"Clean him up, hire him for some work around my home, then grant him his freedom." She rose. "I could use an extra pair of hands for a few weeks."
He shook his head. "You watch yourself, Nova. You know nothing about this man or his character. Judging from his earlier behavior, he could be dangerous."
She couldn't help but laugh and she nudged him with her elbow. "You're a fine one to talk. I knew nothing about your character either but that didn't stop me from pulling you out of a trough when that innkeeper in Lanaise tried to drown you."
"And I'll wager you've regretted it a time or two since." He smiled at the memory.
"That's an understatement."
Bran was probably the only person in the world she would even think to call a friend. Their paths had crossed frequently as they'd traveled all over the country. With their common goals of gambling and amassing their fortunes, they'd made a good pair, though she'd always suspected he'd come from money to begin with. Being born into a moneyed family always left a mark like brown hair or green eyes.
"Shall we get your new hired hand out of here?"
She wrinkled her nose at their fragrant surroundings. "Yes, please."
Taking note of Kelwyn's deep abrasions from the iron cuffs that now lay on the floor, she grabbed one hand while Bran took the other. As they pulled him toward the door, she couldn't help but notice his skin was very warm and his fingers were callused. Obviously he was a man who'd been used to physical labor before being caged like an animal.
When they reached the door, Nova leapt out and took several deep breaths of the sweet fresh air, willing the stench away. The scent of human waste and rotted food always brought back memories of her own enslavement. She shook away her dark thoughts to maneuver the cart closer to the door of the wagon. Together they lifted him, with Bran supporting most of his weight, and transported him the few feet into the clean hay in the back of her cart. Once he was settled, she offered her thanks to Bran.
"You've done me a great service, my friend," she said. "You know where to find me?"
"Indeed I do." Bran tweaked her braid. "Be mindful of your surroundings, Nova. Perhaps I will see you soon."
"And you, my friend, be mindful as well."
He retrieved his torch and, with a wave, headed for the front entrance of the gaming hall as the stable master returned out of breath. He carried a pile of blankets as well as a heavy black cloak. Behind him were two sleepy-eyed kitchen girls, each bearing overflowing baskets of provisions.
Taking charge of the blankets, Nova and the women carefully bundled the unconscious man before placing the cloak over the top. While she hated putting clean blankets against his filthy body, she had no choice in the matter. Once he was up and about he'd be able to wash himself and they could burn the blanket lying closest to his skin. After seeing to his comfort and stowing the baskets, she showed her appreciation by giving the girls a few extra silver coins.
Thanks to the addition of her new companion, her journey would be lengthened by at least a day, but that couldn't be helped. Until she was sure of his physical condition, she'd have to take rest breaks every couple of hours or so just to see to his comfort.
She looked at Kelwyn, unconscious in his slumber. She couldn't bear the thought of leaving him in this condition and in the hands of a master such as Evi. She shuddered. While enslaved, the number of times she'd wished someone would rescue her were countless. In the end she'd had to rescue herself.
Besides, she could afford an extra day on the road. It wasn't as if anyone or anything awaited her at the end of her journey. Just an empty wreck of a house and a hidden bag of gold coins and neither would object to her late arrival.
Climbing onto the narrow seat, she picked up the reins and gave them a jiggle. As the first rays of sunlight kissed the horizon, the cart moved forward with a jerk.
Nova was going home.
CHAPTER TWO
Consciousness slammed into his skull with the delicacy of a hammer.
Wyn sat up so fast he thought his head would explode. Stifling a groan, he gripped the side of the cart and eased back into the hay. Bile burned his throat and he concentrated on not throwing up or passing out. After a few moments, the nausea receded and he dared to open his eyes.
Angry gray clouds churned overhead, allowing only a few tiny beams of sunlight to slip through. Amazed that he could even see the sky above, he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with fresh air. He wanted to weep at the sweetness of its scent. It had been so long since he'd breathed something other than filth and decay that he couldn't get enough of its clean bouquet. He gulped in air until his head buzzed and he was sure this wasn't a dream.
Slower this time, he levered himself upright, alert to any signs of the pain and nausea that had assailed him only minutes before. Satisfied he wouldn't pass out, he raised his hand to his face only to realize he was no longer chained. Shocked, he stared at his damaged wrists where the iron cuffs had rubbed them raw. Scabs were already forming over the injuries and they looked sore and angry. He inspected his other wrist to see it was in the same condition. All he needed was several days in the sea and he'd be fully healed.
He frowned. What had transpired to convince Evi to give him up?
Images flashed through his mind. The door opening, people standing outside, peering in at him, one holding a torch high to ensure a good look. And then the rage. The fury that had swept through him when he saw Evi standing next to the beautiful dark-haired woman had almost brought him to his knees.
He rubbed his forehead where it felt like it would split in two. He'd never seen her before, he was sure of it. Who was she and why had she been with a monster like Evi? Was she one of his kind? A slaver?
The wagon hit something in the road, causing pain to ricochet through his skull, and he gritted his teeth against the resulting wave of nausea. He closed his eyes and willed his stomach to settle.
