by Wren Handman
Everyone divided quickly, already prepared for what was ahead. Ryan found Taya and wordlessly handed her a dagger. There was no point giving her a sword or bow—it would be an understatement to say she had no proficiency in either. She had never even held a sword, and only played at using a bow as a child. A dagger would have to do, and she would have to be smart and not throw herself into danger she couldn’t handle.
As she approached her group she overheard David speaking angrily to Jeremy. He was being as quiet as he could, but his deep voice carried unintentionally. They were speaking a merchant cant of Sanitas, probably so the others would have a harder time understanding, but Taya’s father was a merchant and she knew it well.
“If Lord Mendaci’s spies find us out, they can concentrate their forces on our company, wipe out every rebel leader in one attack,” David was saying.
“Let’s not pretend things will be better than they are. Chances are every group will be hit.”
“All the more reason for us to be divided between them! The king takes one group, I one, you another, and Jacqueline the last. We give Sarah and Liam to Darren, and I keep Ryan and Thomas. It was what we originally discussed!”
“I rethought, David, and I thought carefully. If we’re all together, and we get hit, chances are good some will survive. If we’re split you could each be the one casualty in your company. Together, we can work harder at resource management, keep you both alive.”
“And you.”
“Yes, of course,” Jeremy agreed, though it was clear he was saying it only to appease David.
“I don’t like it. It’s a gamble. It’s safer—”
“It’s a gamble either way. And it’s decided.”
They stared each other down for a moment. Then, as if on cue, they both turned toward Taya. She pretended to be busy with her bag, but it seemed they knew she was listening, for the conversation died and when she glanced up again David had left, back to Ryan’s side.
She knew Jeremy was worried about transporting Darren, but he insisted he could walk under his own power. She didn’t think anyone else could read the signs that she saw: the slight tightness of his lips, the way he flared his nostrils now and again, how he ticked his head to get hair out of his eyes more often than it fell in front of them. Each of these things meant to her that he was in pain, that he was frightened of the battle to come. He wouldn’t have admitted it for anything, and she respected that because she knew she was the same. She was afraid of what would come, of the things that they might meet in the darkness. She was hurt, and tired, and knew it must be a thousand times worse for Darren, with a blazing hole in his shoulder screaming defiance at every motion. He would not give in, however, and she would be there beside him in case he stumbled.
Their company was assigned to the northwest gate, which was the closest path to the river. Because Darren was with them, it was most important that they achieve their goal, and so they had been assigned two of the most skilled fighters.
“The one on the left is named Sarah,” David whispered in her ear. “They say that she can gut a man in under twelve seconds. The other is Liam. He stood with no weapon against five men and lived to tell the tale. Supposedly, he was exiled for killing an entire legion of soldiers when they tried to annex his land for their larders.” From their appearances, Taya would certainly have believed both of these stories. Sarah was dressed in cured leather that had seen better days, and she was missing one of her front teeth. Her shoulders were twice as wide as Taya’s—the term “battle-ax of a woman” came to mind. She had a sword at her belt and knives in her boots which looked well-tended, and her greasy hair was pulled back by a leather thong. Liam was an even more frightening figure. A large scar traveled down his forehead and through one of his eyes, leaving it open only a small crack, and a thick black beard crept up his face so all that was visible were his eyes and the angry red line of the scar. They had said nothing when they walked up to the group, and even Darren was awarded only gruff nods in recognition of his station as captain.
Jeremy wasted no time getting organized. He assured himself that everyone had rations and bedrolls, and quickly assigned company duties: Sarah and Liam were in charge of the raft; David and Ryan were on scouting; and though he assigned himself no duties, it was clear that Jeremy was to act as bodyguard, keeping close to Darren at all times. Taya knew the issue embarrassed Darren—he had no wish to appear weak, or to need to rely on the help of others. He wasn’t stupid, though. He wouldn’t let pride overcome his common sense and make him wind up headfirst in the river because there was no one there to catch the back of his shirt.
Taya noted that she, too, had been neglected as far as duties were concerned, but since that was marginally less insulting than being told her job was to stay quiet and try not to get in the way, she decided to let it pass. She was too tired to start any arguments anyhow, and she knew if she did push the point she would only end up being given some job that she would then be too tired to perform correctly. If there was one thing more important to her than saving face, it was living. And Ashua, of course, and Darren too. For them she would likely give her life. She knew not many people felt that way, especially about the goddess. Most paid a tired lip service to their deity, and never thought twice of the state of their souls. And as for love…Well, she supposed that could still be found, but it was definitely more common to find it missing than not. She wondered if she would ever stop feeling this way for him, and knew that likely it would someday fade. She could not imagine, however, that it would ever disappear completely. It was too immediate, too real, and he was too much a part of her. People didn’t change, not really, and so, since he was part of her, she could not escape him without tearing out a part of herself. She didn’t think she would want to forget him, anyway. Better to have had the time they did, than to never have known.
