by Amanda Tero
“Before he died…did he say anything of importance?”
Jolin placed a hand on Raoul’s arm. Raoul gritted his teeth. Of course. How was the stranger to know what information he needed?
“Do you know who attacked him?” Jolin asked.
“Nay.”
“Did he mention any names?”
“The man could scarcely breathe.” Reynold narrowed his eyes. “Of what matter would it be to you?”
It would be impossible to work with this man. Raoul took a step toward the door.
“One last question,” Jolin said, “then we shall leave.”
Reynold waited.
“Was there a place that Nes frequented apart from home?”
“If ye’re looking for family, he had none.”
“Aye, we know. Yet you did not answer my question. Have you ever known Nes to frequent Abtshire?”
Reynold sighed and rubbed his face. “I suppose it makes no difference. Of late, I have heard of him speaking of trips to Abtshire. I know not why.”
“Thank you.” Jolin turned to Raoul and motioned him to follow him out the door.
“Abtshire?” Raoul whispered as the door closed behind them.
Jolin gave him a half-grin.
“How did you know?”
“Merely a suspicion, m’lord.”
Whatever those suspicions, it was time to act, and quickly.
Outside of Abtshire
Can you not go faster?” Bioti hissed.
Lia used one hand to steady herself, the other to keep hold of the reins. “We would go faster, had we taken the king’s highway.”
“Lower your voice, child! We are not going the direction of the king’s highway.”
“Nay, we are running. From what, pray tell? From your visitor?” Her stomach knotted as she said the words. She would give anything to know from whom Bioti was running. Whoever it was must be more terrifying than the sheriff, to lead her to steal from the man.
Bioti boxed Lia’s ear, making her jerk the reins. Hauch slowed.
“Focus on your driving.”
Lia sat up and urged Hauch forward, her heart pounding faster than the beat of Hauch’s hooves. And just what would you do if I did stop the horse—and let Sheriff Feroci find you? She didn’t dare say the words aloud. If there were some way for her to report Bioti’s theft, she would. But if she went on foot, Bioti would be miles away before she could find someone who trusted her word. I don’t want to be here! I don’t want to be your thief. Thief. She shuddered at the word. She didn’t have a choice. There was no one in all of Abtshire to whom she could flee. Except Dumphey and Noel. She pushed the thought aside. It was too late now.
The moon hid behind the trees, making the pathway hard to find. Geva and Helga moaned as the cart jolted. All because of Lia’s poor driving, Bioti would say.
She had to find a way out of this. Lia stared at Hauch’s broad back. If she could convince Bioti and her daughters to step off and lighten the load… Nay, they wouldn’t fall for such a prank. If they stopped to rest… Lia glanced sideways at Bioti. The woman was staring ahead, her eyes wide—whether from fear of what lay in these forests or fear of who may follow them, Lia didn’t know. Bioti would never agree to stop.
Why me? The question plagued Lia. First, she was born with a deformed foot, then placed in the care of someone like Bioti.
Bioti looked behind her then shoved Lia aside and grabbed the reins. Lia gripped the side of the cart, keeping herself from toppling over.
“You are slow at everything, child!” She slapped the leather over Hauch’s back. The horse picked up speed.
Lia gripped the seat with both hands as she looked behind her. A few specs of light flickered in the distance. Highwaymen? The sheriff’s men? There was no way to know at this distance.
The moaning from Geva and Helga grew louder.
“Hush, daughters, or it shall be the end of you!”
Geva made some comment, but the rumbling of the wheels covered it up.
“Where are they now?” Bioti whispered.
Lia glanced behind. The lights were larger. “Closer.” Her heart began pounding, harder than when she had stolen Hauch.
“How close?” Bioti’s voice rose in pitch.
“See for yourself.” Lia didn’t want to risk losing her grip on the wagon.
Bioti turned then muttered a curse as she pulled on the reins.
“What are we doing?” Lia asked, keeping her voice low.
