Arrows Of Change (Book 1)

by Honor Raconteur

  “Ashlynn!” Broden jerked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the men hot on their trail.

  She nodded back grimly. She’d seen them already, eh? But she did not slow her pace, so he had no idea what the lass was planning. Did she want to stop in a particular spot on the road? He could not make sense of that, as every part of the highway was like every other part. There was not enough difference to make a man sit up and take notice. Surely her plan was not to get all the way to the boat.

  Ashlynn lifted the necklace on her throat and spoke into it, her voice clear as a bell in his ear. “Everyone take a sharp right at this bend in the road and get off the highway. I want to have as much distance between us and the foothills as we can before they catch up with us.”

  He saw sense in the order as she spoke. They had no guarantee that there was not another party in the foothills waiting to ambush them. If the Iyshian king knew enough about their plans to send several squads to waylay them, then would he not be able to at least guess which route they’d take on their way back?

  Of course, they would not be able to get too far, as the Trilakes would bar them in. Still, Broden preferred to have the lake at his back rather than the foothills. Unless Iyshian soldiers had learned how to grow gills, the water was a safer bet.

  With three wounded women doubling up, they did not have the speed of mounted cavalry. The soldiers caught up quicker than he cared for, leaving them close to the lake’s beach but not on it. Ashlynn gave the sharp command of, “Guard my sisters!” before she spun her horse around in a tight circle and then pulled it to a halt, hooves sliding in the loose mud.

  Broden ignored the order—it did not apply to him. He turned and followed her, stopping just behind and off to the left, giving her room to fight and him to shoot.

  Ashlynn stood in her stirrups and spoke a sharp command, the air glowing and humming right in front of her. It grew like a wall, but one without a sharp outline, as tall as a man on horseback, and as long as a felled log. While Broden agreed a shield would be a fine thing to have at the moment, he had to wonder why she did not put up something that would cover them all. Was it just too large a thing for her to make? Or…he glanced behind as the thought occurred that mayhap there were people in the group with no tolerance for magic. Could be she would hurt or drive mad one of her own by putting a shield above their heads.

  Either way, it was obviously his job to watch her back and make sure that nothing got past that wall she’d put up.

  Looking forward, he grimly started counting heads. One, two, three…five…three back there—looked like a dozen altogether. Not a bad response time on the city’s part. Or the abbot’s, if these men were his.

  The enemy commander skidded to a stop, his horse almost sitting on its haunches in its effort to go from a run to an abrupt halt. He looked near in age to Broden, grey hair plastered to his scalp because of the rain. “Return them!” he shouted, his voice like a thunderclap. “Return them, and we will let you return to your country!”

  Ashlynn stayed standing in the stirrups as she snarled back, “You kidnapped my sisters and held them captive, and you think I’ll meekly turn them over?!”

  “Those women are kin to Edvard Knolton, the Betrayer of Iysh!”

  Ho? Edvard be having some fancy title now. Borden made a note to pass it along—he was sure his new king would get a kick out of it—even as he drew two arrows and readied his bow, prepared to fire at a moment’s notice.

  His wizard looked ready to take a few heads off. Her eyes narrowed to mere slits, mouth in a straight line. Broden made note of that look for future reference—if his lass ever looked at him like that, he’d run for the hills.

  In an eerily calm voice she announced, “I am Ashlynn Fallbright, Court Wizard of Estole and blood sibling to Edvard Knolton.”

  The other side stirred restlessly, and more than one man looked ready to bolt when he realized just who it was that he was facing. Oh, they probably did not know the lass’s reputation just from her name, but any fool could figure it out by the title she tacked on at the end. Broden started hoping that cowardice would prevail and they’d have second thoughts about tangling with this group. There’d been enough blood shed already coming down. They did not need more on their hands.

  “I repeat,” Ashlynn raised one hand and let it glow, bright enough to put a torch to shame. “Retreat back to your city. Allow my party to pass. I will not show you leniency a second time.”

