“You can have that.” Gilly’s guilt churned but she resolutely ignored it. Unlike with her, people always took to Anna. “You’ll make new friends.”
“I don’t want new friends.” Anna sliced the air with her right hand, her voice vehement. “I want my old friends. I want to belong and I can’t do that if we keep running.”
“Anna,” her husband said in a reasonable tone, “going to see King Ywen won’t make any difference. Life for us is going to be difficult.”
Thank you, Marton.
He gently rubbed his wife’s hand. “We’d be constantly moving through desert and then mountains. Even if we make it to the capital city, why would the king give us an audience?”
“He might hear us out.” Anna clasped his hand in return and pulled him closer. “Especially if he’s been looking for me for all these years.”
Gilly inserted, “He murdered your family.” Why couldn’t her sister understand the ramifications of that? “He’s had Vyan, the chief of Nadym, killed. Ordered Tom beaten. He has no justice in his soul.”
“That could be the act of the horsemen.” Anna broke eye contact with her husband to turn to Gilly. “Of that one-eyed captain. This far from the king’s power, he might have taken an action that King Ywen wouldn’t approve.”
“That’s the other problem.” Marton put his left arm around his wife and tucked her close. “What if the horsemen follow us? If the terrain doesn’t kill us, they will.”
“Then Gilly can take care of them as she did in the village,” Anna said.
Gilly shook her head frantically at her sister.
Marton and Skye turned to her.
“How did you get away from them?” the little girl asked in a bright curious voice.
“I, um,” Gilly mumbled, her throat suddenly dry and tight, “I released some of the animals into the street and it distracted everyone enough for us to escape.”
“If the horsemen find us in the middle of the desert with no livestock or places to hide,” Marton said, “I don’t see how that would help us.”
Anna remained silent and tight-lipped as she watched Gilly, who returned her gaze steadily. Please don’t speak of the magic.
Finally, her sister said, “I’m sure we’ll think of something. We’ll just have to be careful about covering our tracks so they don’t find us.”
“But Mama,” Skye interrupted.
“We’ll be fine.” Anna patted Skye’s knee with confidence. “I’m willing to offer King Ywen my life in exchange for any debt my family owes him. At least then the rest of you will be free.” She turned back to her husband with such a pleading look in her pretty blue eyes that even Gilly was tempted to agree. “Marton, if it would mean Skye and Bevan will be free from pursuit, it’ll be worth giving up my life. You see that, don’t you?”
“Anna, the man’s evil.” Gilly snapped the words out, hoping to stall Marton’s capitulation. “He’ll never agree to anything except your entire family’s eradication.”
“You don’t know him, you’ve never met him. Neither have I.” She turned back to her husband, and spoke with a tremble. “Marton, I can’t live without hope.”
Gilly’s tightened at that vile word. Hope was for fools. “Anna, if the others’ lives weren’t enough for that monster, what makes you think yours would do?”
“Courage, Gilly,” Anna replied with fervor. Her fighting stance was back and all signs of the weepy, trembling woman vanished as if she had waved a finger and cast a spell. “My mother ran. It didn’t do her any good, did it? Why shouldn’t I try something different?”
Gilly played her last desperate hand. “Because you’ll be risking your husband and children on that perilous gamble.”
“They’re already in danger. I’m trying to put a stop to that.”
Gilly turned to Marton but his heavy sigh signaled his surrender.
“She has a point Gilly. I don’t much care for running.” He forestalled her with a raised hand when she would have argued. “I don’t agree we should seek out the king. Sorry Anna but that sounds dangerous.” He waved at his wife when she would have argued. “I’m never going to agree to you giving up your life for any reason. I’ve been thinking on this problem and it seems to me in a big place like the king’s city, with lots of people coming and going all the time, we might be able to hide out better than in a little village, where everyone would know we’re newly arrived. So I agree that we should head for Tibor. There, we might also learn what this family feud with the king is all about and maybe find a way to end it once and for all.”
“Thank you,” Anna said and kissed his cheek.
