by Jaleta Clegg
Chapter 17
The soldiers settled down to drinking and playing dice. The villagers continued to pile the wood higher.
I wriggled my hands, working at the rough ropes. My wrists stung and bled. If I could get them off, I could pick the lock on the cage. I could run for the woods to hide. It was a futile hope, barely better than giving in to despair.
A guard kicked my cage. I quit wiggling. He returned to the game.
I chewed on the gag until I finally shifted it out of my mouth. The guards didn't notice.
The afternoon crawled. The pyre grew huge, at least five feet of dry wood surrounded the center stake. A man attached a tiny platform on top of the wood pile, hammering it in place. Each slap of his hammer echoed in my head.
I tried looking away, but morbid curiosity kept pulling me back. I stared at the pyre while daylight slowly faded. I was too scared to be hungry or thirsty. I wanted Tayvis to rescue me. I wanted Will to sneak in and free me. I wished and waited, wiggling my hands in the ropes.
The guards lit a lamp when it grew dark. The dice game continued.
I don't know how, but I dozed off. I dreamed of Miss Hadley, the orphanage director. She stood over me, her face set in a permanent scowl. I knelt on the floor surrounded by buckets and rags.
"You were never any good," Miss Hadley said in my dream. "I can't say I'm surprised. I always said you'd come to no good end."
She leaned over me and pinched.
I startled awake, sitting with a gasp. My hands were numb from the ropes. I lay down in my cage. A single guard watched me suspiciously, his sword out and ready. I closed my eyes, turning my head away from him. I didn't want him to see my fear.
I drifted off again, plagued with fragmented memories of my past, of people telling me I was nothing, worthless, less than garbage. Life in the orphanage had been hard. Being the daughter of a failed revolutionary leader hadn't helped. Miss Hadley wasted no opportunity to remind me how utterly revolting she found my very existence. She told me repeatedly I would come to no good end.
I was almost relieved to see dawn light creep across the sky.
The guards kicked the cage a few times, then ignored me when I didn't respond.
Sunlight painted the wood pile gold. People gathered in the square. Music drifted through the morning air, bright and happy. Children laughed as they played tag. They squealed when they saw me watching, running to the far side of the square.
Would anyone mourn me? Commander Nevis, the man who pulled strings to get me off Tivor, had been reassigned to a post clear across the Empire while I was still at the Academy. If I never wrote him again, he might wonder what happened to me. No one else would even notice. That thought hurt more than I expected.
The cage door rattled and clanged as the soldiers opened it. They grabbed my ropes, hauling me out.
"I've never seen a demon burn before." The young guard, his beard a sparse sprinkle of down across his chin, smiled brightly.
"They burn same as other people." An older guard lifted me by the ropes. "Maybe a bit hotter is all. The screams are the best part."
They dragged me into a glorious morning, bright and golden and full of life. The villagers cheered. The soldiers shoved me to the huge pile of wood.
I stared at the big center stake. How much would it hurt to be burned alive? I hoped it would end quickly.
The soldiers lifted me to the tiny platform. One climbed the woodpile behind me. He wrapped ropes around me, tying me tightly to the stake. The villagers shouted advice, telling him to tie it tighter. He yanked the knots firmly, then climbed down.
I stood alone, balanced on the tiny platform. The rope holding me to the pole pinched. I wiggled my hands. It was no use. I was tied too tightly to escape. I looked at the incredibly blue sky. I didn't want to die, not this way.
The villagers lifted their children to their shoulders. One young child, too young to talk, sucked his finger as he stared. He smiled shyly, waving one tiny hand.
"Fire?" Another child clapped his hands and smiled at his mother when she nodded.
I swallowed bile.
The priest flapped out of his ugly building. The villagers quieted. He preached a long, rambling sermon on the evils of just about everything. I wished he'd keep talking forever. He pointed a long finger at me.
"Behold evil incarnate!"
The villagers gasped.
"The demon witch from the sky has bespelled our benevolent Baron Molier with a most vile curse!"
The villagers booed. A rain of rotten vegetables squelched around me.
"I'm not a demon!" I twisted my head as a cabbage pelted the pole. It did no good to protest.
