He didn’t believe that this was the case, however. Heidi smelled of great anger whenever she spoke of the Master. That was a difficult thing to feign.
A hard sigh escaped her, and she shook her head. “Don’t be a fool, Tah. It is not uncommon for humans to wear coverings on their heads to protect them from the elements—so no one will think twice of it. I do this because it has been ingrained in me to do so. If I go in with my hair visible, at best I can expect to be shunned. At worst, they will chase me out of the sanctuary. No one with light-colored or red hair is looked on with anything less than suspicion. I would be considered a hazard. Perhaps not as great as one who possesses red hair, but the threat to my safety is a reality I have lived with most of my life. It may be less of an issue in the Citadel, but, in the villages, superstition runs high, and among some of the more superstitious mobs it is a death sentence.”
For once, Tah was shocked into silence. His mouth worked for several seconds before he managed to rasp out one word. “Why?”
Heidi’s laugh was brittle. “Because everyone, even the least superstitious, believes that red and blonde hair brings the Ragoru. That bright colors alone attract your species. No one would be caught wearing anything vibrant, and being cursed with a full head of bright hair is an omen for disaster. Some huntsmen go so far as to leave women to die in the wilderness as bait, hoping to eventually draw out a solo Ragoru or a triad. I will not apologize for instinctively looking after my wellbeing.”
Orth stared at her. Humans really believed such foolishness? Red was considered sacred, but he never heard of a Ragoru intentionally pursuing anything on the basis of color, certainly not humans. “That makes no sense at all,” Orth remarked, at a loss.
“And how does that surprise you, brother? Humans disgust me,” Gund snorted, and Tah growled in agreement.
“Yeah, well, I am not too fond of most people either,” she said. “Now is there anything else, or can I get on with this?”
None of them responded. There was nothing to say after the accusation was answered. She gave them one last sweeping glance before striding away. It didn’t take her long to melt into the forest, leaving them behind.
Tah huffed. “Now what do we do?”
“We wait,” Orth remarked, stretching out over the fallen tree to make himself more comfortable, rolling just enough to give his brother his back. He loved Tah and had always enjoyed the almost reckless enthusiasm with which he threw himself against a foe as much as his brother’s quick thinking and ability to speak to their brethren. However, he was tired of dealing with Tah’s sharp tongue that failed to cease ever since Heidi joined them and turned the normally mischievous and unrepentant male into a bundle of anger and aggression.
Orth looked at Gund as the male made a low noise in agreement and scraped about until his body sank into a thick patch of weeds. They would rest while there was the opportunity. Orth closed his eyes, allowing himself to soak in the warm comfort of the sun drifting through the trees. It was ruined by the sensation of Tah glowering at them.
“That is your answer? To sleep?” the male demanded.
“Yes,” Gund growled.
Orth opened his eyes and turned his head just enough to watch as Tah, grimacing to himself, sprawled on a patch of grass, his pale eyes staring at the track as if he expected something to come barreling up it toward him. He flopped over several times making low, grumbling noises that kept Orth awake and increasingly annoyed.
“I cannot sleep,” Tah ground out several minutes later.
“Then shut up so those of us who wish to can,” Orth snapped, earning him a growl from the other male. It quickly silenced and was followed by a lengthy sigh.
“My apologies, brothers. I do not understand my own mood as of late. Take your rest. If I cannot, I will content myself with watching for the female’s return.”
“You are in for a long wait then,” Gund said, his voice already heavy with sleep. “I would not expect her to return until morning. You exhaust yourself, and the strain is showing. Sleep brother. Our position is secure. There are no trace scents of humans in this area, as you know. For whatever reason, they are not inclined to follow the track into the woods. It is best to rest while we can.”
Tah’s noncommittal grunt was all that greeted that observation as he, at long last, finally fell silent. After a time, Orth turned about to face his brother and shifted into a more comfortable position. A smile tugged at his mouth when he saw Tah’s pale form still sprawled belly down, the male’s sides moving with even breaths in slumber.
