on her waist and leaned toward her ear. “Keep close to me, but I don’t think we have anything to fear,” he whispered.
Anna wasn’t so sure. Those men seemed hardly human.
Her body tensed as she ducked in the small, dark, quiet house. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. Jack was so close he bumped into her when she stopped on the other side of the threshold. She leaned back into him. A rich, earthy pine scent filled her nose. She exhaled. The floors were wooden, but the walls were made of mud, packed in between long tree trunks. Anna touched the wall with one finger. It was surprisingly smooth.
The older man came in behind them and motioned for them to sit at the table. He returned with bread and cheese. Anna withdrew her hand from the wall.
“The people here live in these huts,” said the man as he nodded to the wall. “I simply had to add a floor. I grew tired of cold, bare earth.” He set the food on the table and put a pot of water
over the fireplace for tea. He returned with wet cloths to wipe their hands and faces.
“I am Nicholas,” he said. “I am happy to be of help to you on your journey. And you are?”
“John William.” Jack hesitated for a moment. “And this is a slave girl I rescued from a harsh master over the desert. Her name is Anna.”
Anna clenched her bottom lip between her teeth as she heard Jack call her a slave girl. She wanted to correct him, but thought it best to trust him for the moment.
The man’s bushy eyebrows went up. “A slave girl? Hmm—it was a noble deed.” He looked at Anna thoughtfully. “Please, have some food, humble though it may be.”
He pulled out a chair for her. Anna wondered if she were in a dream. The man didn’t fit with those people outside. She took a slice of bread and a piece of soft, white cheese. He offered honey. This is heaven, thought Anna as she sunk her teeth into the bread. Something so simple had never tasted so good.
“How did you end up here with these people?” Jack asked, not hesitating to dig in as well.
“Good sir, I am a servant of the Most High. I felt impressed to tell others of the one true God, that they might not serve evil, especially the lesser gods,” answered the man.
“So you chose these people?” Jack asked.
“No, and I probably would not have on my own. In a way, they chose me. One day, on a journey, I fell into circumstances not unlike your own. My horse had been injured. I found refuge in these trees, and by some mercy of the Most High the woodsman did not harm me.”
“The woodsman?” Jack asked.
The man shrugged. “That’s what I call them. I believe they are from a tribe of Caritni who entered these woods generations ago. Separate from all other society, they kept to the ancient ways of living. They hunt and gather food. They are experts with herbal medicine, as well as poison. I’ve introduced goats to them for milk and cheese. I’ve also tried to help them understand the concept of farming, but it’s not going well.”
“So they took you in?” Jack asked.
Anna nibbled as the conversation went on. The crust of the bread was tough, but the inside was fluffy and the cheese was smooth. She kept quiet as she knew too well that slave girls didn’t speak unless spoken to.
“Yes. Like I said, by some miracle they fed me, cared for my horse and sent me on my way. I don’t know if they thought I was perhaps a god. I promised to return some day and repay their kindness. One day I did return, and I have stayed ever since. I want to help these people understand the love of the Most High. It’s what He wants me to do, here at the end of my days.”
Jack tilted his head to the side and nodded to him. “I would say yours is the noble deed, sir.”
“Thank you, young man. But you come to me with such a troubled heart.”
Jack frowned. “Why would you say that?”
“I have the gift of discernment, my son,” Nicholas said, standing and placing his hand on Jack’s shoulder. The teakettle whistled, and the old priest brought cups. The warm liquid cheered Anna considerably. Something about the priest relaxed her. It wasn’t ordinary tea. It was infused with something rich and a little spicy. “It’s no accident you are here.”
Anna couldn’t contain herself. “How do you mean?” she asked.
“Whatever your errand, it must be important for you to risk these woods. And whoever you are, someone, I’d say perhaps the Most High, has protected you. No travelers make it in this far alive.”
“I see,” Anna said.
His kind eyes bored into hers. “Now,” he continued. “You might as well tell me the truth. I have no quarrel with anyone and no one to tell your secrets to.”
Jack sat in pale stillness.
Anna didn’t know what to say. The priest folded his hands in his lap and dipped his chin patiently.
“Well,” she began. Jack shrugged. “First, I am not a slave girl.” It felt good to say that.
“But, she was a slave in Kasdod—”
The priest held up his hand. “Let her tell the story. I’m sure I will understand the details.”
Anna started at the beginning. “I am the daughter of King Vilipp of Sunderland.” She glanced at the man, who nodded and motioned for her to continue. She told him her story from racing Farley, brushing over the details of why Seamus disliked her so much. When she told him of the wolves, the priest rose and paced before the fire, rubbing his chin.
“You said they were large?”
“Yes, huge. Not half as large as my horse, but close.”
