The Way of Pain

by Gregory Mattix

  After a minute, Rafe reappeared. “It’s all clear.”

  He held the branches of a thick bush aside while the women squeezed past him and into a small cave probably five or six paces deep, although a bit of light was coming through a narrow opening, likely a tunnel dug by some small animal. Sianna could just barely stand up inside, her hair not quite brushing the earthen ceiling, rough with protruding roots and stones.

  Iris, taller than her, had to lean her head down to pass inside, and Rafe had to stand nearly doubled over.

  “It’s not much, but it should stay dry and provide a good hiding spot so we can rest.” Rafe sat down heavily just inside the entrance. He removed his helm and ran his fingers through his thick mop of sweaty hair.

  “Thank you, Rafe. This will work admirably.” Sianna forced a smile to her lips, which pleased the guard. She sat down with Iris a bit further within, leaning against the sloped wall and watching nervously outside.

  “I’ll keep watch if you ladies want to sleep for a bit,” the guard offered.

  “However could we sleep like this?” Iris wondered aloud. She looked wan and frightened, leaning against Sianna as if the young queen could provide her with any strength.

  But she couldn’t. Sianna was barely holding onto her own self-control by her fingernails, fearing that she would break down at any moment. Her entire family was dead, and she suddenly found herself the monarch of a war-torn kingdom, on the run for her life. She had no strength to spare for her friend.

  “Just try, Iris,” Sianna told her with some irritation. She knew sleeping in a dry cave hidden in the woods would be the least of their worries should they survive the next hours and days.

  Sianna wrapped herself tightly in her cloak and lay down on the ground. She tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable, attempting to clear away roots and stones beneath her.

  However do the men go to war in worse conditions than this? I’m hiding in a cave, afraid of every shadow and worrying that I can’t get comfortable enough to take a nap.

  Her irritation with herself faded as she thought of her father and brothers, lying cold and dead in the mud somewhere, hacked apart by the same Nebaran blades that had slain her mother, Sir Colm, and Brother Horst, then tried to claim her own life. She shook with silent tears and after a time felt Iris’s comforting arm around her. Somehow, she managed to eventually find an exhausted, nightmare-filled sleep.

  Chapter 21

  The loud snap of a twig woke Sianna, and she sat up with a gasp. Her muscles were stiff from the hard ground, and she felt a bruise on her hip from where she’d slept on a knot of roots.

  A hulking silhouette loomed in the entrance of the cave, crashing its way through the concealing bush.

  Sianna scrambled to her feet, smacking her head on a low-hanging root while trying to yank her sword from its sheath. She had adjusted her belt around to her back during her attempt to sleep and couldn’t get the right angle to draw the sword. Panicked, she pulled her scabbard around and then yanked her sword free, where it clinked loudly against the cave’s earthen ceiling, dislodging a spray of dirt and pebbles into her hair and face. When Sianna managed to blink the dirt from her eyes, she saw Rafe standing in the entrance, frozen, and Iris sitting up, looking at her with worry plain on her face.

  “Princess—uh, Your Majesty, I apologize for waking you. I went out to get some firewood since it’s getting dark and will get cold soon.” The big man watched her for a moment then set down his armload of firewood.

  Sianna lowered her sword, feeling a total fool. “Of course, I was just… tense, with the circumstances.” She tried to clear her dry throat and coughed.

  Outside, the daylight was fading to gray.

  “I also found a creek and brought some water, if you’re thirsty.” Rafe held up a full water skin, which she gratefully took.

  She took a long swallow of cool water before passing the skin to Iris. After a few deep breaths, she felt calmer and more in control. Noticing the weariness etched on Rafe’s face, she asked, “Have you slept, Rafe?”

  “Nay, Your Majesty. I stood guard while you and Lady Iris rested.”

  “Get some sleep. You look almost dead on your feet. Iris and I shall keep watch.”

  Rafe looked about to protest, but after a moment, he sank down to his knees and nodded. He positioned himself across the entrance again, likely to prevent any assailants from getting to Sianna without first getting past him, and within moments was snoring softly.

