His head turned to the right, not far enough to look, but a message all the same.
“Now,” he whispered, more a sound than a word.
Slowly I rose to a crouch, trying weight on my throbbing ankle. Danior faced forward again, watching the distance. I paused a moment longer, staring at the back of his head and deciding what he deserved.
Gratitude. Bitterness. They rose in equal measure.
Still, there was sadness. A pinch of grief. And pity.
A voice called out from the river path.
I secured my weapons and ran into the darkness without another look.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ERIS
Nehemiah never explained why we weren’t to tread north, but the rule was enforced without grace. No exceptions. Not even Danior was saved from punishment.
I rushed on, scrambling up hillsides. Slipping over mud and loose soil. The terrain changed frequently, treacherous and unforgiving. Different from the flattened paths I was used to, where the ground was worn down by years of stamping. This land was wild, dense with trees and overgrown with thorny shrubs. A great barrier between the drifters and what lay beyond.
An hour passed without event. Birds warbled from high branches, and I fixed on their sounds, listening for changes in tone. For warnings. If not for anxiety knotting in my chest, I might have even enjoyed the solitude. I could have stayed there, living among the beasts and never stepping into the open again. But whatever his faults, Nehemiah’s threats concerning the woods couldn’t have been unfounded.
A fresh wave of sorrow cut through me, expanding in the hollow of my chest. Was I so wretched? Were Sithians as terrible as they said?
My mother was. As was the master. And King Dreonine was the worst of all, commissioning sorcerers to lord over his kingdom. Stealing children for trade.
I set my jaw, narrowing my eyes. Omarians were no better. Nehemiah proved it. And I'd seen the flames that consumed my village so many years before. Felt the fear rippling through my tiny body. Whispers that night spoke of Omarian guilt.
Hypocrites. Sithians weren’t responsible for Ada’s fate. They didn’t burn my hut to ash and send a helpless child into the night.
I drove forward, tearing my way through bush walls and low hanging branches. Taking lashings on my face and arms. The sun dimmed as it lowered in the western sky, dropping into a late afternoon lull. A chill rustled the leaves. Cool wind and the smell of coming rain.
I’d stopped looking behind hours ago, stopped listening for footfalls at my back. Fatigue settled heavy, and with it, a drumming pain in my skull. I was near collapsing when I stumbled onto a winding, open road. I slowly eased into the open.
The road was broad enough for travelers to move supplies by wagon. My foot landed at the edge of a wheel rut, and a sharp stabbing burst through my ankle. I knelt to touch the deep groove.
The ruts were fresh, recently pressed, following a pattern of horse prints and scattered manure. I thought of Nehemiah’s reports of Sithian attacks in the northern territories, and fear skipped through my chest. Gregthain was still days away by horseback, but there’d been time, enough hours to bring them closer.
I scanned the distance before running across and into the trees, hopping on grassy patches to avoid leaving a print on the packed dirt. It wasn’t likely travelers would journey far off road to make camp, so I forced a run, putting as much distance between me and the path as possible.
The clouds shifted and the world erupted in golden light, sun rays beaming low through the trunks. I stopped, allowing myself a moment to see it. To stand alone in the glow and not be hated. Not be stared at and judged. The trees didn’t care what scars I wore. They didn’t skirt around me as a man dodges a plague. I might have stayed longer, bathing in the warmth and glory of the sun, but soon night would fall, and if I didn’t find shelter, I’d be easy prey for whatever creatures prowled in the dark. I moved away as clouds returned and the world transformed again to gray.
Movement pulled my attention. A small doe darted from hiding, racing toward denser trees. I swung my bow into position and set an arrow, but in the seconds available to claim her...I hesitated.
The moment was gone. The white of her tail disappeared into the bushes.
I could have taken her if I wanted and feasted on her meat. But I wasn’t hungry enough, and it seemed a waste. What would I have done with the remainder? Buried it? Tossed it to the wolves that would surely stalk me? I knew what it was to be discarded. Useless. I would find something smaller.
