Chasing Shadows

by Ashley Townsend

  Seth appeared at the bottom of the stairs, a thin mattress tucked under one arm. He placed it on the floor near the fireplace and came to join them. One of his ruddy brows lifted when he caught Sarah and Will’s closeness. “How cozy,” he observed, then turned his crooked grin on Karen. “I should have thought about faking a slip through the ice—”

  A hard jab in his ribcage was her response. “We’ll let you two get some rest in peace,” Karen said, shooting Seth a warning look as she dropped the extra blanket on the bed. He grinned unrepentantly, rubbing his offended side.

  Looking all at once stern, he admonished, “Don’t get any ideas, young man.”

  “Goodnight, Seth,” Sarah said firmly, startling them all.

  The farm boy chuckled. “I suppose we can trust you, then.” Will felt his neck heat at being left alone, though the others seemed completely at ease—even Sarah, who was snuggling sleepily into his side, totally unaware of how many laws of convention he was breaking. It was one thing to be alone with her in his home—entirely another thing, he thought ruefully—but it felt different to know that others might be watching his moves. Not that there were any moves to be made. He quickly amended his train of thought before his embarrassment showed on his face.

  With a reassuring smile at Will, Seth followed Karen up the stairs. His whispered question echoed into the main room: “How come we never cuddle?” He grunted in pain, and then Karen’s harsh whisper faded until the only sound in the room was that of the crackling fire and Sarah’s faint breathing.

  “Feeling better?” Will asked her softly when his silent chuckles had subsided.

  Sarah sighed. “I can feel my toes again, so that’s a plus.” She wiggled around, turning her body so she could snuggle closer to him. He held his breath until she settled into his side, her head resting against his chest. It felt so natural to have her next to him, safely tucked under one arm. He already felt warmer because of it.

  “Comfortable? Would you like me to move you to the bed now?” he asked, momentarily forgetting Karen’s instructions to keep her awake. Sarah was sitting on the portion of the large quilt that was bunched on the floor, but perhaps she wanted more padding.

  “I’m fine right here.” He resisted a smile at her sigh of contentment. Her breathing evened, while his refused to slow. How could his mind continue to function so quickly when his body begged for sleep?

  Resting the side of his head against the wall, he watched the flames dance in the fireplace to distract himself from her nearness and remain alert. He was suddenly reminded of the blaze back in the forest and recalled the way the flames had lapped hungrily at Gabriel’s corpse.

  Facial muscles tightening in a grimace, Will whispered, “Are you all right? I mean, about what happened earlier?”

  This time Sarah shifted uneasily, and he immediately regretted upsetting her. “What did happen? Do you know how he died?” Her voice faded on the last word.

  He wanted to spare her as much detail as possible, but he knew she would only persist. “I didn’t see a wound at first, but the bottom of the chest in which he was . . . stored was covered in dried blood. I can only assume it was a head injury for there to be so much.”

  “He bled out,” she whispered, a note of horror in her voice.

  Will nodded gravely. “Yes, I believe so. That’s why he looked as he did. And as to why those men were ordered to dispense of the body in such a secretive manner—” He sighed. “Well, that I cannot begin to comprehend.”

  “I don’t understand any of it.” Her voice was so quiet he had to strain to hear. She was silent for a long minute, and he wondered if she had fallen asleep until she whispered, “I’m sorry he’s gone, but maybe you can move on now.”

  There was a hint of hope in her voice, and he took a second before answering carefully, “He received his justice.”

  She heard what he wasn’t saying. “But you wish you could have been the one to deal it out.”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” He thought her previous words over. “Perhaps I can move on, but I can’t help but begrudge the fact that the choice was taken from me. Does that make sense?”

  She nodded against his chest. He felt her fingers brush his free hand weakly, though he wasn’t sure whom she was trying to comfort. He turned his wrist to wrap her small hand in his, and her thumb rubbed his knuckles gently and then went still. “What happened to your palm?”

