Tom? Her head swam for a moment and she shut her eyes. Focus! “Did you see Anna?”
“She pushed her way in with Lissa. Said something ’bout important business with Vyan. They moved up ‘fore I could tell ‘em he’d be interested in nothing no more.”
Gilly left him with a comforting pat on his shoulder and advice to go home. She then headed toward Vyan’s house, the largest in the village. Constructed of timber, its front room faced the porch where Tom’s interrogation took place.
Gilly had known Tom most of her life, since shortly after she arrived in Nadym. The tall slender boy with dark hair and intense brown eyes had been a few years her elder. Over the years, he had grown into a loner, almost as much as Gilly. He cared for his cattle but had never married, and rarely spoke. Anna often scoffed that he preferred brew to banter.
He may have been quiet, but Gilly had gained the impression that he was also kind. Perhaps from the gentle way he treated his animals. Tom couldn’t have killed Vyan; she was as certain of that as she was that the horsemen had killed her family. She couldn’t worry about him right now. He wasn’t her responsibility. Anna and her family were counting on her to save them.
She scooted to the back and entered the shed behind Vyan’s house, slipping past the sheep and into the back room. Wailing came from the front room. There, she found Vyan’s wife and daughters huddled together beside the central hearth, looking like a heap of colorful, expensive material on the floor. Past their skirts, Vyan’s motionless legs protruded.
Tom was visible through the front window, strung up by his feet on the house’s front porch. His tunic had been stripped off and red welts showed where bloody lashes marked his back, over other recent cuts and bruises.
Gilly tore her gaze past the porch scene to where Anna stood motionless on the street in front of the crowd. Lissa was close beside her. The two women held hands.
The sound of the whip striking and Tom’s cry brought her gaze swinging back to the closer spectacle on the porch. The one-eyed captain wrapped his dripping weapon like a cord and then grabbed Tom’s hair, pulling him up until they were face to face. “Where are they?”
Tom didn’t reply.
The Captain released him and snapped his whip. Tom moaned in agony.
Gilly cringed. He was taking this beating for her and Anna. He hadn’t even had a chance to properly recover from last night’s wounds. Cuts she’d help sew up.
An early morning incident had created the other wounds on Tom’s back. Close to sunrise, Jonas, the miller, had discovered Tom in bed with his wife. Apparently, Tom had stumbled, drunken, into his neighbor’s house and passed out in the man’s bed thinking it was his own.
Jonas’ wife, not realizing Tom snuggled up to her and not her husband, had slept on, until her husband returned and found her with another man in his bed. On being shaken awake, she swore she was as shocked as Jonas. Her irate husband didn’t believe her.
After the beating, despite Jonas’ ire, the compassionate couple had come begging to Gilly to sew up Tom’s wounds. Tom had violently protested Gilly seeing him stripped to his waist and bleeding but Jonas had held him down while Gilly worked with needle and thread. The miller had seemed to take inordinate pleasure at Tom’s anguish at her hands.
Even Jonas wouldn’t wish on Tom the horsemen’s current cruelty. What they all needed was a distraction. Something to focus the horsemen’s attention away from Tom and Anna.
She retreated out the back door and into the sheep pen. She undid the gate’s latch and the one next door and the one after that. Animals pushed through into the open air.
Chickens, goats, sheep and cows milled at the back of the houses. Her rule about avoiding high magic no longer applied, for the horsemen were already here. Since they hadn’t found her by the cliff face it stood to reason that they could probably generally sense the region where Light was activated but not be able to pinpoint its particular location. Also explained why they hadn’t found her with her baby sister in the woods all those years ago.
Softly, Gilly chanted a song her mother had taught her to draw bees away from the hive with the promise of food. She altered it slightly to focus on animals instead of bees.
White speckled Light immediately hovered in the air and then settled around the animals. The livestock pushed and shoved, slowly at first and then in a frantic fashion, heading toward the village center. People and horses alike were shoved aside in the livestock’s attempts to reach a promised bounty.