  The commander’s reply was lost on Broden. Something else caught his attention instead. Ashlynn had her eyes locked on the enemy commander, but Broden never looked at just one man. His eyes caught a movement from the very back, and saw that two men were hiding behind their fellows and drawing crossbows.

  In that moment, he realized that the commander was talking to simply distract her. As soon as she dropped that shield, they’d fire, and there would not be a thing anyone could do to save her after that. Grimly, he rose up in his stirrups as well, drew his bow in a smooth motion and fired in an arc over the front row of riders. He fired in quick succession, aiming for the two he knew were ready to cause trouble.

  Because he wasn’t sure what type of shield Ashlynn had raised, his arrows arced over it as well, smoothly gliding through the air with a piercing whistle before it found its mark in the men’s shoulders. They screamed in near unison as the arrows hit and the crossbows dropped to the ground with heavy thunks.

  Ashlynn did not ask any questions but simply changed her shield’s length, widening it so that the other side could not get around it at all. Then with a flick of her fingers, she sent it toward the group.

  No man could outrun it, the shield moved so quickly. As it hit them, the enemy soldiers either flinched, or they became violently sick, some even shuddering and dropping out of their saddles to retch on the ground. Those Broden ignored, as a sick man offered no real threat. He shot the three men who only flinched and tried to charge forward, his arrows finding quick homes in the shoulders or chests.

  The commander was one that took an arrow in the chest, near the right breast pocket, and he clutched at it with one hand as he gasped with pain. Behind gritted teeth, he accused Ashlynn, “You signaled your man to attack us while you distracted me, thinking that we could negotiate!”

  “No, that was your tactic, I think.” Ashlynn shot a questioning look toward Broden, who nodded in grim confirmation. “Fortunately for me, my partner is a paranoid man and not one to fall for tricks like that. Now, sir, your choice. Do I kill the rest of your men, or do you pick up your sick and wounded and retreat peacefully back to the city? Be forewarned that I’m inclined to kill you. I’m in a bad mood. I think I’d feel better if I took my anger and frustrations out on you.”

  From that look in her eye, she wasn’t kidding. The commander seemed to realize that as he lifted a hand and swore, “By Macha’s Sword, I will not try to attack you or anyone in your party. You are free to return home.”

  No man would make such an oath with the intent to break it. Macha was the god of horsemanship, battle, and sovereignty, and not a god that took being mocked well. Satisfied, Ashlynn motioned to her people and said, “Go.”

  They went, Konrath taking lead as he had more knowledge of this area of the country than anyone else did. They rode for perhaps another mile or so, until the ship came in sight. There was no real beach, just gravel and rock, and apparently the water was deep enough for the boat to anchor in. A gangplank was already extended, and the crew was lined up along the railing, obviously waiting on them.

  “Wounded on board first.” Ashlynn reined to a stop and slid off her horse while snapping out commands. “Marissa, Seth, set a quick perimeter. Broden, take a lookout position. I need about twenty minutes to heal them properly, and it has to be done right. Otherwise we’ll have very sick people two days from now. Tant, get me clean water. Everyone else, help get the horses on board.”

  Broden went back to where they had come, taking up a position that allowed him to see t
he road while giving him a little cover behind a small rise, just in case. Seth joined him a moment later and asked in an undertone, “Were they really trying to distract her and then attack us?”

  “Two men cranked up crossbows.”

  “Oh.” Seth pondered that for a moment. “Why did you shoot over her shield?”

  “Lass has two different types of shields. One for magic, one for weapons. I had no way of knowing which she’d put up back there.”

  “And you were afraid that if it was the weapon’s shield, your arrow wouldn’t go through?” Seth hazarded.

  “Aye.”

  “Alright, come on board!” Tant called to them.

  Well, that had been quick work. Broden was surprised they got the horses on board and sorted that fast. Still with a weather eye on the foothills, he obediently walked the gangplank and onto the ship.

