Thief's Blade

by C. Greenwood

  After she was gone, I realized how exhausted I was from the few hours of interrupted sleep I had been able to snatch over the past few days. The dirty pile of blankets in the corner beckoned to me. I gave Ferran his small tin soldiers from the traveling pack so he would have something to play with. Then I lay down and slept. My last thought as I drifted off was to hope that whatever mysterious preparations Ada was making for our journey, she didn’t get caught.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The rain had stopped by the time I woke again. The light slanting through the window looked a little less gray, so I judged it to be afternoon. There was no sign of Ada in the room. She must not have returned yet.

  I rolled over and found Ferran gone too. Panic seized me, and I scrambled out of my blankets to look for him. Had our enemies taken him stealthily while I slept? It seemed unlikely. Why should they take him and leave me?

  “Ferran!” I called. My voice echoed through the empty building.

  I hurried out into the hall, where I saw no sign of him. There were other rooms on this level, all of them in a more dilapidated state than the one we had been staying in. In some of them, half the floor had caved in, leaving gaping holes looking down into the shadowy lower level. I was terrified Ferran could have fallen down one of those holes.

  I called my brother’s name again.

  This time I heard a faint noise in response. I hurried toward it. I found Ferran in an empty room, sitting in the floor, playing with his tiny toy soldiers.

  Although his wandering off had given me a scare, I didn’t scold him for it. I was just relieved to see him able to walk around on his own again. He was still piteously thin, and the dark circles remained under his eyes. But there was a brightness about him that I hadn’t seen in a long time. The medicine, it seemed, had worked wonders. I decided I would store the remainder of the herb packet very carefully and guard it like treasure, in case he ever needed it again.

  We returned to our room just in time to find Ada climbing agilely in through the window. She carried with her a canvas sack slung over one shoulder. From the way the sack bulged, I guessed her outing had been a success. I couldn’t imagine how she had made the climb up the tower of crates with that burden, but she didn’t look winded. There must be more strength to the skinny peasant girl than met the eye.

  With the rain newly stopped, she had managed to keep drier than I had. All the same, she quickly created a glowing blaze to warm herself.

  “Did you find all we need for the journey?” I asked.

  “Far from it,” she said. “But what I got will carry us partway.”

  I didn’t ask how she came by the provisions, suspecting I already knew the answer.

  “We’ll have to hurry,” she continued. “I’ve found us a good opportunity, but if they wander off, I doubt I could get two more.”

  “Two more of what?” I asked. “What are ‘they,’ and why should they wander off?”

  “You’ll see,” she said mysteriously. “Let’s just say someone will come looking for them before long, and it’s best they don’t find them—or us.”

  There was no time for breakfast. Ada packed up her possessions in a hurry. They seemed to consist mainly of the dirty blankets we had been sleeping on and the hidden treasures she pried out from their hiding place beneath the loose floorboard.

  I made sure Ferran and I had all our things packed away in the traveling sack and helped my brother find his boots. Straightening Ferran’s collar, I had a brief flash of memory, envisioning Cadvan doing the same just before we set out on our escape from the tower. Now here we were, fleeing in a hurry again. Would we ever stop running?

  When all was ready, we followed Ada’s lead as she scrambled out the window. Watching Ferran cross the slippery roof, I had misgivings over his ability to climb down the stack of crates. He was still too weak for that. But we took the descent slowly, going down one crate at a time.

  He was doing surprisingly well. Then as we neared the bottom, he lost his footing. I caught him before he could fall, but my sudden lurch unbalanced the crates. They teetered and collapsed, all of us crashing to the cobbles, with crates clattering around us. Luckily, it had been a short fall and we were unharmed. But the noise might well have attracted attention.

  “Come on,” Ada commanded and took off running down the alley. We were left to follow as best we could although I kept my pace slow for Ferran’s sake. At the end of the alley, we slipped through a hole in a rotting wooden fence.