Pleased with their chaos, Gilly sneaked around front in time to spot One-Eye turn to see what was the commotion, and then bark out orders to his horsemen.
Gilly made straight for Anna.
Lissa was gone, panic at the horsemen’s brutality must have set her in motion, but the thoughtless girl had left Anna behind. Gilly grabbed her sister’s sleeve and pulled her into the closest front door. For once, her sister didn’t argue or complain. As the door slammed shut, she realized she’d brought Anna to Vyan’s house. Bad choice. Anna was shaking in her hold as she stared fixedly at the dead body.
“What’s happening?” Vyan’s daughter asked.
“Some animals got loose,” Gilly said. “They seem to have upset the horsemen.”
“Good. I hope they trample them to death!” his wife said, raising a vengeful stare. “They killed Vyan, Gilly. They say Tom did it but they must be lying. Why would Tom kill Vyan?”
“What happened?” Anna asked.
“They were talking to my father,” his daughter said. “Then I heard a lot of shouting outside. We all rushed to the door to look out. It was just a small fire, easily put out. When we came back, my father had a knife in his chest. The horsemen stormed out and a short while later a horseman dragged Tom in here saying they caught him running away. They suspect he threw the knife at my father.”
Tom had probably been at the wrong place at the wrong time. She couldn’t help another glance at him out the window, still hanging upside down. He was going to die. The idea didn’t sit well, but Anna was her top priority. Tugging at her sister’s sleeve, Gilly said to the grieving women, “Please don’t tell anyone you saw us.”
“My husband was stabbed,” Vyan’s wife said. “Like he was nothing, Gilly. He was the Chief of Nadym. A Chief!”
All that confirmed Tom was definitely doomed. As her heart shrank in grief, a desperate daring idea spawned. Dare she do it? Yes, she must. She dragged Anna toward the back door and earnestly whispered, “You’ve seen the horsemen’s cruelty, Anna. Is there any doubt about their intentions toward you and your family? Head for the cowshed north of your place. Marton and your children will meet you there. Go. Now.”
Anna snagged her elbow as Gilly turned back into the front room. “But where are you going?”
“Just leave.” Dislodging her sister’s clamp on her arm was made harder as Anna intensified her grip.
“Why aren’t you coming with me?”
Her sister was so obstinate. Her reason for not following Anna would just get her insulted again. Considering her crazy plan to rescue Tom, she wondered if she had indeed ale froth for brains. “I’m going to get Tom.”
Anna’s nails bit into her skin. “He’s a drunkard and a murderer. Leave him. They’ll kill you if you go out there.”
Gilly forcefully pulled loose and was certain she lost skin during separation. “He’s taking this punishment for us, Anna. Go to your family. They need you and I can’t help him if I have to worry about you too.”
Gilly pushed her sister into the back room and shut the door. Before her courage fled, she headed for the front porch and Tom.
Outside, cows trampled everything in sight. Goats were on the thatched roofs. Chickens flew around the horsemen, many of whom had been unhorsed. The air vibrated with alarmed moos, clucks, and baas in addition to men shouting and women wailing. A burst of laughter startled her but she couldn’t locate where it came from.
One-Eye was further down the street, riding a white stallion and sli
cing anything or anyone that stumbled into his path. Gilly couldn’t look at that needless bloodshed.
She moved to Tom’s side and focused instead on untying his rope binding. When the last loop unraveled, he collapsed on the front porch with a heavy thump.
She crouched beside him and whispered, “Stand up.”
He lay unmoving.
With a frustrated cry, she slung his left arm around her shoulder.
“What are you doing?” He slurred the question around a swollen lip and a missing tooth.
“Getting you out of here.” She tried to lift him and buckled under his weight. For such a slender man, he was heavy. “You need to stand.”
“No.” His gaze trained on the white stallion, he removed his arm from around her shoulder. “He’ll be back. Leave me. Leave Nadym. Not safe here anymore.”
“Fine, I’ll go. With you.”
“No!” His rejection was vehement. “Let me die. I deserve it.”