  In all his born days, Broden had never been on a ship before. Oh, he’d seen them a time or two—but they had not been anything compared to this. Amber (she being the one that found the captain and bartered their passage) had called it a schooner, whatever that be. All Broden could tell was that it was large, long enough to fit seven horses and eighteen people, although it was a bit tight. There were three masts and a half dozen sails altogether, but the ship seemed sound and waterproof under his feet. The way the crew scrambled around each other and their passengers, getting the anchor up and the gangplank drawn back in, spoke of experience. They did not call out to each other, or ask questions, just simply did the job. Their efficiency put many of his doubts to rest, but he couldn’t shake his unease off completely. The experience of having nothing but water and wood under him was too new for him to really relax.

  Finding himself in the way, he tried different areas of the deck, but always seemed to be in the wrong place and tripping over other people. Finally, he ended up on the upper section of the decking and behind the helmsman, who was also their captain. The man was short and stout, greying beard but dark haired, face lined by age and sun. He spoke in a growl or a shout, but never with unkind words. Broden had a good feeling about the man, but did not try to speak to him, just watched him and the shoreline, an eye out for potential trouble.

  They left the land behind, sailing for the center of the lake. Broden could see the far shoreline, barely, in the strong moonlight. If he remembered his geography right, Overa was on the other side of the lake, but they had no cause to leave Trenena. At least, not yet. That might change, depending on how things played out.

  The wind picked up, the sails snapped taut, and the boat picked up speed to where a trotting horse would barely be able to keep up. Broden relaxed a hair when he realized that no one from Lorand was trying to catch up with them. There was not a flicker of movement from the shore, and they were too far out for anyone to pursue them now.

  The captain too, had fallen silent, and was simply steering now. This might be the right time to ask a question. “Ye be a fine man for helping us out of a tight spot.”

  Glancing over his shoulder, the captain’s beard twitched upwards, as if under all of that hair he was smiling. “That pretty brunette lass said ye were rescuing the blonde lass’s sisters. Be that truth?”

  “Aye. Although how they came to be held in an abbey of all places, I can no’ ken.”

  “Oh, that abbot be a corrupt soul. Everyone in town knows it, too. It be no surprise to me the man would hold young lasses captive. How the man holds his position, that be what I can no’ ken.” With a sad shake of the head, the captain dismissed this. “Gause, Captain of the West Wind. Pleasure to have ye on board.”

  Broden gave him a duck of the head. “Broden Ravenscroft. May harmony find ye, Captain Gause.”

  Gause seemed pleased by Broden’s polite response. “Good people, yer lot. Always a kind word from all of ye. Bit worried I be, at first, when yer lass came to me. But seems I be doing a good service after all. She could no’ tell me where ye be headed, though. Right now, we be sailing for Lakepoint?”

  Spreading his hands, Broden responded, “We be no’ sure what our options be once we reach Lakepoint. It depends on what be there. If we can, it be best to take a flatboat to The Grove, and then go home across land from there. But if there be no flatboats that can take us…”

  “Then ye either cut across land on horseback, or go by sea?” Gause hazarded. Stroking his beard thoughtfully, he offered, “This time of year, odds be good that ye can catch a flatboat. But no flatboat can take on all of ye and the horses. Like as no’, ye will need two—one for the horses, one for the people.”

  Broden had even less experience with flatboats than he did with ships, so had to take Gause’s word for it. But surely the man would know, as this was his business. “Eh, then can ye guess what it would cost a man to hire two?”

  “Oh, depends on the captain. A young one will no’ charge ye as much, as he be still making a name for himself, y’see. He be willing to take any work that came his way. An older man, well, he might charge ye more, as he be more in demand. But this be the time of the year when the river be fullest, and the flatboats can load up heavy without worrying about dragging bottom. Like as no’, ye can find two to hire.”

  That was good news, at least.

  Ashlynn came up the short stairs and joined them. She shot a particularly charming smile at the captain as she said, “It’s a fine ship and crew you have here, Captain Gause. Thank you for taking us on.”

  It was hard to tell by moonlight, but Broden would swear Gause blushed as he stammered out, “N-no, it be a pleasure to have ye. Kind people, ye be. Be there anything else ye need?”

  “No, not at this moment.”

  “Yer sisters sorted, then?” Broden asked.