He brought her into a hug and gave Gilly a crooked “I’m sorry” smile. “It’s said that the best place to hide is sometimes right under the nose of the one looking for you. Besides, if we must run, I’d rather run toward something than away from it.”
“You’re both wrong,” Gilly said.
“This isn’t your fight.” Anna said in a soft voice, watching her intently from within her husband’s embrace. “You don’t have to come with us.”
Gilly wanted to cry but no tears would come. The fight slipped out of her grasp. Anna going on without her was unthinkable. If her sister was determined to go to the King’s city – Gilly shuddered at such a risky move – there was only one thing to do. “Wherever you go, I will also go.”
Considering her sister’s aversion to her, Gilly expected Anna to be angry she planned to tag along. Instead, for the merest instant, Anna’s lips curved up. However, in a blink, her predictable frown returned.
Had she imagined that unexpected hint of approval? No, she’d hoped for it. Idiot.
She glanced at her legs – left one stretched awkwardly – and fought the urge to hit something. She used her clenched fist to knead her bad leg and muttered, “Don’t worry, I won’t slow you down.”
A flush painted Anna’s cheeks pink. “’Course you won’t and you’re more than welcome.” She shifted to allow Bevan to cuddle on her lap. The boy was on the verge of sleep.
Skye slid an arm around Gilly’s waist – a tender lifeline that brought with it the fresh scent of hay and dirt used to disguise the stolen horse. That reminded Gilly of whom and what they fled. An ebony eye patch glinted in her mind’s eye as if the horsemen’s captain winked in mockery of their fruitless plans for escape.
“What do we do with Tom?” Marton tipped his head toward the unconscious man.
“He’s coming too.” Gilly spoke automatically, absently, her mind on evading the horsemen.
“No, he is not!” Anna said. “He murdered Vyan.”
Gilly snapped her head up in time to see contempt obliterate any semblance of softness on Anna’s face. She wouldn’t insist on leaving Tom behind to die alone and defenseless? Would she?
Chapter 3
“I’ll watch Tom,” Gilly said. “He’s in no condition to hurt anyone.”
“He’s also in no condition to travel,” Marton’s tone was gentler than Anna’s but dealt as devastating a blow. “You’re pretty swift on your own, Gilly, but he will delay us.”
“He can ride the stallion with the children until he’s well enough to walk.”
“He’ll be fine in this cowshed,” Anna said with finality.
Gilly’s fear thundered in her chest as an ominous choice loomed. In the village, she’d returned to save him. What was it about Tom that drew her so strongly to his defense?
With difficulty she spoke with what she hoped was a firm, calm, voice of reason. “I’ve given him willow bark tea to keep down his fever and sleep, but his cuts and wounds need tending. We can’t leave him.”
“We don’t owe him anything.” Her sister sounded frustrated.
Calm gave way to uninhibited panic. “You owe him your life! I’m not saying he killed Vyan, but if Vyan hadn’t died, he would surely have told them about you being found as a baby. The Village Chief was not your friend.”
Anna looked at the village drunkard, her face a pi
cture of bewilderment. “Why do you keep protecting him? He’s nothing to us.”
“You can’t always judge people by the way they look or act, Anna. Sometimes you need to look deeper, search beneath the surface.”
Her words choked in her throat as she realized she spoke as much on her own behalf as Tom’s. Over the years, it had hurt that her sister could not see past her labels of hermit, misfit, gimp. “He’s a person. Like you or me, he, too, is worthy of our respect and care. Especially during this moment of crisis.”
Anna bit her lip, looking taken aback.
“I’ve always liked Tom,” Marton’s soft-spoken voice was like water sprayed over flames. “If I had to pick who was more likely to have killed Vyan, I’d pick the horsemen.”
Looking deep in thought, his wife rocked her son.
Gilly’s highly-strung tension dispersed and she breathed a sigh of relief.
“We need to decide on our route.” Marton moved the food items aside and smoothed the hard packed ground.