Gilly sat back in shock. “No one deserves to die.” She said the words with force and then glanced at the frightened crowd on the street. Had anyone heard? No, the din was too loud, thank the Light. Gilly moved his arm back across her shoulder. “You will not die. I won’t let you.” She needed to get him off the porch, away from watchful eyes.
“Stop it.” His protest was fainter this time and his eyes were closed. Any moment now he would be a dead weight.
She debated stringing together a spell to lighten his weight. It was either that or drag him, which would be slower and louder. Before she came to a satisfactory conclusion, someone lifted Tom’s other arm. She gasped in fright before recognizing Anna’s scowling face.
Her sister appeared none too pleased to be back out here.
Gilly’s emotions rocked from relief to horror. She feared her heart was permanently lodged in her throat. “Why can’t you ever listen to me?”
“Do you want help or not?”
“Yes!”
“Then shut up and lift. I don’t know why I bothered to help your ungrateful butt. Don’t expect a repeat of the gesture. We’re done once we leave the village. I only came as a “thank you” for coming for me. Now and before.” She paused to gulp in air, as if admitting to the role Gilly played in both those rescues was tougher than hauling Tom.
Gilly squirreled away her sister’s gratitude to cherish later, amazed by its sweetness. For now, what concerned her was Tom’s boots scraping so loud the captain might hear it above the screams of his victims and come galloping toward them. At least the sound masked Anna’s non-stop whispered rant.
To her astonishment, they made it safely into the house without incident. Anna shut the front door with a final angry muttering of “Idiot woman.”
Vyan’s wife’s gaze was grim but she didn’t object to their helping Tom. Obviously she blamed the horsemen for her husband’s death. Thank the Light. Gilly and Anna, half dragged, half carried Tom through to the back room and into the animal pen. Once outside, Anna, panting, stopped. Tom slid to the ground between them.
“We’ll not make it on foot dragging him,” Anna said.
Gilly nodded. She’d come to the same conclusion and had devised a plan. An even more audacious one. Under her breath, she chanted her spell.
An answering whinny came from the street out front. Followed by a protesting shout, several painful sounding thumps and then strident cursing. A white stallion, surrounded by speckled Light, cantered around the corner to the back of the buildings. He halted before Gilly and tossed his head in greeting.
Gilly swallowed a triumphant grin. That’ll teach One-Eye to hurt innocent villagers. While Anna watched open mouthed, Gilly’s quietly muttered spell had the horse kneeling before them so she could heft Tom to lie across the horse’s back. Then she climbed behind him and offered her sister a hand. “Let’s go.”
Without a word of protest, Anna gripped Gilly’s hand and climbed up behind her. Her sister continued to surprise her.
She was wondering if a spell would be needed to ensure the horse could carry them but he rose to his feet with seemingly little effort. As they slowly trotted down the track at the back of houses, she discovered the big stallion was surprisingly sturdy. The only spell she had to cast was one to whisk the soil in their wake to hide their hoof prints as they passed.
They reached the outskirts of the village and she risked urging the stallion into a faster trot and hoped he wouldn’t collapse before they reached the cowherd’s shed. He didn’t.
On their arrival at the meeting spot, Marton rushed over. He pulled Anna off the stallion and held her tight in his arms. “I thought for sure you’d get yourself killed.”
Skye called from inside the dilapidated structure, “Papa, can we come out?”
“Yes.”
The young girl rushed over, and then stopped to smile tentatively at her mother.
Bevan ran straight to the horse. “Ahww!” Reverently, he held out a palm to the magnificent white stallion that stood at least four times his height.
Gilly slid off, landing on both feet without a single twinge. She again wondered if more than the land was affected by high magic. She would ponder that mystery later.
“Marton,” she came around to his side, “would you please help me with Tom. He’s hurt and needs care.”
Anna nodded to her husband. He reluctantly released her to go to Tom’s aid.
Anna opened her arms and Skye ran into them.
“Mama, I was afraid I’d never see you again and never get to say that I don’t hate you. I love you.”
“I know, baby. I love you, too, though you make me angry enough. This time, you were right. I should have listened.”
