by Wylie, Jen
"Aro! Sit still," Sammy jerked her back into place by her hair.
"Ow! You idiot! That hurt!"
Paul slammed his fist on the table. "Stop. Now." He looked at her. "We're leaving the city. We will be traveling and it will be easier if you're a boy. Understand?"
Her mouth opened and closed again. Everything he said was too much to take in. While her mind tried to figure out what was going on, Sammy started hacking away at her waist-length hair.
Once the first locks fell she gave up. Clenching her teeth, she tried to keep the tears away.
"I'm sorry," Sammy whispered.
She raised her chin. "Go rot."
By the time he was done her head felt funny. Sammy hadn't cut it very short, some pieces fell almost to her shoulders. Others hung around her ears and over her eyes. By the way her brothers wouldn't look at her, she figured he'd done a rather terrible job. She glared at Sammy, she'd get him back. Yes, she would.
She fingered her hair and made a face. "Gah."
Paul frowned over at her. "You're not five."
He always said that, so had father. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them away.
"Go get dressed now," Paul said quietly.
Pressing her lips tightly together, she nodded. She'd have been angrier, but knew he hadn't done it out of spite. "How long do we have?"
Paul shook his head. "I don't know yet. Don't take too long."
She looked at Sammy, but he was avoiding her. Picking up the pile of clothes she headed up the stairs without a word.
Once in her room, she tossed the pile on the bed and started rifling through it. Everything was old and smelled musty. Castoffs from when the boys had first joined the army. She slipped off her nightdress and into the old clothes. The pants were too big, but no surprise there. With a grumble she went back downstairs. "This isn't going to work."
Paul actually chuckled. Sammy had gone off somewhere, but Ryan and Danny had returned. They stared at her and then looked to Paul. "What did you do?"
She reached up to touch her hair and her pants almost fell down. The boys started laughing and she glared at them. "This wasn't my idea! Now fix it!"
Ryan ran upstairs and brought her a belt, while Danny rolled up her pants and gave her a pair of boots. By the time her clothes were mostly staying in place Sammy came back in from the side door, arms full once more.
"Now what?"
The pile he dumped on the table made her smile this time though. Armor and weapons. She ran her finger gingerly along the blade of the nearest knife and grinned up at her brothers. "I forgive you."
Danny and Ryan sorted through the pile and fitted her out, cursing under their breaths as they tried to adjust everything to fit her. She smiled over at Sammy, her hands on her knives. At least he'd brought them for her and she was allowed to wear them out.
Everyone froze at the deep resonating bell sounding through the city. She gripped her knives tightly and looked to Paul, hoping he'd have another explanation than the one in her head.
"The port is under attack," he said, answering her unasked question.
She looked down, trying to push the sudden fear away and wondering where the Gelanians had gotten boats, or who they'd allied with.
"We need to move. Sammy check on Elliott and Joel. Danny see if you can find Aaron."
"Where'd he go?"
Paul started gathering up all his papers quickly and packing them into a leather pouch.
"He went to see what the word was," Ryan answered. He lowered his voice. "We're heading out shortly. If there is anything you want to take, there's a little room."
Aro nodded and darted up the stairs to her room. What to take? She knew better than to try to drag down a bag full of stuff. Little things. The most important things. She went straight to the small carved box on her dresser. It wasn't large or heavy, but held her most valued possessions. Well other than her weapons. She glanced around the room, checking to see if there was anything else. Seeing nothing she had to have, she ran back downstairs and handed the box to Ryan.
"That's it?"
She nodded, feeling rather proud of herself, and watched him open it. He lifted the small pile of letters from Father, noted the few bits of jewelry that had belonged to a mother she didn't remember, and a few other small odds and ends. He smiled and closed the box.
"Good girl." He ruffled her hair and winced, then patted her head awkwardly.
With a scowl she tried to smooth her hair back down. She hadn't thought to look in the mirror upstairs to see how bad a job Sammy had done. Maybe that was a good thing. "Can I bring my bow?"
Ryan chuckled and shook his head. "We'll be moving fast, so no."
"What about my sword?"
"You'll do fine with your knives. There shouldn't be any fighting, if there is, keep close to us and do what you're told."
She nodded, not taking offense at his words. Disobeying could get her killed, she'd heard enough stories about such things.
Raised voices by the side door caused them both to turn. Raising her eyebrows she followed Ryan into the kitchen area.
Elliott, Joel and Sammy were back but standing off to the side. Paul stood with his hands on his hips while Aaron glared at him. Sammy stood beside him, hovering and unsure what to do.
"We don't have time," Paul snapped. "We should have left last night."
Aro looked up at Ryan in alarm. "Why didn't we?"
Everyone heard her. With a frown at Aaron, Paul answered. "Plans needed to be made, and there were..." he paused and looked at the other boys, "things that needed to be dealt with first."
Aaron's cheeks were flushed, and he only did that when someone talked about his girlfriends. Apparently all her brothers were saying goodbye to their lady friends the night before. Somehow she held in an irritated sigh. "So what's the problem now?"
Aaron shook his head, lips tight.
Paul sighed. "If she's smart she listened to you last night and left with Marin and the others."