  Sianna sat down again, staring out of the cave as night fell. She’d never felt so useless in her life. She knew nothing of survival, how to find food or water or even to build a fire for warmth.

  At least I learned some swordsmanship, so I can defend myself as best as I can. She said a silent prayer to Sol for Sir Colm to find eternal peace.

  Iris shifted beside her, drawing her attention. Her handmaiden looked even more miserable than Sianna felt. Her ankle was swollen and her face pale with dark circles under her eyes, her beautiful mane of blond hair sticking out in disarray.

  Poor Iris. She’s even more out of her element here. I have to be strong for her—for my people. Those Nebaran dogs won’t find me cowering like a mouse waiting to die. I will survive this and come out of it stronger, like forged steel in the smithy. I have to—there’s no other choice besides dying.

  “What will we do, Sianna?” Iris stared at Rafe a moment then outside into the gathering darkness. “I’m afraid.”

  Sianna clutched her hand. “So am I. We’ll survive and carry on—that’s what we’ll do. We’ll link up with Lord Lanthas and Sir Edwin and the army and take our kingdom back.”

  “How can you be so strong?” Iris stared at her as if barely recognizing her.

  Because my father didn’t sire any cowards or weaklings.

  She wanted to reply with some bravado that she didn’t quite feel, but she did not. Instead, she told Iris the truth. “The only other choice is to curl up, succumb to our fear, and die. And I won’t do that.”

  Iris gave her a wan smile. “Your parents would be very proud of you.”

  Sianna felt alternately sad and heartened at the same time. This time, the sadness lost that battle.

  ***

  She let Rafe sleep well into the night. The woods were dark and cold through the screen of the brush outside, and a wind had picked up. Sianna had no desire to go stumbling around out there. She figured they’d best wait until morning, when they were rested, to continue onward.

  Hunger was becoming an issue. She hadn’t eaten the whole day, and her stomach was a tight, grumbling knot. Water seemed to keep hunger at bay a bit, but that wouldn’t last. They needed to maintain their strength.

  Rafe shuddered awake, startling Sianna, who was on the verge of dozing off herself, her cloak pulled tightly around her with Iris’s warmth sleeping fitfully pressed up beside her.

  The big man blinked and looked around as if he had no clue where he was. After a moment, he sighed and got to his knees.

  “Getting cold in here,” he said.

  “I think a storm is blowing in but thought it best to let you sleep. We can continue in the morning when we are well-rested.”

  “Aye, that’s good thinking. Should I start a fire? It’ll provide warmth but will get smoky in here, and if there’s still Nebaran pigs in the woods, they might see the light or smell the smoke.”

  Sianna thought a moment. “We’d best go without for now. If it gets much colder, we can light a fire. There’s a draft passing through, so the smoke shouldn’t be too bad.”

  Rafe nodded. He shifted his bulk until he was leaning against the wall beside the entrance again. “Rest some more, Your Majesty. I’ll keep watch.”

  Sianna acquiesced. After a time, she fell asleep, even as cold and uncomfortable as she was.

  ***

  The next morning, Sianna awoke shivering to find a snowstorm outside. Already, several inches had fallen, and it was still coming down in thick flakes. The tempera
ture had plummeted, and she could see her breath in the cave.

  “Reckon we better wait this out, Your Majesty,” Rafe said. He was placing some of the wood he’d gathered into a small pile. “If you don’t object to some warmth?”

  “Please, that will be nice.” Sianna watched with interest as Rafe took out flint and steel. “And you can stop with the Your Majestys when it’s just us here. Same as in the training yard.”

  She made a mental note of how he struck sparks into some small tinder of dried leaves and pine needles until a wisp of smoke curled out. After a moment, he breathed on it gently, and some small twigs caught fire. A few minutes later, they were all warming their hands over the welcome flames as larger sticks burned.

  Sianna picked up the water skin to find it nearly empty. She stepped over Rafe and tried to fill it with snow collected outside the mouth of the cave, but the water skin’s narrow opening became clogged right away.

