“It does. Although…”
“Although what?”
“He did fail, Shireen. As hard as that is to believe, he did. They could have executed him.”
“That’s completely wrong, Orlando! And you know it!”
“Okay, okay,” he said, returning to the bed. “Come on though. We need to get some sleep. And if you’re not tired anymore, come on back to bed anyway. If I have to be up in the middle of the night, it may as well be for a good reason.”
He smiled at her, adding in a lascivious wink at the end. It looked so ridiculous that Shireen laughed in spite of herself.
“You’re an ass, you know that?” she said as she slipped into bed next to him and snuggled against his body.
“I know. But I’m your ass, and you love me anyway.”
“Not that I can figure out why.”
They fell silent, both gazing into the darkness. Despite his words, Orlando didn’t try to entice her into lovemaking. He simply lay with his arm around her, letting her pillow her head on his chest.
“Do you think he’s okay,” he finally said, quietly.
“I hope so,” she responded. “But I can’t imagine being exiled from the Greenweald. How would you survive without going mad?”
“I don’t know. I’d rather have been killed, but I think Jediah pushed for exile, hoping that at some point he could get him back.”
“Maybe. But that doesn’t seem likely.”
“No,” he agreed. “It doesn’t. But who knows? Let’s try to get back to sleep. Or we’ll both be falling off our horses tomorrow.”
When the dawn finally came, Shireen had been awake for the rest of the night, and was pretty sure that Orlando had been too.
Solomon’s exile was still the talk of the barracks at the Towering Oaks compound. All around the massive complex, rumor and speculation swirled. Everyone had an opinion, from the archers practicing at the butts, to the swordsmen sparring in the yard. Even the officers that Shireen and Orlando passed in the command building were talking quietly about it, growing silent as the two walked by.
As scouts, they were often in the command building, walking through its live-grown hallways to report their findings to their superiors, or to get new orders. At times, their scouting missions involved coming close to the other Houses, so they were always given their orders deep in the building, away from any prying eyes of Glitter Birch, or Whispering Pines. The other minor Houses were of no real consequence, but those two had extensive networks of spies and infiltrators, who could even be here.
Today’s orders weren’t so clandestine, however. There was nothing that involved the other Houses. Instead, they were to ride to edge of the Greenweald, far to the north, to the border they shared with the realm of the Hairy Men. It was a long assignment, and one that they would need to take a couple of hours to prepare for. They would have to take weapons, of course, but also gear to live in the wild for a few days. That long a journey would take them out of the shaped lands of the Greenweald and into virgin territory.
Shireen looked forward to the trip, and knew that despite his grumbling, so did Orlando. They had been partners as scouts before they ever became lovers, and the chance to get away from the constant rumors and reminders of Solomon was welcome.
Solomon had been their commander for several years, as he was to a lot of the scouts. He had served Towering Oaks in a variety of roles over the years, and had excelled at them all. He was one of the most adept swordsmen the House had ever produced, was an expert archer and was able to read signs in the wilderness with an ease that no other scout had ever possessed. She had also heard that he was an insightful tactician, and that Jediah had deferred to him in forming battle plans whenever they were needed.
Because of that, some said that Jediah was envious of Solomon’s abilities and fearful of his intentions. But Shireen didn’t believe that for a moment. She was present when Jamshir had passed his judgment, and had seen the look that crossed Jediah’s face. No, she was sure that like everyone else, the head of House Towering Oaks felt nothing but love and respect for Solomon.
She also knew that Orlando felt the same way, even more so. He had grown up with Solomon, the two of them inseparable from the time they were children. During their times on patrols, Orlando had told her of the games they would play, always invented by Solomon, and how exciting and fun they had been. About how Solomon had always stood by him, through their childhood and their adolescence, and into adulthood. Orlando knew that he could never measure up to Solomon’s achievements, but never showed any jealousy. He said he was simply happy for his friend, as Solomon had been when he had found out that she and Orlando were now together.
Yes, being out in the open, with only Orlando around would be good for her. She was in a hurry to begin.
Later, they rode through the woods, their horses picking their way with ease. They were in no hurry, knowing that in spite of the orders to check on the Hairy Men, there was no real danger. The brutes wouldn’t dare to attack the Folk, not after what had happened the last time they had tried. Shireen was sure they must still be recovering even now, years later.
“Glorious!” Orlando said, his voice ringing out through the forest.
Shireen smiled as she looked at him. “What is?”
“This!” he said, sweeping an arm out to indicate the world around them. “Being back on patrol, out in the wild, with no one else around. I’ve missed it.”
“Me too. It’s good to get away for it all.”
Orlando glanced at her with a smile, then looked more closely. His smile faded.
“Still thinking about it, huh?”
“I guess so. I just feel so badly. And…” she trailed off, looking away.
“Yes?”
“Nothing. It’s foolish.”
“Huh, if I kept all my foolish thoughts to myself, we’d live in silence. Come on, out with it.”
“I think we should try to get him back.”
Now there was silence. She glanced over, but Orlando wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he was staring down at the ground, his gaze vacant and unfocused.
