I cleared my throat and returned to the issue of the ransom. “I will go prepare the ransom tomorrow, should they fail to find her. I recommend we leave early to give us plenty of time to get there.”
Madox nodded briefly as he responded. “I will go with you to get the coin, Lady Carys. I would suggest that we divide it up and put it in plain looking saddlebags as to not draw attention.” He glanced towards Brynmor and added. “It might be a good idea if you come too.”
Brynmor had been strangely silent and sighed before nodding. “Fine, but only because Lady Carys has skinny girl arms and doesn’t have the muscle to carry one of them herself.” Madox’s eyes narrowed, Brynmor’s poorly-timed humor not sitting well with him...or any of us, for that matter.
I ignored Brynmor’s comment entirely, my irritation with the man growing rather sizable. I nodded to Madox. “Good thinking. Noon, then. That should give us plenty of time.” I dipped my head to my family and turned, leaving my family sitting in silence.
I spent the afternoon in my room, trying to read though my thoughts drifted constantly. Brynmor and Madox were out there again, searching for my sister, though somehow I knew they wouldn’t find her. When I saw them come through the gates as darkness fell, I felt the knot in my stomach form. We will have to pay the ransom after all.
My growing restlessness carried me downstairs and outside for a badly needed breath of fresh evening air. I stood in the road and looked around, my intention being to head straight to the tavern for a bite to eat, but as I walked the short span down the road, a familiar figure caught my eye.
It was Ben, his tall, elegant stride carrying him down the road, and in my curiosity, made the decision to follow him. He turned a corner to which I only peered around, watching the man head towards a building in the furthest corner that blazed with light and laughter within. A woman stepped through the door to meet him wearing a beaming smile and little else, her loosely tied bodice and short skirt leaving very little to the imagination. A brothel?!
I blinked in shock before my cheeks colored the deepest shades of heated crimson, unable to look away as his hand came to rest on her side as he guided her back inside. I had just intruded on the man’s private affairs without meaning to, though my shame quickly turned to repugnance as his preferences for companionship finally dawned on me. I had no idea he was so...immoral. I snorted with disdain and dismissed the man entirely as I headed back to the Inn. More than ever, I wanted it to be tomorrow so we could rescue Rhian and find a way to leave this dreadful place and its dreadful people.
CHAPTER 9
I tried to sleep but I was restless and unable to keep all the “what-ifs” from creeping into my mind. What if we failed? What if we hand over the money and they kill her anyways? What if she was already dead, buried in some shallow, unmarked grave? What if they kill us all and leave us to rot? Feeling sick to my stomach, I finally sat up on my cot, staring at the other empty cot that had been meant for Rhian. How often had she craved some excitement? Now she had it, and it might kill her.
I could only stare at that empty bed for so long before restlessness drove me to dress and step outside for some much needed fresh air. The outpost was filled with trade caravans that morning, their overly full wagons taking up most of the roads and leaving little room for people to walk. I didn’t know where to go, so I went into the tavern next door in the hopes of finding breakfast and some coffee.
I wasn’t the least bit hungry, but I ended up with a mug of coffee and a bowl of stew that I did little more than pick at. The main room was mostly empty at this early hour, a young couple at the counter and a very tall man seated at another table off to the side.
The tall man watched me pick at my food for a few minutes, finally rising to come join me. He smiled warmly as he commented wryly. “I never thought the stew was that bad here.” He joked, bringing a faint smile to my lips as he added. “May I join you?”
I hesitated for a moment before nodding, motioned for him to sit, trying to match his good-natured smile. “It’s not that it tastes terrible, I’m just not that hungry.” I admitted. “It’s been a long few days, so I apologize for not being a very good conversationalist.” I didn’t feel like socializing, but it would be a distraction for a little while and that was something I was sorely in need of. I studied him intently as he set his lengthy frame down on the bench across from me.
He was very tall with kind grey eyes that were filled with humor. His clothing was worn and dusty, bearing the appearance of one who spent most of his time traveling, and I assumed that like most others in Soruk, he was a nomad or adventurer. That assumption didn’t last long when I began to sense the faint world-weariness about him that resonated with my own tiredness, a longing for home and hearth that didn’t lend itself to a wanderer’s lifestyle. He smiled as he introduced himself. “I am Owain, and you look like you could use some cheering up.” He gave me an easy smile, setting his elbows comfortably on the table.
I managed another awkward smile, deciding I must look dreadful if a stranger felt the need to comment on it and come over to help. “Yes, I suppose I could.” I admitted softly, looking down at my stew. Thoughts of my sister had permeated every moment of my day and now I wasn’t sure I could make small talk after all. “I am Carys, and I don’t mean to be rude, but we just have some family issues that have captured all my attention, and I fear I’m not really up for small talk.”
He nodded slowly with a sympathetic look filling his eyes, his gaze remaining on mine. “I understand that feeling, Carys.” He said gently. “I have had my own share of….family issues over the years. I have a very big family, so there are plenty.” He smiled at me, setting his mug of tea down with a light scrape against the table. “It is rumored that your family was attacked by hill men two days ago. It is also said that none were injured beyond the minor scratch. You were very fortunate, it seems.” His concern showed even as he smiled lightly.