Gathering strength, he turned his head until he saw the slim figure on the wagon seat above. Concealed in a bulky cloak with the hood pulled up, he couldn't tell if it was a man or woman. He caught the distinctive tang of Alyrian pipe tobacco, which probably meant the driver was a man. Who'd ever heard of a woman smoking a pipe? Whoever he was, he wasn't very big and it would only take a matter of seconds to overtake him...When Wyn got the energy to do so, that is.
With his head aching, he pulled the blankets up to his shoulders and burrowed into the warmth of his cocoon. For now, he was more than content to enjoy the brief luxury of clean hay and fresh air. There would be time enough to find out how he'd ended up in the back of this little cart rather than chained in the wagon.
For now he could just...be.
Wyn pulled his right arm from beneath the blankets and grimaced when he saw the layer of dirt and dried blood that coated his skin. His nails were blackened with grime and his knuckles were battered. Spreading his fingers, he examined the thin gossamer skin that webbed his hand from the first knuckle down to his palm. Barely noticeable to the human eye, the webbing served no purpose on land, though in the sea it enabled his kind to move like lightning across the sky.
His fist clenched and he let his arm drop to his side. This webbing and that between his toes had marked him as different from humans. It, along with his own stupidity, had resulted in his capture and subsequent enslavement a year ago.
But now he was free, or away from his tormentors at least.
He closed his eyes. He knew he should get up, overpower his driver and steal off with the cart, but he didn't have the energy to do so. The comforting rocking sensation of the wagon (when they weren't hitting the bumps, that is), combined with the rich scent of pipe smoke and freshly baked bread--
Bread?
His stomach gave a loud growl and he shot a look up at the driver. If he'd heard, he gave no indication as neither his position nor his speed changed. Releasing a pent-up breath, Wyn looked under the shelf created by the wagon seat. There were two baskets and a large leather satchel secure
d there. Propping himself on one elbow, he pushed back the cloth covering the nearest basket and a myriad of tantalizing scents rose from its depths. If his nose didn't deceive him, it was filled with food and a goodly amount at that.
Keeping his gaze glued on the driver's back, he pawed through the basket until he came to a wedge of something he thought was cheese and hunk of coarse brown bread. Desperately hungry, he stuffed the food into his mouth as quickly as he could. The nutty flavor of the bread blended with the sharp tang of the cheddar and he wanted to sing with happiness. Never had such simple fare tasted so good.
After he had finished his snack, he reached in again and located a large chunk of cooked sausage wrapped in greasy paper. He bit into it and the combined flavors of pork and sage burst across his tongue. Chewing as fast as he could, he devoured the hunk of meat.
When he finished, he rummaged once more until he pulled out something soft that was wrapped in thin waxy paper. He unwrapped it and held it to his nose. Pastry? He bit into it and this time he did groan as the flavor of ripe raspberries exploded in his mouth. The flaky tart was plump with fruit and walnuts and liberally sweetened with honey. He polished off the pastry and longed to lick his fingers clean, but stopped himself at the last second, remembering their filthy state. He opted to wipe his hands on his equally dirty shirt--or what was left of it.
Replete for the first time in many moon cycles, Wyn was content. He curled up in his hay and blanket cocoon and closed his eyes. When the wagon stopped, he would assert his will over the driver, but until then his full belly was making him sleepy.
Finally, his luck had changed.
* * *
Nova couldn't prevent a grin when she heard the soft snore from the bed of the cart. She'd known her companion had been awake for the past hour or so but she'd opted to say nothing. Instead she'd pulled out her pipe and lit it, preferring to enjoy a smoke as she'd waited for him to make the first move. He'd surprised her. Judging from his earlier aggression, she'd thought for sure he'd make his presence known immediately. Instead he'd opted to gorge himself and go back to sleep.
Typical.
A rumble of thunder turned her attention to the clouds that roiled overhead. They'd grown angrier with each passing hour. The sun had risen many hours before, but rather than getting brighter as the day had progressed, it had grown darker with the approaching storm. Time for the nooning meal had long since passed and the wind was picking up from the west, the breeze thick with the scent of coming rain. Inclement weather or not, it wasn't time to stop for a break, especially since she knew they were being followed.
She took a final drag on her pipe. There was no doubt in her mind that it was Evi or his men. Seeing that there were only two of them on horseback, she'd guess it was his men as Evi had been quite put out at losing. She grimaced. The man was a fool. The first rule of gambling was to never bet more than one could stand to lose. She'd learned that the hard way. It was obvious to her that he hadn't wanted to lose this so-called servant of his. No doubt he thought he could reclaim him with little struggle from her.
He was sadly mistaken.
Nova tapped out the dying embers from her pipe before stowing it in her pocket. As she did so, she glanced over her shoulder at the long bumpy road they'd just covered. In the distance she could see the two riders. They traveled at a pace to match hers and didn't appear to be in any hurry to overtake her. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Considering a horse alone was much faster than her little cart, their behavior was suspicious.
She faced forward and gave the reins a jiggle, causing the brown mare to pick up her pace. Ahead the road stretched flat and wide for another mile or so and beyond that the woods closed in. In the stretch of dense trees and undergrowth, losing her unwanted companions would be no problem. There were numerous paths branching off the main one and it would be easy to slip through any of the villages and leave them far behind.