  “Hmm?” he murmured, eyes closed in utter contentment.

  Sarah moved his hand out of the blanket and held it up to the flames for inspection. Her quiet gasp filled the space, and he opened his eyes. The skin of his palm was shredded, blood crusted in the thin gashes crisscrossing over his skin. He was just as surprised as she, but now that he knew how it looked, he was aware of a similar aching sensation in the hand around her shoulder.

  “What happened?” she asked again.

  “I must have scraped them on the ice.”

  She looked up at him, confused. She didn’t seem to realize that she was still cradling his upturned palm in her hand.

  Will explained, “After you fell in, the water was so cold that the opening began to freeze over again. I had to chip away some of the ice.” He stifled a yawn and blinked. The adrenaline was fading faster than he’d led Karen to believe, and it was a struggle to keep his eyes open.

  He could tell without looking at Sarah that her silence was thoughtful.

  “I didn’t get to thank you for saving me earlier,” she began softly. “Karen said that you must have gone in after me because you were all wet.” He felt her shift and glanced down to find her staring up at him, the awed expression on her delicate features turning his stomach. “That was really brave.”

  He swallowed, unable to remove his gaze even when he felt his neck heat. “I wasn’t going to lose you.”

  “You’re always saving me.” She smiled lazily up at him and then rested her head back against his chest. A finger delicately swept over the rapid pulse thumping in his wrist, grazing the thin line of risen flesh on the soft part of his skin. “And what about this scar?” she mumbled.

  Will’s body tensed before he could catch himself, and she sensed the subtle shift in his mood. Scooting back, she propped her head against the wall and stared up at him with half-lidded eyes, weary brow drawn in question.

  He forced a half-smile. “You are tired. We can speak of it later.” Though he truly hoped she would forget it altogether.

  Sarah struggled into a sitting position, and he knew her stubbornly inquisitive side was overweighing her exhaustion. “What happened?”

  With a sigh, Will’s body slumped a little as he stared at the ceiling. “It isn’t a happy story.”

  She didn’t push him, and he wondered how to begin.

  Dragging in a breath for courage, he whispered, “I went through a very . . . dark time in the months following my parent’s deaths.”

  “Dark time?” Her tired voice carried traces of hesitation.

  How else to say it? “The life of an orphan taking over his father’s successful business held too many expectations I could not live up to.” Will’s chest swelled with a pained breath at the memories that came unbidden. “I wished to join my parents and attempted to end my life.” He grimaced at how straightforward his answer sounded, but there was no way to polish the story of how low he had fallen. He didn’t believe he would ever cease regretting his decision.

  Sarah’s wide, shock-filled eyes made him close his own in painful shame. “How?” Her voice was hardly a breath.

  “By rather . . . messy means.” Her fingers stroked the scar on his wrist again, and the soft intake of breath let him know she understood. “Suffice it to say I was unsuccessful, thanks to my uncle.”

  Sarah drew out the silence, absorbing this, and then she pressed her head against his chest again. “Good,” she commented firmly. “I’m glad there’s one thing you can’t do perfectly.”

  His smile was faint, and then his heart rate quickened as he co
ntemplated what he might say next. “I have always wondered,” he began slowly, drawing the words out, “if my failure was because I lacked the conviction to follow through, or perhaps I was afraid of death and wasn’t aware of it.” Her eyes flicked up sharply to meet his, filled with a hope he couldn’t account for. He inhaled a breath and caught the faint, crisp scent of the lake clinging to her hair.

  The fire and the intimate mood it created loosened his tongue, brewing in him the desire to reveal everything to her. It all came spilling out, then, those secret thoughts he had taken captive over the years. But here with her now, with the firelight and the reminder that death had almost claimed her hours before, it only seemed natural to come clean. And Will desperately needed someone to understand, and he sensed that, out of everyone, she would.

