Shadow of the Knife

by Jane Fletcher

  “I wanted you to run away last night. Now it’s too late. I’m sorry.”

  Hal pulled back as if to look at her, although the faint moonlight was insufficient to reveal either of their faces. “I wouldn’t have left Maddy.”

  “But—”

  “And it doesn’t matter now.”

  Ellen felt fumbling at her ankle. A metallic snap sounded and the manacle fell away.

  “Are you okay to walk?” Hal asked.

  “Yes.”

  Hal took Ellen’s hands and pulled her to her feet.

  “You’re going to let me escape?”

  “Yes.”

  “Supposing I say I won’t leave you?”

  “Then you’d be a fool. There’s no point us both dying.”

  “But there’s a point to you and your cousin dying together?”

  “If you get to the Rangers, you’ll be safe. My options are I can die here, with my family and friends, or I can try to run away, and get hunted down by the Rangers and die alone.” Hal’s arms wrapped around Ellen. “But I will die just that little bit easier, if I know you’re safe.”

  “Come with me. I’ll tell them you were just a bystander as well, taken prisoner by the gang at the farm.”

  “You’d lie for me? Break your oath about upholding the law, and all that?”

  Ellen paused, weighing it all in her mind. She laid her head on Hal’s shoulder. “Yes.”

  “I’m flattered.” Hal’s lips brushed her neck. “But it wouldn’t work. Terrie Rasheed will get caught some time, and she knows who I am. And we left enough stuff at Broken Hills to hang me.”

  “I could speak for you. Tell them you saved my life. That might count for something.”

  “But not enough to cancel out what I’ve done.”

  “You can’t have done—”

  “Remember I said I took part in the ambush?”

  “Yes.”

  Hal released Ellen from the embrace, then took her hand and led her to the entrance, where the moonlight was stronger, sufficient for untying her wrists. As Hal struggled with the knots, she kept talking.

  “At the ambush, I was on the far side of the river where the trail climbs up, in charge of the group who blocked the road out. I had four Knives with me on the cliffs. We shot the first arrows. Took out the captain and the lieutenant. The rest of the Rangers panicked and ran. I left the others to take care of anyone who might try doubling back and went along to look down on the ford. I saw a group of Rangers were swimming away. But one archer had stayed behind. She was directly below where I was standing, hidden among the rocks and keeping Maddy and her girls back from the riverbank. She was a damned good shot. She’d hit three of us, but she didn’t think to look behind her. I climbed down the cliff. Snuck up on her. She didn’t know I was there until it was too late. I had my sword drawn. She tried to parry with her bow, but I sliced her open.”

  “Her name was Jay Takeda.” The rope on Ellen’s wrist came loose. Her hands dropped to her side.

  “Right. I’m guessing she’s a hero to the Rangers. The one who gave her life to cover her comrades’ escape.”

  “Yes. She is.”

  “Then I’m the woman who killed Jay Takeda. Do you think they’d let me live?”

  “They don’t need to know.”

  “But you know now. Do you think I deserve to live?”

  “I don’t...” Ellen squeezed her eyes shut, trying to fight a way through her thoughts.

  “You don’t have to answer that. And even if I could escape hanging, I won’t run out on my family.”

  “After the fight in the rowboat, when I got hit on the head, you told me nothing was worth dying for.”

  “I told you six sheep weren’t worth dying for. Family is different.” Hal’s lips met Ellen’s in a kiss, tender but brief.

  “I won’t leave you.” Ellen had made up her mind. She did not care whether it made sense or not.

  Hal wrapped Ellen in another hug, nestling her head into Ellen’s neck. After a long pause she spoke again. “You have to go, and quickly. Maddy will be sending someone for you soon.”

  “Why?”

  “I wasn’t able to persuade her there was any other use for you.”

  “She’s going to kill me?”

  “Yes. Maddy is...She...” Hal was clearly searching for words. “She’s changed. She wouldn’t listen to me. Ade has been winding her up, trying to think of the most unpleasant way of killing you. Ade’s got a nasty mind.” Hal stepped back, took hold of Ellen’s hand, and pulled her through the doorway. “The blunt saw would have been fun by comparison.”