“We are doing nothing.” Bioti threw the reins into Lia’s lap. “Helga, Geva, off quickly.” She hopped down from the cart then looked up at Lia. “You, keep going and do not stop.”
“But what if the men attack me?”
Bioti placed a hand on each of her daughters. “Then you didn’t heed my warning.” She stepped up to the cart and grabbed Lia. “You are out here alone. Make sure they understand that. Alone.”
She led her daughters into the shadowy forest. Lia tore her eyes away from Bioti’s retreating form and glanced back. Her throat went dry.
Abtshire
Not a word passed between Jolin and Raoul as they galloped down the road. The hoof beats of his hired horse seemed to chant, “Pray… Pray… Pray!”
I tried. Raoul’s hands were clammy where they gripped the reins. God, I have sought Thee. Hadn’t he? He silenced his conscience. His prayers had throbbed with, “Let me find her,” or other demands. That was prayer, was it not?
The silhouette of Abtshire rose in front of them. Jolin pulled his horse to a stop behind Raoul.
“Why are you stopping?” Raoul reined in even as he asked.
“What is our plan, m’lord?”
“Discover where Bioti is hiding.”
Jolin sniffed. “No one will open their doors to a stranger at midnight, unless he has an order from the king.”
Raoul shook his head. He wasn’t going to beg interference of his brother. “No sense in turning back tonight.” He heeled his horse to a walk.
“Mayhap. But you need a plan.”
Raoul let out a frustrated sigh. Pray. Really pray. That was what Elayne would suggest, and rightfully so. God hasn’t given me answers yet; just more questions and problems. Sometimes one needs to find the answers for themselves. God gave us a brain, not only prayer. Why did he fight against the thought of praying yet again?
Before he could figure out the answer, they were entering the streets of Abtshire. Jolin stopped his horse in front of a cottage. The windows were dark, like the rest of the cottages on the road. Raoul dismounted and walked to the door.
“I think it unwise, Raoul.”
Raoul gritted his teeth. “When did I give permission to use my given name?”
“It hasn’t bothered you before. I beg pardon, m’lord.” His apology sounded insincere.
Raoul clenched his fists, but shoved them into his pockets rather than knock on the door. He turned as the watchman approached.
“May I help you?” the watchman asked.
“Aye,” Jolin said. “We would like a room for the night.”
“The Lyre Inn is on the other side of town. You must be strangers in Abtshire.”
“Aye,” Raoul said. The man needed no explanation.
“One last thing,” Jolin said as the watchman turned. “Know you of a woman named Bioti?”
Raoul could have pummeled Jolin. The man kept his own rules, forbidding his lord to do one thing, and then taking his own initiative in another.
“She’s not here.”
Not here? Did that mean…
“But she was here?” Raoul asked, keeping eagerness from lacing his voice.
“Aye.”
“You are certain?”
“M’lord, surely there is more than one Bioti,” Jolin reasoned.
Raoul ground his teeth. Confounded man. His words dashed out Raoul’s hope like a bucket of cold water on wee embers just taking spark.
“Tell us of this Bioti,” Raoul said, forcing the words through
clenched teeth.
The watchman settled his bobbing lantern and gestured with his hands. “She was about this height, brown hair, harsh face. Well, all of her was harsh, really. She didn’t talk much. Kept to herself.”
The description was close enough. Raoul felt hope rise again.
“She up and left. Probably fleeing the sheriff’s pay, but he’ll catch her. Or whoever stole his cart. He doesn’t let anyone get away from him.” He started walking away. “Take the main road to the other end of town. You’ll find the inn.”
“Wait!” Raoul ran after the man. “Did Bioti have any children? Daughters?” He could feel desperation growing in his voice.
“Aye.”
“How many?”
The man raised his lantern until it blinded Raoul. “Why should you need to know?”
Bury these men who wouldn’t trust a stranger with basic information. “‘Tis a matter of…importance.” Something kept Raoul from disclosing his daughter’s assumed kidnapping to a stranger, even if it was a town’s watchman.