She blinked in surprise. "They've all left? The others?"
Paul nodded. "Last night with their families."
Marin was another brother, though not of blood. Father had taken in a handful of young soldiers over the years, orphans or those otherwise abandoned by their families. Mostly they were troubled first years, just sixteen years old at the time. He brought them into their home and into their family. Each had adjusted quickly and straightened out, growing up to become wonderful young men. The last had moved out before father had died, two had died in the war, but those left still kept in touch. Her thoughts turned to her father's last letter. He had mentioned a new boy he was going to bring home. But there had been a great battle at the pass. Father had died and the new boy had disappeared.
"Grab the gear. We need to get moving."
Her brothers jumped into motion.
"Wait!" She held out her arm, her hand a fist.
A moment later her brothers joined her in a circle, tapping their fists on hers to build a tower. "Masons! Together. Always."
Suddenly laughing, they each fought to get their fist on top. She hadn't realized how tense everyone had been until she saw them relaxed and grinning like fools. Joel and Sammy accidentally bumped heads and then a friendly scuffle ensued.
Ryan swung an arm around her shoulder. "Come on, Honey Bee. Time to buzz."
The boys hustled about, pulling on packs and strapping on weapons. Before she knew what was happening they were heading out the door. She wasn't prepared for the havoc of the streets. People and riders ran every which way. The screaming made her cringe and the blighted bells were so much louder outside she wanted to stick her fingers in her ears.
A hand at her back directed her down a side street heading toward the north side of the city. It looked like they were headed beyond the mountains to Dressan. They marched through the streets, people making way for them. It was strange the way her brothers circled her, like some rotting noble surrounded by guards.
Elliott
glanced over at her. "I hope we didn't make a mistake keeping her with us," he quietly said to Paul.
Her oldest brother shook his head. "The others will be slowed down by the children. We'll protect her better."
"I don't like us separating," Elliott muttered.
"We'll meet up with them in the mountains as planned."
Aro glanced up at Paul. Noting the fierceness on his face, she kept her mouth closed and pretended she hadn't heard the conversation. Her heart hammered away in her chest. She kept a hand on one of her knives. The familiar hilt brought her a little comfort.
The bells were driving her insane. When the ones at the wall suddenly stopped she almost walked into Elliott's back. Her brothers stood in silence. She didn't know what they were waiting for until she heard the ringing of the market bells above the deeper port bells.
Paul ran a hand through his short dark hair and cursed. He pointed, swinging a finger to Elliott and Ryan. "Check it out." They dropped their packs and took off at jog through the streets. Aaron grabbed their packs as Paul gestured them all into a side street.
Frantic citizens continued to run and scream. Where were they were running to, the palace?
Her brothers stood quiet and alert, listening and muttering amongst themselves. She heard some people shouting there were a hundred Gelanian ships in the harbor. She snorted at that. The Gelanians had hardly any ships, and those only small trading and fishing vessels.
A little later others started shouting about the Frans. Paul cursed loudly and she echoed his sentiment with more than a little alarm. Everyone knew about the Frans. They lived across the sea on the eastern continent. They were criminals and slavers who attacked not only ships at sea, but also the coastal northern countries. They would have enough ships to launch a sea attack. Had the Gelanians allied with them? It was hard to tell, all the people were panicked and rumors were spreading like wild fire.
Elliott and Ryan returned at a run.
Paul didn't even let them catch their breath. "What's the word?"
"The wall's being swarmed," Ryan said.
"Remember those strange soldiers we saw a few days ago?" Paul nodded at Elliott. "You were right, they aren't Gelanians. Looks like they hired mercenaries."
"How many?"
"Three or four thousand."
"The walls won't hold. We don't have enough men to cover it and the port."
"The port is under attack?"
Paul grimaced and nodded. "Looks like they're quite serious this time."
"The commander was asking about us. I told him we're at the port," Elliott said.
"Good enough," Paul answered. He didn't look happy and Aro didn't blame him.
Were they supposed to be at the walls? Of course they were. They were the countries best soldiers. Guilt flooded her. They'd abandoned their posts. For her. Would the city fall because her brothers weren't on the walls? Because they were helping her escape? Emotions bubbled up inside of her and she clenched her teeth. Yes, she wanted out of the city and safe, but not at the price of others losing their lives.
Sammy cocked his head to the side. "Now what?"
Paul stared off down the street. "We still try for the north gate."
They started off again, this time moving more quickly. The city had only two walls, the main west wall, and a shorter north one that then butted up to cliffs. The southern side of the city was built up to the mountains as well, and the east held more cliffs and then the harbor. The city was naturally well protected, but the sea and cliffs made the number of escape routes a lot smaller. She assumed their current goal was the smaller north gate near the cliffs.
She found it hard to make sense of anything as they ran through the streets. Between the people and the bells everything was utter confusion. Keeping close to her brothers she tried not to panic even when shouts the wall had been breached started to echo down the streets. They would be fine. The gate they headed for was near the middle of the city, not close to the main wall under attack.
The gate finally came into view and a great sigh of relief whooshed out of her. Soon they'd be out and hopefully her heart would dislodge itself from her throat.