  Swallowing thickly, he whispered, “Since that day, I have prayed that my loneliness may spur me into finding something to live for—someone great enough to die for. The Shadow emerged from that desire, culminated with my thirst for justice. I felt the need to do something with my life.”

  His lips curved, an action that lately seemed to occur on his behalf without thought or force. “But that rainy day in the stable caused me to think that perhaps there was a greater reason that I had been unable to end my life on my darkest day.” Will’s arm tightened around her. “And now . . . well, perhaps I held on for this moment without even realizing it.”

  Sarah was quiet again. He let her have the silence, feeling an edge of nervousness as her pause stretched into minutes. He had bared his soul as best he could, and whether she accepted that or not was entirely her decision.

  “For a quiet man, you’re pretty good with your words,” she murmured. The back of her fingers brushed over the length of his hand, stroking over his scraped palm and fingers and then back again. The mechanical motions seemed to soothe her. “Does it still hurt?” her voice was barely above a whisper. She was fading quickly, and he knew he would be soon to follow.

  Will closed his eyes, not too far gone to smile to himself. His answer was truthful. “Not anymore, love.”

  ****

  Someone was inside his house.

  Will’s heart rate was up before his eyes snapped open. It took him a moment to blink away the sand and even longer before he got his bearings. Though it was too dark to see clearly and only a faint, deep blue slice of light cut through the gap in the shutters, he saw enough to remember that he was not in his house at all. The fire had died sometime in the night and only an occasional hiss or crackle popped faintly from the inactive pile of ash and wood.

  Shifting to relieve the numbness in his backside, he realized what his chin had been resting on. Sarah’s limp arm was slung over his waist, her head tucked securely against his chest. Even in sleep, he had not loosened his hold on her, and pinpricks shot over his shoulder after so many hours clutching her to him.

  With a grimace, he rotated his shoulder, careful not to disturb her. But she was sound asleep, breathing heavily.

  Will suddenly recalled the sound that had woken him and let his gaze wander the room, feeling more alert. A shadow moved from the kitchen and into the main room. He made out the sturdy build and stock of red hair and relaxed his position.

  Sneaking by on his way out the door, Seth looked over at them, and Will caught a flash of teeth in the darkness as the man grinned. He took in the sleeping woman. “Saddle sore?” he whispered.

  Stretching out his legs, Will resisted a groan as the blood returned to his limbs. Sarah’s hand twitched against his stomach in her sleep, and then he reminded himself that a sore backside wasn’t quite so bad. He thought about sending Seth on to his morning work so he could get another hour of rest, but he was too alert to fall asleep again.

  With a finger at Sarah’s head, Will nodded toward the pallet in the corner. Soreness aside, he felt far better than he had last night, but all his strength had yet to return to him. Seth understood and crouched down, gently taking the sleeping woman into his arms. Forcing aside the unnecessary pang under his ribs as Seth cradled her against his chest, Will rose, using the wall for support as the blood rushed from his head down to his feet to offer assistance.

  Laying Sarah down on the pallet, Seth retreated a step and allowed Will to lay the blanket over her. He couldn’t resist stroking back the tendrils that had fallen over her face, which had regained some of its color. Crouched beside the mattress, his mind wandered to the previous day, summarizing what they had discussed. She had said the physician was going to be executed this day.

  Her lips were parted, breathing deeply in oblivion. She looked so innocent and peaceful as she slept. Though she hadn’t yet realized, Will knew that if she was the last person to openly suspect Cadius’ involvement in the king’s death—and many others—then she was in immediate danger. That was, if he couldn’t save the only other witness.

  Standing, he took Seth aside. Keeping his voice low, he said, “I need to go.”

  “You’ve hardly had a full night’s rest,” Seth protested quietly. “And how will she take your leaving at dawn without a word?”

  “It’s because of Sarah that I need to go.” At Seth’s confused frown, he explained, “She is involved in something, and I have to intervene to protect her. It’s difficult to explain just now, but I give you my word that I will when it’s safe.”

