by Deb E Howell
Cassidy’s clear blue eyes settled on her. “Of course, men like you an’ me never get girls like that. They keep to their own kind and we keep to ours.”
He wasn’t wrong. But Cassidy didn’t look like much of a street rat.
“And what’s your kind?”
Cassidy’s face lit up in a grin. “Generous.”
* * *
Revera shifted under Braph, her saddle and his trousers creaking. She was growing restless. If she had any notion how to read the signals flying along the telegraph semaphore line, she would have been as riveted as he. Semaphore towers. Braph shook his head. Aghacia was so far behind the times. Turhmos already had a wired telegraph system, and in having such had a far greater level of security for the information crossing the nation. Aghacia still relied on optical signals, which any damned fool could read. Braph wasn’t a fool, and he was certain he knew more about the information currently heading up the length of Aghacia than the sender or receiver.
News was spreading of a witch surviving a hanging in Cheer at the far south of the country, where Braph was now headed. But not only had the girl survived, she had also killed. She was still there then, or at least had been until this news had got out; he doubted she would still be in Cheer any longer. That wasn’t a bad thing. The shape of Aghacia meant that the chances of Braph and the girl crossing paths were high, and Braph was by no means saddened at the prospect of not returning to that primitive and ramshackle town.
The only question remaining then, was whether or not the girl had actually died and lived, or if she had merely failed to die in the first place and healed her wounds. Either way, Braph wanted to see it for himself.
CHAPTER FIVE
“You look as though you haven’t slept in days,” Anya said when they took their places to resume the journey. “Why don’t you go in the back and have a lie down?”
Llew wasn’t sure if she was ready to relax in the presence of these strangers but, urged by Aris and Emylia as well, she did as she was told and lay against some rolled bedding in the back.
The carriage was filled with the belongings of a teenage girl of far greater means than Llew had ever known. There were dozens of bags bulging, no doubt with fine clothing, a guitar, and even paintings leaning up against one side and carefully roped to the cart struts. The entire carriage interior smelt of perfume. While Llew didn’t love the tangy aromas most of the girls she knew wore, this was a pleasant enough fragrance, with none of the cheap undertones she was used to. The perfume wafted from a stack of papers and envelopes tied with ribbon, with a pen, bottle of ink, and a letter opener attached. Llew had been taught to read, but she felt a pang of jealousy toward this girl who could write as well. Llew remembered her mother writing letters to family they couldn’t visit. But her father hadn’t been one for such things, so he had not taught her the skill. Not that Llew had anyone to write to in any case.
The bedding was made of the softest material she had ever touched and it wasn’t long before the soothing sounds and the motion of the rocking carriage lulled her into semi-consciousness.
A shout startled her awake and the carriage pulled up.
“How can we help you, officer?” Aris’ gravelly voice floated back through the canvas to Llew.
Her pulse quickened and muscles tensed, but she swallowed her nerves and the urge to leap out the back and disappear into the trees. For all she knew they were surrounded. Keep calm, Llew. Keep calm.
The silence that followed did little to settle her.
“Excuse me, sir,” Emylia’s tense voice broke it. “But may I ask what exactly it is that you are looking for?”
“A witch, ma’am.”
“A witch? Well, this is Miss Anyunca Orell, daughter of Lord and Lady Orell of Cheer. And I would ask that you cease looking at her in that way.”
“Sorry, ma’am. The witch is a girl, about your charge’s age. You wouldn’t happen to have seen one, would you? She’s probably naked, and likely dirty.”
So, they’d found the skirt and blouse. Llew guessed they probably expected her to dance around magic stones under a full moon, too. A witch!
“No, sir. We haven’t seen anyone like that,” Aris answered.
Llew closed her eyes in a silent prayer. Only a layer of canvas and the silence of her travelling companions separated her from a return trip to Cheer and the noose – or worse.
