by Jane Shoup
~~~
It was much too-quiet after the men left. As useless as it was, she wrung her hands and paced throughout the house, frequently ending on a veranda or balcony looking for someone returning. She longed to see someone, anyone, with a relieved expression on their face. Or amused or irritated, any expression that indicated Julia had been found and was perfectly fine would do. But, hour after hour, no one showed.
The first light of dawn found Ammey swaddled in her warmest wrap on the balcony outside Dane’s bedchamber since it provided the best view of the grounds that led to Thender. She was chilled to the bone and queasy with fear. The certainty that something was dreadfully wrong had intensified until she could think of nothing else.
She caught sight of a moving shape amidst the gray landscape. A rider? Yes! It was several riders. The group was returning in mass and without haste. She gripped the cold iron railing. The sky was lightening as the riders got closer. Their haggard, drawn faces indicated the news was as bad as she’d spent the night fearing. She found Dane from amongst the riders. He saw her, too, and allowed her to read his grief. It confirmed what her instinct had been warning all night. Julia was dead. It made no sense, but somehow Julia was dead.
Tears began streaming down Ammey’s face, instantly turning cold on her skin. She turned and managed to take a single step and then another. Her legs felt like planks of wood. She headed to her room feeling unsteady. All night long, she’d wanted to understand what had happened, but now she didn’t want that at all. She wanted Julia to have run for the sheer adventure of it. Her escorts would have followed to protect her. That made more sense than her being dead.
Dead.
Julia.
No. It couldn’t be. It was not possible. Ammey flattened herself against a wall in the corridor and slid down it, sobbing. When she heard footsteps, she tried to get back on her feet, but couldn’t. She wiped her face with both hands, struggling to regain control. David and Dane came hurrying toward her and Anthony was right behind them. They reached her, but she only stared at their boots. She didn’t want to see their faces or hear their words. David squatted before her, but she shook her head and avoided his gaze. She did not want to learn what they had discovered. It couldn’t be true because Julia had been with her men. “Help me up,” she uttered.
“Ammey,” David said tenderly.
“Help me up! Please.”
He did what she asked and she attempted to go, but he wouldn’t allow it.
Anthony shouldered in. “Ammey, look at me.”
“Leave her alone, Anthony,” Dane spoke up. “She knows.”
“We cannot leave her alone,” Anthony snapped. “This has changed everything.”
“She knows,” Dane insisted. “So leave her alone for now.”
Anthony gripped Ammey’s shoulders. “Listen to me,” he said in a low voice. “Julia is dead. She was murdered.”
Ammey refused to look at him, but her tears flowed harder than before.
“Are you hearing me?” Anthony demanded.
Dane scowled at his eldest brother. “Why do you listen to no one? I told you! She knows.”
“It’s not true,” Ammey said weakly, shaking her head. “She was with her men.”
It was silent.
“Yes, she was,” Anthony replied. He suddenly sounded tired and sad.
Reluctantly, she looked at him. She noticed the creases to the side of his eyes. When had he aged enough to get crow’s feet? It was as if she were seeing him for the first time in a long time. The feeling was so strange. Too strange. Perhaps this wasn’t real. It was only a nightmare that had seemed real. “How?” she asked in a thick voice.
Anthony’s frown darkened. “It was violent. That’s all you need to know.”
That was all she needed to know? Was he not the one insisting she accept the truth? It had changed everything, he’d said.
“Corin’s wolves,” Dane supplied.
She felt hot and cold at the same time. An intense nausea gripped hold.
“They took her captive,” Dane continued. “And went to Vhahas cavern.”
“She doesn’t need to know the details,” Anthony declared.
Ammey yanked away from the imprisonment of their over-protectiveness, but her knees buckled and she nearly fell. Her brothers reached for her, but she pushed them away. Corin’s wolves? Wasn’t it only yesterday that Julia had poked fun of the idea of Corin’s wolves? What had she said? That men would create monsters if there were none. And all the while actual monsters had been lurking? “Did you not just say it had changed everything?”Ammey railed at Anthony. “If it’s changed everything, then tell me!”
“She was…hurt,” David said. “And then—”
“Cut,” Anthony supplied curtly when David faltered.
Ammey could tell much more by Dane’s haunted expression than by her eldest brothers’ words. Hurt and then cut. She began to comprehend the darkness in their eyes and swallowed hard, knowing she was going to be sick.
“Ammey,” David said, taking hold of her to steady her.
“I’m going to be sick,” she warned.
“I’ll get something,” Dane said. But before he could go, Tom appeared.
“Baba wants to see you,” Tom said to her, looking grave.
“Surely, it can wait till tomorrow,” David said to him.
Trepidation filled her, choking off her air supply. “What does he want to see me about?”
“I’ll go with you,” Dane offered. “Are you well enough or do you need—”
“He wants to send me away,” she accused. When no one denied it, she shook her head, thoroughly panicked. “I’m not going! I’m safer here.”
“It’s not safe here,” Anthony retorted. “Is that not clear from what happened to Julia?”
David eased her forward. “Let’s go,” he said gently.
It’s decided, she realized. They had already made up their minds. “Where would I go?”