  The sky was clear, mottled with stars. Only one moon lit the scene, Hardie in the third quarter, sinking to the west. The smaller orb of Laurel was not due to rise until just before dawn. Nothing was moving, but intermittent shouts came from the main house.

  Hal closed and bolted the door, then urged Ellen off to the left, into the shadow of a barn. Together, they slipped between the patches of darkness, Hal leading the way, past the corral and down to the river, where a scattering of trees and bushes lined the bank. Hal pulled Ellen into the cover of a thicket and then glanced back through the branches. Still nobody was moving in the open and no alarm had been raised.

  “Before it got dark, Maddy sent people out to do some scouting around. We know where the Rangers are.” The moonlight was just strong enough to catch Hal’s ironic smile. “Basically, they’re everywhere. At least a squadron are in position about half a kilometer both ways along the main canyon. We’re pretty sure more are on the other side of the sheep pasture. However, their main camp is up there.” Hal indicated across the river, to the top of the canyon. “The river is easily fordable here. It’s a tricky climb, but quite doable.”

  Ellen flexed her shoulders, feeling them ache. “Maybe in daylight, when you’re fit but—”

  “Believe me. It’ll be safest for you. We’ve put lookouts, in case the Rangers try a surprise attack. If you go along the canyon floor, you might get spotted, and I can’t come with you to distract any Knives. I need to get back before Maddy notices I’m gone.”

  “She’ll still work out you were the one who helped me escape.”

  “Probably.”

  “How will she react?”

  Hal shrugged. “She’ll be pissed off with me again. But that’s nothing unusual.”

  “You’re sure your cousin won’t harm you?”

  “Of course.” However, Hal’s voice did not sound so confident.

  Ellen stepped close and wrapped her arms around Hal. “You’re not sure at all, are you?”

  Hal returned the hug. “Maddy will want me at her side tomorrow. If somehow we’re both alive and free at sunset, then she’ll have time to worry about the pissed-off bit.”

  “There’s not much chance of that, is there?”

  “None. But”—Hal’s arms tightened—“it might not be such a bad thing. I’ve underestimated Ade. Maddy always had a vicious streak, but she’s had it in control. It’s been a tool she’s used. Now it’s turned, so it’s running her. It’s all Ade’s doing, winding Maddy up, and it will destroy the family. Like here, bringing the Rangers on us. I told you I thought the ambush was dangerous. If Maddy doesn’t get stopped here, and she goes looking for revenge, she’ll take the whole family down with her. And from the way she’s talking, I think that’s what she’ll do. Wes and Ozzie are safe in Eastford. They’ll be able to look after things, just as long as nobody stirs up more trouble than they can cope with. I...it’s awful, but for the good of the family, Maddy has to go.”

  “You say that, yet still you want to die with her?”

  “Yes. And it’s why I can’t leave her. I’m selling her out. So I have to stick by Maddy to the end, because I owe her one and it’s the only way I can repay her. We’re family.”

  “I don’t want to leave you.”

  Hal released her hold on Ellen. “You have to, and now.”

  However, Ellen was not yet ready to let go. S
he placed her hand behind Hal’s head and brought their lips together. For a moment Hal stood rigid, but then she softened against Ellen, returning the kiss with growing passion.

  Ellen clung to Hal, trying to memorize every last detail of what it felt like to have Hal’s body in her arms, to have Hal’s mouth molded to hers, Hal’s hands running the length of her back, the peace and the passion, the fulfillment and the longing. Hal overflowed her senses. Ellen knew with total certainty that this was what the Goddess had created her for, the reason she existed.

  The kiss ended. Ellen dropped her head to Hal’s shoulder, but did not relinquish her grip.

  “Hal.”

  “Yes?”

  “I love you.”

  Hal’s body shook. Eventually she found her voice. “I love you. I’ve known it since I rowed you back into town, with you chucking your guts up every five minutes.”

  Ellen laughed—it was either that or scream. “I mean, how could I not love someone who says such romantic things?”