I could already feel the tension in my shoulders easing with this man’s presence, the kindness in his eyes already unraveling my good sense, and I found myself saying. “Yes, though I don’t believe they intended to hit us. It was a distraction designed t-...” I realized in that moment that mentioning Rhian’s kidnapping to yet another stranger may put her in even more danger, and then the idea of explaining it all sapped me of all strength and I finished with an omission. “...to steal our coin.” I answered vaguely. It was sort of true..or at least, it would be true in a few hours.
Owain’s brow furrowed with my hesitation, though he nodded after I finished. I wondered if he already knew the full truth and was surprised by my lie, but whatever the case, he seemed to accept my answer. “I see. That is regrettable.”
I shook my head then, managing a smile up to him, as weak as it might be. “Our guards spent yesterday afternoon and all through the night tracking our attackers, but to no avail. Perhaps that is a sign that we are not meant to find them. Anyways, I won’t bore you with our problems.” I said dismissively.
His lips pressed together thoughtfully as he didn’t seem to catch my attempt to change the subject and he murmured. “I have many friends out in the wilds. If you like, I can enlist their help in the search for these men who attacked you. My people have excellent eyesight and hearing and may be able to succeed where your people have failed.” His eyes still held mine, and I would have sighed and refused, except in that moment, it clicked.
“You are Velynesian.” I whispered, hardly able to mask the awe in my voice. These people had all but died out, and yet here one was sitting at my table, offering to help. I stared in disbelief and finally nodded to him, my trust in this man and his people inherent, based solely on what I had read in the story books. Stories, I would one day learn, are not necessarily truth.
As much as I wanted to accept his offer, I couldn’t risk involving him and his people in my sister’s situation. It wasn’t that I didn’t think they could help, but I feared their presence would risk her well-being, and that wa
s not something I was willing to do. “I don’t think there is a need, but I appreciate the offer. I’m sure they are long gone, and frankly, I am just relieved that we were not harmed. We plan to simply resupply here and then move on. I admit, I...don’t care for Soruk.”
Owain barked an amused laugh and shook his head. “No, I doubt there are many who do. It is mostly gypsies, nomads...wanderers and outcasts who come through. The land is harsh and unforgiving, but it is ruled by nobody in particular and that is why they come.” He rose from the table as he prepared to leave, offering another warm smile.
I nodded to him, glancing up to the door just as Madox came in, running a hand through his shaggy curls as he looked around. An instant frown formed when he saw Owain looming over me, offering only a suspicious look before he strode towards us.
Madox approached the table and cleared his throat. “Lady Carys...it’s time to go.” He eyed Owain warily before dipping his head politely, adding as an afterthought. “I apologize for interrupting.”
I looked up to Madox and made introductions “Madox, this is Owain. Owain, my guard, Madox. Owain was just asking about the hill men that attacked us. I informed him we were all well, just a little poorer.” Madox gave me a bewildered glance before giving Owain a brief dip of his head in greeting.
Owain offered an amiable smile to Madox before reassuringly dipping his head to me. “May the remainder of your day be more pleasant, Lady Carys.” He offered us a last warm smile before heading to the door. Madox stepped next to me, extending a hand to help me to my feet. He frowned, giving me a hard look.
“What did you tell him?” He grunted as I took his offered hand, letting him pull me up. “We don’t need random people getting involved, it will just complicate things all the more.” He looked around the room, his annoyance painfully clear.
My brows shot up, unaccustomed to Madox showing so much anger. “I didn‘t say anything, but there are already rumors about the attack and that was why he approached me. But he is Velynesian, and offered to help, and it’s difficult to refuse their kind. I did, by the way...I thought it unwise to get him and his people involved.”
Madox’s brows lifted at the word Velynesian, looking impressed for a split second before he nodded, mollified. He knew the same stories I did, and the offer of a helpful Velynesian wasn’t one you rejected. At least, not with ease. “Come on, we need to get to the banker.” He mumbled, offering his arm to me.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Stop pacing, Carys, you are going to wear a hole right into the ground.” Brynmor groaned as he sat on a tree stump next to the stables. He frowned at me and huffed when I didn’t cease. “I mean it...sit down. It's hard to think with you traipsing all over the place.”
I couldn’t stop pacing and I most certainly could not sit down, my anxiety building more and more as the day went on. Madox and I had collected nearly every piece of gold we had to our name, splitting it into several saddle bags and satchels as to not draw unwanted attention. I tried to think through all the ways this could go horribly wrong (there were far too many) and come up with contingency plans, though my knowledge of tactics was sadly lacking. Brynmor’s words finally sunk in and I stopped pacing to shoot a dirty look over to my guard, resuming my walking a moment later. Brynmor rolled his eyes and sighed, giving up as he dragged a hand down over his face.