Then, without another word, the Farries were on their way at a ground-eating lope to spread the word of the witch escaping farther north. Llew let herself relax into the bedding again. But a gap in the canvas at the back of the carriage caught her eyes and, through it, she could see Jonas riding just behind the pack horses tied to the rear of the carriage. She didn’t know if he could see through the hole into the dark interior of the carriage, but it sure looked like he was watching her. She swallowed, gazed up at the canvas roof, and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. No, he didn’t know anything. He was just annoyed that she’d stolen his knife. That was all. She would prove her worth to the group and he would forgive her. Everything would be fine.
She hoped.
* * *
The road meandered in gentle curves, negotiating hilly terrain and all the while approximately parallel with the coastline, tracing the edge of the land. The travellers fell silent as fatigue from the day’s ride set in. Hooves and wagon wheels were the only sounds when the road veered from the sea and into a corridor of beech forest, the trees striping the riders with bars of light and shadow. Fallen seeds littered the road and small rodents that had been taking advantage of this year’s feast scurried into the undergrowth as carriage and riders passed.
Llew clambered to the front and sat behind the other passengers, watching the passing landscape. The cool forest air was a relief after months of cooking daily in the heat of Cheer. She breathed the moist air deep into her lungs and the cool twilight gave her a sense of peace.
Three men on horseback emerged abruptly from the trees ahead, stopping Cassidy and Alvaro in their tracks. Their demeanour and brandished knives and swords banished any tranquillity. A rustle sounded behind. Llew poked her head around the side of the carriage to see four more men span the road to the rear of their party.
More lawmen?
“Highwaymen,” said Aris, under his breath, as though answering her thought. “Good for nothing no-hopers think they can take whatever they want, whenever they want . . . ” He kept muttering under his breath.
Llew saw that he was right. They didn’t look like any lawmen she had ever seen. The only thing uniform about these men was the layer of dust and mud caked on them.
Seven men to their three. Big men, too. Llew doubted Aris was up to much these days – he was a touch on the potty side and older than her father would be now. And, she doubted the ladies were expected to fight. Cassidy and Alvaro drew swords, prepared to engage the three men at the front, but that left Jonas to deal with the four at the back alone.
“Leave the carriage, and we’ll let you live,” said one of the highwaymen.
“Have you met my boys?” Aris’ quiet voice cut clear to the men at the front. “I suggest you think twice before startin’ something.”
“There are seven of us, old man . . . ”
Llew didn’t like those odds either. She slunk into the carriage, looked around for something useful and then clambered over the other luxury items to the writing set and retrieved the letter opener. She might not even the odds, but she was worth something. She watched through the small hole at the back of the cart.
Suddenly Anya cried out and Llew instinctively turned towards her. The stamping of hooves and the clash of steel on steel, the snorting of horses and the grunts and shouts of men filled the air all around the cart, and Anya pulled back into the covers. Llew swung back and looked out.
All four of the riders had converged on Jonas and, for a brief moment, he seemed swamped and certain to fall. But, miraculously, he held his own and more. With a knife in each hand, he parried
and struck back at every attack, his mount twisting and turning to keep him in the action and out of harm’s way, like a trained war horse. His blades whirled with a speed and accuracy that looked unnatural to Llew, and his skill appeared almost magical. Who were these people she’d got caught up with?
The highwaymen kept pressing, though judging from the shocked and panicky expressions on their faces, they had not expected any resistance, much less this deadly whirlwind. Still they outnumbered Jonas four to one, and he surely must tire or make an error soon. Llew untied the back of the carriage and pulled back the canvas. Taking careful aim, she flung the letter opener at one of the riders just as he was edging round behind Jonas. The handle struck him in the head and with a strange ‘uh!’ sound the rider fell, crashing into the dust and spooking his horse, which took fright and desperately tried to disentangle itself from the maelstrom, treading on its rider’s slack limbs before galloping into the trees.
