Pathfinder's Way

by T. A. White

Despite the bitching that had followed their orders, they’d rather enjoyed their time on what scouts considered light duty. Though the terrain was still rough, the villages rarely put up any fight and every one of them was clearly marked on a map. It was easier than a lot of the mapping missions they drew, but it was also considered bitch work since there was little to no glory to be had.

  “This time you’re getting a shower if I have to throw you in myself,” Buck groused at Shea.

  She stuck her tongue out at him. He was only half joking. Though she ensured she stayed as clean as possible, the others had begun to notice that when it came time to bath or whip out their dicks to take a piss, Shea was always conspicuously absent. She found ways to take care of business later when no one was around. She’d been doing it so long that for the most part they chalked up her shyness to a Lowlander thing. They were beginning to push, though. The Trateri didn’t have the same body consciousness that Lowlanders did and often bathed in open showers or in streams.

  “I’m in no hurry to get a look at your damn dicks,” Shea told him.

  “But they’re such fine dicks, Shane.”

  “Fine they may be, but I prefer a little privacy in my bath.”

  “Why? Do you need a little alone time to jack off? You know if you use your hand too much it’ll just make what’s between your legs fall off.”

  “I think you might want to take your own advice, Buck. Maybe there’s a nice village girl somewhere out there who can give your nether regions a bit of attention.” Eamon grinned.

  Buck’s nose wrinkled in disgust, and his mouth pursed as if it had just bitten into something sour. “A Lowlander girl? Impossible. I’d break her in half. These Lowlanders are just too frail. If she got anywhere near my cock, she’d faint dead away.”

  “Wow,” Shea said shaking her head in disbelief. “That’s quite an ego you have there.”

  “It’s the truth. Lowlanders have twigs between their legs.” He shot her a sly grin. “Why else would you be afraid to shower with us?”

  “That’s it,” Shea said dryly. “That’s the reason right there.”

  The past month and a half had been an eye opening experience for Shea as she settled into the team. On the Hawkvale’s recommendation, Eamon had been given his own scouting team and made Shea his permanent second. She thought that might cause problems with new members who were older and thought they had more experience, but Buck was quick to set any newbie straight. He did that by beating them to a pulp the first time they challenged her authority. She reinforced it by ensuring that person got all the worst jobs like digging the trenches for waste.

  For reasons that were a mystery even to her, she hadn’t escaped after that first mission but had instead guided her team back to the base camp.

  Every night Shea had promised herself she would leave, but she put off her escape night after night as they got closer to camp. That last night she’d risen with every intention of leaving, but Eamon had woken as well, making it impossible to sneak off. She pretended that she needed to do a perimeter check. By the time Eamon settled into sleep, Buck was up and ready for his watch. The night continued like that until dawn arrived, and her chance was gone.

  Now, nearly a month and a half later she was still with them. Every time she thought about slipping away and heading home something stopped her. Camaraderie and companionship bound her to them more effectively than Fallon’s chains.

  Besides, what better place to hide out than under her enemy’s very nose? After her escape no one would ever think she would be dumb enough to return. If they were still searching for her, they’d focus on the roads to the north. Maybe even return to Goodwin of Ria to see if she went there. No, she felt pretty safe masquerading as a boy in Fallon’s own army.

  “When will we get there?” Cale, the expedition leader for the supply train, barked as he rode up beside them. Shea remembered him from Goodwin of Ria and was grateful he didn’t recognize her. He hadn’t given her a good feeling in the last meeting. He was well on his way to providing an even worse one on this encounter.

  He had a sharp beak for a nose and very pronounced eyebrows. He wasn’t soft, none of the Trateri were, but he was softer than the soldiers Shea was used to seeing, lacking that chiseled edge of lethality most carried. The only thing that saved him was the scar on his neck and his well-muscled body. Despite that scar, he would be considered handsome by most. For Shea, he seemed too put together. Despite being on the trail, he spent an hour every morning attending to his appearance.

  “We were supposed to arrive hours ago,” he said.

  Buck rolled his eyes where Cale couldn’t see him and mouthed the last sentence mockingly. Shea bit her lip and looked down trying to contain the smile threatening to break out. The man said something similar every time they got close to a village. They had come to expect it and could practically repeat the conversation verbatim now.

  “We’re closer to camp than you think. Probably just a day or two more,” Eamon said.

  Cale looked up at the ridgeline and sniffed. He’d already made the argument that they should just go over it and was shot down by Eamon courtesy of Shea. It was one of the reasons the trip was taking longer than expected. They had to detour around several hills to find land that could support a wagon.

  Despite Cale’s expectations, it wouldn’t have been faster to go over. The climb would take just as long because of the steep grade. Their breaks would have to double, and they’d most likely have had to leave the wagons and horses behind as the steepness meant they wouldn’t be able to make the climb.

  “Is there anything else?” Eamon tilted his head expectantly when Cale didn’t move.

  “I plan to bring your insubordination and general bad attitude to the attention of your superiors,” Cale said vehemently.

  “In that case, you’ll want to make sure your concerns are sent directly to Mathias. He’s the one who deals with issues of this nature. If you give it to Thomas or William, they’ll forget all about it as soon as you’re gone,” Buck told him helpfully.