I could feel the grip of panic in my chest as time ticked by and watched the sun slowly descending in the sky. Madox looked as anxious as I felt, though he could barely move while I couldn’t stop.
The three of us remained like this for an eternity, Iolyn finally approaching as the stable-hand brought our horses out one by one. My brother looked ill, as pale as the northmen who rarely saw the sun, though I attributed that to the tremendous hangover I assumed he had. “Where is Father?” I demanded with a swiftly furrowing brow.
“Right here.” Father’s deep voice growled as he came out of the stables, leading two of our horses as the stable-hand followed with the last.
“Come on.” Madox broke in, taking the reins of two of the horses, leading them to their riders. “The horses are ready and it’s time to go.” He gave me a direct look and frowned as I moved to join them. “Are you sure you are up for this?” He asked quietly, warm brown eyes filled with worry.
“Yes, I am.” I murmured in return. “It is up to me to get Rhian back and they will not accept a substitute.” I tilted my chin up, certain that my going alone was the right decision. No other could go in my place when it is me they demand.
I adjusted my coat before I climbed up into my saddle, wincing slightly as the injury in my arm sent a reminder of its presence as I tried to get comfortable. It had been some time since I actually rode on a horse, the journey thus far keeping me in the wagon. Madox and Brynmor grabbed the saddlebags laden with coin as slowly, the ever present panic seemed to climb as we headed straight into danger. She will be alright, we will get her back today.
The ride to the Bone Farm took an hour, though it felt much more like an Age. I passed the time thinking over how this would likely go. The kidnapper would likely make threats and demands, but I tried to keep Ben’s words in mind. They are more interested in coin than harming her. My stomach flip-flopped as thoughts of Ben came to my mind, the image of him going into the brothel and his hand so intimately guiding the whore inside was firmly seared into my mind and I nearly dismissed all of the advice given to me.
At last, we came to the fork in the road, following the path as Ben had instructed, though it didn’t take long to see that the path to the Bone Farm didn’t take us far from the main road. Where our path descended into a valley, the main road climbed the hills above to overlook the ruins before it eventually turned into the hills and the northern regions.
I could see the crumbling ruin ahead through the trees as Father drew up, turning his horse to give me a deeply concerned look. “This is where we must part ways. Everyone but Carys, dismount. Guards, fan out and find your positions.” Madox, Brynmor, Iolyn, and Pedr all did as they were ordered, tying their horses to the trees before disappearing into the thick trees in search of a vantage point.
Father nudged his horse forward and reached out to take my hand. “You have good instincts, Carys. If at any moment, you feel like something isn’t right, you run. We will all be close by and will keep you safe.”
I swallowed hard and nodded, my hand trembling in his only to receive a squeeze. “You are not alone, Carys. Not even for a moment.” He murmured, lifting my hand to kiss my knuckles. “Your courage makes me proud.” With that, he released my hand and dismounted, tying his own horse with the others and vanishing into the woods to leave me alone in the road.
“Here we go, then.” I murmured to myself, nudging Ffion forward, only the gentle clinking of the 400 gold as a companion.
The Bone Farm was just that...an old plantation Manor that had been burned to the ground in the Decimation, only parts of the manor’s stone walls still intact. Long, white bones mixed with white branches littered the fields that surrounded the crumbled Manor, shattered tree stumps poking up from the ground to give the Plantation’s eerie nickname a fitting truth. There was no doubt that this place had seen more than its fair share of death, and my head thudded a little harder as I hoped I wouldn’t be counted among them.
It was deathly silent, only the sound of the northern wind whistling through the gaps in the stonework like the haunted utterings of the dead echoed in the ruins, bringing with it the chilly northern air with a foreboding scent of decay.
The crunching of Ffion’s hooves disrupted the quiet as I halted in the barren courtyard, my head swiveling warily in search of any signs of Rhian, her abductors, or the large group of hill men that I was certain were going to ambush me. But Ben had spoken the truth when he said it was wide open, and any attempted ambush would have come as no surprise as there was quite literally nothing to hide such attackers from my sight.
Two tall men clad in crimson robes stepped into sight on t
he last remnants of the front veranda once we halted, my sister pulled into view along with them.
My breath hitched in dread as I stared, the crimson of their robes vibrant and frightening against the many shades of grey that colored the Bone Farm. They were masked and hooded, red robes studded with dark metal clasps and draping perfectly over their ominous black leather armor. Dark iron cauldrons covered their shoulders. and the only part of them that could be seen was their eyes, cold as ice and dark with hate. They stood rigidly, making no move for the weapons at their hips nor stepping forward to meet me where I had stopped, remaining eerily silent and still in their chosen place. These are not the hill men that attacked us...
Rhian cowered between them looking small, disheveled, and terrified. Her once pristine gown was sullied and stained with both dirt and her own filth, and even at this distance, I could see where dark bruises swelled over the side of her face and dried blood matted her disarrayed hair. I grimaced, but as I looked over her trembling form, I didn’t see any other evidence of injury. Thank the gods, I sighed in relief.
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