“Hmm.” He nodded to Jack. “And you didn’t lie, either, son. She was a slave in Kasdod.”
Jack shrugged.
The old priest took an ember from the fire and lit an oil lamp. Anna realized it was early evening. “You must be tired,” Nicholas said. “I’ll check on your horses. Why don’t you stretch out before the fire?”
He left the room, returning with a thick wool blanket which he folded on the floor. Anna realized how tired she was when she saw the thick blanket.
“It’s not much for a princess, but it’s what I have to offer.”
“Oh, I couldn’t. I will go with you to check on Star.” She stood.
“As you wish, Your Highness.”
Late evening shadows waved across the path to the barn as the trees above swayed in the breeze. Anna was glad for Jack’s presence and stepped close to him as they walked. She felt the eyes of those woodsmen on them. He placed his hand in the small of her back. She leaned into it.
The barn door creaked open, and the priest lit a lamp. Goats bleated as they stepped over the door into the soft earth.
Star and Avery were together in a large stall where two woodsmen soaked Star’s wound with a tea-like substance. The smell was light and potent all at once, perhaps basil or mint mixed with a deep, woody, musky smell. Star’s head was down, but she flicked her ears toward Anna.
Anna pulled Star’s nose to her chest. She rested her chin against the horse’s forehead and whispered words of comfort.
“Can you help her?” she asked.
“These remedies are old. They work well to prevent infection, but your mare is already sick.” He held the lamp closer to inspect the wound. He opened Star’s mouth and pressed her gum to see if the gums remained white or refilled with blood. He then pinched her skin. It did not snap back.
“What do you think?”
“She’s sick. She needs medicine, water and time to rest.”
“We don’t have much time,” Jack said.
“I understand.” The priest frowned. He placed his left hand on the top of her neck and his right on her hind end above the wound. “I will pray.”
His arms stretched over the horse. The words he spoke were beautiful and sorrowful in a language Anna had never heard. They pierced her heart, and she didn’t know whether to laugh at her fear or weep in gratefulness. The air swirled with confident boldness.
The woodsman fell to their knees. Star leaned into her, and Anna rested her head between her ears. Power moved through the stall, but not like the power she felt while locked in Anwar’s closet. This was a rush of peace and provision, not terror.
The horse exhaled a great groan and seemed to fall asleep on her feet. The priest finished and stroked her neck.
“We will let her rest.”
“Thank you,” Anna whispered, her voice full of emotion. She blinked back tears. She couldn’t bear to see the little horse put down. Hopefully he had saved her.
She gave Star one final stroke before they made their way back to the hut.
Anna gratefully sank onto the thick blanket by the fire. The day’s events had her head spinning as she drifted off into a nap. She woke to the delicious aroma of something bubbling over the fire. She sat up and spotted Jack dozing in the chair next to the fire. The old priest was stirring a large pot.
“Hungry?” he asked.
Just the thought of something warm made Anna’s stomach growl. She nodded gratefully as he poured three
bowls. She gently shook Jack awake and smiled as their eyes met. He was usually the one waking her up.
After eating, Nicolas poured them fresh cups of tea and sat down across the table. “I suppose I should have been expecting you.” His voice shook.
“Oh?” said Jack.
“You know, it’s always easier to believe in a miracle when it is happening to someone else,” he said to himself.
Anna shot Jack a puzzled look.
“I’ll try to explain. I had a dream two nights ago—more like a vision.”
“Go on,” Jack said.
“In it, I saw a young man and a maiden come through my door, needing help. The girl carried a sword and shield with a bow slung over her back. She rode a different horse, not the little mare. It was huge, wild and black as night.”
Anna felt the blood drain out of her face. Jack scrunched his brow in concentration.
“And you think the girl in the vision was Anna?” Jack asked.
“Yes. I don’t pretend to understand everything, but as much as an unseen hand is harassing you, I believe another is working to keep you safe. Believe in that, and you will make it home.”
He rose from the table and shuffled to his small bedroom. He returned carrying a sword, shield and a bow with a set of red-gold arrows. Anna’s heart quickened.
“These are the weapons I saw in my dream, Anna. You were wielding them.”
He laid them on the table and stepped back. Anna glanced down and gasped.
“They’re set with jewels of power? Aren’t they evil?”
The priest’s eyes lit up and crinkled in the corners. Anna saw the cause of all those laugh lines as his old skin pulled up into yet another smile. He sat down again.
“They were my great-grandfather’s weapons, passed on from father to son for three generations. He used them in Sunderland before the edict making them illegal, and as I no longer live there, it didn’t bother me to hold onto them as keepsakes.” He stopped for a moment. “Now it is my turn to pass them on. I have no offspring. They were meant for you.”
“But how can I take these home?”
Gems of Fire: A Young Adult Fantasy Page 13
