by M. R. Forbes
As she was talking, as she was remembering, tears began to fill her eyes. She wiped them away with her sleeve, defiant against her sadness.
She wanted me to be strong. To survive. To fight.
"You joined his army," Eryn said. "How do you accept both his law, and Amman's Words? There was nothing Mother ever read to me that made killing children acceptable." The words left her mouth before she gave them any thought. She held her breath while she waited for the man to become angry.
"No, there isn't," he said, remaining calm. "Though many priests would point you to His Writings and tell you how they prove the Cursed are creatures of Heden, and such monstrosities are to be met with harsh judgement."
"Then what do you think?"
"I'm here with you."
"You weren't always. When I was in trouble in Varrow, you helped me."
"A beggar and her blind grandfather. Too many soldiers would have reacted as Sexton did. I joined his army to speak the Words of Amman, to bring compassion to the soldiers around me. My success in that way was limited, though it did bring me to the Overlord's attention, and earn me fast promotion through the ranks. Now I understand that Amman had a different path for me, one that I just couldn't see."
"Then what do you think? If you are part of the army, and were called on to help a Mediator capture or kill a Cursed-"
"I would do my duty first, Amman help me. Because I cannot spread His Words from a hangman's noose."
"Did you ever do your duty?"
Fehri stopped walking and looked back at her. His face was the only answer she needed.
"I prayed to Amman for forgiveness, for understanding. Every night I prayed. He answered my prayers by bringing you to me for help, twice now. He has told me His will. I am remorseful for what I had to do, but I am not sorry. Does that make sense to you?"
She was fifteen years old, and she had killed how many people? They were fighting for him, fighting to continue the killing and the imprisonment. She had thought all of them were evil and heartless, but Fehri had shown her that wasn't always true. She did feel badly that she may have killed someone with a family, maybe someone who had joined the army to support their mother. Even so, if she could do it again, she would kill them a second time. She wasn't sorry about that. "Yes. Perfect sense."
They kept walking for another hour. Fehri recited some of the Words of Amman to her. Words of compassion towards living things, of caring for your elders, of strength in suffering. After each sentence or paragraph, he would pause and tell her what it meant to him, and ask her what it meant to her. Each time he would pause, his eyes would dart from her face, to her shoulder, to her legs.
"This is a good place to make camp," he announced.
Eryn knew right away he had said it because the pack had become too much for her to carry any further. Her legs were tired, her shoulders were sore. She slid the pack off and dropped to the ground with it.
"We can't risk a fire," the soldier said, opening the pack and rooting around in it until he found some cured meat. "Road rations. Salty and chewy. Better than starving." He had a water skin on his hip, and he handed it to her. "Drink."
They shared the meager meal in silence. While Eryn chewed the tough meat, her thoughts wandered to Wilem and Talon, making their way north towards Edgewater.
Amman, I pray that you keep them safe, and return them to me, or me to them. Thank you for my family, Mother and Papa and Roddin. For Talon and Wilem, Robar and Sena, and the Troupe in Elling. Thank you for Captain Fehri.
She looked over at the man. He was a few years older than her. Closer to Roddin's age, which meant he was old enough to be married. He was a handsome man, strong and confident in his beliefs. He would make a fine husband to someone.
"Are you well?" Fehri asked, noticing her looking at him.
"Yes. Thank you for the food."
He smiled. "You're welcome, my Lady. Please, rest now. I'll keep the first watch."
"Promise you'll wake me before morning, so you can sleep some as well," she said.
He was silent.
"Captain Fehri."
"I promise." The words were reluctant, but she believed them.
Eryn laid back on the grass, using the pack as a pillow, and closed her eyes.
Whether here in the Empire or above with Amman, I love you all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Eryn
She woke with Fehri's hand on her mouth.
"Shhh," he whispered. He was leaning over her, his face inches away from hers. His dark eyes were narrowed in concentration. "Stay quiet. Soldiers."
She remained still, and he removed his hand. She could hear it now, the motion in the darkness, the creaking of leather and the soft smacking of scabbards against legs and brush.
"How many?" she whispered.
"Six. No horses. No torches."
"Do you think they were following us?"
"I didn't see or hear a thing. Soldiers aren't quiet."
"Someone else? Not a soldier? Maybe they led them to us?" She remembered Master Lewyn, the woodsman of her village, who had turned on her to protect his wife. It seemed like it was a lifetime ago.
He held his finger to his lips again and moved to his feet. Eryn pushed herself up as quietly as she could.
"I can take care of them," she said, moving close to whisper in his ear.
"No Curse," Fehri said. "On the General's orders."
"Give me a sword."
"I only have the one."
"A knife?"
He glanced over at her and smiled. Then he pointed up. "Can you climb?"
She grabbed the hem of her skirt again. "In this?"
"It is either that or fight, and fighting might draw more attention. I'll give you a boost." He crouched down and cupped his hands together, ready to receive her foot.
"What about you?"
"I'll be right behind you."