The man’s downfall came as a further shock to the others, one of whom paused to look wild-eyed at Llew. It was a fatal mistake. Jonas plunged a knife into him and before the other two highwaymen recovered their wits he yanked his loaded crossbow from his saddle, levelling it at them. They clearly hadn’t reckoned on putting their lives on the line for a few belongings. One threw his knife at Jonas, who leaned to one side, letting it pass harmlessly by. As he straightened in his saddle and took aim the two riders turned and took off back up the road.
As suddenly as the fight had started it was over. There was a silence broken only by the horses’ heavy breathing.
Cassidy and Alvaro had killed two of the highwaymen and sent the last running. They regrouped about the carriage. Anya looked frightened and clung to Emylia for comfort while, if anything, the boys looked energised by the assault. Their eyes were wide, bright, and alert, and they could scarcely stop grinning. Apart from Jonas, who seemed unmoved.
“Well, there’s one more group of Aghacian bandits dispatched,” said Cassidy. “You think they’ll thank us?”
Llew said nothing. She was still staring at the knife embedded in the frame of the cart just a few inches from her head.
Llew picked up the letter opener from the road as Jonas claimed his knife from the fallen man. He had used knives from his vest, choosing to leave the bigger, ornate one in its holster. Llew helped him lift the body from the road and into the trees. She had to focus all her attention on not looking at the corpse that used to be a living, breathing man. Jonas seemed not to be bothered by it.
When they went to move the one Llew had struck with the letter opener, she exclaimed, startled. “He’s still breathing!”
“You brained him good, though,” said Jonas. “He’ll have a killer headache when he wakes.” His lips actually curled in a lop-sided smile. Llew’s lips twitched in an effort to suppress her own grin. She had made the angry man smile.
They shifted the unconscious bandit from the road, then removed the tack from the lingering riderless horses, leaving it all by the side of the road and scattering all but one of the animals into the forest. One was judged suitable for Llew to ride once she had footwear and better tack. In the meantime, he was tethered to the rear of the carriage with the pack horses.
“Thanks for your help,” said Jonas.
The gratitude was unexpected and Llew faltered in her attempt to clamber into the carriage. She shrugged. “I told you I could earn my way.”
* * *
The sun lowered, drawing the deep blue of a cool, crisp evening with it. They pulled off the road and up a narrow path that led to a clearing. Aris and Llew disembarked from the carriage to help the horses navigate between the trees and steer the wheels around holes and large bumps. They unhitched and hobbled the horses. A creek trickled nearby and Llew had the idle thought that perhaps it was the same one at which they had refilled their canteens at lunch. She helped the boys scout for dry deadwood for the fire while Aris and the girls set about preparing to reheat stew for dinner.
“I wanted to apologise,” she said to Jonas, brushing the dirt left by her load of sticks and small branches from her clothing. “About the knife–”
“Don’t mention it.”
“Oh.” Llew smiled at him, thinking she must have made amends with her help against the highwaymen. Her smile dropped when his expression remained stony. He hadn’t forgiven her. With one finger, and no change in expression, he beckoned her to follow him. He walked to their equipment lying not far from the horses, and drew two swords.
“Woo! Here we go,” said Cassidy, dumping his load of wood and joining them.
Jonas crossed the camp, absently swinging one of the swords, drawing curious looks from Anya and Emylia and a stern one from Aris.
“You sure that’s necessary?” asked Alvaro, joining the break-away group.
“Just wanna see what he can do,” said Jonas. Fifty paces from camp he turned and offered one of the swords to Llew. “If I’m ridin’ with him, I gotta know he has my back, don’t I?” He wiggled the handle at her when she didn’t take it immediately, and she tentatively lifted it from his grasp.
“He did alright this afternoon,” said Alvaro.
Jonas ignored him, taking his fighting stance.
Llew raised her sword between them, fixing her eyes on his. She concentrated on not letting him see that the weight of the steel weapon was already tiring her hungry muscles. It was a little different to the dull wooden ones she was used to.
He knocked her blade aside gently. He wasn’t expecting too much from her. Well, she would do her best to prove him wrong.
