Pathfinder's Way

by T. A. White

  A very short one.

  “Are you sure?”

  Shea listened. She couldn’t hear the villagers.

  “Yes. We have a few minutes. No more.”

  “I’ll tell the others.”

  Witt approached the rest and after a short conversation they began finding places to sit. James helped Cam sink down and sat beside him. Dane moved back down the path and found a place to crouch where he had line of sight down the canyon but could still keep an eye on the group. He raised his canteen and took a sip before throwing the canteen to James who gulped some down and passed it to Cam.

  The whiskey-eyed stranger approached Shea.

  She spared him a brief glance before turning to examine the canyon’s walls. She couldn’t see a way up them. They were too steep. Even without the handicap of Cam, it would be impossible to climb them. The dirt was too loose, and it was just shy of being a vertical climb.

  Maybe if they had an area of hard rock face.

  “Your boy’s not going to make it,” Whiskey said, nodding to Cam.

  Shea followed his glance, seeing the pain on Cam’s face and the sweat dripping down his body.

  Though it frustrated her, she had to agree.

  “You’d be better off stashing him and leading the others away.”

  Shea grunted.

  She’d thought of that but hadn’t found a good hiding place. Yet.

  The two of them fell silent again.

  She snuck a sideways glance at him, noting the way he seemed to notice everything around him. He didn’t seem worried about their situation. Neither did his companion.

  Why?

  She envied him his apparent calm. Nerves and tension were the only things she could feel. Being in the Badlands again, even if it was only the edge, was playing havoc with her emotions. The added obstacles of the villagers and an injured man only heightened the tension.

  “We shouldn’t rest too much longer,” he advised. “Our pursuers will be getting close.”

  He was right. Though she didn’t like the thought that he had the kind of experience to know that.

  “I’ll tell the others,” Shea told him. “Thanks.”

  She walked over to Cam and James first and crouched next to them.

  “We’ll be moving again momentarily.”

  James protested, “We just stopped. Everyone needs more time.”

  “You can rest when you’re dead. If we take any more time, the villagers will catch up,” Whiskey said over her head.

  Shea looked up, not too surprised to see he had followed her and was watching the other two with a stone-faced expression.

  She hadn’t expected his help and didn’t know whether to thank him or hit him where it hurt for interfering.

  To her surprise, James didn’t argue, but gave Whiskey a nasty look and started helping Cam to his feet.

  Shea stood and said just loud enough for Dane to hear her, “Dane and Witt, I want you on the rear watching for trouble.”

  “You want us to drop back a little? See if we can thin the herd a bit?” Witt asked.

  Shea thought about it. The suggestion was tempting, but Dane’s ammo was running low, and they might need it if things got worse. It would also make it difficult if Shea decided it would be better to hide and misdirect their pursuers.

  “No. Stay close. Just let me know if you think they’re gaining.”

  Shea let the two strangers take the lead since there was really only one way to go. She dropped back so she could walk just in front of Cam and James.

  “Shea, how did you know we were in trouble?” James asked.

  “I didn’t. Elder Zrakovi sent me because you were late and mist was sighted in the upper reaches. He knew you wouldn’t make it back before it covered your path home.”

  Shea picked her way over the uneven trail, checking for snakes and other dangerous animals.

  “I’m not surprised you ran into trouble, though.” She stood on a rock and reached back to give Cam a helping hand up. The trail was becoming more difficult. At some time in the distant past there had been a rock slide. Picking their way through meant having to climb up and over the large boulders blocking the path. “Edgecomb’s got a bit of a reputation.”

  “Would have been nice to know that before we left,” James said.

  Shea grinned. It wasn’t a particularly nice grin. More a baring of teeth. “I would have, had you bothered to consult me before taking off.”

  “My father’s been after you to put together an expedition to Edgecomb for months.”

  “And I’ve been telling him it’s too dangerous for months. Now you know why.”

  Shea jumped down and turned back to catch Cam if he fell. James supported him as Cam sat and then slid the rest of the way.

  “You should have explained this to my father.”

  Shea put her hands on her hips and caught her breath, before looking up at James as he made his own descent.

  “Whether your father and you like it or not, I’m a pathfinder,” she told him as she caught him when he started to slide. “I’m not required to justify my decisions to you.”

  Shea checked on Cam. He didn’t look so good. His face was pale, and he was panting from exertion while she and James’ were barely winded.

  “What set the Edgecombers off?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Shea gave James a look that said exactly what she thought of that response.

  “I really don’t,” he said defensively. “One moment they seemed amenable to establishing a trade partnership, and then the next they were dragging us out of our beds in the middle of the night.”

  Hmm.

  Cam spoke for the first time. “I think it had something to do with the strangers.”

  “How so?”

  “They kept us apart after we nearly escaped. It’s why they beat me. They’d been keeping us in one of their sheds. The wood at the back was rotted. I managed to break it and crawl through. Before James could follow, they spotted me. After that, they kept us in separate areas. I heard talk through my window, and they kept calling us spies.”

  That made no sense.

  “Spies? Why would they think you were spies?”