  Ashlynn gave him a weary smile. “Finally, yes. I had to answer about three dozen questions as I healed them, but they’ve all fallen asleep now. They had no idea what this whole thing was about, or who was behind the kidnapping, or anything.”

  Broden was not surprised to hear that.

  “Captain Gause, do you think we can hire a flatboat once we reach Lakepoint? We’d like to go up the river and to The Grove, you see.”

  Gause inclined his head toward Broden. “Yer man and I just spoke on that. No use trying to fit all of ye and yer horses on one. Ye be needing two, and this be high season for the flatboats, so odds be good. I know a captain or two I can introduce ye to, if ye wish.”

  Ashlynn’s smile this time was more genuine. “That’s very kind, thank you. I’d appreciate that. None of us are particularly familiar with this area of Trenena after all. How long will it take to reach Lakepoint?”

  “A day, mayhap less, depending if we can keep up this speed.”

  “Excellent. In that case, it gives us all a day to rest.” Turning to Broden, she suggested, “You’d best come down and choose a hammock to sleep in.”

  He blinked at her. “A what, now?”

  “Hammock.” With her hands, she tried to illustrate it in the air. “It’s what sailors sleep on. It’s a web of rope that’s strung out between poles. You sleep on them.”

  Broden eyed her dubiously. Sleep on rope? That did not sound the least bit comfortable. “I think I will sleep on the deck, lass.”

  “It’ll be fine,” she promised, amused. Grabbing his hand, she tugged him after her. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  He could hear Gause chuckling behind him, and mentally cursed the man for finding this funny. But no matter what the lass said, he was not about to sleep on rope, no matter if it was tradition on a ship or not.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Needless to say, Broden did not sleep well that night. Everyone claimed a man could sleep just fine in a hammock as long as a storm was not about to toss him out of it. That was hogwash. Broden rolled out of it three different times before giving up and sleeping on the deck. He awoke irritable and bleary eyed. If a clear target had presented itself, he would have promptly riddled it with holes, but he had no one to properly blame for his lack of sleep ex
cept his own fool self for trying that thrice-cursed thingamajig to begin with.

  There was a mess hall and kitchen in the bottom decks, down the hall from the sleeping quarters. Broden followed his nose and found breakfast being served up by a burly man that looked more like a blacksmith than a cook. A line had formed in front of a low wooden counter, and Broden joined it, looking about as he did so. There were exactly three tables, all bolted to the floor, with round stools set around them, also bolted to the floor. Half of his own group was already in the room, eating breakfast and chatting with each other. Ashlynn, Seth, and Marissa were not there, so he assumed them to be on the upper deck.

  Three girls he’d only met briefly the night before were gathered around one table with Amber. He studied them from the corner of his eye as he waited for his food. Bria’s dark hair was no longer a tangled mess around her face, but had been neatly braided and tied to hang over her shoulder, plain grey dress looking washed and pressed. She had the Knolton blue eyes and a heart-shaped face that matched her sweet nature. On her right was Catriona—Cat, as she had insisted the night before—with her fair hair hanging freely down her back, also looking clean and pressed in a white shirt and dark skirt. Unlike her sisters, she looked wan and distressed, lines engraved in her fair skin and around those sharp dark eyes.

  On Cat’s other side sat Darisa, who had an arm around her sister’s shoulders, and was speaking in a low, comforting tone. Darisa was the only one that truly looked like a Knolton— dark hair with a slight wave, blue eyes, olive skin. She could be Edvard’s twin, the more feminine version, if she was only three years older. She also must be of a size to match Ashlynn, as Broden recognized the dark blue shirt and riding pants she wore very well.

  The cook slapped a spoonful of porridge into a bowl, handed him a cinnamon roll, and a glass of fresh water. Mouth watering from the smell, he nodded thanks to the man and went to join the table of girls. “Top of the morning to ye, lassies.” They all looked up at him and smiled, and there be not a man in the world that could resist a table of smiling, beautiful women. He promptly sat down. “Ye all slept better than I in that specious bed, I hope.”