  And there, on the other side, we found Ada’s surprise. The “opportunity” she had procured for us came in the form of an ancient-looking horse and donkey standing near the fence.

  “We have to leave the city quickly,” Ada explained. “Before anyone notices the animals are gone.”

  She took the donkey, while I boosted Ferran up onto the back of the horse, an old white mare that probably hadn’t been in riding condition in years. There was no saddle, and Ferran had to grip the mare’s mane in place of reins. I climbed up behind my brother. Then we set off, Ada taking us by the backstreets where we were least likely to attract attention.

  Despite everything, our journey was beginning better than expected. We had procured mounts and supplies and were, so far, avoiding capture by the growing number of people who had cause to chase after us.

  * * *

  We escaped Varnai without incident, never catching a glimpse of our enemies. Out on the roads of the surrounding farmland, I felt exposed. At least in the city there had been the warrens of alleys and little side streets, offering a thousand places of concealment. Here on the open landscape, there were few places for hiding. And I was painfully aware that any roads leading out of the province were the ones most likely to be watched by soldiers from the tower. For the past night and day, my primary concern had been avoiding our two mysterious keepers, the men who wanted to deliver us to their sinister master. But from here on out, a greater threat would be the danger of being picked up by pursuers from the tower.

  In spite of the urgency, we had to ride slowly that first day. My ancient mount refused to be nudged into anything faster than an uneven trot that made my teeth rattle. Ada’s donkey was no better. But at least our silver-haired guide seemed to know where she was going. And if she ever lost her way, I carried the map of the provinces rolled up inside my coat.

  The weather stayed gray and gloomy, but the rain held off. We passed few travelers on our way, only some peasants trudging on foot or the occasional donkey-drawn cart rattling along between farms.

  Because we had set out so late in the day, we only traveled a few hours before it grew dark. As twilight deepened, we stopped and made camp a little distance from the road, tying our mounts to a nearby tree. We were reluctant to make a fire so close to the road, where it might draw attention. So instead of a warm meal, we ate more of the biscuits from my traveling pack and some strips of dried meat Ada supplied. I was relieved to see Ferran’s fever hadn’t returned, and he remained alert and interested in our surroundings. He also ate more at supper than he had in some time. I hoped he was gaining strength.

  After devouring the last crumbs, we spread out our blankets and slept beneath a cluster of bushes. The ground was hard and lumpy, and there were only the thin blankets to keep out the cold. But at least the rain had been gone long enough for the ground to dry out. I could hardly ask for more than that.

  * * *

  In the night, I had strange dreams of shadowed monsters stalking us and dragging my brother away. Ferran kept calling my name, but for some reason I couldn’t move or answer him.

  I started awake with his screams still echoing inside my head.

  It was dark. The moon was shrouded in clouds, and the starlight was weak and distant. Only the stark outline of looming shrubbery nearby reminded me where I was. What had disturbed me? I rolled over to find only empty blankets on either side of me. Ferran and Ada were gone.

  Alarmed, I bolted upright. I came face-to-face with an indistinct shape crouchin
g over me, faint starlight glinting off his metal helmet. Before I could react, he snatched me roughly by the arms and dragged me to my feet. From somewhere nearby, I heard sounds of a struggle and Ferran crying out, but I couldn’t see him.

  Fear lanced through me. We were captured!

  I lashed out at my enemy, but he turned his head and my doubled fist found nothing but the hard side of his helm. Knuckles stinging, I kicked and squirmed in his grip, but a second armored man joined the first, and both were much larger than me. They held my arms behind my back and tied my hands with a bit of rope. At least I was now turned so I could see Ferran. He was bound the same as me, and his feet dangled above the ground. He was in the grip of a soldier who held him against his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Nearby, Ada was in a similar position, except where Ferran and I knew enough to give up, she still fought our captors.

  “Rideon, who are these men?” she shouted to me before attempting to bite the hand of the man who held her.