Gilly could hardly see the others let alone what he was up to. “We need light.”
He immediately grabbed for his pack. Despite having left on short notice, he had come prepared. Anna had picked a good man for her husband.
By the flickering glow of two candles, he roughly outlined the terrain between Nadym and Tibor, marking relevant cities. His methodical work and the calming scent of beeswax soon relieved the nervous energy in the shed. Everyone – except for Bevan, who was fast asleep – leaned forward to study the finished product. Large chunks remained unmarked, unknown.
Marton placed a candle closer on his left, near Anna. “That’s Nadym.”
He passed the other candle over to Gilly. “Set it in the top middle, for Perm.”
Once she positioned it, he said, “To reach Tibor, we must first travel northeast from Nadym to the mountain city of Perm.”
That journey alone seemed daunting.
“Once there, we’ll have to cross the Makakala range and then due east until we reach Tibor.” Bevan’s left sandal was confiscated as a marker for that coastal city beside Skye.
“Why can’t we cross the mountains in the south?” Anna asked.
“It’s impassable down here,” Marton explained. “I’ve also heard that on the other side of the Southern range, the land is covered in bogs that could swallow up horse and man. Even minstrels avoid those swamp lands.”
“But if we follow the trade route north, we must go through the Kocheya Basin.” With her forefinger, Gilly circled the vast desert region in the western center of Ryca. “There’s unlikely to be many stopover places once we pass the Steppes and head into the desert. Except for the children and Tom, we’ll be traveling for leagues on foot. It’s called the badlands for a good reason, Marton. It scorching hot and little life flourishes there, so replenishing our supplies will be difficult.”
“I once heard about a place in the basin called Erov, where there’s reputed to be plenty of food, ale and friendly folk,” Marton said in a whimsical tone. “Trouble is, it’s rumored to never be in the same place twice; vanishing and reappearing at will.”
“Oh.” Skye’s eyes lit up. “Can we go there?”
“That’s just a children’s tale,” Anna scoffed, drowning that foolish dream.
Gilly gently rubbed Skye’s back in consolation. “If we go too far into the badlands looking for a capricious, mythical city, we might run out of food and water and never make it out. If we must go to Tibor, I say we go east first, until we reach the base of the southern mountain range. Then we can gather supplies and, skirting the desert, head north to Perm.”
“I like that idea,” Marton said. “Our pursuers will be looking for us either on the trade routes or heading south, toward other plains’ villages. This route is longer but safer.”
“When do we leave?” Anna asked.
“Not in the dark,” Marton said. “I’ll keep watch overnight. We should make sure we’re packed up first though. If I hear anything remotely like hoof beats, we’ll run for it. You should all rest while you can. Even if the horsemen don’t find us, we have a long trek ahead.”
“I’ll take watch turns with you,” Gilly said. “I’ll need to check on Tom.”
“Good.” Marton sounded relieved. Poor man looked as weary as the rest of them.
Gilly picked up a candle to check on Tom.
“Skye, go wash up by the stream before bed,” Anna said. “Watch your step in the dark.” Shutting the door behind her daughter, she came over to where Tom lay. “May I see his wounds?”
Gilly moved aside and held up the candle.
Anna leaned over, intently studying Tom’s back. The bandages were already blood-soaked and beginning to smell. “He needs stitches. He’s never going to live otherwise.”
The judgment was harsh but mirrored Gilly’s private fears. If those wounds were left untended, by morning, their argument about taking Tom along would be moot. “In my rush to leave, I forgot to pack my needles and thread.”
“Tom will need new bandages at least,” Anna said. “The bag Skye packed is outside. See if my sewing kit and the spare clothes are in it. I’ll watch him while you choose what you need. The bag is by a birch to the left of the shed. Take the other candle.”
“Thank you.” Gilly handed her light over to Anna and hurried outside with the spare one, feeling a warm glow at her sister’s unexpectedly kind gesture.
It had grown dark. Gilly had a hard time locating the birch. When she finally did, there was no sign of a bag.