“Orlando? Did you hear me?”
He stirred and looked up at her, a sad smile on his face.
“Yes, I heard you.”
“I’m insane, right?”
“No. You’re not. I have to admit, I’ve had the same thoughts.”
“Really? You haven’t said anything.”
“I love Solomon, Shireen. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had, and the best of us all, Towering Oaks or any other House. But to go against Jamshir is suicide. If we’re caught, it won’t be exile, and certainly not together if it was. And as much as I love him, I love you more. I won’t risk that.”
Shireen was touched, and felt the love that she had for Orlando wash over her, and fill her to near bursting.
“I know,” she said. “I don’t want that either. I love my life with you, and don’t want to jeopardize it. But can we really do nothing?”
“No, I don’t think we can. We’ll have to think about it though. It’s not easy to get to where he is. Only a couple of things are made to cross back and forth, like the Hunting Hounds. For us, we’d need help, and who would we go to?”
“That’s one of the problems. I can’t think of anyone. But let’s at least keep it in our minds and we’ll see what we come up with. In the meantime, I’ll try to be better company.”
Orlando grinned. “You’re fine, but if you feel that way, you can make it up to me later, like tonight. But for now, it’s a gorgeous day, and we have a long way to go.”
Two days later they neared the border of the Greenweald. For the last day, they had ridden through the wilds, the areas where the Folk had no influence, or partnerships, with the trees. Nature grew as it would, untended and primal. The different types of trees grew together, competing for space, and spreading their seeds wherever they could. While it was messier, and not as easy to ride though, Shireen found it beautiful too. She e
njoyed being away from the intrigues of the Houses and their constant bickering and jockeying for power.
Shireen had never understood that, the need to raise your House above those of your neighbors. She loved Towering Oaks, and was proud to be a part of it. Proud to be part of the House that shouldered the burden of keeping the Greenweald safe from outside threats, or protecting those from other Houses who weren’t as strong, or chasing down rogue beasts threatening outlying farms or vineyards. That was what she loved, not the sneaking around to check the defenses of another House. Let the crawlers in Whispering Pines do that.
She knew Orlando felt the same way, which was one of the things that initially drew her to him. They had been assigned to patrol together, and you learned a lot about someone, alone in the wilderness with them. Before long, they were sharing both what they hated and loved about being scouts, and not too long after that, a bedroll for the first time.
She was lost in her thoughts, lulled by the sound of the wind rustling in the leaves overhead, when she was brought back to the present by Orlando’s sudden indrawn breath.
“Shireen,” he said, stopping his horse. “Look.”
She stopped hers as well and looked at where Orlando was pointing.
Under a tree a short distance ahead, a Hairy Man was slumped against the trunk. She couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead from there, but the fact remained that one of them had crossed the border, and it needed to be dealt with.
They started their horses forward again, and dismounted near the Hairy Man, drawing their swords as they did. But there was no movement from under the tree, and Shireen was fairly certain that he was already dead.
Shireen had always found the Hairy Men to be revolting, and a little frightening as well. Almost as tall as the Folk, they were much broader, and they were stronger. This one was a perfect example why. Huge muscles bulged in his arms and legs, and across a massive chest that was no longer rising and falling. There was no movement in those black eyes that stared out in death from beneath an overhanging brow. The long, matted hair and beard hung down, and it was that, as well as the hair growing thickly on the rest of his body that gave them their name. At least, that was what the Folk called them. Shireen wasn’t sure what they called themselves.
“We need to back-track,” she said. “Find out where it crossed and if it’s part of a raiding party.”
“Hold on,” Orlando replied. “Let’s take a look fist. Why is he dead?”
“Who knows? Maybe he was sick, or old, or something.”
“I don’t think so…”
Sometimes, Orlando’s meticulousness could drive Shireen crazy. She wanted to be back on the horses, tracking the Hairy Man’s movements and finding out where it had come from. Destroy the threat before it could be one. But Orlando wanted his answers first, forcing her to slow down. She knew he was right. At times of action, she would end up in front, knowing that he was right behind her, protecting her back. But at times like this, he often took the lead, setting the pace.
Orlando looked over the body, crouched down and pulled it forward with a grunt.
“Heavy one…”
He looked at the back of the Hairy Man’s head, but didn’t seem to see anything, and finally sat back on his haunches.
“I don’t get it,” he said. “There aren’t any wounds that I can see. He’s not old, and certainly doesn’t look sick. So why is he dead? And look at his weapons. He’s only got a knife and that old bow. I don’t think he was coming for war. I think he was hunting.”
“Then why is here, rather than on his own side of the border?”
“Don’t know. But you’re right about one thing. We do need to back-track and see where he came from.”
It turned out that tracking the Hairy Man’s progress back to the border a mile or so distant was easier than either of them had thought it would be. And yet harder at the same time.
Beyond the first body they found, there was another. This one was also a strong looking male, only he lay face down on the forest floor, as if he had been cut down while running, yet there were no marks on him either. Then a female, and another, and children. Mothers with young still in their arms, and in one place, a whole family, the male with his arms protectively around the female and the two young, all dead.