  Seth looked unsure. “You realize both she and Karen will pummel me when they realize that I let you run off headlong into danger.”

  Will frowned, knowing he was right. “Then don’t tell her why I left, just that I had to do something and it couldn’t wait.”

  “That’s hardly vague,” Seth replied sardonically.

  “Please, just do this for me. I can’t wait any longer. I know she’ll be upset when she wakes, but tell her I will be back and that I’m sorry I had to leave.”

  Seth was silent for some time, mulling this over. Twice his eyes darted to Sarah’s sleeping form, and Will could almost see his train of thought: If she was awake, Will would not have the heart to leave.

  But then Seth released a heavy breath. “Fine. But come back in one piece.” He stooped down by the fire and came back to Will, handing his coat over. “Found this in the barn last night and had mother dry it out for you. And take one of the mares; I can pick her up from your stable later.”

  Gratefully, Will accepted the coat, slipping it on quickly. “Thank you.” He clapped Seth’s shoulder. “Don’t let her walk home alone. And keep her safe while I’m gone, will you?”

  Seth’s face was serious when he looked at Sarah lying there. “Of course. You know I care for her, too.”

  “That’s why I’m coming back,” Will replied dryly.

  The bewildered expression on Seth’s face quickly turned into an amused smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “No worries there, friend.”

  Will thought of the redhead and recalled his friend’s interaction with her last night, and he knew there was nothing to concern him. Will nodded and turned to leave.

  “And try to stay out of trouble if you ever want to see me alive again.”

  Feeling humor twitching his mouth, Will said, “When have I ever sought out danger?”

  Seth’s gentle chuckle followed him out the door.

  ~Chapter 42~

  Frosted air bit against his face and hands as he galloped across the cobbled streets, pushing the mare harder with the intent of completing his task before the sun rose; the animal’s hooves pounded against the stones in a rhythmic clicking sound that wouldn’t long go unnoticed. The town was still immersed in darkness and shadows, but he didn’t have much time before light revealed his unwanted presence. A hurried trip to his cabin for rope and his bow had taken longer than he liked, and he had no time for stealth now.

  Slowing his mount’s pace abruptly, Will slipped from the saddle in a fluid motion before the horse had jerked to a halt. He wrapped the reins around the hitching post in front of the livery; he would put her inside later for Seth to find
.

  Four guards were posted at the front gate, and more to the side. A bit excessive, Will thought warily.

  He moved through the streets at a clipped pace, half-crouched to avoid being spotted if any early-risers or shopkeepers happened upon his path. Picking his way down a side street, the passage opened and he immediately spotted his vantage point on the wall surrounding the castle. The execution yard was on the other side; they would have taken the physician from the tower last night and kept him nearby for easy retrieval.

  Hoping memory served him correctly, Will narrowed his eyes at the balistraria—the long and tight arrow slit on the upper portion of the wall, just below the crenellations. He raised his arm, aiming his bow and releasing the chord in a practiced movement that felt as familiar to him as breathing. The arrow sliced into the long and slender notch in the stone, slipping through to the other side.

  Will stepped on the end of the rope to stop it from uncoiling entirely, tugging on it until the arrow caught. Though his muscles had not yet fully recovered, he concentrated on scaling to the top and found the familiar pull and strain beneath his skin focused his mind. With his feet planted against the wall for support, he climbed quickly and landed in a crouch on the other side. No guard. Convenient.

  Hoping the length of rope dangling against the outside wall would not be discovered, he moved quickly along the walk toward the stairs. Instinctively, his eyes roved the courtyard and the top of the wall. His steps faltered, and he was instantly filled with suspicious dread.

  At the highest point of the wall, the upper portion of the gallows reached out like an extended arm over the courtyard. The noose hanging from it was stretched tight around the opening of the sack draped over the man’s head, hiding his face from view as his body swayed in the gentle breeze. He was positioned high enough that the limp body was above the shadows of the courtyard, swaying in the barest light of morning.