  I didn’t answer, because the truth was too terrible to acknowledge. I knew the armor and manner of these soldiers. They came from the Eyeless Tower, the place of our imprisonment. They had found us.

  I winced as Ada’s captor dealt her a ringing slap across the face and ordered her to keep still. She did.

  There came the sounds of jangling harnesses and the heavy clop of hooves. Someone brought horses around. These weren’t our beasts, who were nowhere in sight, but tall, unfamiliar mounts.

  “Get them on the horses,” someone commanded. I couldn’t see who had spoken.

  Ferran and I were pushed up onto a pair of the horses. There was no opportunity to break away, for the leads were firmly held by more mounted men on either side of us. There must have been at least a dozen soldiers in the company.

  “Captain, what about the girl?” asked one of the men on the ground.

  “I have no orders concerning her,” answered the one he addressed, apparently the leader. He strode to a horse and swung up into the saddle. “Best bring her along for questioning.”

  At his command, Ada was forced onto a mount, like the rest of us. Now I saw our animals, the white mare and donkey, had been seized, along with the traveling packs containing all our supplies. Even as I took all this in, I was helpless to do anything to stop it.

  As Ada’s horse was pulled alongside mine, she must have been thinking of the two men who had hunted us in the town, for she whispered to me, “Are these more of your old enemies?”

  “No,” I confessed. “New ones.”

  I didn’t need to tell her there would be no giving the slip to these trained soldiers, as we had done our pursuers in town. I could see by the slump of her shoulders that she already knew it.

  “You never warned me you were being hunted by a whole troop of armed men,” she accused.

  “Quiet, both of you!” commanded the soldier who held the reins of my horse.

  Ada was right. It had been unfair of me to involve her in our troubles. Our captors might well suspect she was an accomplice in the tower escape. I didn’t like to think what tortures awaited her where we were going.

  The last of our captors remounted their horses, and we pulled out. My heart sank as I realized we were headed in the direction we had newly escaped. All that we had suffered to get this far had been for nothing.

  CHAPTER NINE

  We rode half the night, speeding down the road past a flat landscape where one field looked like another beneath the moonlight. Over the pounding of our horses’ hooves, I sometimes caught the ominous sound of thunder rolling in the distance. Once lightning forked across the sky ahead of us. Another storm was coming.

  Our captors slowed their horses long enough to converse. I didn’t hear what was decided by their captain, but it was clear some decision was being made about the weather. A short while later, we left the road and cut through a field of wheat. A tall timber structure rose up out of the darkness ahead. It was this we headed toward.

  We reached our destination just as light sprinkles began to patter down on us. Everyone dismounted, and a pair of soldiers ran ahead and dragged open the wide doors of the old barn. The interior was so dark I could make out nothing of the space we were being herded into. I heard the voice of the captain calling for light.

  A blaze was quickly struck up, revealing our first glimpse of our surroundings. There was a wide space that would have been open but for bales of moldering straw stacked against the walls. A rope ladder led to a loft above. To one side of the barn was a row of stalls that must once have held horses. But there were no animals here now, except those we had brought with us. The condition of the building, with its sagging walls and roof, suggested it was long abandoned. Wide gaps between boards in the walls allowed cold gusts to whistle through the cracks.

  Despite how the place creaked and groaned with every strong blast of wind, it offered shelter from the weather. Outside, the rain was beginning to come down harder. While most of the soldiers were unsaddling their horses or hastily building a campfire, Ada, Ferran, and I were dragged over to one of the abandoned stalls and violently shoved inside.

  Unable to break my fall because my arms were bound behind my back, I landed on my chest. My chin struck the hard-packed earth, and I bit my tongue. Immediately I tasted blood.

  Ada and Ferran fell on top of me. It took us some minutes of clumsy wriggling to sort ourselves out. I wound up on my side, with Ada behind me and Ferran directly in front.