“What is going on here?” Shireen said, her heart heavy at the sight of what they had found, Hairy Men or not.
Orlando shook his head.
“I don’t know,” he said. “But they weren’t attacking. They were fleeing.”
“From what?”
Orlando shrugged. There were no signs of struggles or battles. Towering Oaks trained its soldiers and scouts well in the mannerisms and tactics of their enemies, so they both knew that the Hairy Men, while not very intelligent, were fierce fighters, and not easily prone to be driven off. During the last war, all those years ago, they had been defeated almost to the point of being wiped out, before they took to their heels.
To find so many dead, apparently in the act of fleeing was disturbing.
“We need to get back,” Shireen said. “We need to report this.”
“We do,” Orlando agreed. “It’s getting late though. Let’s move off some and find a place to spend the night. Tomorrow, we’ll head back as quick as we can.”
Shireen agreed and the two moved away from the trail of bodies and further from the border.
That night, they built their fire large and kept their weapons close to hand. Every noise of wind or animal seemed a threat, and they kept their backs to the fire, looking out into the darkness. The day had cooled off as they had ridden further north, but it was still a warm summer’s evening.
Until the temperature began to drop, until even close to the fire the two could see their breath. The forest fell silent, and there was a feeling of dread around them. They climbed to their feet, swords in hand, and stood close to each other, peering out into the woods.
But nothing came, and a few minutes later, the suffocating feeling of fear passed on, becoming less and finally disappearing. The night noises returned, and the temperature rose back to a normal level.
“Shireen?” Orlando said. “What was that?”
“I don’t know. But I have a feeling it has something to do with all those bodies.”
“What, like their ghosts or something?”
“No, more like what killed them in the first place. We really need to get back.”
CHAPTER 8
Lacy woke in the hospital, answered Ed’s questions, and slipped in and out of consciousness for the next several hours. She didn’t know how she had gotten there, or what had happened after that thing had grabbed her in the woods. All she remembered was seeing Luke, running after him, and then a coldness that had spread from her arm up through her head. A coldness that had frozen her thoughts and seemed to be there still, making everything fuzzy and hard to concentrate on.
And her arm hurt. It was a slow, throbbing ache that started at her wrist and radiated up, past her elbow and into her bicep. It didn’t matter if she kept it straight, or bent, or twisted to the side, the ache was still there. They had taken x-rays to see if there was a fracture or break, but nothing had shown. The doctor said it was probably a deep tissue bruise, most likely caused when she fell, and should clear itself up over the next several days. He was far more worried about her head.
In truth, so was Lacy. Her arm she could deal with, that was what they made Tylenol for. But her brain…the thought that she might have something wrong there sent chills through the rest of her. Although she guessed that if she was coherent enough to worry about it, then the damage couldn’t be too bad. Could it?
Lacy could tell that Ed didn’t believe her story, which didn’t surprise her. She had known that was going to happen, which is why she didn’t go to him in the first place. Oh, he believed she had seen something, but not that it was Luke, or that she had been attacked by some shapeless, black thing in the woods. Most likely it was a bear, he had told her, and
in the dim light she had seen what she wanted to see. Never mind that she had hit Luke full on with a flashlight beam, or that there were no claw or bite marks on her.
She couldn’t blame Ed though. Not really. She would be skeptical of someone saying they had seen their run-away ex living in the woods also, to say nothing of the ghost story.
But, she was more concerned with Luke, and what had happened to him, than she was about being believed, or about her attacker. For one, she couldn’t really remember the figure very well, and thinking about it made that icy feeling in her brain worse, as if her thoughts shied away from it. And secondly, she still really cared about Luke, in spite of all his crazy and his drinking. Hell, she might as well admit it; she still loved him.
They told her that she must have made it out of the woods and to the road herself, before collapsing where a passing driver had found her. She didn’t remember any of that. One moment, she was in the woods, the next she was here.
Her thoughts kept circling back, over and over, through the same events. The shadow near the compost pile, Luke, the attack, waking here. A never-ending spiral that occupied the times she was awake. And the pain pills they gave her for her arm weren’t helping. They made her feel slightly disconnected, and her arm still hurt.
She wanted to go home, but hadn’t done well enough on a couple of cognitive tests that they gave her, so they wanted to keep her overnight, to make sure she wasn’t going to lapse into a coma or anything, she guessed. She was on the verge of telling them no, and that she was going home, when Ed had come in and convinced her otherwise.
Fine, she’d stay the night, but she was leaving early tomorrow. When she fell asleep later that evening, it was like a switch had been thrown, and she didn’t even remember dreaming.
The next day her head felt a little clearer. She wasn’t sure about the arm. The throbbing may have subsided somewhat, or it could be that she was getting used to it. Either way, the doctor had come in early and cleared her, as long as she promised to call if she started feeling strange again. They told her it would be a couple of hours until the discharge paperwork went through, which was annoying, but at least she would be out of there.
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