  “I think the other two were discovered outside the village stealing horses. The villagers assumed we were there to spot weaknesses our supposed companions could exploit later.”

  That could definitely have convinced Edgecomb that James and Cam were spies. That village took paranoid to a whole new level.

  That didn’t give her much information on their new friends though. It left her with nearly the same amount of questions she had started with.

  James peeked to make sure the strangers weren’t in hearing range. “Do you think they’re bandits?”

  Shea thought about it. The description didn’t quite fit.

  “I doubt it.”

  “Why do you say that?” Cam had to labor to get the words out.

  “They move like they’ve been trained to fight. I’m not talking about one of the village militias either.”

  “You think they could be from one of the city armies down south?” James sounded skeptical. Shea couldn’t blame him.

  The armies in the south had firm allegiances to their cities and almost never came as far north as the Lowland and Highland border. They were needed to defend against the barbarian hordes who lived in the Outlands.

  That was the only plausible explanation Shea could think of. Their new friends just didn’t move like normal people. They weren’t farmers or herders. With the speed they moved and Whiskey’s clear grasp of strategy, she couldn’t believe they were simple villagers.

  The other possibility, she threw out almost before it could fully form.

  “You think they could be part of a Trateri raiding party?” Cam asked quietly.

  “Impossible,” James scoffed. “They never come this far north.”

  The Trateri were the dominant barbarian tribe in the Outlands. Their people led numerous raids
against the southern Lowlands. Mostly they were a story northern Lowlanders told their young people to discourage them from moving to the bigger southern cities, where beast attacks were fewer and life easier.

  Shea had never seen a Trateri or met any who had. Not in any of her journeys in the Highlands or the Lowlands.

  “Either way, it’s clear our new friends are more than they seem,” Shea finally said. “We’ll have to make sure we’re careful in how we deal with them.”

  “Agreed.” James voice was firm.

  Shea shot him a look from the corner of her eye. She hadn’t really been asking for his permission.

  She shrugged. It didn’t hurt to let him think he had a say.

  “Over here,” Shea said, making her way to a large rock pile.

  She darted around its edge, climbing onto a large outcropping before turning to pull Cam up while James pushed from below. Finding this nice little hiding place had taken a lot longer than she would have liked.

  Their pace had fallen nearly to a crawl as the day progressed. Cam struggled to keep up, relying more and more on James for support until James nearly had to carry him.

  Knowing their pursuers would catch them if they continued at the rate they were going, Shea had handed her pack off to Witt before running ahead in search of a hidey hole.

  She’d found one not far away.

  A person looking directly at the pile of boulders would assume they butted right up against the canyon wall. It wasn’t until you walked to the far right side that you could see a narrow gap where a small group of people could remain unseen by others passing by.

  Best of all, the rock slide had created enough of a hill that a really determined person could probably use the resulting debris to climb to the top of the ridge.

  Shea jumped back down and ordered Dane and Witt to join the other two. For once, they obeyed without arguing.

  “Wait here until I come back. I’ll try to draw them off.” She pointed at the two strangers. “You’re coming with me.”

  She started wiping away the tracks leading to the hiding place. There were two thuds as the strangers hopped down beside her. In seconds, they had done a hasty but reasonably thorough job of wiping the dirt clean of all traces of passage.

  Just in time too as the noise of pursuit began to rise.

  She really hoped this worked, that she wasn’t leaving her people cornered.

  Shea and the other two darted down the path, turning the corner just as the first villager burst into sight. The strangers kept pace as Shea hurtled away from the others.

  A knot in her chest loosened slightly as the villagers poured after them, leaving the others undisturbed in the hiding place.

  Shea followed the twists and turns of the canyon, hastily scanning the area for a break in the rock walls or a weak spot she and the others could use to scramble to safety. If they didn’t get out of this confining space, they were dead.

  Shea rounded a corner and slid to a sharp stop, nearly falling on her ass as she lost her balance.

  A horse pawed idly at the ground while another shook his head, ruffling his mane as riders watched her impassively.

  “Crap,” Shea whispered, backing away slowly as a rider’s horse broke from the group to take several steps forward.

  She bumped into a large body and jumped. She turned with a warning to run on her lips when a pair of hands steadied her before tugging her to the side.

  “Behind us,” Whiskey barked.

  Shea tilted her head to look up at him. His eyes were hard, and his voice held a steely thread of command.

  Shea flinched back as the men unsheathed their weapons. The riders thundered past, leaving the trio untouched.

  Shea exhaled shakily. May the mist take her, but she’d thought that was the end.

  She nearly swallowed her tongue when she noticed a man had remained behind.

  He kicked his horse forward into a slow trot. Stopping next to Shea and Whiskey, he unbuckled the sword attached to the pommel of his saddle.

  “You took your sweet time, Fallon.”

  “One of our party was injured. It slowed us down,” Whiskey rumbled from behind Shea.

  The man on the horse tossed the sword to Fallon, the whiskey-eyed man, who caught it easily. He released Shea to buckle the sword onto his belt.

  “We’d almost given you up for dead.” The rider’s lips twisted into a sardonic smile. “I could practically hear the clan heads fighting over your successor.”