She stepped into his hands. He shifted, tossing her up with enough force to get her within reach of the lowest branch. She grabbed on and pulled, thankful for her time spent at her father's forge, and the strong muscles that had been borne of it. She mounted the branch, ignoring the way her skirt rode up around her hips, found her balance, and continued to climb higher. She watched Fehri grab their pack, stick it at the base of the tree, along with his sword and water skin. Then he began sweeping a layer of leaves and twigs and other debris over it until it was invisible in the darkness.
The footfalls were growing closer, and moving with enough certainty that she was sure they knew where they were going. Someone must have been following them, and had returned to the soldiers once they had settled for the night.
The tree shook a bit when Fehri grabbed the branch and pulled himself up. He navigated it easily, reaching Eryn and urging her higher.
They climbed further up, until they could barely see the ground past the other branches and leaves.
The soldiers appeared a couple of minutes later. Except... they weren't soldiers. Even in the dim light Eryn could see that their armor was a little too loose, or a little too tight. The clothes underneath were too thick, too long, or otherwise poorly fit. Of the six, only four of them were carrying a sword.
Eryn and Fehri looked at one another, both confused. Even brigands would have been better armed than this lot.
"Silas," came the whisper from below. "Silas, you 'ere?"
"Someone was here," a second voice said. A woman. "They were laying right here."
"How long ago?" another asked.
"Hard to say. The ground doesn't hold the heat well at night."
Eryn reached out and tapped Fehri's shoulder. She motioned down when he looked at her. They weren't soldiers. Maybe they had come to help? He shook his head, and then opened and closed his hand to mime talking.
If there were any soldiers nearby, their noise was going to attract them.
"Silas? Urla told us you was a General. We come to join your army."
Join his army? What made them thin
k there was an army to join?
They crept slowly through the area, looking for any clues to where they might be. One of them approached the tree.
Eryn tapped on Fehri again and pointed down, past the stranger to where he had buried the pack. The man was standing right next to it. If he had gotten any closer, he would have kicked it already. Fehri shrugged. There was nothing to do about it now.
"Thought mentioning Urla would bring 'im out," the first voice said.
The person under them turned. "It's probably your smell." It was the woman. She turned back to the tree again, and then knelt. Had she seen the pack? Her hand reached out, touching the ground where Fehri had disturbed the brush.
"Umbert," a new voice said. "I think I see torches."
The woman stood again. "I told you this was a bad idea. These woods are crawling with soldiers."
"Let 'em come," Umbert said. "I didn't come out 'ere to find General Talon Rast if I didn't want to fight."
"We won't stand a chance against them," the third man said. "Not without the General."
"Ah, piss on that."
"Umbert!"
The woman's quiet admonition seemed to sway him.
"Fine, Essie, let's get out of 'ere. We'll 'ave to find the General some other way."
Essie started walking away from the tree, but not before her head tilted and she looked up. Eryn felt herself freeze, hoping that the woman wouldn't spot them there. She must not have, because she continued her retreat a moment later.
They stayed in the tree, listening as the would-be recruits abandoned their search. They could hear the movement through the woods, fading as the party got further away. Eryn also noticed the torches now, flickering in and out of existence when their carriers passed between trees or brush. They were still some distance away, though they seemed to be edging closer.
"They're following them," Eryn whispered. She felt something in her mind, a hint that made her ears tingle. "They have a Mediator with them."
Fehri was silent. He had his eyes closed. Listening.
"We need to help them."
He didn't move when he spoke. "No. They made too much noise. It was their mistake. Let us not compound it. We'll use the fighting as a distraction to get ourselves away from here."
Eryn felt herself tense. Those people were commoners, not soldiers. All they wanted was a means to fight back. The chance to be part of this. "Amman says that we should tend to the meek."
"They came out here to fight. To do war. Maybe not today, but one day. There is nothing meek about that."
"They're going to die."
Fehri nodded again. It was clear to Eryn that he wasn't happy to leave them behind, but he knew there was no other choice.
The shouting came a few minutes later, followed by the ring of steel. It echoed through the forest, falling into Eryn's ears and causing her to shiver.
"Come," Fehri said, climbing down the branches as though he had been born in a tree. He was on the ground before Eryn had made it to the first branch. "Jump. I'll catch you."
Eryn stared down at him. It was ten feet or more. What if he missed?
"I have a sister back in the Marshes who isn't much smaller than you," Fehri said. "I won't drop you."
Eryn took a deep breath, and jumped.
He caught her smoothly, sweeping his right hand up when she reached him to shift her direction, supporting her legs with one arm and her back with the other. She felt the warmth of his hand slide up her leg beneath the skirt and onto her bare thigh as he slowed her to a stop in his arms, their faces only inches apart.
"There now," he said, lowering her to the ground. "I told you I wouldn't drop you."
Eryn swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to find her legs, while Fehri quickly snatched up his sword and the pack. Then he reached back and took her hand, pulling her swiftly through the woods, taking advantage of the sounds of battle to disguise their escape.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Eryn
They reached Ember early the next morning. Eryn was exhausted by the time Fehri paid the tax at the outer gates and brought her into the town as his wife, Nila. She slumped against him while they entered, in part to play along, and in part to allow him to hold her up. She was impressed with his strength and stamina. They had been on the move all night, determined to reach the town once they knew there would be no rest outside of it. He hadn't slowed, hadn't wavered, despite the weight of the pack.