Skye found her still searching. “What are you doing, Gilly?”
“Where’s the bag of clothes you packed?”
“It’s on the other side of the shed. I’ll get it.”
As the child raced off, Gilly’s her heart pounded with suspicion. Praying to the Light to keep Tom safe, she raced back to the shed. Please don’t let Anna have sent me on a goose chase so she could harm him.
At the shed, she softly opened the door. Anna’s candle was on the floor. It shone an eerie light upward, highlighting her sister’s intent face. Anna skimmed her hands over Tom’s back. Then Gilly realized why she could see her sister’s hands in the dark. Her sister’s palms glowed.
Suspicion transformed into stunned wonder. Anna drew on Light. The result looked different than when Gilly practiced the craft. It almost seemed as if the Light had become a part of Anna. Could this use of Light, done so intimately, be less traceable than when Gilly used it? She prayed it was so.
“Here you go.” Skye came up behind her with the bag of clothes.
Anna jerked backward, hiding her arms behind her back.
Gilly took the bag, her gaze trained on Anna.
Her sister wore a guilty expression. “You’re back. Good. I’m tired, so I’m turning in.” Avoiding Gilly’s searching gaze, she picked up her candle and walked over to where Bevan lay.
“Tom’s breathing isn’t as loud,” Skye whispered.
“You’d best turn in too.” Gilly shooed her toward her mother. Slowly, holding up her candle, Gilly peeled back the bandages on Tom’s back. Every single one of his gaping wounds was in the process of closing. There were still a few slim, angry breaks but nothing like it had been earlier.
So that’s why her sister hadn’t run away when Gilly used magic. She, too, could work Light. My Anna is a healer. How long had her sister known about her ability? Had she confessed to anyone? Knowing how the villagers felt about magic, she suspected Anna would have rarely used her talent, and then not told anyone, perhaps not even Marton.
She was doubly glad of her wards now. If Anna drew the horsemen to them tonight, Gilly would be warned. Would it be in time to escape?
After tending to Tom, she, too, lay down beside her family and hugged herself. Somehow, despite the danger, finding out about Anna’s ability made her feel less lonely.
After two breaks to take her turn at watch, Gilly awoke at daybreak bleary eyed and anxious to leave. The quicker they sped from thi
s cowherd’s shed, the happier she’d be.
Bevan rode the white stallion while Marton gently laid Tom behind him. Belly down and secured in place, he wouldn’t fall off. Everyone else took to the track on foot.
Skye, who’d never gone past the fields where Gilly grazed her goats, repeatedly brought over an unusual colored flower or a long-tailed scaly thing her mother refused to stroke no matter how hard Skye begged.
Gilly, used to solitude, was tempted to go on ahead, but she needed to warn her sister about the danger of arbitrarily using magic, even for as good a cause as helping Tom. As it was, her neck ached from continuously checking behind to see if that illegal draw on Light last night had set the horsemen on their trail. So far, the answer to that concern was no. She had to warn Anna to be more careful though. Raising the taboo subject with her entire family within earshot was a problem.
The family traveled clustered together for several miles, fear acting like a corral. After a few hours, with no sign of active pursuit, Skye began to wander, only to run back to report on her findings. When she dragged Marton to show him her latest discovery, Bevan slid off the horse to follow and the stallion took that moment of inattention to munch on grass. Anna, too, stopped and bent to stretch her legs.
Gilly seized on her only opportunity since they left to be alone with her sister. “Anna, we must talk.”
“About what?”
“Magic.”
Anna met her gaze. “What about it?”
“While I appreciate what you did for Tom, never do it again.”
Anna met her gaze with wariness. “Because magic is evil?”
“Magic is not evil.”
“Then what is it?”
Other than the basics, Mam had said little about the forbidden art; probably afraid her little ones might be tempted to practice and thus draw the horsemen to them. So most of what Gilly understood about magic, she had learned from watching what happened after she cast a spell.
Hidden: Tales of Ryca, Book 1 Page 4