  “They’ll just have to wait a little longer. I’m sure they have many plans for my demise. It’d be a shame if they never got to put any of them into action.”

  The rider chuckled.

  As the three men conversed among themselves, Shea edged slowly away, trying not to draw attention to herself.

  The villagers were no longer a problem, but that didn’t mean much, only that she now had to contend with an unknown element with unknown motivations. All this talk of death wasn’t giving her a warm, fuzzy feeling.

  She froze when Fallon pinned her with his gaze, giving her the full force of his attention. This man was on a whole other level than the one she had saved. That man had been intense but ultimately nonthreatening. This man in front of her was a leader of warriors. Strong. Commanding. Forceful. Used to getting his way.

  “I see you didn’t escape empty handed,” the rider observed, following Fallon’s gaze to Shea. “She’s pretty.”

  “And cunning,” the other man Shea had saved added. “She rescued us and two idiots from execution. Stole us right out from under the villagers’ noses.”

  “Is that right?” The horse’s saddle creaked as the man sat back and turned thoughtful eyes back to Shea.

  Fallon ignored this exchange. Whatever he was thinking was hidden behind an unreadable expression.

  Shea was very aware of the size of the men in front of her in a way she had not been before. Fallon and the other she had rescued were over a head taller than her, their bodies covered in muscles she suspected were built over years of weapons training and combat.

  She took another step backward. She wasn’t liking where this was going. A little distance between them seemed like a good idea. You know, just in case.

  “I should be going.” She tried a smile, but it disappeared almost before it formed. “My people probably need help. Glad you were able to meet up with your men.”

  She straightened her shoulders and nodded sharply at him, hoping he’d let her pass.

  The man on the horse snorted. “Are you planning on keeping her?”

  Shea stiffened. Her eyes shot back to Fallon whose face up to then had been closed off, keeping his thoughts hidden. Now it filled with a fierce possessiveness.

  “You’re not going to let me go are you?” she asked with a sinking feeling.

  His eyes held hers as he shook his head once. “No.”

  “I saved you and your man.”

  “For which I’m grateful, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re mine now.”

  What did that even mean?

  “There are too many of us for you alone to fight, and your men are still hiding,” Fallon told her, having guessed the path her thoughts had taken.

  Shea’s shoulders tightened, and her mouth firmed into a straight line. What he said was true, but she wasn’t nearly as helpless as she seemed. She’d wait. Bide her time until she could get away.

  “No harm will come to you from our hands, lady,” Fallon told her quietly.

  That depended on his definition of harm. A man and a woman’s ideas on harm often differed.

  Victorious shouts echoed off the rock walls as Fallon’s men rode into view. That split second of distraction was what Shea had been waiting for.

  She sprinted for the nearest canyon wall.

  “Don’t let her escape,” Fallon’s friend yelled.

  Lucky for her, the wall was formed of hard rock instead of soft dirt.

  Praying under her breath, she grabbed two handholds, place
d a foot in a small indentation in the rock and started climbing, moving as quickly as she could. Horse hooves pounded nearer as she headed up and up, frantically trying to get out of reach. She placed her foot in a small groove, tightened her grip on the wall and then straightened her leg, stepping up and gaining another foot of height on the canyon wall. Her breath caught as she felt a hand grab her ankle before sliding off as she squirmed up another few inches. There was a loud curse beneath her as she climbed two more feet to relative safety.

  It was only when she felt sure she was out of arm reach that she glanced down. Fallon glared up at her from the back of his friend’s horse. The original rider slowly sauntered towards them, seemingly amused at the spectacle. Fallon must have dumped the man off his horse to pursue her.

  She threw her head back and gave a shout of relief. She’d escaped. She’d won. And boy did it feel good to have outsmarted them.

  Still laughing slightly, she glanced down and teased, “Guess you won’t be keeping me after all.”

  At her words, Fallon’s scowl disappeared, and his lips tilted slightly upward into a small smile as he relaxed into the saddle. “Guess not.” The horse paced in a circle as Shea climbed a few more feet, going carefully now that she couldn’t be plucked off the cliff. A fall from this height could maim or kill her. “The world’s not that big. Next time you might not be so lucky.”

  She didn’t know what made her do it. Perhaps it was the high from escaping or the rush of being in such a dangerous situation, but Shea was in a bit of a playful mood.

  She shot a teasing smile back down at him. “You’ll have to catch me first, and I can pretty much guarantee I know these hills better than any of you.”

  “A challenge,” Fallon’s friend said, coming up to stand beside him. “Careful, lady. You’ve thrown the gauntlet down, and Fallon has never backed down from a challenge.”

  Shea smiled to herself. In this case, he was just going to have to accustom himself to losing. There were few people in this world able to find Shea when she didn’t want to be found, and all of them were pathfinders like her.

  No, this would be the last Fallon would see of her.

  There was a sharp twang. An arrow embedded itself in the rock less than an inch from the hand reaching for her next handhold. Her body jerked back, upsetting her balance. Only the fact that she’d wedged her other hand into a crack and then formed a fist to lock herself in place, prevented her from falling. She dangled high above the ground, her weight supported only by one hand.