When the villagers ran out of rotten ammunition, the priest continued. "We must lift the curse. We must burn the evil!"
"Burn the demon!" the villagers chanted.
"Bring forth the holy fire!" The priest gestured dramatically.
The guards looked at each other. One of them ran into the building. He trotted out a moment later with an unlit torch. He knelt at the base of the woodpile to light it with a knife and a stone. Sparks flickered and died around it.
"The holy fire," the priest prompted.
The guard swore as he tried to light the torch. The villagers shifted restlessly. The guard swore more creatively. Sparks flickered violently around it, but it remained unlit.
The priest rose on his tiptoes. "Behold the power of the demon! She is very strong."
One young mother picked up her child, hiding his face under her shawl. The child screeched in protest.
"It's her evilness," one of the villagers said loudly.
"I'm not evil. I'm not a demon!"
"Shut up!" The lead guard poked his sword my direction.
A tendril of smoke rose from the torch. Sparks flew more vigorously as the guard redoubled his effort to light it.
"I didn't do anything to your Baron!"
"Then why does he lust for your flesh, you evil demon wench?" The priest raised his skinny arms to the sky.
"I don't know!"
The torch flared into burning life.
The priest smiled. "Burn the demon! Cleanse us from her evil powers!"
"No!" The cheering of the villagers drowned out my shout of protest.
The guard swung the torch around. Flames flared. He grinned, his face on a level with my knees. He waved the torch closer.
Horses clattered into the square. Someone shouted a warning. Villagers ran every direction, screaming as they tried to avoid the horsemen. Children wailed, adding to the confusion. The priest screeched sermons, his robe flapping out clouds of dust. The soldiers drew their swords.
The guard with the torch shoved it into the woodpile under my feet as the horses thundered through the crowd.
Flames licked through the wood. I yanked at my ropes, trying to tear myself free. The thick ropes held me fast to the pole. A flame curled around the platform. I tried to spit on it, anything to slow it down, but my mouth was too dry.
"Hold still!" The shout came from behind.
Tayvis had found me. I sagged with relief. He had come; he would save me. His horse danced around to the front of the pyre. His sword flashed as he swung it right towards me.
He was going to kill me. I froze completely. The sword's sharp metal edge rose high. Time slowed to a bare crawl. The sword sliced the air. I flinched.
The ropes parted. I staggered, falling off the pyre. Tayvis grabbed me, pulling me across his saddle. His horse jumped forward, away from the fire. His sword flashed as he blocked a soldier's attack. The man reeled as Tayvis' horse crashed through his defense to run into the fields beyond the village. Other horses pounded behind. We raced into the woods.
Tayvis slipped his sword into a sheath, trading it for a knife. He slit the ropes around me, tossing them away.
I clung to his vest, burying my head against his chest. I couldn't believe I was still alive.
"Dace?"
I shook with shock and relief.
"You're on fire." He pounded at my skirt. "Are you hurt? Dace?"
I kept my head down. My fists clenched so tight in the leather of his vest, my knuckles turned white. I didn't want to let go, ever.
"Dace?" He slowed his horse. He put his hand under my chin, forcing my head up. Worry lines creased his forehead. "Other than the smell, are you all right?"
"They were going to burn me alive," My voice cracked. "They brought their children to watch." I couldn't stop shaking.
Tayvis picked a clump of rotting lettuce from my hair, shaking it off onto the ground. I ducked my head down, tucking it under his chin. He put his arm around me, holding me close despite the stench.
We rode over a steep hill. He pulled his horse to a stop just the other side of the ridge. A horse with a familiar rider pulled up beside him.
Will gave me a worried look. "The guards aren't more than ten minutes behind." He lifted the bag slung over his shoulder. "You'll need this before I will. We'll cover your tracks, keep them off your trail."
"Three days, Will. You'd better be at the base with the list by then."
"Then what, Tayvis? You don't have any proof. The list won't be enough."
"Just get the list from the monastery. It will have to be enough. We'll let the ground troops deal with the rest. I'll tell Admiral Tuong what he can do with the policy of noninterference. This whole investigation was compromised from the beginning."
"You'll be all right?"
"As long as you're as good as you say."
"We're Robin's men," Will said. "No one will find your tracks under ours. Go."