  “You think this is funny?” Cale’s lips twisted angrily. “I’ve heard about you three and that your captain doesn’t think much of you. After I get done with you, you won’t be fit to wear the green. Maybe they’ll even put you on the frontlines with the rest of the throwaways.”

  “Sir, I’ll thank you not to threaten my men.” Eamon’s eyes had gone flinty. “I am the scout master for this expedition, and you agreed upon this route. If you have a problem, I will not stop you from raising your concerns with my superiors, but you will not speak to my men like that again.” His lips parted in a nasty smile. “They don’t like that, you see. Shane, there, has delicate feelings and when he’s out of sorts he makes mistakes. Don’t you, boy.”

  Shea startled and did her best to appear delicate, lowering her eyes before nodding slightly.

  Buck said seriously, or as seriously as he could with his lips twitching. “You never want your scout upset, sir. They might lead you into a jagger nest or a revenant’s den.”

  Cale gave them a look of disdain before pulling hard on his reins and riding back the way he’d come. Not many chanced pissing their scouts off for exactly the reasons Buck just explained. Out here in the wilderness there were few rules and it was terrifyingly simple to get away with murder. Beasts were so prevalent that either scenario would be plausible and unquestioned. Cale wasn’t all that intelligent to threaten them out in the open.

  “Gods save me from having deal with the lazy scut ever again,” Buck muttered.

  “Watch it, friend,” Eamon warned. “Lazy and useless he might be, but his brother is the most powerful man in the army.”

  Buck spat to the side. “Half-brother. Hawkvale would do well to force him to make his own way in the world rather than letting him ride on his coat tails.”

  “He’s related to Hawkvale?” She would never have guessed. The two couldn’t have been more different. They looked and acted nothing alike.

&
nbsp; “They’re half-brothers,” Phillip said, riding up.

  A new addition to the team, he was on his first mission with the three. Shea didn’t trust him. He asked too many questions and saw too much. She had to constantly be on her guard. Though he made her suspicious nature run rampant, he was also one of the best trackers she had ever seen.

  She could tell the other two weren’t sure of him either. They were polite, but there was none of the normal easy joking.

  “Either way, just watch yourself,” Eamon cautioned Buck, “You never know who is listening.”

  Both were careful not to look at Phillip, but it was clear they wanted to change the subject when Buck said, “What kind of expression was that, Shane?”

  “Hey! What the hell?” Shea raised a hand to her head. “I was trying to look delicate and frail.”

  Buck hooted and cackled. “Delicate? You looked like you were about to take a dump.”

  “I did not.”

  Eamon roared in laughter. “Yes. Yes, you did. I thought I was going to fall off my horse trying not to laugh.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shea muttered, spurring her horse to move faster. “That was my delicate look.”

  The two just roared louder as Shea cantered away. Rounding the bend, Shea shook her head. Something she had learned over the years, men could be immature regardless of age.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Whoa, halt.”

  “Again?” Phillip muttered, pulling on the reins.

  Shea stood in her stirrups, craning her head to see around the supply wagon in front of them. It was their turn to pull rear guard while Eamon and Buck scouted in front.

  “I’ll ride up and see what’s taking so long,” she told him.

  He nodded, frowning sourly. Her mood echoed his, though she was careful to keep her face neutral as she rode down the line looking for the reason for this most recent delay. It had been one obstacle after another for the past several days, and the men were getting impatient. Everyone wanted to reach the safety of camp, and the delays were making them careless.

  “What’s the hold up?” she barked as she rode up to several men gathered at the back of one of the wagons.

  “Wheel’s stuck,” a man with a crooked nose said crossly, gesturing at the wheel in question.

  Cale rode up, his expression darkening as he caught sight of her. “Why are we stopped?”

  The glare he shot her said he blamed her for this delay. She met him with a stony look of her own.

  “Wheel’s stuck,” the man said again.

  “Well, how long will that take?”

  “No idea. It takes as long as it takes.”

  “Hurry it up,” Cale said crossly.

  “It’ll take as long as it takes,” the man enunciated clearly. “If you want it to go faster, get down here and help us dig it out.”

  “Just do your job.” Cale whirled his horse and cantered back to the front.

  Shea and the man watched him go with similar looks of disgust.

  “I’m impressed,” she told him.

  “I wasn’t always a softie.” He held up one mangled hand curled into a twisted claw.

  Shea winced, the question of what happened forming in her mind but remaining unspoken.

  “Got smashed when a horse trampled it,” he said with a self-deprecating grimace. “After that, I wasn’t fit to serve on the lines or in the scouts so they sent me to collect tithes with all the other sluggards.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “Could be dead or cast out for being dead weight.”

  “Cast out?”

  “They do that sometimes when you’re no longer a productive member of the clan.” He gave her a gap toothed grin when he saw the horrified look on her face. “They don’t do that so much anymore, not since Hawkvale took charge. Now, they just send you to units like these where you can help but not be a burden to anyone.” A distant look came over his face. “I don’t know which is worse.”