She glanced over her shoulder at the man still sleeping in the bed of the cart, though she could see little more than matted hair and the tip of his nose. "I hope you're worth the trouble," she muttered.
The last thing she wanted was to slow her journey home, but she couldn't lead these men right to her doorstep. She wouldn't be safe nor would her companion. Besides, she was determined that nothing of her former life would intrude upon the new one she was about to create.
Nothing.
CHAPTER THREE
The first drops of rain landed on the back of Nova's hands as they reached the woods. Muttering curses strong enough to singe hair, she ducked under a low hanging branch as she urged the horse faster. Spying a large root sticking up in the middle of the road, she braced her feet beneath the footrest seconds before the wheels of the cart made contact hard enough to lift her off the seat several inches. Behind her, she heard her companion stir.
"God's teeth, do you think to kill us?" he roared.
Her grip tightened on the reins as they tore down the path. "If I'd wanted you dead, you'd be cold by now," she shouted.
"And we'll both be cold soon enough if you keep up this pace," he said.
"Criticizing me is helping so much, thanks." Her words dripped with sarcasm. "Look behind us. What do you see?"
There was a slight pause.
"Two men on horseback. Why are we being followed?"
"You would know better than I."
He muttered something unpleasant.
"My feelings exactly. So why don't you help by shutting up and letting me concentrate?" She ground her teeth in near frustration as her hood slid back and a drop of rain struck her in the eye. How was it rain managed that maneuver even when she squinted?
"Do you know where you're going?" His voice sounded close to her ear and she jerked in reaction. The man had risen to his knees and his big hands were curled over the edge of her seat. He was so close his chin could have rested on her shoulder.
"We can lose them on one of the side roads. The rain is hard enough to destroy our tracks." She ducked as a broken tree limb threatened to remove her head from her shoulders.
"Careful now."
Broad arms slid around her waist, anchoring her to both him and the seat. For a split second she thought about grabbing her dagger and giving him what for, but decided against it when the wagon hit another bump and threw her against his muscular arm. She'd have flown off the seat if it weren't for him anchoring her. Forcing herself to relax and accept his help, she decided to concentrate on driving and deal with him later.
As they continued their headlong race through the woods not a word was spoken. The thud of hooves and the racket of wheels punctuated their haste. Soon the deepening darkness and muddy track hampered their progress. She could barely see more than a few feet ahead of the horse's muzzle. She was forced to slow even more as the path grew muddier with every step.
Alongside the road she caught sight of an ancient elm with a large abrasion on the north side. She knew that tree, and more importantly, what lay beyond it. She pulled hard on the reins.
"We turn here!" she shouted against the rising wind. "We're close to the ruins of an old monastery and we can bed down there for the night. We should be safe enough."
"Do you think they'll know about it?"
"I doubt it. Only the locals know it even exists and they won't venture there. It burned centuries ago and should be empty." She shot a grin over her shoulder. "It's said to be haunted."
His face was a pale oval shrouded by wet matted hair. He grinned and white teeth flashed against the grime on his face. "Sounds like the place for us."
She tugged to the right and the horse turned onto a narrow path. It was so overgrown it looked as if no one had set foot on it for years. In several places tree limbs and overgrown brush scraped the sides of the cart and they had to duck to avoid low tree branches.
Nova released a sigh of relief when the moss-covered walls of the abbey loomed out of the darkness. She pulled the horse to a stop and, without a word, she and her traveli
ng companion climbed out of the cart. She stretched, then groaned, as her body, cramped from the long ride, was forced into action. Bracing a stiff hand at the small of her back, she painfully approached the structure she remembered so well from childhood.
The main building of the abbey compound was a squat gray stone structure that bore scant evidence of the inferno that had killed many of the monks who'd lived there. Much to their mother's dismay, she and her sister, Dani, had found a human skull while playing in the area of the chapel. Her family had spent a quiet season here and she remembered it as one of the few peaceful times in her childhood. Only a few months later, her mother was dead and her family on the run from the Peacekeepers.
Nova stepped through an arched doorway and into what had once served as the living quarters for the monks. The west end of the building sported the only section that retained a roof and it was still intact. Several large timbers were jammed into place to brace the sagging overhead supports. No doubt an addition from visiting travelers.
The debris that had once occupied the center of the building had been cleared. The stone floor was cracked in several places and thick patches of weeds grew through the openings. She came to a halt when she found a small tree growing in the middle of what had been the dining hall.
Life did move on.
She ventured into the area covered by the narrow slice of roof. The space was dry and a mixture of hay and summer grasses covered the stone floor. The fireplace had caved in, and in the far corner someone had constructed a fire ring with a hole in the roof directly above it for the smoke to escape. Near the ring was a pile of dry wood and tinder. No doubt the visitors who'd used the place over the years had left it behind.
There was plenty of room for them and the horse to bed down for the night. The cart would have to stay outside and the rain would ruin the hay, but there was nothing she could do about that. Hay could be replaced easily enough and she wasn't going to waste time worrying about it. Now she just had to find her companion and they could get settled--
PARADOX II Page 12