"I've never gotten into a town so easily," Eryn said, once they were onto the main street. They walked towards an inn known simply as 'The Inn at Ember', located somewhere out ahead of them.
"A complaint, my Lady?" Fehri asked. "We can go back and tell the guards who you really are. I'm sure that will be beneficial for both of us." He smiled at his humor, through a face that was clearly as tired as she was.
"Amman does value honesty," she replied, surprised to find herself smiling back at him.
"Amman asks us to pray on our indiscretions. He does not ask that we have none."
"Do you have other indiscretions you want to confess?" Her playfulness surprised her, especially after the night they'd just had.
Fehri smiled and pulled a small bit of rounded paper from a pocket, showed it to her, and returned it. "Sacha."
"What is it?"
"A plant." He tapped his head. "Calms the nerves. It's against his laws to have it."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "I suppose because it can make us soldiers a little less alert. It's a bad habit I picked up from my brother, Amman, and I haven't been able to shake it."
"Your brother's name is Amman?"
"Yes. If you hadn't guessed, my parents are very strong believers in Amman. They named my brother after him in hopes that He would favor him."
"Does He?"
"I think the ladies favor him too much for there to be any room for Amman. Or maybe it is just His sense of humor, that I spread His Word while my brother spreads his seed." He glowered at the thought, obviously not in favor of his brother's choice of lifestyle.
The town had yet to wake, and it left them almost alone on the cobbled street of brightly colored storefronts that split at the Constable's office in the center. The building sat in the middle of a huge square, and a few merchants were already out with their pushcarts, setting up their stalls for the day's business. The smell of baking bread was thick in the air.
"You've been to other towns," Fehri said, noticing how Eryn looked on everything with a sense of freshness.
"Always running, always hiding. Always disguised. Never like this." For a few minutes, she could let all of it go, and just be a lady walking down the street. She looped her arm around Fehri's. "I almost feel normal."
"I'm sorry it isn't meant to last."
Eryn considered for a moment. "I'm not. If Amman gave me the power to fight for the Cursed, then I am happy to do it."
Fehri nodded. "I admire your courage, and your outlook. There's the inn."
The Inn at Ember was smaller than Eryn expected. Smaller than Waverly's, though that was hardly a fair comparison since Patmos' inn was the largest she had ever seen. This one was pressed between two other buildings, three stories high, with a hitching rail instead of a dedicated stable. A servant waited at the door, and he ran down to them once he realized they were headed his way.
"Take your bag, my Lord?" he asked Fehri. He was young, eleven or twelve, small for his age, in black breeches and a clean white shirt. "My Lady." He bowed to them both and held out his arms to take the pack.
"No, thank you," Fehri said. "I'll carry it myself. Your master should be expecting us, Felip and Nila Dornier, from Portsmouth."
The boy looked them over, not sure if he should believe Fehri's insinuation that they were merchants or traders of some kind. Eryn could only imagine how they looked. Especially her. Between climbing the tree and walking through the dirt, she must have been a mess.
"A question, young man?" Fehri asked.
"No
, my Lord," the boy said, caught. His face reddened, even as he turned and ran back towards the inn.
"I need another bath," Eryn said. She had taken a swim in the river before they left, while Wilem stood on the shore facing away from her and keeping watch. It was sweet how he wouldn't take the opportunity to look at her, even when she knew she had given him chances. A day later, and she was filthy again.
"You will have one," Fehri said. "I hope you don't take offense, I had to book the room for the two of us."
"I'm not offended. Sil... Talon entrusted me to you. I trust you."
"Thank you, my Lady."
Eryn stopped and turned to face him, putting a finger to his chest. "You've seen up my skirt, and had your hand on my thigh. If you call me 'my Lady' again, I'm going to punch you."
Fehri's face turned bright red, to Eryn's amusement. "Yes, my- Eryn. You are a spirited girl."
She kept her finger on him. "Don't call me 'girl' either. I'm not that much younger than you are. How old are you?"
"Nineteen."
Younger than she had thought. "And you're a Captain?"
"My father teaches young men who want to trial for a place in the army. I grew up with swords, and with him bellowing orders. He taught me everything he could, most importantly confidence, while Amman granted me the gift of compassion. I have been fortunate, because Overlord Prezi values these things more than most in his upper echelon."
"Your father was a soldier?"
"No. His father. He didn't want me to join the army. He wanted me to take over the business, to train young hopefuls. Amman had other ideas."
"Amman the God, or Amman your brother?" Eryn asked, smirking.
Fehri laughed loudly at that. "Perhaps a bit of both. Shall we go inside?"
The inside of the inn was warm and bright, with yellow walls and a light wood floor that had been recently polished. There were a half dozen tables squeezed onto the floor of the common room, made of light wood with impressive and expensive glass tops. Silver accents ran along the base of both table and chair, adding to the opulence. Brightly colored painted landscapes lined the walls, and a huge tapestry hung behind the bar in yellows and reds and greens; a field of flowers on a riverside.
