by Jane Shoup
“Oh,” Catherin said, clearly disappointed. “I don’t have a mother,” she volunteered.
“She died,” Liani added.
“My mother died when I was young, too,” Ammey replied with a tender smile.
“I saw a fish jump,” Liani cried. “Straight out! This high.”
“Let’s go find it and play,” Ammey said. She quickly undressed and waded into the lake. The girls watched and whispered and giggled and Ammey was reminded of herself and Theresa and Julia when were young. Before long, Liani and Catherin had unclothed and gotten into the water, too. They were strong swimmers.
“I can disappear under the water,” Liani said. “And not come up for a long time.”
“Me, too,” Catherin joined in. “We could go under and not come up until dark.”
Ammey donned a worried frown. “I hope not. I would be in such trouble with everyone and I only just arrived.”
“We can,” Liani sang.
“How?” Ammey asked.
“We’ll show you,” Catherin said.
“Uhh. Mama says we’re not to scare people anymore,” Liani rejoined. “Remember last time?”
“There’s holes in the rocks,” Catherin said to Ammey.
Liani pouted and splashed her friend. “I was going to tell her!” She turned to Ammey. “There are holes in the rocks under the water and they lead to the caves.”
“But think of how it would frighten someone if you simply disappeared. I would have been very frightened and upset.”
“We know,” Liani said. “We don’t do it anymore. Want us to show you?”
“As long as it’s safe.”
“We do it all the time,” Liani chirped. “You can’t see the caves from here, but they’re over there.”
“You can hold your breath, can’t you?” Catherin asked.
Ammey grabbed a big breath and puffed her cheeks out with it, making the girls laugh. The three started swimming.
“We can go under and swim from here,” Liani called mid-way. “But it’s easier from over there.”
“Then let’s go there.”
The girls swam on and Ammey followed. She turned and floated on her back a moment, enjoying the perfect, blue sky. It was so good not to be sitting and riding.
“Here,” Liani called. “Ready? Take a big breath,” she said before doing the same and ducking under the surface.
Catherin followed suit and then Ammey. They swam straight down along the rock wall until they reached a good-sized hole. The water was colder as they passed through the opening and worked their way up toward the light, ending in a shallow cavern. Although there was only a few feet of space above their heads, the roof of the cave was riddled with small openings that allowed light through.
“There’s an opening over there so you can get out,” Catherin explained. Her voice was eerily amplified.
“It’s fascinating,” Ammey said as she peered at the strangely shaped rock formations hanging from the cave ceiling. “Like another world.”
“A cave world,” Liani said loudly enough that it echoed.
“A cave world,” Ammey and Catherin said to hear it echo. Then they all laughed and it echoed.
~~~
The feast that evening was shared in a large, open-sided shelter. It was simple fare, but it tasted good and the mood was celebratory. Ammey detected a mild strain between Graybil and Ianthe and kept her attention focused elsewhere. In truth, she felt for Ianthe. She knew the constant ache of missing loved ones. To know your husband was off somewhere, frequently in harm’s way, when he actually could be with you, would be maddening. Ianthe didn’t seem to care for her and that made things less than comfortable, but Ammey didn’t know how to change it. Besides, there would be little time to dwell on it since crops would soon be planted and everyone helped, even children.
The guest lodge was spacious, but impersonal. There were a half dozen cots to choose from. Besides beds, there was a table, chairs and a washstand with a basin. All that adorned the walls were pegs for hanging clothing. The shelter was meant for brief stays. She’d been told that her meals would be brought to the lodge, that the women of the village would take turns preparing each meal. She had little doubt that each meal would serve as a reminder that she was an extra burden. She planned on working hard while she was there and earning her keep.
Her first night in Daleog was long. She hadn’t fully realized it before, but it had been a blessing to have been kept as occupied and surrounded with others as she’d been. Alone, there was nothing else to do but think and dwell. She took to the planting the next day with enthusiasm. The physical labor made the days pass faster and sleep come easier. It made her more welcome and liked by the villagers. Liani and Catherin were her constant companions in the fields and she was glad of that, too. When it was time for the mid-day break, they played with her hair or rested beside her, sometimes singing, sometimes making up stories. Their voices and laughter and view of the world were a delight. Had it not been for them, Ammey feared she might have drowned in her worry and loneliness.
Chapter Thirteen
Joshua walked into the inn and cleared his throat.
Ulima turned with a gasp and extended her arms. “Oh! I’ve been so worried!”
“It’s better time than I thought you’d make,” Xavier said as he started around the bar. “Where’s Marcus and Liam?”
“The-they stayed,” Joshua stammered.
Ulima blinked in surprise. “Stayed?”
“At the Forge. There’s so much going on there.”
“And they were invited to stay?” Xavier asked.
Joshua nodded stiffly. “We all were, but someone needed to come back.” He shrugged. “I drew the short straw.”
Ulima and Xavier exchanged a look and then Xavier shrugged and broke into a cock-eyed smile. “You know Marcus. He must feel—”
“Yes. On top of the world,” Ulima finished, although she didn’t seem pleased.