“Well, you came a day too late.”
“They left yesterday?”
“Close to it. A few hours ago.”
“Which way did they go?”
The watchman shook his head as he lowered his lantern. “I’ve said all that I′m telling you.”
“I am Lord Kiralyn—”
“Then you must speak to Sheriff Feroci or Lord Trey.”
Raoul ground his teeth as he spun on his heel and went back to Jolin. “Did you suspect she was here?”
“Only since talking with Reynold. No hard facts, though. Merely suspicion.”
“You should inform me even of suspicions.”
In the dim light, Raoul could see Jolin raise his eyebrows as if in surprise. Then, his face changed to something Raoul couldn’t quite read. “If my suspicions never turn into hard facts, then the last thing I want is to worry you into borrowing trouble.”
Raoul clamped his mouth shut before he spewed hateful words at his friend.
“Come, m’lord, we shall rest, then search in the morn.”
Outside of Abtshire
Lia’s whole body trembled as she slapped the reins on Hauch. He seemed to sense her desperation and hurried from walk to trot. It still was not fast enough. Every time she looked back, the torches shone bigger. The wagon lurched, throwing her to one side.
“Halt in the name of the king!”
Highway men? Likely not. Which made Lia shake harder. Even if she had stopped the cart when Bioti fled, she would never have gotten away through the tangled briars that snaked through the forest floor. Bioti knew that. A sickening knot tightened in Lia’s stomach.
Torches flashed past. Horsemen surrounded her. The cart stopped.
Lia clenched her hands over the reins and bowed her head, squeezing her eyes shut. If they were going to kill her here, she didn’t want to see it coming.
“Lia?”
She jerked her head up, looking into Dumphey’s face, filled with shock.
“What have you done?”
“‘Twasn’t me!” Lia’s heart pounded. “I promise!”
Men moved past Dumphey. Rough hands pulled Lia out of the cart. Their grip tightened as her feet hit the ground.
“You know her?”
“Aye.” Dumphey glanced at the men. “She can’t run away. You needn’t hold her thus.”
The grip loosened, making Lia’s stomach lurch. It wasn’t that Dumphey trusted her to not run away. He knew she couldn’t. Tears filled Lia’s eyes as she looked up at him. “‘Twas Bioti! She ordered me to steal the horse—”
“You cannot blame her for your part in this.” Dumphey avoided her gaze as he muttered the words.
“She is in these woods. She made me stop and drop her off when she saw you coming. I can point where they got off.” Lia tried to raise her hand, but the men’s grip kept her arms pinned to her sides.
“Did you seriously think you could get away with this, Lia?” Dumphey’s voice was low.
“I didn’t want to. Bioti…you must find—”
“Silence!” The harsh order was given by someone other than Dumphey.
Lia bit her tongue as tears streamed down her cheeks.
“You do not have orders to question her,” the man said to Dumphey, “but to track the thief.”
Dumphey’s glance toward Lia only sent the tears flowing faster. Then he turned his back to her.
The leader glared at Lia. “We will let the sheriff deal with you.”
The men holding Lia lifted her. This time, to toss her in the back of the cart.
“You there. Drive.”
Through her tears, Lia watched as Dumphey obeyed without a word. His shoulders slumped as he pulled the reins into his hands. The other men surrounded the cart, their torches flickering as thunder echoed through the air.
Lia huddled among the goods in the cart. The night temperature dropped as the wind began blowing harder. Life was unfair. Bioti could do one evil thing after another and get away with it, the blame always falling on Lia’s shoulders. Even Dumphey didn’t trust her, no matter how kind he had been to her. That was Bioti’s fault too. The woman had made her life miserable, torn her away from any friends she might have.
The tears didn’t stop their steady stream for the whole ride back to Abtshire. The cart stopped in front of Sheriff Feroci’s home and someone pounded on his door.
“Dumphey.” Lia’s voice was hoarse. The lad didn’t so much as move a muscle. “Dumphey, what are they going to do with me?”