  After watching her a moment, Rafe wiped out his helm with a sleeve and scooped up a bunch of snow in it. “Old soldier’s trick,” he said with a smile. “My da taught it to me.” He set the helm near the fire, and the snow quickly melted.

  Iris wrinkled her nose when the guard offered the helm for them to drink from. Sianna graciously accepted it and drank deeply. Eventually, Iris’s thirst got the better of her, and she drank a bit as well.

  Rafe dug around in a pouch on his belt and pulled out a few strips of salted meat, which he offered to the women. They gratefully accepted a piece each. The tough, stringy meat tested Sianna’s teeth, and the salty taste was a shock to her taste buds, but she found it delicious. It didn’t do much for her grumbling stomach but would stave off starvation for a time.

  Thank the gods Rafe is with us. Iris and I would’ve been captured and killed within the first hour in the woods. If we’d somehow miraculously escaped, we’d have frozen to death or died of thirst out here.

  “Tell me about your home, Rafe. You grew up in that village we’re heading to, didn’t you?”

  “Aye, Your, uh, Sianna. Born and raised in Oakwood, just a few hours’ walk from here. I played in these woods as a boy.” His round face took on a faraway look. “Me and my brother used to play knights and goblins, running around with sticks for swords. We both wanted to be adventuring knights, traveling the lands and defending folk from monsters, rescuing ladies in distress, that sort of thing.”

  “You’ve certainly proven good at the rescuing ladies in distress,” Sianna said with a smile.

  The big man blushed and cleared his throat nervously although he looked pleased. He finished the water with a long gulp then refilled his helm with more snow.

  “What about your brother?” Iris asked when he was settled again.

  “He left with some adventurers when I’d only seen thirteen summers. He was four years older and wanted to see the kingdom. Never saw him again, but I heard word those adventurers, the Silver Swords, they called themselves, went off to try to slay a dragon and got themselves all killed.”

  “I’m sorry,” Iris said as Sianna nodded agreement.

  “Ah, well… that was a long time ago. Who’s to say? I prefer to imagine Rolf found his adventure and treasure and is living happy with a wife and children somewhere.”

  Sianna smiled, feeling sad for the guard. She wondered if her missing brother, Dorian, had managed to escape somehow. They said he was presumed captured or killed, but that doesn’t make it so. The thought that he was out there somewhere gathering stout-hearted men across the countryside to form a resistance made for a pleasant daydream.

  As the snow fell steadily and the day passed, Sianna grew restless. She yearned to get up and strike out for Rafe’s village of Oakwood but knew the travel would be treacherous, especially with Iris and her bad ankle. She contented herself with bandaging Iris’s ankle with a strip torn from the hem of her friend’s dress. Iris protested at first, but Sianna shushed her, telling her she’d only slow them down if she didn’t let her help. Iris reluctantly agreed after that.

  Rafe drew a whetstone across the blade of his broadsword. At first, the rasping set Sianna’s nerves on edge, but after a time, the monotonous sound became almost soothing.

  “Your Majesty?” Rafe offered her the whetstone.

  Sianna hadn’t honed her sword before since she’d never used it until two nights prior. Sir Colm had shown her the basics of caring for her weapons, of course, so once she drew the sword, she knew enough to not make a fool of herself.

  She froze upon drawing the sword, seeing crusted blood along the tip where she’d stabbed the assassin. I wounded a man… could’ve killed him, even. The thought wasn’t as unsettling as she thought it would be. She’d heard stories of soldiers who were traumatized after their first kill. Is there something wrong with me I don’t feel that way? It was them or us. Her jaw tightened as she stared at the dried blood, and pride crept in.

  “Your parents would be very proud of you,” Iris had said to her earlier. She thought that likely was true, knowing she’d defended herself and her friends from harm.

  “Your blade has been christened with the enemy’s blood.” Rafe looked at her with admiration. “You’ll be our warrior queen.”

  Sianna laughed at the thought. “I’ll be happy with survivor queen for now.” She soaked the hem of her cloak with water and used it to wipe the crusted blood off her blade, then she began to hone the edge even though it was already very keen. The rhythm was soothing, however, and she quickly put aside her troubled thoughts, lost in the monotony of the whetstone on steel.

