A Fugitive's Kiss

by Jaime Clevenger

  “She’s right—you can’t trust anything he’s said,” Darin warned. They started down the path to the docks at a quick pace. Before they had gone far, Aysha spotted Cyrus coming up the hill toward them. He was talking animatedly with two soldiers. Aysha motioned for Darin to follow her and ducked into an alleyway. Cyrus and the soldiers passed their spot without noticing them.

  “That’s him,” she whispered.

  “They’re hunting…I can smell it.”

  The look on Darin’s face was dark and Aysha felt the same swell of uneasiness that she’d had in Cyrus’s house. Darin motioned with one finger held to her lips and then slipped out of the alley to follow the soldiers. Watching Darin track a short distance behind the soldiers, she reluctantly followed several more steps behind. She kept to the edge of the path, where trees and fences provided some concealment. Cyrus raised his hand, motioning for the soldiers to stop before they reached his house. He pointed to the woman with the baby—she was wearing the scarf now. Her back was to the soldiers, and Aysha realized instantly that from this angle, the woman could easily be mistaken for herself.

  One of the soldiers already had an arrow nocked in his bow. He pulled the string taut and Darin leapt at him, sword in hand. He loosed the arrow just as she struck him. The sword struck his side and dropped him to the ground. The mother’s scream pierced the air as the arrow passed just in front of the baby. An arrow from the other soldier’s bow embedded itself in a pair of trousers hanging on the line moments later. Realizing they were being attacked, the second soldier dropped his bow and drew his sword.

  Aysha could hardly watch and at the same time couldn’t turn away from the fight. Drawn by the screams of the woman with the baby, others had come from their homes to watch as well. The sound of swords clashing was deafening.

  Suddenly, though, Darin’s sword was on the ground. The soldier made a quick lunge at her, but she had the knife from her calf already in hand. She parried his sword with the short blade and when he lost his footing in mid-lunge, she buried the knife in his chest.

  Cyrus backed away from Darin and the two soldiers. He turned to make an escape and then spotted Aysha. With one look, he took off at a dead run. The neighbors also made note of his leaving, and one yelled after him, “Keep running, rat.”

  The soldier who had been struck first was still alive and cussing loudly. The other was in the throes of death and made only a gasping sound. Without thinking, Aysha went up to the first soldier and pulled back his coat. She found the place where the sword had entered him. Blood oozed from it, but there was no great gushing. It was possible that he might survive. He writhed on the ground, making a great scene while the fellow next to him took his final breath.

  “You’ll live. Hold pressure to this spot.” She pulled his hand to the wound and gave him a handkerchief. He screamed at the pressure but relaxed a bit after she told him again that he would certainly live, given how ornery he seemed.

  Darin touched her arm. “He still has a knife on him.”

  Aysha backed away from him then. The neighbors were crowded around them and everyone was talking at once. The woman with the baby was standing next to Darin, her eyes fixed on the soldiers. The dead soldier posed no problem for the neighbors, it seemed. It was easy enough for a body to disappear. But the live soldier…

  Whispers went round that Darin should finish the job. Others disagreed, wanting him to wallow in his own pain. Somehow, everyone had learned that the soldiers had shot at the woman and baby and that Darin had come along in time to spoil the soldier’s aim. An older man with an air of authority thanked Darin and told her firmly they’d “take care of the rest.” When Aysha made to object, Darin motioned for her to follow. The set of her jaw told Aysha there was no point in arguing.

  Baylor, snoozing in the sunshine, shook himself awake when Darin hopped onto the boat. Seeming to sense the urgency with which Darin moved, he rose quickly to go complete his own errand, leaving them with the whispered advice that though the boat had already been searched by soldiers, he guessed they might return.

  As soon as he’d gone, Darin began in a low voice, “I don’t think you’ll meet again with Marian’s cousin.”

  “I hope I never hear that man’s name again—let alone see his awful face.”

  She’d known in the pit of her stomach that Cyrus wasn’t to be trusted, but she’d never guessed that he’d help to have her killed.