~~~
“You will go to Wydenyl,” her father said. “It’s not far and it’s safe.”
“I can fight, too,” Ammey declared. “As well as my brothers.”
“Don’t speak nonsense!” He never yelled at her, so it worked to silence her, just as he’d known it would. Her chastened expression was a stab to his heart. “I cannot do what I need to do and worry about your safety every minute. Neither can your brothers.”
She blinked back tears and swallowed hard.
“Do you want to be a distraction when we most need our wits?” He knew he was hurting her, but if it took wounding her feelings to keep her safe, he would do it. He needed her safe, and his family would be targets for Corin. That might even have been the reason his wolves were in the valley. And to think Ammey had been close by. She’d been with Julia. She’d seen the guards of Thender coming for Julia. It made him sick to think about it.
“No, baba,” she replied quietly.
He came around the desk and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. He kissed the top of her head. “I’m so sorry about Julia.” He wanted nothing more than to wrap his golden girl up tightly and keep her safe, but there was so much to do. For as precarious as he’d feared things might be, they were worse. Far worse.
In the hall, Anthony paced manically. His expression was fierce.
“Will we bother sending a delegation to Corin now?” Dane wondered aloud.
“Fuck the delegation,” Anthony replied scornfully. “It has nothing to do with us. We go after those dogs.”
“I’ll have Cael escort Ammey to Wydenyl,” David said. “And Zenon.”
Anthony agreed. “Then they’ll catch up with us.”
“Enough men have to be left here to guard it,” David stated. “We don’t know how many of Corin’s units are in the area.”
“I would wager,” Tom said, “they attacked south and east of us to send a message and then tucked tail and ran.”
Anthony seethed. “We’ve got a message for
them, too.” He turned and started off. “Let’s get to it!”
“I’ll speak to Ammey first,” David replied.
Anthony turned back. “It’s for the best that she goes.”
“I know that, but it was Julia.”
“We all cared for Julia,” Anthony said. “Which is why we’ll hunt down the animals that murderered her and tear them limb from limb. Then we should the gore to Corin.” He turned on his heel and walked on. “Got a message for them, too,” he muttered.
Dane and David exchanged a look. “I’ll get Cael and Zenon,” David said. “They’ll be ready when she is.”
~~~
Ammey shoved a surcoat into her pack.
“It’s not punishment,” Dane said as he watched.
“I know it’s not supposed to be, but can you understand that it feels that way?”
Dane avoided her gaze and her question. “Cael and Zenon are taking you.”
She whirled around to face him. “No! They’re two of our best. Why waste them on this?”
“Don’t be foolish, Ammey. It’s not a waste. There’s nothing more important to any of us than keeping you safe.”
It took a moment for her to reply. “Then baba was right. I should go.” She sat on the edge of her bed, weak with grief and exhaustion. “But I can ride there myself. Surely, I can be trusted to do that. Please don’t let them waste Zenon and Cael on this. At the very least, have someone less valuable escort me.”
“They would never to agree to that. I would never agree to that.” He walked over and sat beside her. “But it has nothing to do with trust.”
She found herself rocking and shaking her head. “Is there …any chance it might not be her?”
Dane took hold of her hand and squeezed. “No.”
It had been a foolish question. Ammey forced herself to sit still. “Tell me,” she said just above a whisper.
Dane sighed. “We found the guards first. They’d been shot and left. There were seven or eight assailants. We followed their tracks to the cavern, but they’d already gone, headed east.” He shook his head and looked pained. “There was a stench. In our guts, we knew. We went into the cavern and she was lying over a boulder. Face down. Stripped naked. She’d been …assaulted.”
Ammey turned her face away from him as scalding tears rolled down her face. She worked at drawing a quiet breath because if she allowed a sob to escape her, he would stop telling her and she needed to know.
“I tried to stop Saren from seeing her, but I couldn’t. When she was turned o—” His voice broke.
Ammey put her arms around him and they cried in shared sorrow.
“Oh, Ammey, it made us all sick, but it nearly destroyed Saren. And all I could think was, what if it had been you?”
She shook her head, unable to speak.
Dane stood suddenly and wiped his face. “You have to go.”
Something important was remaining unsaid. She could feel it. “How was she killed?”
He didn’t speak for a moment. “They cut her heart out,” he finally admitted.
A wave of dizziness overwhelmed her and she didn’t dare speak or move, but she was going to be sick no matter what she did. Dane got her chamber pot to her just in time.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured again and again.
She waved him away. “I need some time,” she choked out.
“We will hunt them down and destroy them,” he pledged.
She just needed for him to go.
He started from the room, but turned back at the door. “You know we’ll come get you as soon as it’s safe.”
It was a relief when he left. She curled up, sobbing and cried until she had no tears left.
Chapter Three
Ammey rode behind Zenon on his mount. She hadn’t even been allowed to ride her own horse. So much for trust. Thankfully, she’d gone numb, which was preferable to feeling.
“They only want what’s best for you,” Cael said as he rode alongside them. He’d tried to console her and distract her, but she had lacked the vigor to respond until now. “Why are men always so certain they know what’s best?”