The arrows whizzed by, clattering on the stone of the street around her. One of her brothers cursed, but she couldn't tell which one. She dropped into a crouch. An arm pressed over her back as she glanced over at Sammy.
His eyes were wide but he tried to smile. It didn't really work. "Stay down, Aro."
She nodded and looked forward. "Wither me," she gasped. The north wall crawled with men, but not just theirs. More appeared, coming up ladders braced against the wall. She watched the fighting on the walls in fascinated horror. All of her years of lessons hadn't prepared her for the ferocity and blood of true fighting. Kingsport soldiers fought valiantly, but quickly became overwhelmed. Bodies toppled off walls as enemy archers continued to fire into the city.
She stumbled as Sammy grabbed her arm and they all took off running down another side street. Glancing back once, she saw the small north gate literally break open from mounted soldiers pouring through.
"Next plan," Paul hollered over his shoulder. "Ashton's."
She had no idea who Ashton was, but further into the city a number of nobles had land bordering the cliffs. Perhaps this Ashton had an escape route.
The streets were finally cleared of civilians. The odd soldier could be seen running by, carrying messages or other such errands. They ran, keeping close to buildings as they moved from one street to another in the direction of the harbor.
The sound of fighting ahead slowed their progress.
"We're almost there," Paul said, gesturing for them to keep following. They reached the intersection of Baker and Counter streets. The fighting had somehow gotten ahead of them. Perhaps those attacking the harbor had docked and come ashore to fight.
Paul stopped and turned, drawing his sword. "Straight through. Two by two. Watch your backs. Keep Aro in the center." He looked over at her. "You're with me."
Before she could say anything, her brothers ran out into the street in pairs, fighting to clear a path for them. She drew her knives and followed Paul, sticking as close to him as she could.
Men fought all around her, yelling, screaming, and cursing. Blood sprayed, covering the stones of the street as bodies fell. She gritted her teeth and paid attention to the living. Luckily, their soldiers all wore the same general uniform under their leather armor. More enemy ran into the intersection from another street, jumping into the fight and engaging her brothers.
The clanging of swords and sounds of fighting grew louder, almost drowning out the bells. All her years of practice with her brothers kept her alive as she ducked and dodged around friend and foe. Blood splattered her face and hands. Skipping to the side, a sword slid across her armor, cutting it but not her skin.
She tried to keep an eye on her brothers, but everything moved so quickly she kept losing track of them. Bodies littering the street and growing puddles of blood began to make fighting more difficult. Twisting around, she scanned for more enemies.
An arrow bounced off of Paul's back and she wheeled around, looking for the shooter. He was far down one of the side streets, but there were more advancing behind him. "Archers coming!"
Paul turned and grimaced. "Regroup!"
She followed, jumping over bodies as Paul led them toward the far street. Half a dozen enemies turned a corner ahead and ran toward them. Paul raised a hand and she skidded to a stop behind him.
Her brothers gathered around her and she did a quick head count. Everyone was there, and no one looked to have anything more than a few scratches.
Sammy grinned over at her. "Doing good, sister."
She blinked at him, trying to catch her breath, and then grinned back.
Paul pointed his bloody sword at the men running toward them. "Masons, forward!"
Chapter 2
Waking up in Fun Places
Her eyes opened to darkness.
She wasn't
surprised. When bad things happened and you finally opened your eyes it was always dark wasn't it? Because otherwise when you woke up you wouldn't be scared, not right away, not until you remembered. Yet in darkness nothing else could be seen but the memories of what had happened, it didn't matter if you opened your eyes or kept them squeezed closed.
What happened…
She closed her eyes again, not against the memories, but the sudden tears and choking sobs. Still, she tried to not remember, but her head hurt. All of her hurt, but her head hurt the worst. She'd been hit by something, very hard. She had no trouble remembering the pain. She remembered falling to the ground, her brothers screaming her name over the insane loudness of the fighting and everything fading to nothing as darkness claimed her.
She sucked in a deep breath. The fighting. Yes, the city had been attacked. The walls had been breached. There had been fighting in the streets. She had been fighting. Her brothers had been trying to get her out. They had been so close. Had they?
She shifted and froze, terror creeping up her throat and choking her at the same time until nothing but a strangled gurgle came out.
They had not.
She knew because she felt the cold metal shackles around each wrist, felt the weight of the chain between them. The same fetters bound her ankles. Dirty straw prickled her cheek and the other smells of her surroundings overcame her. They overwhelmed her and made her gag. The rank scents of piss, shit and vomit almost covered the stale reek of sweat and the tang of salt.
Salt.
She'd thought her head had just been spinning, but no, everything moved, lurching and swaying. She was at sea.
At sea in chains meant only one thing. The rumors had been true. The Gelanians had allied with the Franuan Slavers. Beneath the combined attack, Kingsport had fallen and the Frans had taken their cut, citizens to sell as slaves. She was a slave.
Well that sucks.
The idea terrified her, and left her cold and shaking. Squeezing her eyes closed, she fought to push away the horrifying images suddenly assaulting her. Breathing slowly helped a little. The shaking stopped and finally she could breathe again.