  He shook himself and turned to examine the stuck wagon. It had veered off the path and wedged itself against a couple of rocks. One wheel was wedged deep into the mud while the other was spinning idly in the air.

  “Do you need some help? I can push,” Shea offered.

  He snorted. “Your scrawny body would just get in the way, scout. You just concentrate on finding the best path out of here.”

  She smiled shyly at him. “I’ll do my best.”

  Turning to the men staring at the stuck wagon, he roared, “Alright you slack abouts, I want this wheel dug out in the next thirty minutes, and then you’d better be prepared to push this back onto the road. Next time you veer off the path, you’ll answer to me.”

  A deep war cry filled the air in response.

  Shea rode down the line to Phillip and informed him of the holdup. He squinted at the sky, the sun sinking lower and lower by the minute, and sighed.

  “We’ll probably be making camp here.”

  Shea protested. “Once it’s on the road, we can make several more miles before dark.”

  “If you say so.” The expression on his face said he didn’t hold out a lot of hope and was just humoring her. Phillip dismounted. “We might as well stretch our legs while we wait.”

  Seeing the sense in those words, she swung her leg over and hopped down, letting the reins dangle to the ground. Trateri horses were well trained, and it wouldn’t run off unless she called for it. She stepped away, twisting this way and that to stretch out her back. Down the line, others dismounted as well with the same purpose. It seemed no one held much hope that this would be a short delay.

  Two hours later Shea had just won her third game of Bones.

  “Looks like it’s time to move,” Phillip observed as men began heading towards their horses.

  Her current opponent groaned. “I was just about to beat him.”

  “Ha,” his friend snorted. “He’s trounced you every time you’ve played. You’d think you were tired of losing by now.”

  “I was just about to unleash my secret strategy.”

  “I’ll look forward to this ‘secret’ strategy next time,” Shea teased. “In the meantime be sure to do my chores when we stop for the night. Oh, and I’ll make sure to get that piece of jerky from you when we make camp.”

  “We won’t be traveling long,” Phillip said as he prepared his horse for travel. “Just far enough to find a decently defensible campsite.”

  “Fine with me. Every little bit of distance means we’re that much closer to camp.”

  “Not a fan of the warlord’s brother, are you?”

  Shea was silent as she waited for the caravan to move. It could take a while yet. They probably should have waited a few minutes before getting back on line because it was the same old story every time. Everybody rushed to mount and then waited and waited for the person in front of them to go.

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Shea finally said. “Just prefer to be on missions that have fewer people is all.”

  “Oh?” It was a clear invitation to continue.

  The caravan began moving again, and Shea was saved from answering. Phillip was always poking and prodding, trying to get people to say more than they should. For someone like Shea, who preferred to keep her own council, it was an uncomfortable experience every time he started asking questions.

  When it was clear she had no intention of answering, he said, “Is it the people you don’t like or is it collecting tithes from the villages?”

  Shea shot him a glance. So that was what he was after. He gave every semblance of being uninterested in her answer as he kept his attention on examining the hills.

  “Is that what you think?” she finally asked. “That I care about the villagers? That maybe I’ll lead everybody into a trap as revenge.”

  He shrugged. “It does seem odd that you have no qualms about working with the people responsible for conquering your land.”

  Logical assumption. If this was her land.<
br />
  “Hmm. How many villages have you visited?”

  He frowned. “Just these three.”

  She gave a cold smile. “So you have no real idea of what the people of this land are like, then.”

  “What does that have to do with it?”

  “Everything. What is it your people call people like me? Throwaways, wasn’t it?”

  “I doubt your loyalty is so fleeting as to be destroyed by a single act of self-preservation,” he responded.

  “You know me that well?” Shea said. “Well, how about this? Do you know what these people do to keep the beasts from their door?

  He didn’t answer.

  “They sacrifice men and women, often times even children, to give themselves a few more days of safety.” Her laugh was low and ugly and utterly devoid of humor. “Can you believe that? Ignorant savages think spilling blood can protect them.” The humor dropped from her face. “It’s what attracts them. The ironic part is that if they just shared information they might figure out how useless such acts are. But, no, everyone in this fucked up land hates everyone else. The only people you can trust are those that you grew up with. Everyone else is just an outsider. So they bury their heads and pretend they’re safe if they just stay behind their fences and walls.”

  “You speak as if you aren’t one of them.”

  Shea closed her eyes briefly. There would be a reason for that. She hadn’t meant to say so much, especially not so revealingly, but once she’d started everything else had just come pouring out.

  “Well, I’m a throwaway aren’t I?” She gave him a crooked grin. “I don’t really have a people anymore.”

  After that, they both kept their own council until the group stopped for the night.

  It was freezing when Shea woke, much more so than usual. Though temperatures in the hills tended to drop sharply at night, this wasn’t normal. Her breath created a plume of mist. There was a brittle cracking of frost as she sat up in her blankets.

  She shivered sharply and stared down at the rim of white coating every inch of her blanket. She looked over the camp, noting with numb disbelief frost blanketing every still form. Even the wagons had a light coating of silver, and the horses looked like they had been doused with flour. Several had lain down. Their sides barely moved.