“They oughta hang ye, like all thieves deserve!” The severe voice wasn’t Dumphey’s.
“Is it true?” Lia whispered. She reached out until her fingers brushed against Dumphey. His shoulders rose and fell. Somehow, she knew that was the only answer he would give her.
“A pretty thief, eh?” Sheriff Feroci walked up to the cart and looked in.
“Sir, I know you have no reason to believe me—”
“Eh, pretty enough for the dungeon. I don’t have time to deal with her tonight.” Feroci motioned to his men.
Once again, Lia was forced from the cart. The men seemed to easily drag her along, keeping her from using her feet. She willed the tears to stop flowing, but they only came faster as she was pulled to the dungeon.
She glanced back before they entered. Dumphey still sat motionless on the cart. He wouldn’t help her.
No one would.
Abtshire
One candle flickered its dim light at the desk. Jolin’s breathing rose and fell evenly, as it had the past hour or two. Raoul had been standing in front of the desk since Jolin lay down. His servant-friend had set Raoul’s Bible on the desk. It was a task he always did, yet tonight, he had seemed to do it more…meaningfully? He hadn’t said a word to Raoul, but he didn’t need to.
Raoul knew he needed to open the Scriptures, to read them like he had neglected to do the past few days, but something held him back.
He made his way back to the window and looked over the streets of Abtshire. There wasn’t much to see on this end of town. Sheriff Feroci’s home was in the hustle of town, not here on the outskirts. A few public places, a cottage or two. Everything was silent and dark.
He stood still, his thumb and forefinger caressing his stubbled chin. “Lord, I want to find her.” The same words had echoed in his mind over and over, never changing. “I have to find her. And soon.” His lips moved, though no words came out.
Raoul shifted his gaze from the empty streets to the sky. Clouds overtook the midnight palette, refusing to let the moon through their density. Only a few stars peeked out in gaps left by the clouds. The heavy painting above him was a completely different picture than the night before, where stars sparkled as far as the eye could see.
When I consider Thy heavens, the work of Thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which Thou hast ordained;
The words flowed through his mind—the first portion of Bible he had allowed himself to meditate on in
his search.
What is man, that Thou art mindful of him?
Raoul swallowed. He hadn’t been spending the last few days telling God what he wanted…had he? Pride. That was what held him back from truly seeking and listening to God. He pressed his head against the window, listening as the rain started to pelt against it.
“Father, I’m sorry.” The words seemed so shallow, yet it was where he needed to begin anew. He walked back to the desk, this time sitting down. He laid a hand on his Bible, the smooth leather sending him comfort. Not as much comfort as he knew the words inside held. He opened it, letting the pages flutter open. Proverbs. That was where one went for wisdom, was it not?
Trust in the Lord with all thine heart;
In his frantic haste to find Ellia, had he trusted in the Lord with all of his heart? Was not Ellia a part of his heart? Did he truly trust the Lord with her, even though he knew not of her whereabouts?
And lean not unto thine own understanding.
Raoul’s eyes closed. Mayhap he did not know what was best in the search for his daughter. When all paths led to a dead end, he didn’t know which way was right—according to his own understanding. But didn’t this verse mean that following God required trusting Him, even when one could not see the path ahead? Raoul opened his eyes again. Though he knew the passage by heart, seeing the words printed on the page made the message sink in.
In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.
How had he acknowledged God these past days? He hadn’t. That was the simple truth. Should he wonder, then, why it seemed as if God’s direction was silent?
Raoul sank to the floor, onto his knees. “Father above, I beseech Thee for Thy forgiveness.” He curled his fingers into a fist. “Thou seest how greatly I desire to be reunited with my daughter again. I want her safely here. More now than ever. But, Lord, I realize I need to be surrendered to Thee.” His fists clenched tighter, his fingernails slicing into his palms. “Help me to surrender.” Gradually his fists loosened. He bowed his head lower and reached his arms in front of him, hands open wide. “Thy will be done.”