Tayvis nodded. "Three days, Will."
Will's answer was lost in the pounding of hooves as Tayvis urged his horse into a run. I slowly quit shaking. I was safe. For now.
We rode into the hills, picking a way next to a meandering stream. Flowers nodded in a light breeze, white and pink.
Tayvis pulled his horse to a stop next to a shallow pool. Sunlight sparkled across the water. He slid off the horse, allowing it to drink. Tayvis fingered a scorch mark on my skirt. The smell of smoke haunted me, mixing with the smell of the rotten produce splattered over me. My stomach heaved.
I slid down from the horse, staggering a few steps before I lost control. I landed on my hands and knees, retching up nothing. Tayvis' hands warmed my shoulders. I closed my eyes and shivered. Flames danced in my mind, their heat burning in memory.
"Dace." Tayvis waited until I opened my eyes. He handed me a cup of water from the stream, watching until I drank. He knelt in front of me pulling my skirt aside to check my legs.
"Mild burn. Not much more than a sunburn. Anything else?" He patted my leg gently.
I stared into the cup of water, shaking my head. I didn't know how to react. I didn't know why he cared. I didn't know what to do.
"That perfume you're wearing is a bit strong." His joke landed as flat as his smile. His lip twitched as he handed me Will's bag. "I hope you aren't too attached to that outfit. I doubt it will ever get clean."
I peeked into the bag. Inside was a pair of the green leggings Robin's men wore and a yellow shirt.
"They'll probably fit you better than mine will."
He led his horse a few steps away to tether it in a patch of grass. He walked a few steps more, staying just in sight next to a bush covered with tiny white flowers.
I fingered the clothes. Water splashed into the pool. Tayvis wasn't going to leave me. He'd just rescued me. I forced myself to believe it.
I stripped off the filthy skirt and blouse, throwing them into a bush. I kept the boots on and waded into the water.
The pool was shallow, just deep enough to wash in. I sat in the frigid water, scrubbing hard. Bits of vegetables and fruit floated downstream. Death smelled of rotten vegetables and wood smoke. I scrubbed until my skin hurt. I still saw the children smiling as the soldiers tied me to the stake. I shivered again but not from the cold.
I waded out of the stream, wiping water off before dressing in Will's borrowed clothing. The clothes hung loose. It didn't matter. They were clean and didn't smell like death. I slung the empty bag over my shoulder as I made my way around the bush.
"You'll get blisters walking in wet boots." Tayvis leaned against his pack, typing notes on a tiny handcomp. "I left your lunch out."
He'd left bread and cheese on a nearby rock. I sat on the ground. I couldn't find much appetite. I picked at the bread.
He snapped the handcomp shut. "You should let them dry out a bit."
I shook my head. "I don't want to be caught barefoot again." It made me feel too vulnerable. I already felt too vulnerable. Besides, they were spacer's boots, designed of a very tough, flexible fabric. They'd be dry within minutes. I wriggled my toes inside them.
Tayvis tucked the handcomp inside his vest. "Where did you get those?"
"Ricard Blake gave them to me."
"That explains a lot."
I looked at the food in my hand rather than at him.
"Eat your lunch," he said. "We've got a long ride ahead of us."
"Where are we going?"
"You're going to help me find Leran's secret stash of goodies."
I shook my head. "I don't want to go anywhere near him."
"His stash, Dace, not him. He's safely in the Baron's castle supposedly doing research."
"Why do you think I know where his stash is?"
"Because you were with him when he collected his latest shipment from it." He picked up his bag. "Right before you met me. Remember the camp you ran away from?"
I nodded.
"Think you'd recognize the campsite?"
"Maybe." I picked off a crumb of bread, crumbling it in my fingers. "Someone attacked Leran. Who?"
"Half a dozen candidates come to mind. It was most likely bandits."
"How do you know they won't attack us?"
"We'll be careful. You've got until I get the horse saddled to eat that."
I ate, my appetite restored. If anyone could keep me safe on Dadilan, it would be Tayvis.
He whistled as he saddled his horse. I wondered what he really thought. Will said he liked me. I didn't know how to handle that thought, so I ignored it, shoving it to the back of my mind. I could deal with it later. If I could figure out how.