Orth chuckled and closed his eyes, reveling in the warmth of the sun. It had been some time since his triad had enjoyed a simple pleasure like napping in a beam of sunlight. He wasn’t going to waste it.
10
Heidi felt the weight of the guard’s eyes as she stood before the gates, his bearded face scowling down at her suspiciously. Heidi peered back up at him trying to make herself seem as non-threatening as possible. The guard platform just behind the gate forced her to tilt her head up to meet his eyes.
“What is your business?” he demanded from his perch.
“I am a traveler, on my way to Dunvar on my master’s behest,” she called back.
“Dunvar? That is some distance to travel yet.”
She nodded, exaggerating her weariness. Not that it required much exaggeration. In truth, she was exhausted. Days of sleeping on hard ground and constant traveling made it so she needed to feign little of it. “I am afraid so. I have already come some distance since departing from Old Wayfairer. My master has asked me to take correspondence to his cousin there.”
The man grimaced sympathetically, his large body relaxing. “That would be the noble families for you. They don’t care how hard such journeys are on the simple folk who serve them. Dunvar hasn’t been a safe place for women for years, though I hear it is getting better. Still, I wouldn’t wish it on any woman to be forced to travel there. I am sure you could use a good rest. I will wave you in.”
She waved up at him in thanks. “My gratitude, sir.”
He gestured to someone on the ground with one hand as his face wrinkled with a shy smile. “No thanks needed. Just take care, woman. There are all manner of predators between here and Dunvar. Rest well while you can.”
“I shall,” she said in all seriousness, her attention dropping to the gate as it slowly eased open. With a small nod to the woman manning the gate, she entered.
The dirt road within the village was simple and led directly into the village square. A large well occupied the heart of the community where people milled about. The high level of activity seemed centered around a market that had been erected where merchants were set up with their wares. The Mother had certainly blessed her to arrive at a time when few would be suspicious of a stranger in their midst. It was unlikely anyone would remark on her presence when merchants were demonstrating their wares.
Her eyes scanned the crowd. Unlike the Citadel, there appeared to be a more even distribution of men among those looking over the goods. She knew that it was in part due to the reluctance of many women to leave the Citadels. While men enjoyed great prosperity there, the small number of wealthy women of rank possessed equal control of the Citadel in the council. The council itself held the greatest affluence outside of the Order. It was a curious thing compared to the life of worthless drudgery and inhumane treatment experienced by the vast majority of women in the citadel. Men, on the other hand, who didn’t have the desire to sacrifice a peaceful life for the Order or the social constraints of the Citadel, had an opportunity to carve something out under their own control in the sanctuary villages. There was a marked difference between life in the villages and what she was most familiar with.
Her sharp eyes noted a man dressed in the finest cloth manufactured in the citadel, zeroing in on a simple medallion strung around his neck on a silver chain. It resembled the medallions worn by the women of the ruling council in the Citadel. There was no doubt in her mind who t
his could be: the village governor.
His bored gaze swept over the crowd and he stopped every so often to speak in a low tone to a neatly dressed man who trailed behind him. Ladies clad in beautiful gowns scampered behind him, and Heidi’s eyebrows rose. Apparently, the rumors she had heard about well-off men taking multiple wives in the west were correct. She only hoped that it was by choice in the villages. They were still far from Dunvar and their questionable methods for obtaining brides and workers for the Citadel.
The women had their heads together, whispering amongst themselves, their conversation interrupted at intervals by giggling. Heidi watched them for a moment before returning her attention to the governor. The way he strutted around like a peacock surveying his territory seemed like just the type to host the Master on his various travels and escapades. Although Heidi had never accompanied him west before, she’d escorted him to the northern Stronghold Citadel, and then eastward on the continent to Tranquility Citadel, which he visited frequently for pleasure. She sometimes wondered why the Master established a secondary residence in Dunvar rather than Tranquility.