Joshua felt relieved and emboldened. He’d expected them to be upset and to perhaps challenge his story. He’d quickly figured out he could not admit the shameful truth, that he’d lagged so far behind that his closest friends had been murdered while he’d escaped without so much as a scratch. Nor that he’d left their bodies and the letters behind. What kind of a coward would he be branded? And for life!
Instead, he’d made camp for ten days, judging that to be the right timing. The fact of the matter was, things were in a state of upheaval and discord. War was coming. Everyone thought so. The story he’d come up with was the best and easiest solution for saving face. Later, he’d fabricate a letter explaining Marcus’s and Liam’s valiant death in battle and sign it from the McKeaf or, better yet, one of the general’s sons who would further explain how he’d come to be friends with Marcus.
“Come have something to drink, Joshua,” Xavier said. “Have you seen your father yet?”
“No, sir, I came straight here.”
“I’ll get you something to eat,” Ulima said. “And then we want to hear everything.”
Joshua nodded. He could do it. He’d practiced it a hundred times on the way back home.
~~~
Ammey bit on her bottom lip as she looked at a three-quarter moon. It was time. She reluctantly went to find Graybil who was still in the fields along with several others.
As she got closer, he noticed her. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
Ianthe straightened a short distance away, one hand pressed against the small of her back. What she had to say would certainly not make her more liked by the woman.
“What is it, Ammey?” Graybil repeated.
Ammey sighed. “Before we left Draven, I was told that you needed to return by the next full moon.”
Graybil frowned. “Who told you this?”
She felt terrible. He was content here, Ianthe was happy and Liani needed her father. “Ulima. Forzenay told her.” She noticed Ianthe start toward them with dark suspicion on her face. “She was
told that one of their lives depends upon your return.”
“You should have told me,” he said crossly.
“I was supposed to let you rest and mend.”
Ianthe reached them. “What is it?” she demanded.
“I have to return to Draven,” Graybil said calmly. All traces of frustration were suddenly gone from his face and voice.
Ianthe turned on Ammey. “What did you say to him?” she demanded accusingly.
“She passed on a message as she’d promised to do,” Graybil replied coolly. “Nothing more.”
Ianthe gave him a hard look before turning and walking away. She was irate and not bothering to hide it.
“Are you returning, as well?” Graybil asked.
Her breath caught. What if she said yes? She could pretend that she hadn’t understood the mandate to stay. “No,” she admitted.
He looked toward his wife walking away. “It’s time I stayed home. I have to tell them.”
“But you will go?” she asked in a small voice.
He was instantly annoyed again. “Of course, I’ll go!”
Ammey turned and walked off, burdened by having displeased everyone.
~~~
Before bed, Ammey sat cross-legged on one of the cots in the guest lodge, sullenly working the tangles from her hair. There was a knock at the door, but before she could get up, it cracked open and Ianthe stood there. “May I come in?”
“Of course.” Ammey set the comb aside and got to her feet, dreading the confrontation to come. “Will you sit?”
“I’m not staying.” Ianthe pushed her hood back. “I came to apologize. I was rude earlier.”
For a moment, Ammey was too taken aback to respond. “There’s no need,” she managed. “I understand how you feel.”
“Do you?” Ianthe asked stiffly.
“Yes. There are those I miss so badly. My family and friends, my home. I sometimes think I’d do anything to go back to before.”
Ianthe’s expression thawed. “I was told what happened to your friends. I’m sorry for it.” She took a few steps in. “Perhaps I will sit.”
Ammey led the way and sat across from her at the table. “I keep expecting to see my father or my brothers show up to collect me,” she confessed. “But I don’t know what has happened or what is happening. That’s what’s most difficult. Not knowing.”
“I know. I couldn’t begin to count the nights I’ve lain awake aching with worry and loneliness.” Ianthe looked down at ther hands as if embarrassed that she’d shared too much, but when she looked back up, there was defiance on her face. “Flynn has promised to come back for good.”
“Good. He belongs here.”
Ianthe studied her a moment. “Do you mean that?”
“I do.”
“Thank you. For saying so. I know you’ve been a part of their circle. Perhaps, one day, you’ll tell me what the others are like. I’ve heard from Flynn, of course, but I’d like to hear your impression.”
“I will.”
“I can’t help the resentment I feel,” Ianthe blurted, reddening in the face. “I wish I could, but I don’t understand the choices he’s made. They seem selfish. But perhaps if I knew more. If I could understand why—”
Ammey drew breath to speak, but couldn’t find the right words.
“The dreaded assassins of Azulland,” Ianthe said wryly. “So feared …and yet they’re real men. Good men. People have no idea. That they love. That they are loved.”
Ammey nodded. “They care deeply for one another. They’re very protective.”
“I know. Closer than most brothers.”
“They are brothers. Of choice. That’s why he has to go back. One of their lives depends upon it.”
“But he’s done enough.”
“You’re right. He has. It’s just this one thing more.”
Ianthe started to say something, but stopped herself. “I disliked you on sight because of your beauty and I am sorry for that.”
Ammey felt her face grow warm. “You’ve been nothing but good to me, Ianthe.”