  ***

  They set out early the next morning. The sun rose in a clear blue sky, shining on a blindingly white snowy forest. The air initially retained its chill, yet as the morning wore on, the forest was filled with the dripping and occasional plops of snow melting and falling from trees. They slogged through six or so inches of slushy snow on the ground.

  The thought occurred to Sianna that they would be easy to track by the deep furrows they were leaving.

  Iris struggled along gamely, moving better with her injured ankle bound tightly, along with a makeshift staff to support her weight. Rafe had scrounged a sturdy stick for her to use. Even so, their pace was much slower than hoped, and by the time they stopped to rest at noon, Rafe estimated they were still at least an hour from Oakwood.

  During their brief stop to rest, their pursuers found them.

  A sharp crack sounded a short way off in the woods in the direction they had come. The trio froze, anxious eyes probing the snow-shrouded forest.

  “Tracks over here!” a rough voice shouted. “Fresh ones, at that.”

  “About damned time,” said another. “Tramping around out here in a damned blizzard about froze my cock off. Imagine poor Lemmy—he ain’t got much to lose.”

  Harsh laughter followed, along with the distinctive sounds of slush splashing underfoot. A horn blew—a long, shrill note that shattered the fragile stillness of the forest.

  “Run,” Rafe hissed. He drew his sword as silently as he could, waving the women onward.

  Sianna and Iris were already on their feet, exchanging terrified glances.

  “Rafe, no.” Sianna reached out to tug at his sleeve.

  But the big man was already moving away from them. He pressed his bulk tightly against the thick trunk of an ash tree a few steps away from their trail in the snow, which was so obvious a blind man could’ve followed it, and he held his bared broadsword at his side.

  Sianna uttered a curse she’d heard from servants and guardsmen around the castle. She grasped Iris’s hand, and they ran.

  Their pursuers shouted in triumph, hearing the sounds of their flight. Iris stumbled and nearly fell after only a dozen paces, dropping her staff.

  “Run, Sianna! I’ll only slow you down.” She bent down awkwardly to recover the tree branch then turned, hefting it as a cudgel.

  “Climb on my back.” At Iris’s astonished face, Sianna added, “I can carry you.”

  “
I-I cannot. You must run, Sianna!”

  At that moment, their pursuers entered the clearing where they’d rested. Sianna counted five men, with several more converging in the distance.

  “There!” the lead man bellowed. His stringy, graying hair, pointed beard, and hooded eyes gave him the hard look of a veteran, and a malicious one at that. “Get those wenches. The warlord didn’t say what condition they had to be in. You ever had a piece of royal arse before, lads? Now’s your chance!”

  Iris’s face drained of what little color she still had, and she jumped on Sianna’s back. Startled at the abruptness, Sianna stumbled a couple steps until she managed to recover her balance. Once she did, she bore Iris with relative ease, silently giving thanks for her fitness due to her weapon training.

  The men were passing Rafe’s position when the big man jumped out with a cry. “Courage and honor!”

  His sword took the nearest man in the ear, chopping deep into his head and dropping him in the snow, which quickly turned a shockingly bright shade of crimson. He ran the next man through the gut with a powerful stab.

  Then the other three recovered from their surprise and were on him. Rafe parried and chopped, trying to dodge away, but the footing was treacherous. He slipped, avoiding a slash at his face, but managed to recover and then was fighting for his life.

  Sianna froze, momentarily wanting to help her friend but knowing the guardsman was buying them time. She once more uttered the oath that would’ve made her mother furious, then she was was running, striving to hold the tears of helpless anger at bay.

  Iris bobbed on her back awkwardly until she squeezed her knees together more tightly while Sianna gripped her calves. Snow sloshed underfoot, and a thorn bush snagged at her breeches as she ran. Rafe and his opponents were out of sight, sounds of ringing steel and grunts of pain still coming from behind. Sianna focused on the ground ahead to watch her footing. She glanced up again just as four more assassins plunged from the woods right in front of her.