But he made the trips west alone, always in secrecy. He had never even informed her. She’d happened upon the document of charges for his secondary residence. As the time for her rebellion grew closer, she wondered more than once what the Master had gotten up to that he didn’t want his assassin—his right hand—to know about when she accompanied him on all other business. Knowing the rumors of the terrible practices of Dunvar, it planted a seed of worry in her mind.
In hindsight, she could see where such suspicions influenced her actions.
She eyed the governor a moment longer as she drew alongside him, but she didn’t linger to watch him. Instead she continued down the street, heading in the direction of the inn whose large, faded sign boasted of a hot meal and clean beds. She didn’t want to draw any suspicion upon herself. Besides, the inn would have happily provided their best room to the Master. She had no doubt that she would be able to discover quite a bit of local gossip about a famous visitor with little effort. The lure of a comfortable place to sleep would have to wait while she gathered intelligence, but at least she would be able to avail herself of plenty to eat and drink in the meantime.
The inn was a modest establishment. The wallpaper was old, likely put up a generation or two ago when the building was first constructed, but the owner of the establishment was cheerful and welcoming. The matronly proprietress was nearly as tall as Heidi, with apple-colored cheeks and a deep, throaty laugh as she jested with her clientele. Though she was engaged in conversing among her guests, her attention was sharply on the door, and the moment Heidi entered she hurried over.
“Welcome to the Two Rivers Inn. I am Tansy Bishop. How can I help you, honey?” the woman said cheerfully as she wiped her hands on a clean apron.
“Two Rivers?” Heidi asked. “I don’t recall seeing any rivers around here.”
“Ah, yes. My daughters named it when we settled here. Said it was the best area but would be perfect if only there were two rivers. So, it’s actually named after our idea of a little piece of paradise, our two rivers.”
“That sounds lovely,” Heidi said with a smile as she pulled out several coins. “Well, I would very much appreciate a room in your paradise.”
The owner’s eyes latched onto the gold and her smile became bigger. “Well, for a generous offer such as that, I will give you our finest room. You know, the Master of the Order of Huntsmen stayed there himself just four days ago. He had nothing but good things to say,” she boasted as she led the way up the stairs.
Down a hallway dotted with doors, they stopped at a door at the furthest end of the upper landing. Taking a key off her key ring, she opened the door to reveal a room that smelled of lavender and vanilla. The proprietress went immediately about the room, lighting the oil-filled sconces on the walls, flooding the room with light. A plush bed stood in the center of the room with heavy dark blue blankets draped over it, and the wallpaper was a relaxing grayish purple with tiny flowers printed on it. Heidi experimentally sat on the bed, her entire body sagging with relief at its luxurious softness as Tansy left only to return minutes later with a domed tray she sat on the table near the bed.
“Supper isn’t for a couple more hours, but I thought you could do with something to nibble on for now, considering you are obviously road-worn. Tyler, my eldest, will bring up the tub and get it filled right up for you so you can wash away some of the road while you wait.”
“Thank you. This is all very generous,” Heidi said, her eye drifting over the dome curiously. “I am sure the Master of the Order must have been very comfortable with such fine hospitality.”
Tansy flushed with pride and bobbed her head happily. “He said it was fine service worthy of the Old Wayfairer Citadel itself!” Her lips puckered as a small frown suddenly knit her brow. “He was rather peculiar about what he wished to eat, but that is the well-to-do for you.”
Heidi smiled politely and nodded. “I am surprised that he didn’t stay longer. This seems like a pleasant village.”
Tansy waved a hand dismissively and snorted out a laugh. “Oh, I heard him yelling to one of the men accompanying him. Said he couldn’t miss some fancy event. Something about making connections with the right people. He leads a very exciting life, I imagine. Our village is comfortable, but it is not one to attract those who love adventures for long.” The look on her face was almost wistful before it vanished under another cheerful smile. “Is there anything else I can do to make you more comfortable?”