  Those who had deposited us here returned to their companions, leaving us alone. We could do nothing but lie in the darkness and listen to the rain on the roof and the sounds of our captors settling in to wait out the storm. A scattering of old straw on the ground beneath us did little to keep away the cold. It added to our discomfort by filling the air with a musty smell.

  “What’s going to happen to us?” Ferran asked, round eyes glinting in the shadows. He was trying to look brave, but his voice betrayed him.

  “Nothing’s going to happen. Everything will be fine,” I promised, more out of habit than because I really believed it. The truth was I couldn’t see any hope in our situation.

  It occurred to me Ada was being awfully quiet.

  “Ada, are you all right?” I whispered to the girl behind me.

  When she didn’t answer, I twisted my head back to see she was lying very still on the ground. There was a bloody cut on her forehead, where she must have struck her face when she was thrown to the floor. She still seemed to be breathing, so I decided she was only knocked cold. There was nothing I could do for her.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Ferran whispered.

  “She’s resting,” I lied.

  Hearing the sounds of approaching footsteps, I shushed Ferran. We both waited in silence. An indistinct figure appeared at the stall’s entrance, his face lost in the shadows. It was one of our captors come to check on us.

  “Are you younglings thirsty?” he asked, shaking a waterskin at us. “You want a drink?”

  I had no interest in food or drink, but I asked for water for my brother. The guard lifted Ferran’s head, helping him drink, then returned him to the floor. I noted this man was less rough than the previous soldiers. Maybe we could get some help from him.

  “My friend is hurt,” I told the guard, jerking my head toward Ada. “Her face is bleeding.”

  He peered through the gloom at Ada’s still form. “Looks like a small cut,” he said. “She’ll live. Will probably just have a headache when she wakes.”

  He left us then and went back to his companions. Clearly there would be no help from that quarter.

  The smell of roasting food wafted to my nostrils, telling me our captors must be cooking something over the campfire. They had left open the front doors of the barn, presumably to let out the smoke. Over the hollow noise of the rain drumming on the roof and pelting down on the ground outside the open doors, I caught the low hum of men’s voices. Snatches of our captors’ conversation drifted my way.

  I ho
ped Ferran didn’t hear what they were saying. But my brother soon spoke up, dashing that hope.

  “They’re talking about returning to the tower,” he whispered to me. “You promised we would never go back there.”

  There was accusation in his voice.

  I could only repeat assurances everything would be all right, a promise that was beginning to sound old even to my ears.

  Much as I tried to convey confidence to Ferran, my heart sank at the thought of returning to that place of horror. I could almost feel the tight walls of our prison closing in on me already. We would be separated this time. I was sure of that. They wouldn’t risk giving us the chance to plot another escape together. Most likely, our breaking out of the tower had sealed our doom. That single action would justify harsher measures and inspire our father’s old enemy, the praetor of Camdon, to take final action against us.

  Yes, I knew with a fearful certainty that if ever we entered that tower again, we would never leave it. We were fated either for slow starvation and disease or for speedy execution on the same block where Father had lost his head.

  When the voices of our enemies eventually fell silent, I decided they were probably asleep. Even Ferran snored softly beside me, worn out by the night’s events. I lay awake, staring into the blackness overhead and trying to work out some means of escape. I could see none. Soon the rain would pass, dawn would arrive, and we would be forced to return to the road.

  “Pssst. Rideon.”

  I started briefly at the low whisper from behind.

  “Ada? You’re awake?” I asked, grateful for at least one piece of good news.

  “Quiet,” she breathed. “I have a plan. Just keep very still so I don’t set you ablaze.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. “Wait. What are you doing?” I asked.

  I received no answer. Instead, I felt a sudden heat against my wrists, where they were bound by rope. Understanding dawned, and fear came with it. She had conjured one of her fireballs and was using it to burn away the ties that held me. I only hoped she could control the magic enough to keep it from setting me on fire or burning us all to death.