  “I knew Sasha had given you a bad concussion. I could sense the fluid forming under your skull but I didn’t have the talent to get rid of it. I was terrified you were going to die before I could get you to the infirmary—or end up like Aunt Cassie. And when I realized just how much I wanted you to be okay I knew...” Hal’s hand stroked the back of Ellen’s head, pressing Ellen’s face into her neck. “I knew I loved you.”

  Hal raised Ellen’s head and kissed her again, softly and slowly, but eventually she broke away and stepped back. “You really need to go now.”

  “I...” Ellen let her hands fall to her sides.

  She stared at Hal, wondering what else to say, but she could not bring herself to form the word “good-bye,” and no other phrase would fill the emptiness.

  Ellen turned and stepped into the river. The water splashed around at calf height. She was midstream before she noticed how cold it was, and that her feet were wet. Taking her boots off before stepping in would have been a sensible idea, but wet feet were too trivial to worry about, and it was too late to do anything about it anyway—too late for everything.

  The trees grew more densely on the far side of the river, where the gang had not cleared the canyon floor. Ellen pulled herself onto the bank and looked back. Hal had not moved, but now she raised her hand in a gesture of farewell, turned, and headed back toward the homestead. Ellen remained in place watching Hal walk past the corral, the yard, and reach the doorway.

  This is what it feels like when your heart breaks.

  Without looking back, Hal pushed open the door of the main house and disappeared from Ellen’s view.

  *

  Ellen grasped the protruding root and hauled herself up. Tired, bruised muscles screamed their complaint, but her foot found a toehold in a crack and her knee gained purchase on a hollow rock. One more effort, and she was over yet another step on the canyon wall. Ellen rolled clear of the edge, got to her knees and then her feet, and stood, shoulders sagging, regaining her breath.

  Down below, the homestead lay so deceptively peaceful in the weak moonlight. Hal was there. No matter what the outcome of the following day’s battle, Ellen would never hold her hand again, never kiss her again, never spend another night in her arms. Tears blurred the scene. Ellen could almost have given in to the temptation to stop climbing and return, but it was pointless. She turned her back on the homestead.

  The top of the canyon wall was no more than twenty meters above her, forming a dark silhouette against the backdrop of stars. The gradient was easing, as the bedrock changed. The canyons were carved from layered red sandstone. Around Roadsend the tops were densely wooded, but here the upper plateaus were formed from harder stone, covered by only a thin, dry layer of topsoil, insufficient to support trees. Ahead of Ellen, the moonlight-dappled ground was covered by swaths of grass and dover fern, dotted with taller clumps of rock holly.

  Hardie was sinking in the west. In an hour it would have dropped below the horizon, but for now, its light was strong enough to see by—if only Ellen could stop crying. She stumbled forward.

  “Stop right there.” The command rang out from a dark patch of undergrowth.

  Ellen froze.

  “Raise your hands.”

  Once she had obeyed, two sets of footsteps sounded behind her, and then her arms were grabbed and forced behind her back. She felt rope at her wrists. Two more Rangers emerged from cover, drawn swords in their hands. They joined their comrades, surrounding her. The green and gray of their uniforms were faded in the moonlight. Ellen knew her own black uniform would be hard to recognize, even were it not torn and covered in mud and filth.

  The moonlight was just sufficient to pick out the three stripes of a sergeant on the badge of the woman standing directly in front. “Not thinking of running away, were you? Not when we’ve arranged such a fun party for you tomorrow.”

  Ellen shook her head. “I’m not a gang member.”

  “Just an innocent passer-by on a moonlight stroll up the hillside?” The sergeant laughed. “Oh, right then, we’d better let you be getting on your way.” She took firm hold of Ellen’s arm, tight enough to hurt. “Just how stupid do you think we are?”

  “Is Major Kallim here? I need to talk to her.”

  “What about?”

  “I’m Militia Patrolwoman Ellen Mittal. I was being held by the gang, but I’ve escaped. I was working for Major Kallim at Roadsend. She’ll know who I am.”