They set off with Taya still deep in thought, falling into a natural procession. Sarah and Liam took the lead, and Darren, Jeremy and Taya followed in a line, chatting amongst themselves. David trailed a little behind, playing the part of the erstwhile dreamer, while Ryan disappeared into the shadows that surrounded them. Sarah and Liam took the supplies for now, so they had the appearance of tinkers, carrying their wares on their backs. Darren had explained that it wouldn’t do to seem that they were a group, but they needed to stay in sight of each other. It was a difficult distance to keep up, and Taya was filled with an odd respect for the Sephrian spy who had managed to follow her undetected for such a long time. It was difficult to keep the two leaders in view without getting too close, and there were several times when Jeremy took her arm to curtail her steps, or when Darren had to point out a turning that the pair had just taken. All of this while discussing what story they would tell to get out of the gates at night. The gates were guarded, and while they weren’t technically barred from entering and exiting, they would have to come up with a reason for their nighttime departure. This proved to be excellent distraction, but meant that they kept almost losing their quarry. By the time they reached the gate Taya felt ready to pull her hair out. Clearly, she did not have a second career as a tracker or a spy. Sarah and Liam went through with no trouble, too far away from the others for Tay to hear the conversation that passed between them and the guards, and too soon for Taya’s liking the trio had reached the gate and Darren was reaching up to tip a non-existent hat at the guards. He fumbled on his head, a confused expression passing over his face, and then slurred, “Huh. S’funny…M’hat’s gone.”
The guard rolled her eyes, thinking she had found another drunken reveler who had been left behind when the farmers packed their wares after Market Day. “Reason for leaving the city after dark?” she asked, clearly not all that interested in the response.
“S’good question,” Darren proclaimed, waving a hand mightily in the air. “An I’s gots a good answers. Heh. Answers…What was I sayin?” he asked, looking blearily over at Jeremy, who had also adopted a drunken air.
Jeremy
looked at Darren for a long moment, snickered, and then shrugged helplessly.
Taya snorted through her nose and laid a hard smack on the back of Jeremy’s head, to which he responded with an angry, wordless cry.
“The damn lazy asses kept me searching through every bar in the city for them, that’s what our reason is. Father wouldn’t wait with the damn wagon and they spent all their money on ale, so now we have to walk home in the dark!”
“Awww…s’all…all…all…good,” Darren assured her drunkenly, wrapping his uninjured arm over her shoulders and grinning in the direction of her neck.
The guard chuckled, glancing across the way at her compatriot, who nodded wordlessly.
“Right. You lot can go on through, then,” she told them.
Taya nodded a curt thanks and started to walk, almost sending Darren crashing to the ground. Quickly she stepped back, catching him before he could wrench his wounded shoulder, and shook her head.
“Men,” she muttered, and the guard gave her a sympathetic look. She maneuvered Darren out of the gate, Jeremy following close on her heels, and only once they had passed the pool of lamplight did she let herself breathe.
The night was a dark one, but the moon gave enough light to see shadows and outlines. The lights from the city cast a pale grayness for several feet past the gates, and it was just outside of this circle of illumination that Liam and Sarah waited. The five of them waited in silence for David and Ryan, who appeared two minutes later, specter-like in the gloom. Sarah and Liam distributed the backpacks, each person carrying their own supplies and bedroll except David, who carried Darren’s as well, and the group set off.
The area just around Novosk had been cleared of trees and crops, to leave a defendable circle around the walled city. Two hundred yards past this were the edges of Novokai Forest, and just north of that the river Sirrin ran. The group had agreed to shadow the forest, which would ensure they traveled in the right direction while letting them avoid the road, which might have other travelers on it. Once they reached the end of the forest they would travel north for several furlongs to reach the river.
The light of a torch would have been suicide on such a clear night, so the company was forced to travel in darkness. Darren stayed at Taya’s side, an arm wrapped around her shoulder, and though he said nothing she knew his wound was paining him. She, unfortunately, was doing little better. Her work as a seamstress demanded very little physical exertion, and her legs were a good deal shorter than anyone else in the company’s except Ryan, who showed no signs of slowing. She had to race to keep their pace, and five minutes in was already struggling not to gasp for breath. She carried the weight of her own pride, refusing to slow down or be a handicap to the rest of the group—plus the more real physical weight of Darren, who leaned on her more and more as time passed.
At some point Jeremy slid up beside her and tapped her on the shoulder, pushing her gently to the side. They could not speak for fear of their voices carrying, but his point was clear. He put Darren’s arm around his own shoulder and took the burden, gently squeezing her arm to acknowledge the work she had done to this point. If another had done it, she might have been insulted at the insinuation that she was having trouble, but somehow the way he had gone about it put her at ease. She took half a second to massage her aching feet, which were clad only in useless house slippers, and then jogged to retake her place in the group.
Despite Jeremy taking over her burden, the journey was arduous. It was barely possible to see the figures of the company around her, and avoiding the roots and shrubs that threaded their path was out of the question. She was gratified to see that she was not the only one who stumbled over roots or took a branch to the face, but it became problematic if the stumbler was Darren or Jeremy. There were several times when she felt the presence of David as he dodged forward, catching one or the other before they could hit the ground, and more than once she heard Ryan’s knife slicing through a branch moments before it would have hit her. The thanks had to be silent, but it was understood that they would help each other whenever they could. Even Sarah, who had seemed so harsh and imposing, caught her sleeve and guided her over a log which had fallen across the path.