  “Cyrus gave me that scarf…I had no idea that he’d use it to mark me.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “The mother and that baby were nearly killed.”

  Darin took Aysha’s hand. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  Aysha pulled out the bronze locket. “He gave me this too. I’m surprised he didn’t keep it. My grandmother’s locket…I gave it to Tobias’s neighbor the day we left Tiersten to pass on to Marian. I asked her only to send it when she wanted me to return…”

  Darin took the locket and turned it over and over. She sniffed it and then wrinkled her nose. Finally she handed it back to Aysha. “Don’t open it.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t like the smell of it.” A soldier walked up the pier, and Darin continued in a whisper, “Sound travels well over water. It isn’t safe to talk here.” She went below deck and Aysha followed. The nausea returned as soon as Aysha dropped into the hull, but she decided being spotted by a soldier was worse than vomiting.

  “The locket’s clearly a message. Marian wants me to return. But can I trust it, coming from Cyrus? And after what just happened—I don’t want to think of going back.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Darin said. “The soldier I met in the alley—Illyan. He’s a seer. We’ve many friends in common…and more shared enemies. He said that the king’s counselor is forming alliances. King Bairndt’s death has been predicted. They say the winds are changing.”

  “I don’t want to know about the changing winds,” Aysha said, recalling the mutterings of the old widow. “Or about predicting anyone’s death.”

  Darin continued, “We would have a strong ally if we joined with Telvin—the king’s counselor. He gives the orders to the soldiers in the king’s absence, but more than that the soldiers like him better than the king.”

  “Is he planning to overthrow the king to take his place? Or to kill him?”

  “Telvin wouldn’t kill Bairndt. He’s loyal.”

  “But if he wants the king’s job and the soldiers prefer him to the king…” Aysha shook her head. “If he took care of it, I wouldn’t be needed.”

  “Telv wouldn’t kill him. But I’m not certain that he’d stand in the way of someone else doing the job.”

  “Killing isn’t exactly a job.”

  “Sometimes it is,” Darin returned. “Many of the king’s soldiers don’t care who is in charge so long as they are fed, given something to kill and allowed their pint of ale. Those men will follow the king’s orders without thinking.”

  “And as the king’s counselor, isn’t Telvin to blame for everyone they kill? For the Tiersteners that starve because of the king’s tax?”

  “Telvin can only do so much while Bairndt’s still in power. The king needs to be replaced, Aysha. Telvin’s organizing soldiers he can trust. A revolt is tricky. It would be much easier to take control if Bairndt simply died. Telvin could take over in Caratia and you could choose the new king of Tiersten—someone Telvin could form an alliance with—everyone would win.”

  “Everyone? You make it sound so simple.” Aysha closed her eyes as a swell of nausea cramped her belly. “I still don’t see why I have any part in this.”

  “Because you came to Tiersten with your grandmother’s locket,” Darin said. “We need to send word to the Elders of Tiersten that the king’s army is not as unified as they seem. If the men in Tiersten and the neighboring farmlands can band together and join with Telv when the moment comes, there’s a chance…”

  Aysha was too spent from the day to argue. She agreed to Darin’s suggestion that she
remain below deck so as not to be seen in case Marian’s cousin was looking for her. Darin went above deck to keep watch, wearing Baylor’s wide-brimmed hat to conceal her face in case anyone was also looking for her.

  Her stomach was taut with cramps. She curled up on the bunk with her eyes closed and tried not to think of Cyrus searching the docks. Instead, her mind returned to the sunny spot below the clothesline and she saw again the mother hanging the clothes and the baby with the scarf. If the arrow had found its mark, the mother or baby would have died, and she would have been to blame.

  Darin didn’t mention the soldier she’d killed. Certainly she had made the right choice to stab the soldier and save the innocent mother’s life, but Aysha was thrown by the thought that Darin could be numb to what had happened.

  Tears stung her eyes and she reached for her handkerchief, only remembering then that she’d given it to the wounded soldier. It was likely that he had already been put out of his misery by the neighbors. Although she knew it would be too risky to allow him to live, she was glad to have left before witnessing another death.