  The sergeant nodded. “Well, by a mind-boggling coincidence, she was exactly the person we were going to take you to anyway. Come on.”

  With a Ranger holding her other arm, Ellen was marched up the hillside.

  The sergeant’s tone was still skeptical, but the grip on Ellen’s arm had softened. “And don’t take it personally, but we’ll leave your hands tied until Kallim gives us the nod.”

  *

  “Patrolwoman Mittal.”

  Somebody shaking her shoulder woke Ellen. She opened her eyes. The face of the healer hung over her. Ellen was lying in the wagon from the infirmary—some means of transporting away the inevitable wounded was essential and the Knives’ own track would have provided a passable route through the wilderness. In the background, the stars shone undimmed and small Laurel was still low on the horizon. Dawn was an hour away.

  “What?”

  “They’re ready to start the briefing. Are you all right to join them?”

  “Er...yeah.”

  “You feel strong enough?”

  “Yes.”

  In fact, physically, Ellen felt better than she had for days. The Rangers had a competent healer in their retinue, whose paranormal skill had not only removed the pain from Ellen’s injuries, but had already reversed some of the damage and sent her into the deep, dreamless sleep.

  Ellen hoisted herself up onto her elbows. “Where are they?”

  “You’re sure you’re up to it?”

  “I’m fine.” Ellen stripped back the blanket and kicked it aside. Beneath it she was wearing clothes borrowed from the Rangers, her own soiled and torn uniform discarded.

  “You’ve been through a lot, and nobody expects—”

  “Honest. I am perfectly okay for a meeting. Where do I have to go?” Ellen was already getting tired of the way she was being treated like an invalid. And they only saw the marks on her body. The ones that hurt the most were unseen and unacknowledged.

  Ellen was directed to the center of the encampment, where twenty or more Rangers were gathered around a campfire, most with captain’s or lieutenant’s badges on their shoulders.

  Major Kallim greeted Ellen’s arrival. “Patrolwoman Mittal. I’m pleased you could join us. How are you?”

  “I’m fine, thank you, ma’am.” Except that you’re preparing to kill the woman I love.

  Kallim pointed to a spot on the ground. “Come and look here.”

  As Ellen moved around the campfire, the Rangers stepped out of her way. Two put a supportive hand under her arm as she passed, as
if they thought she needed assistance. One patted her shoulder, in a clear gesture of approval.

  When Ellen reached Major Kallim’s side, she saw a patch of ground in the firelight had been cleared. Scratched in the earth was an outline map of the Butcher’s homestead.

  “We’ve drawn in as much as we can see from up here. What more can you tell us?”

  “Um...” Ellen pointed. “Those are just barns and storerooms. That’s the hay store. This is the stable.” Where I shoveled up every last dollop of horseshit. “That’s the bunk room. It’s where most of the Knives sleep.”

  “I’ll bet not many are sleeping at the moment,” Kallim said with grim amusement.

  “Judging by the noises I heard, most were in the main house when I left.”

  “Which one is that?”

  Ellen pointed to the largest building. “There. It’s where the Butcher lives.” Where I knelt and licked her boot.

  “That would be Madeline Bucher, the gang leader?”

  “Yes.”

  “And she’s definitely here at the moment?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know how many of her bandits are present on the base?” Kallim asked.

  “About twenty was the most I ever saw together at one time.”

  “How many others do you think there might be?”

  “No more than one or two.” Who would have missed the fun of hearing me scream?

  “The main house. Do you think it’s where they’ll make their last stand?”

  Ellen paused. “Maybe. But the Butcher’s not stupid. She’s someone who makes plans. She’ll go for offense rather than defense. You might think she’s cornered. She’ll be looking for where to attack.”

  “Exactly right.” Kallim nodded and glanced around the campfire. “If this was a common street thug we wouldn’t all need to be gathered here.” She returned to Ellen. “Is there anywhere else on the site they might retreat to? A defensive position?”

  “Um...there’s a cave here. They use it as a food store. It’s where I was held captive most of the time.” Where Hal made love to me. “They could retreat to it, but they’d be cornered, with no way out.”