“We both know that’s not true, but it will change.” She paused and then suddenly grinned. “You’re all the girls talk about. They pretend to be you. They argue over which one gets to be you. And my husband has not helped matters, talking about your skill with the sword, the sparring with Vincent.”
Ammey laughed softly. “It was mostly play.”
“Will you go back to them?”
Ammey’s smiled faded. “I don’t know. I was told to bring Flynn back and that I was not to return with him when he went back. That’s all I know.”
Ianthe reached out and took hold of her hand. “You are welcome here. Please know that.”
“Thank you.”
“I should get back.” After an awkward hesitation, Ianthe rose and left, not even glancing back from the door.
~~~
Ammey slept poorly and rose before dawn. She had missed seeing the others off in Draven, she did not want to miss saying farewell to Graybil.
“You should go back to a warm bed,” he said when he saw her. He was hitching the wagon to his horse to return it to Xavier.
“I wanted to say goodbye.”
“I’m coming back,” he said without looking up. “I’ll do what I can in Draven or Shilbridge or wherever they need me, but then I’m coming back.”
“I know.”
He looked at her a moment, trying to judge her reaction.
“Your place is here,” Ammey said.
He finished hitching the cart. “I feel like my place is here and there, but I’m one man.” He stepped back, having completed the task. “Are there any messages you’d like passed on?”
“Can you believe I miss them?” she said in an attempt to be light.
“So do I. And when I’m with them, I miss this.”
She understood the conflict and felt for him.
“Will you watch over my family until I return?” he asked.
She lifted her chin. “It would be my honor.”
“Thank you, Ammey. I’ll see you soon.”
She nodded. “Farewell.”
He walked around, mounted and rode out with a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had to fight the inclination to turn and look one last time at the village, which was silly. It was probably the result of a mostly sleepless night since Ianthe had spent much of it weeping. It wasn’t as if he’d never see his home again. He would do what he could for his friends and then he would return home for good.
The Five would continue on without him. Forzenay would add the right man. Or perhaps woman. Ammey was both willing and able. He never would have imagined a woman could be one of their number, but she’d convinced him otherwise. She’d convinced them all.
Chapter Fourteen
“Wha—” a woman uttered, “what is that?”
“No,” a man cried. “Oh, no!”
“They’re coming,” someone screamed.
Ammey had stretched out on the ground during the mid-day break and dozed, but she woke abruptly at the shouts.
“Run!”
She bolted upright and saw the reason for the wild distress. Riders were coming, at least two dozen of them, wearing the black armor of Bellux-Abry. She’d never seen soldiers of Bellux-Abry before so it was peculiar how quickly she recognized them. She jumped to her feet, frantically looking for Ianthe and the girls. She’d sworn to protect them, but they were nowhere to be seen. “Ianthe! Liani! Catherin!”
She ran for the Graybil lodge as Ianthe emerged. Ammey didn’t have to look back at the approaching riders to know they were getting close. She knew it from the way the ground shook, from the way men cried out and women screamed. Ianthe’s expression was one of breathless terror.
“Where’s Li—” Ammey started to ask, but the girl appeared behind her mother before she’d finished asking the question. “Is there a place for hiding?” she asked breathlessly. “They may burn the village.”
Ia
nthe shook her head, but she seemed too rattled to think clearly.
“Have you a sword?” Ammey demanded.
“Yes!” Ianthe dashed back into the lodge for it.
“Come, Liani,” Ammey insisted, taking her hand and pulling her along.
“Mama!” Liani cried, caught up in the terror.
“Liani, where’s Catherin?”
“I don’t know!”
There was so much screaming, and yet the chaos was a blessing of sorts. Ianthe came running with the bulky sword and Ammey grabbed it from her. “We have to get to the gorge,” she called.
Ianthe gawked at a man on horseback bearing down on them.
Ammey placed both hands on the hilt of the sword and whirled around to face him. “Go!” she ordered Ianthe. “And don’t stop!” The man came off his horse and advanced on her, his blade drawn and dripping with blood. Ammey swallowed convulsively. The soldier tossed off his helmet, apparently amused by her bravado.
“Are you certain you want to do that?” Ammey challenged as she backed up a step.
“Are you worried about me getting hurt by your blade, pretty one?”
“No, but—” She swung around as she lifted the sword and then brought it down upon his head, splitting it open. You should be. She was running again before he’d even fallen.
She saw an unarmed man get knocked backwards with a spiked flail. The villagers had no chance against these monsters. None! Ammey spotted Ianthe ahead, carrying Liani. It had slowed their progress and a rider was closing in on them. The man sent a rope flying and it wrapped around Ianthe’s neck, jerking her backwards and off her feet.
Because they’re taking women captive.
Ammey could hear nothing but screaming. She added her own voice to the din, never slowing as she came at the man. She ran him through, withdrew the sword, and then watched in disbelief as he turned to face her, an incredulous look upon his face. He took one step and she struck again, cutting across his chest.
“Do not carry her,” Ammey ordered Ianthe furiously. “Take her hand, pull her, but do not carry her! You go too slowly!” She cut the rope, but not so closely that Ianthe wasn’t left wearing a garish necklace.