Marton carried Tom into the tiny one room shack and laid him on the lone cot, face down.
Gilly asked Anna to take the horse into the paddock area and rub him down with straw to dry him out, and then cover him with dust so he wouldn’t stand out. Bevan ran along with her.
Skye would have followed but Gilly sent her on an important errand. To heal Tom, she needed herbs – willow bark and a plant with deep-red flowers called Heal-all that grew wild in the grasslands.
Inside the shed, she thanked Marton and knelt to check on Tom. “Please fetch water?”
“There’s a stream nearby.” Marton headed out.
The welts on Tom’s back were truly deep and in need of stitches. With no needle or fire, the rifts would have to heal by themselves.
Marton returned with a canteen.
“Thank you,” she said. While he went to help his wife, she ripped strips off her underskirt and set to cleaning and binding Tom’s wounds.
His body cringed under her care. Once he woke up and caught her hand. “Stop that,” he murmured, eyes half closed.
“You need care.”
“Not you…” He lost consciousness still holding her hand.
Gently she pulled free and brushed a lock off his forehead, murmuring, “Who else, Tom?”
Skye came in with the herbs. Clever, resourceful child. “Will he be all right, Gilly?”
“Thanks to these plants, he just might.”
“Why doesn’t he want you to touch him?”
So she’d heard that. Gilly shook her head, hiding her hurt. “Probably just fever crazy.”
After ensuring Tom’s wounds were cleaned, medicine applied and he was no longer in danger of dying on her, she stepped back outside. Anna and her whole family were in the paddock working on disguising the stallion. Her heart squeezed in fear for them. How was she to hide an entire family? It had been hard enough to hide Anna as a baby.
They couldn’t stay here. Where to go? Would any plains village be safer than Nadym had been?
She sensed another long discussion loomed. At least, Anna seemed unusually compliant. Maybe the winds of luck were finally at their backs. Not taking that for granted, she went to set warning wards. A short-term measure at best, but better than being caught unaware.
On her return, she called for a conf
erence. “We need to decide our next move.”
“Agreed,” Anna said.
A quick check showed the stallion, now dung colored and forgettable, contentedly nibbling grass.
“Let’s talk inside the shed,” Marton said.
In the cramped space, they sat side-by-side in a circle on the trampled soil. The air was warm and scented with fear. Marton pulled out bread, cheese and pieces of dried meat from his sack. The enticing aroma churned Gilly’s stomach with hunger.
“Why does the king want my family dead, Gilly?” Anna asked, sitting to the left of her husband.
Gilly fidgeted with a piece of dark bread. “Your Mam never said. Just that he would stop at nothing to ensure it.”
Anna’s frustration was clear on her face. “Makes no sense. There must be a reason, some sort of misunderstanding. I say that should be our first move.”
“What?” Marton asked around a mouthful of cheese and bread. “What move?”
“We should seek out his majesty and ask for pardon for whatever crime he thinks my family has done him.”
“No!” Gilly and Marton said together.
“It’s the only thing we can do,” Anna said in earnest. “We can’t keep running for the rest of our lives.”
“Why not?” Gilly asked, panic returning to drum on her head like a battle call. “I think that’s a good plan.”
Marton wiped crumbs off his mouth. “Agree. There are lots of villages in the plains. We’ll find another one, someplace remote, and start over. Blacksmithing is a useful art anywhere.”
“Yes.” Gilly could have kissed the sensible man. “Somewhere to blend in and become part of the community.”
“No.” Arms crossed, lips pouting and brows furrowed, Anna looked like a sulky child. “I liked my life in Nadym. I won’t settle in another village only to leave when the horsemen find us again. I was moved from home to home like second-hand clothing all my life. I’m not doing that ever again.”
Gilly opened her mouth to apologize but her sister, eyes glistening, held out her palms in a stop gesture. “That’s the past. I don’t care why or what good reasons there was for it. I promised myself when I married Marton that I was done with that kind of uncertain living. I want a life where people know and respect me…us.”
Hidden: Tales of Ryca, Book 1 Page 3