I spotted a rock outcropping just to the east and made my way, hoping for a small den or covering to rest under. I wasn’t disappointed. A wide cavern entrance gaped along the far west side, with a steady stream flowing along its mouth like a moat. I hobbled closer, drawing the bow again and aiming an arrow into the darkness. I moved in careful steps along the outer wall toward the entrance. Caves were rarely empty for long.
Peering in, I saw nothing for the first twenty feet. No fresh animal droppings or evidence of human residents. I smelled nothing of smoke on the air or food being prepared. Slowly, I inched forward, taking aim at every wall and corner. I moved along the inner edge, tensing at the echo of dripping water, using my shoulder to feel the shape of the curve. The cavern extended another fifteen feet back, where the cool air prickled bumps over my flesh. The curve led me back to the entrance, and I grinned, relaxing my arms. The cave was mine.
I moved again near the entrance and leaned my back to the cool, rock wall, closing my eyes. The setting sun blazed directly on me now, but in the morning, shadows would cover me until I woke. My muscles twitched, throbbing as I stood motionless for the first time in hours. My heart knocked out a strong rhythm, reminding me of the drums. The flute and cittern. They’d be dancing now...laughing in my absence. No longer weighed down by my presence. But the old musician would miss me. Of that, at least, I was sure.
My throat swelled and tears threatened, but I told myself it was only fatigue; I had no reason to cry. Apart from the old man, I was never loved there. Never wanted. Danior tried, over the years, to be my friend. But even if he’d shown compassion in our last moments, his father would inevitably win.
I slid to the cave floor, removed the cloak, and worked off my boot, freeing the injured ankle. No bruising. Minimal swelling. I touched the bone, pressing and manipulating. Nothing was broken. I’d be fine if I could rest a day or two.
Freeing the other foot, I tiptoed to the stream and cupped my hands in the cool water. With the first drink, the sensation rushed all the way to my belly. The next handful I rubbed over my face and neck, sighing. I sat for a while, unbraiding my hair and washing it clean in the steady flow, a wary eye always on the trees.
My body creaked when I stood, stretching my arms toward the open sky. Taking pleasure in the pull. In the silence and solitude. With the dipping sun warming my skin and the fragrance of rain filling my nose, I couldn’t fathom why I’d stayed. Why I’d endured as long as I had. No threat seemed insurmountable now that I was free. I could handle what would come. I believed that...blindly.
Having spared the doe, I was forced to leave my cave in search of food. Within twenty minutes, I was gutting a large rodent. I’d seen them before, with their long whiskered noses and thick tails, but Nehemiah never allowed them as meat for the community. As the sky turned gray, darkened by rainclouds and nightfall, I buried the entrails and returned to shelter.
A pocket in the cavern wall created an alcove. I built a fire there, where smoke could vent but the flames would be hidden from view at most angles. Using my knife, I sharpened the end of a stick and skewered the meat, holding it over the flames. Turning it occasionally. Struggling to keep my vision clear and sharp. The fire drew my wide-eyed stare, and I lost myself in memories. In Ada’s panicked gaze the night I lost her. And earlier...when she’d wiped my face and readied me for bed. When she touched my nose and sent me into giggles. I still saw her expression all those years later, still remembered that her
hair was blonde, but rarely clean. Rarely sunny like it ought to have been.
It hurt to think of her.
I ate half of the gamey meat, rinsing it down with water from the stream. The last of it I buried with the entrails. It was wasteful, but less than the deer would have been. Light rain pattered the stone as I returned, rolling in cool beads down my bare arms.
Dusk fell, and the sounds changed as songbirds traded watch with owls. I doubted Nehemiah would allow his men to pursue me that far north, but if he did, it wouldn’t be at night. Not in a land he had forbidden. It was to my advantage.
Still, I knew nothing of the dangers lurking in those woods. I could douse the fire to hide from traders, or keep it burning high to ward off animals who might wander in for a rest. It came down to what I feared most. In the end, I would rather have faced a bear than the cruel hearts of men. I put out the flames and huddled against the wall, soaking in the last of the heat.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ETAN
The boy’s wicked grin seared to my memory.