After an eternity of darkness, a speck of light appeared in the distance. It was far away, over the water, but it seemed like a glorious blessing after such an interval alone. Ashua, thank you! I felt like I would never see light again, Taya prayed silently, a smile on her face despite her exhaustion. True, she was covered in scratches and bruises, her legs aching from the multitude of times she had stumbled and fallen before someone could catch her, her chest heaving as she struggled to fill her lungs with even a single breath. But she was not alone! There was light there, somewhere, and there would be light again. All they had to do was cross the river, and wait until daybreak. A definable goal helped make the time move quickly.
The small group stumbled across the open distance toward the water, and now they had to go even more slowly than before. Liam was following some hidden path that Taya couldn’t hope to see, trying to land them exactly where they had hidden the raft. The journey was tense, everyone watching Liam as he took his careful steps, counting under his breath. A faint whisper of the sound reached Taya’s ears, for she had ended up directly behind him in the procession.
“Four…five…turn half step…one…two…one step sideways. One…two…” The litany continued, quietly enough that she doubted David could hear it at the back of the group (technically, Ryan was at the back of the group, but Taya thought there was a good chance he could hear not only the murmured words, but the beating of her own flustered heart). The distance would normally have taken only a finger-span to travel, but they moved so slowly the moon had fallen an entire hand-length down the sky before Taya caught its silver reflection in the waters of the Sirrin. Liam approached the water, and Taya felt the touch of Sarah’s breath against her neck as she moved forward, everyone’s eyes straining to see if he had followed the instructions correctly. Ashua, please let it be there.
Liam stood up, a blotch of darkness against the pale reflection of the waters, and raised an arm high above his head. He waved it in what she thought for a moment was a signal, but then realized was just an exuberant dance. He had found the raft.
Taya resisted the urge to scream in joy, but her face split into a large grin and she clapped Sarah happily on the arm. She could see the faint gleam of Sarah’s remaining teeth as she grinned in response.
It was while Liam and Sarah were struggling to push the raft out into the waters that disaster struck. They would not have seen it coming, would likely have been cut down to a man, if Ryan had not shouted warning.
“Archers!” he roared, his voice splitting the silence, and he knocked David to the ground as Jeremy brought Darren low.
The warning came moments before a volley of arrows, which sliced through the air and hit the ground with shuddering thumps. Taya was too startled to throw herself to the ground, but remained unhit, though an arrow passed close enough to her arm that she could feel the wind. The archers had come from somewhere east along the same bank of the river, though she could see nothing in the dark. She heard the loud sounds of bodies crashing through the woods toward them, and then Sarah grabbed her arm.
“Quickly!” Sarah hissed. “The raft!”
Sarah pushed her toward it and Taya stumbled, catching herself against the ground and continuing to run in one swift movement. She felt the welcome rush of terror clearing her head, giving her aching muscles new life. She stumbled again and felt her foot sliding into something cold, and realized she had reached the edge of the river. Her feet were quickly numbing in the freezing water, and as she climbed aboard the raft her foot caught in the slurping grasp of the muddy silt. She wiggled free, but the river claimed her slipper. Liam was on the raft already, his arms straining with the effort of keeping it steady against the current. Sarah drew her knives and disappeared into the gloom, just another shape now among many.
Someone screamed, and then another. Knives and other metal caught the moonlight and glittered for a moment here or there, but Taya could make no sense of it. It was impossible to tell friend from foe, or know if any of her side needed her meager help. Taya knew she would be no good in the fight, but scrambled back up and grabbed the raft pole from Liam. “Go!” she yelled.
“You can’t hold it,” he snapped, but she wrapped her arms around it, throwing her whole weight into the motion and knocking him aside.
“Go!” she yelled again, and reluctantly he went.
The current of the river was fierce, but losing the slipper helped give her a grip on the wet planks of the raft. She kicked off the other and leaned her whole body weight against the pole, and miraculously, the raft held. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep it. There was another scream, more animal than human. Taya shuddered against her makeshift stand, squeezing her eyes shut and telling herself that she was safe. No arrows would come this way. No one could see her in the black. Ashua, Ashua, let it be so. Ashua, watch over your children. The soft tang of copper drifted on the breeze, and she recognized it as the scent of blood. It had always seemed so innocuous at home, that faint residue from the butcher who had owned her store before her. Now, suddenly, it was horribly present and dangerously real. It could be one of her companions whose life was mixing with the dirt of the ground, creating a swamp of dark red glue. It could be one of her friends. Somehow they had become that to her, these tried and loyal men.
She was startled by the sound of someone splashing toward her through the water, and she lifted her head in fear. It would have been far too late had it been an enemy, but it was Darren thrown unceremoniously onto the raft. He was moaning, his legs curling up toward his stomach, and whoever it had been to throw him onto the raft disappeared immediately back to shore—she thought it must have been Ryan, for though there had been deafening noise in the approach, he was utterly silent now that he had dropped off his burden.