Concentrating on making it look good, she smacked his sword aside in reply. Guffaws issued from the cousins at the sideline. Jonas struck again, with more force but with plenty yet in reserve. Llew successfully parried and a wry smile crept across his lips. She smiled back and twisted her sword out from behind his, making a lunge for him. He stepped back, blocking her attack with his blade and pushing back to over-balance her. She recovered well, ducking out of the way and preparing for the next strike, but her foot landed on an unstable bit of ground and before she regained her balance he struck her blade, twisted it and stepped in, pinning her against a tree with his body, an elbow holding her head in place, his sword abandoned and his knife at her throat. The knife.
“Hey! Jonas–” Alvaro stepped up beside them but didn’t make a move to separate them or finish his complaint.
Right there Llew knew Jonas only took orders from Aris. She could be totally accepted by the rest of the group and still strike trouble if she didn’t get on Aris’ and Jonas’ good side. She was confident Aris didn’t have a problem with her – he had pressed her to travel with them, after all. Face pinned against the tree, she peered at Jonas out of the corner of her eye. He was studying her and she wondered if she had passed his test.
“Jonas–” Alvaro said again.
Llew held Jonas’ gaze, trying not to let him scare her. At least, not letting the fear show.
With a grunt, he pushed away, winding her. He turned and walked back to the camp. Llew watched him go while she rubbed her neck where his elbow had been. No real damage, just sore.
“Hey, sorry about that. I don’t know what’s got into him,” said Alvaro as Llew straightened her clothing.
“Don’t worry about it.” She’d win him over. She only needed them until they crossed from Aghacia to Phyos, anyway. Once on the great continent, the doorway to opportunity would be swung wide and Llew wouldn’t need anyone any more.
“He’s an ass.”
Llew looked at Alvaro, eyebrows raised. Alvaro didn’t seem the type to call people names, but there was the slightest curl to his top lip that suggested he didn’t much like Jonas.
“Ease up, Al. It’s a year ago today,” said Cassidy, stepping up beside them.
“Oh. Right.” Alvaro nodded.
“A year since what?” Llew asked.
Cassidy cocked his head. “Hmm, no.” He shook his head. “You’ll have to ask him.” He started
walking back to the camp. “But I’ll warn you now, he doesn’t like to talk about it.”
“Doesn’t like to talk about much of anything,” Alvaro muttered, before moving to follow Cassidy. Llew walked back to camp a step behind him.
“We made good time today,” Aris said, scooping stew onto tin plates and handing the first to Anya, the second to Emylia. “I had thought it might be dark by the time we made it here.” He sat back with his own plate, leaving the boys and Llew to serve themselves.
“How far to the next town?” asked Llew.
“We should make Orn tomorrow evening. It’s small, but they have an inn.”
“With a bar,” said Cassidy, with a grin.
“Beer,” Alvaro added.
“Girls.”
“I’m looking forward to a nice warm bath,” said Emylia.
“Oh, Emy,” said Anya. “We’re meant to be roughing it.”
“We are roughing it, dear,” Emylia said, her voice syrupy sweet. “Why, here we are about to spend a night in the open with nothing but canvas walls for privacy. But a young lady does not allow herself to smell like the animals with whom she travels.”
Cassidy raised an arm and made a show of sniffing his armpit.
Emylia waved a hand at him. “You know I meant the horses.”
“Oh, the horses! I was checkin’ I wasn’t getting to stinking like Alvaro.”
After dinner, Aris sat with Emylia, chatting quietly of old times. Llew wondered if they had been sweethearts in the past. There was something in the way they leaned into each other, conversing in hushed tones, their skin reflecting the camp fire’s flickering orange. To Llew, it felt as though the group was a family and Aris and Emylia were the parents. It brought a smile to her lips.
Alvaro and Cassidy spoke animatedly with Anya, who looked like a royal princess with her two pages as she sat perched on a fallen log, while the young men knelt below.