As we rode a steady pace over a low mountain pass, south toward the Great Forest, I couldn’t shake him from my mind. He’d seemed young and unblemished, innocent in my first estimation. But as time wore on and the moment evolved, evil seeped from him as from a wound, a slow revealing of his nature.
There’d been pleasure in his eyes...pride at the thing he’d done.
Maledin rode at my left, rubbing at a pain in his neck. The skin on his pale face was already red with sunburn.
“They’ll be deep in Sithia by the time we rally,” he said, guiding his horse closer to mine. I looked west, squinting in the blazing sun. The day was hot, already sweltering beyond the season.
“What choice do we have?”
Maledin’s voice lowered. “At the very least we should be sending scouts. Following their tracks before we lose them completely.”
My gaze jerked to his. “You know the king will hear your concerns. Besides,” I turned again to the path, teeth clenching against the words I was about to say, “entering their land risks war. And I’m no longer convinced that’s the wisest course.”
Maledin scowled, the heavy set of his brow shadowing mud brown eyes. “Your tune has changed. Wasn’t it you shouting in the king’s tent? They’ve brought war by their own actions.”
The boy flashed in my memory again, this time bleeding on the ground. Laughing up at Maledin with a death wound in his side. But more than the child, I feared the voice that used him, for that is where the real threat lay.
Our path angled down, descending into a thick gathering of fragrant evergreens. Our band of soldiers scattered among the trees, breaking ranks to navigate the winding terrain. Maledin trailed behind me in the narrow space, but once we emptied onto a high-grown field, his eyes were beside me again...insistent.
“What do you make of the boy?” I asked.
This surprised him, and he grew thoughtful. Fearful, even. I waited for his answer.
“I’ve heard stories,” he said at last. “Children cursed as infants to enact evil. I’d passed them off as tales, but now I don’t know. They’re called diavok.”
“I’ve seen a similar mark,” I told him. “But the bearer was just a young girl I encountered in a meadow when I was a boy. She wasn’t evil.”
“In Omaria?”
“Yes, but she was Sithian.”
His eyes grew wary, but he’d not seen her as I had. She’d been sweet and gentle. Innocent.
Innocent...as the boy had first appeared.
I began to doubt myself and those meetings I’d cherished. As a boy, I’d grown sick with worry over her. In my youth, after seeing her with the drifters, I considered setting out to find her.
Had I been beguiled even then? Could such a small child have tricked me?
I peered ahead, where the king led our long stream of riders. Whatever sorcerer spoke through the boy called our leader a pawn. Had the boy been but a few years older, it might have been my blade that ended him. But his fragile appearance had softened me. I was beginning to see my great weakness. Since childhood and the girl at the border, I’d allowed appearances to deceive me.
Our pace quickened. Hundreds of hooves pounded the earth, carrying us full speed toward the forest’s edge. I thought again of Eris, when I’d found her coughing in the market, fallen to her knees and keeled over. The coughing stopped the moment I touched her shoulder, likely a ruse to begin with. I’d seen the marks on her palms, but it was her eyes that caught me: grass green and burning.
“At last,” Maledin shouted over our thundering. I lifted my gaze to the vast forest looming ahead. Sweat beaded down my spine in running streams. “It’d be nice to arrive at Dreonine’s gate with at least one layer of skin still intact. He might mistake us for the rising dead!”
I grinned, and it brought an ease to my chest. “Perhaps your mother can meet you with a balm!”
Maledin squared his shoulders against my teasing and smirked. “No need.” He pointed toward the trees. “I’ll find a nice woodland girl to heal me.”
We barreled past the tree line, kicking up dirt and dead leaves. Our pace felt faster in the confines of the forest path, walled in by a sea of endless trunks. Rays of sunlight glared through the canopy, blinding me in flashes.
CHAPTER NINE
ERIS
A shrill bird call woke me.