  Baylor’s whistle signaled his return a short while later. He’d overheard talk of someone matching Darin’s description being wanted for the murder of two soldiers. It wasn’t clear if he thought Darin had committed the deed or was worried that she would be mistaken for the one who had. Darin steered the conversation to the clouds gathering overhead and it was quickly decided to leave. Aysha knew by the change in the boat’s rocking that they had untied from the pier and pushed off. Her relief at leaving Eldering, and therefore Cyrus, was overshadowed by the impulse to vomit.

  The rains started not long after they left Eldering. Over the next few hours, Darin and Baylor dropped below deck to give her reports. The boat rocked from side to side and Aysha didn’t dare try standing. She chewed on licorice root she’d brought along and worried that the wind whipping overhead would throw the boat off course.

  By nightfall, Darin and Baylor came down to eat. They were dripping wet and complaining about the cold. Darin offered her a bit of food, but Aysha couldn’t manage even water. She retched bile every few hours. The recipe of the tea she might have brewed, if only she had brought her herbs, repeated in her mind. Darin asked after the locket and Aysha found enough strength to dig it out of her pocket and hand it to Baylor.

  Baylor raised the locket to his ear and immediately dropped it to the ground. The locket split open and a scorpion uncurled its tail. Aysha shrieked at the sight of it. Only a moment earlier, the creature had been close enough to her chest to deal a deadly sting. Darin’s boot stomped the body of the scorpion a second later. No one spoke for a long moment and the only sounds were the sloshing waves and everyone’s breathing.

  Finally Darin reached down and picked up the locket. She turned it back and forth and then, once satisfied that it was empty, latched the hinge. She passed it back to Aysha, shaking her head. “That bastard will run backwards into a knife before long.”

  “He wanted me dead, one way or another.”

  “More likely he wanted the gold that would come of it. I heard from that soldier that King Bairndt has offered a bounty for you.”

  A roll of thunder broke above and the rains pounded louder on the deck. Baylor glanced at Darin.

  Aysha raised herself up on one elbow. “Is the storm bad?”

  “No,” Darin said.

  But at the same time Baylor said, “Yes.”

  Aysha rolled over and closed her eyes. “Maybe they didn’t need to hide a scorpion in that locket or send soldiers to shoot me. Maybe I was meant to die in this boat.”

  “It’s only a little rain,” Darin said.

  “But maybe she’s not meant to go back to Maylek,” Baylor said softly. “My mother said something…”

  “She says a lot of nonsense, Baylor. You know that.”

  Baylor sighed.

  Aysha wondered if he thought that she wouldn’t hear as their conversation continued, a low, rumbling distraction from the clapping thunder. What if the rains were her fault?

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The rains didn’t let up for weeks, and many in the low-lying sections of Maylek saw their homes washed to sea. There was a steady stream of newly homeless families bedded in the barn and the widow’s cottage. Bed mats were strewn everywhere and there wasn’t a bit of uncovered ground from the kitchen to the back rooms. Aysha was kept busy tending to sore throats and the aches and pains that came from the cold and the brooding. Darin longed for a quiet moment alone with her, but there were ears and eyes trained on them always.

  When two days of sunshine came finally, the mud-caked townsfolk began to smile when they greeted one another. The third day was bitterly cold and foggy, but still there was no rain. The days were noticeably shorter while the nights stretched cold and long. Everyone hoped the autumn monsoon was past, but no one trusted the clouds.

  Darin took one of the small fishing rigs out with Baylor, and they brought in their best catch in weeks. On the return, Baylor said, “You’ll be leaving soon. And I’ll go back to fishing alone.”

  “Is that what the widow said?”

  Baylor nodded. “I’d like you to take my grandfather’s old sword. The one you’ve gotten used to.”

  “I can’t take your grandfather’s sword.”

  “My mother said you’d need it. She insisted you take that one—not any of the others. Anyway, it’s the one you’ve practiced with. And I won’t give you mine.” He grinned. The smile slipped away as he added, “She’s rarely wrong. You’ll need the sword for where you’re going. And that old one you brought with you has got a rusted handle.” He stared out into the fog, as if his gaze could penetrate more than the hundred feet they could see in front of the boat. “I’d come with you if there wasn’t another little one on the way.”