“No, this is truly lovely. Thank you,” Heidi replied gratefully.
Tansy made a few more appreciative noises as she tidied up invisible clutter and then hustled out of the room with a gentle reminder that supper would be at six. An old wind-up clock on the wall ticked the time, but Heidi ignored it as her eyes tracked the departing woman.
The moment the proprietress was gone, Heidi stood up and made her way to the table. She lifted the dome on the tray to reveal a thick hunk of bread, a small bowl of warmed butter sweetened with honey, and some sort of spice that had her stomach complaining. There was also a small bowl of dehydrated peaches that had been fried and topped with cream. The sharp cheese off to the side completed the small feast.
Pulling a wooden chair out of her way, she leaned forward and helped herself to a thick slice of bread slathered with the sweet butter and bit into it as her eyes surveyed the room. This had worked out better than she’d expected. She had only missed the Master by a matter of days, and she was fortunate enough to be put in the same room he’d been in.
She took a deep breath. She could still faintly smell the woodsy scent of his cologne lingering in the room.
The room was immaculate. Sighing, she sat in the chair facing the bed as she plucked up a spoon and ate the peaches with gusto. She felt almost guilty enjoying simple pleasures while the Ragoru were waiting for her in the woods, but at least the weather was sunny and warm. With all that thick fur, they were probably resting comfortably somewhere.
She licked some errant cream and peach juice from her finger as a shaft of sunlight edged into the room. She squinted against the bright light and got up to pull the curtain shut but paused when a glint caught the corner of her eye. It was faint, so far beneath the bed that it was up against the headboard as if something had slipped through a crack.
Grunting, she crouched and attempted to wedge herself underneath the bed to grab it. Her fingers skimmed against the metal; it rattled in place at her nudge. It refused to get nearer, and instead seemed to sink further against the wall.
“Tit-licking son of the Mother,” Heidi cursed. “Get over here!”
A few more attempts made it clear that she wasn’t going to be able to get it out that way. She slid back until she was sitting on her knees, glaring at the heavy wooden bed.
There was no choice. She was going to have to move the oak monstrosity. Its massive headboard and footboard made her wince just
to consider it.
Pushing up to her feet, she walked to the head of the bed, gripping the edge firmly as she braced her hip and thigh against it. Heidi threw her weight against it with a groan. It budged a few inches, grinding across the floorboards as it slid to the side. She stared down at the minimal distance it moved in disbelief.
With a frustrated shake of her head, she walked away from the bed, striding to the door. Fishing the key out of her pocket, she locked the door before throwing off her hood and cape. The cooler air immediately hit her neck and she sighed in relief. Leaning her head from side to side to stretch out her neck, she turned to face the stubborn bed once more.
Throwing her strength into it, she pushed on the bed as it groaned and finally obliged to move a few feet. The sound was horrible, but the grin that lit her face was broad as she caught sight of her target. A small metal key with an ornately molded end sat next to a small slip of crumpled paper. She hadn’t seen the paper before. It was so small that it was no wonder that she missed it in the shadows of the bedframe. Wedging into the small space, she leaned down and plucked up the key and then the scrap of paper with her fingers.
Cradling both in her palm, she made her way back to the table and sat down, depositing her findings on the tabletop. Sitting, she slid the paper closer and carefully smoothed it out on the table. A familiar script was scrawled across its length.
Cherjik 2859687 code 897BZ24
Interesting. It did not make any sense to her, but she gently folded and stuck it in the small pouch on her belt. The key was just as much of a mystery as the paper. The end had an interesting pattern of a snake folded around itself. It wasn’t a crest from the Order, but it was highly ornate and of a quality that was unlikely to belong to any of the people in the village. Given that it was with the paper in such tight quarters, she wagered that they belonged together—but for what purpose she didn’t know.
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