I unfolded, wincing as I lifted my aching body from the stone. Heavy shadows stretched beyond the cavern opening, only yielding to sunlight past the stream. The morning was young.
My ankle ached, stiff, but standing was easier. I rolled my wrist and rubbed at the lingering pain, trying to rid myself of Danior’s print.
Another shrieking cry sounded from the trees. I stilled when only silence followed.
Where was the morning song? Why weren’t the birds greeting the dawn as they always did? I inched toward the wall and my weapons, slowly lowering to grab the bow and fix the quiver over my shoulder.
They couldn’t have found me. Not unless they searched all night, and I doubted that. Why leave their own territory?
I slipped on my boots and bracers in silence and moved toward the opening, sticking close to the wall. From the east, a large dog trotted into view. Gray and white. Wolf-like, but I’d seen these before. In the market years back, a similar creature followed on the heels of a knight. I pressed tighter to the wall.
The animal wandered to the stream for a drink, then to the cave entrance. Drops of water fell from its snout, leaving a trail of spots on the gray stone floor. It stilled, cocking its head. Ears perking. I didn’t breathe.
A sharp whistle cut the air, and the dog bolted in the direction from which it had come. A man’s voice called from close by.
“I’m feeling lucky today, boys!”
I flew on light feet to the edge of the alcove and pressed my body to the cool wall where I could see the cave entrance. My eyes shifted to the circle of stones I’d erected and the charred wood near my feet. Its smell still hung in the air. He’d waste no time in discovering me. But was this Nehemiah’s man?
Their voices chattered carelessly in the breeze, telling me they weren’t prowling for an animal. Only human traders cornered prey with such loud arrogance.
I sensed a man’s presence before he lumbered into view. My heartbeat echoed in my skull, surging in my ears. His arms were as wide as my legs. His neck equally as thick. A steadying breath breezed past my lips. I could never match his strength. My only chance was to catch him by surprise. To kill him before he killed me. Men don’t hunt to keep.
As he stood gazing into the dark, hands set firm on his hips, I raised the bow, squinting in the shadows to find my mark, and on the next breath, let the arrow fly. I heard its path only a second before it pierced near his chest with a sickening thud. A strangled cry left his mouth, and he fell to his knees, pressing a hand to the ground and head hanging.
I ran from hiding, making it past the stream and shadows befor
e he found his voice.
“Gideon!”
Trees flew past in a blur, snagging and ripping at my hair. Drawing stinging lines on my skin. I barely registered the pain for the panic surging though my blood. Was I so careless that I led them right to me?
Shouts reached my ears, several male voices. Gaining on me. The dog barked only once, and a moment later, running steps sounded behind me at an impossible speed. Teeth clamped onto my arm above the elbow, and I screamed, falling, following the pull of the bite. Deep pain ripped through my muscle.
The dog released me as soon as I was down. The blow of the fall knocked the breath from my lungs, but I scrambled, trying to run. Pain was nothing compared to death.
Boots surrounded me, and one pressed to my back, slamming me again to the ground. I didn’t know how many men stood sneering and laughing, but it sounded like hoards to me. It sounded like a mob. They praised the animal. Gideon. That was its name.
“Get her up,” someone said. Large hands grabbed me beneath both arms, and a wave of pain shot from the wound. They hauled me to my feet, where another man faced me. Brown, graying hair and copper eyes. His nose was narrow and cheekbones strong. Pleasing features that might have made him appear kind, if not for the evil in his grin.
He nodded toward the cave and said, “You’ve nearly killed my brute. Do you know how hard it is to find a truly loyal henchman?”
I scowled past tears, blood dripping from my fingers. “It’s not my fault your man has no sense. Who stands at the mouth of a dark cave unguarded?”
The man laughed, and so did the others. “I didn’t hire him for his brains.”
I struggled to pull free, angered at the joy he found in my suffering. “What do you want with me?”
He pressed his hands into pockets and ambled closer. “That remains to be seen. I have no use for a violent woman.”
Songs in the Night: Book One Page 7