  “I wish I could stay in Maylek forever.”

  “Aysha can’t stay.”

  Darin nodded. They hadn’t talked about it, but Baylor seemed to understand that the widow knew the truth.

  “You’ll have to wait until you can cross the river. There’s no way you’d get Aysha into a boat again.”

  Baylor was right. Aysha wouldn’t step foot in a boat again unless her life depended on it. And they couldn’t leave Onyx or Cobalt behind.

  * * *

  Aysha was waiting for them when they docked the boat. She rarely came down to the docks and her face was ashen. Baylor, sensing that something was amiss, volunteered to clean the fish. He’d drop by later with her share and sell the rest.

  “She’s been in the kitchen all morning boiling strange things,” Aysha said. “Yelling at me—that she’ll have a knife at our throats if we stay another night. She’s says I’ll bring another storm if I don’t leave and that this time many will die. It’s nonsense but…”

  “I’ll get the horses ready,” Darin said.

  “I already did,” Aysha said. “They had an extra bit of hay and grain and are saddled in the barn. Our things are packed. But I don’t know where we can go. It’s too wet to try the climb back to Tiersten and the river has us locked in on this side of Maylek, not that I’d want to chance a visit to Eldering…”

  “We won’t stop in Eldering. We’ll press all the way to Caratia. Wait for me in the barn.” Darin ran to catch up with Baylor. She’d need his help getting across the river.

  Baylor rode one of the geldings he usually lent out with the wagon. The trail was muddy and the going slow. It was dusk by the time they made it to the crossing.

  “I’ve never seen the river this high,” Baylor said. He pointed to a jagged bit of wood still attached to a tree stump. “There’s part of the footbridge. The rest of it’s been washed away.”

  Swollen and churned to brown from mud, the water raced past. Darin glanced at Aysha and, sensing her fear, decided not to state her own concerns aloud. She dug out the long rope they’d taken from the fishing boat and handed one end to Baylor. He tied this to a tree and kept the extra line coiled i
n his hands. Darin tied the other end about her waist. She tested the knot and then gave Baylor a nod. If she lost her footing, he’d pull her back to shore.

  She took Onyx’s reins and stepped into the water. The current was strong, but she found good footing between rocks. The mare followed her reluctantly. When they neared the center of the river, the water abruptly rose to Darin’s chin. She took another step forward, searching for a rocky foothold, but lost her balance. Fighting the current with each stroke, she focused on the far shore. Onyx pulled ahead, thrashing in the water and ripping the reins from Darin’s grasp. She managed to reach the opposite bank and leapt out of the water, giving a great shake as soon as she had all four feet on solid ground. Darin swam hard, the freezing water numbing her flesh. When she finally reached the shore, her arms were weak and her legs shook.

  Once she had her bearings, Darin realized how far downstream she was of Aysha and Baylor. They hollered and waved at her, but she only managed a nod. Raising her arm was too difficult. She hiked up the muddy bank until she found a tree to tie the rope to. Onyx met her, nuzzling at her hand as if asking forgiveness for leaving her to cross the river alone. Darin tested the rope with a tug and then waved.

  She couldn’t hear their conversation, but Baylor seemed to be coaching Aysha. Reluctantly, Aysha took hold of the rope with one hand. She kept Cobalt’s reins in the other hand and started walking across. Cobalt spooked as soon as the water was above his knees. He reared and the white of his eyes shone. Onyx whinnied, prancing back and forth on her side of the bank, and the gelding set his eyes on her as he resolutely dipped lower in the water. Soon he was passing Aysha. They had neared the deepest point of the river, and the horse was swimming hard, clearly panicked. Cobalt pulled forward suddenly, and Aysha lost her hold on the rope. Darin jumped into the water, her arms and legs still thick with the chill, and swam toward Cobalt, not seeing Aysha. The horse pushed past her and then Aysha’s head bobbed in the water ahead of her.