He frowned comically. “You’re not saying we don’t?”
She gave him a sour look.
He grinned. “Is that why you wore the tunic and leggings? To get back at them?”
Ammey huffed. “How childish do you think I am? I always ride in them.”
“Really? Always? Have you noticed her riding in leggings and a tunic, Zenon?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
She refused to get drawn into the silliness. Perhaps she had worn them to make a point, but it hadn’t been to get back at her family.
“Did you swipe them from Dane?” Cael continued. “Or do you have your own?”
“I brought an overgown to put on, so I won’t embarrass—” She broke off as a woman’s scream split the air.
Cael and Zenon reined in their mounts sharply. “Smoke,” Zenon said quietly.
Ammey felt his body tense, not fully cognizant that hers had, as well. The wind shifted toward them along with the distinct smell of smoke. Another scream was heard, this one punctuated.
Zenon shifted in the saddle, offering Ammey his arm. “Get down! Stay out of sight.”
She swung down and moved back, although, surely, they were all overreacting. After all, they were outside of the main gate of Wydenyl, an ancient village settled by druids. The village fathers were pacifists, holy men, and Wydenyl was considered sanctum sanctorum. Whatever was happening inside the village walls could not be too terrible. Perhaps a lodge had caught fire alarming those around it. She held up a hand to ward off the sun’s glare and watched Cael and Zenon continue on. She waited for the village gate to open, but it did not. Where was the gatekeeper?
“Hello,” Zenon called. “Open the gate.”
The gate began to open. The gatekeeper had probably been distracted by whatever had caught fire. Cael suddenly, violently jerked around, coming completely off his horse. He was facing her now with an incredulous look on his face and a dart stuck in his throat. Ammey jerked back from the shock.
Zenon was hit with an arrow to his chest.
No! No, no, no. It could not be happening.
Cael dropped to his knees. A single line of blood ran from the dart.
In the instant it took for Zenon to fall from his horse, she was snatched from behind, imprisoned in a pair of strong arms, a hand firmly clamped over her mouth. “Don’t make a sound,” a man hissed in her ear. “The village is under attack.”
She was forced back into the soft, pliable limbs of a furry bana tree which engulfed her and her captor. She couldn’t breathe! She tried pulling the hand from her face, but the effort only resulted in the man assuming a tighter grip. She panicked and strained against it, shaking the limbs of the furry bana.
“Do you want to die?” the man whispered harshly. “There are a dozen men out there who’d like nothing better than to ravage you until you’re dead!”
A tremor passed through her. She tried to be still, but she was shaking all over. It felt as though she could not get enough air into her lungs, but her captor had not blocked her nose. It was panic making her feel this way. Making her want to fight and scream. Her stomach lurched painfully causing another shudder, but she had nothing left in her stomach to heave. Her captor’s grip tightened around her and she heard the barest shhh from him. She squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated on not convulsing in dry heaves again.
“Poor timing on their part,” a man called.
Someone laughed. Ammey’s eyes flew open and she felt a flow of hatred that was stronger than her nausea. Whoever had laughed, she wanted him dead. She wanted them all dead. She heard horses, dozens of them. The invaders were riding away.
Seconds passed. Or was it minutes. Did it even matter anymore?
“They’re gone,” a deep voice spoke from a short distance away.
Her captor released his hold on her. “You can go now.
”
She moved her jaw, still feeling the imprint of his hand on her face. She tried to move, but her legs would not cooperate.
“Well, that didn’t go as we’d hoped,” the man in the clearing muttered.
“It’s safe now,” her captor said. “You can go.”
Could he not see she was trying? She clutched a soft limb, but it provided no support. Having run out of patience, the man wrapped an arm back around her and dragged her out, just as he had dragged her in. In the clearing, a man with black skin gaped, as did two other men who were moving toward them.
“You take shelter in the trees and come out with her,” the black man commented.
Was he a Moor? The sight of him was strange to her.
“She was with the two that rode in,” her captor explained.
She started toward Cael and Zenon, past the dark skinned man who turned to watch her. Zenon was laying face up, staring sightlessly at the sky. Cael was face down. Ammey dropped to her knees and felt for signs of life in Zenon, despite the certainty of the death stare. She checked Cael next, but he was also dead. Dead. Because they’d brought her to this place. Neither of them had seen their twenty-fifth winter yet and they were dead. They’d been trusted friends and far too valuable to die for no reason. She’d said they were too valuable to be wasted escorting her. Furious, agonizing grief tore a painful sob from deep within.
“I’m sorry about your friends,” the black man said, having come closer. “But who are you and where did you come from?”
She looked up and glared at him, incensed by his calm. “Wydenyl was attacked and you stand there and ask questions of me?” Her voice trembled as hard as the rest of her, but her tears had stopped. Four men stood behind the black man, all handsome, fit and in their early thirties.
“We need to go,” one of them said. “The fire will quickly spread if it jumps the wall.”
The noise and smoke of a fire was stronger now. Wydenyl was burning. Her gut and her chest and her eyes were burning. The wind shifted toward them again enveloping them all in smoke.
“Let’s go,” the black man ordered. “We have to get downwind.”
