by Kris Kramer
Chapter 27
Erliga kept her head down as she rode behind the dwarf. The var wasn’t uncomfortable, like she thought it might be. The young wizard had awkwardly given her a pair of breeches to wear as they rode. They must have belonged to one of her lord’s guards because she had to cinch them up tight and roll up the legs. The boots were a little too big, but at least they covered her feet. The shirt and coat fit though. She knew they belonged to Freda, but that sweet girl didn’t need them anymore.
She was dirty and unkempt, her hair matted. She was unfit to be presented to any court, let alone her lord’s. Those monsters. They attacked so fast, like nightmares given flesh. The guards were some of her lord’s best, and they never stood a chance. All she remembered were screams and blood. So much blood.
But they didn’t kill her or the other girls. Not at first. They threw them in a pile. Then made them watch. Watch as they ate. Then they…
She shuddered and clutched the dwarf tighter. He did not look back at her. In fact, he did not move at all. She found that somewhat comforting. She just wanted to be left alone.
The old man asked too many questions. He was a shaman, but he wore a silver mask. He must have thought himself pretty important. He reminded her of another shaman that spoke polite words and held himself in high regard. The tall young wizard was odd. She knew he stole glances at her, knew what they meant. Then there was the havtrol. He wasn’t like the ones that killed everybody. He had the bearing of a great man, and not the savage eyes of those others. But he was so huge. Did the rest really trust him? And the other man, the armored one. He was like the dwarf, completely silent.
And they had just left him behind when they started off. Just got on the big wolves and left him there without a word. What kind of men were these? None of them had touched her since the shaman healed her, even given her privacy to change again. But how long would that last? Were they waiting for her to get her strength back? Maybe they wanted her clean. They all seemed more like the men of her lord’s court than a roaming band of brigands, but what else would they be doing out here?
The old man, Pjodarr he called himself, he knew her lord’s crest and name. He’d asked her after she woke if her master had died to the havtrols. She said nothing, but did not lie. She had just shaken her head. He asked her where they were going, why they were in Brinnoch Forest. She answered nothing else, though. What was she supposed to tell them?
Now the shaman escorted them through the trees while he followed some red bead. The wizard made it float in the air. Erliga had no idea where they were going. They were fond of not talking in front of her and she wasn’t sure how to feel about that. She was usually ignored by men until they were done talking. She didn’t know what these men had planned for her. They didn’t seem to want to kill her. If she said nothing, maybe they would tire of her sooner than later.
