Within an hour they had a large pile of supplies stacked at the loading dock. They were also hot, sweaty and filthy. As Erinn lay back against a sack she wished she’d had the sense to bring some water with her.
“Still, we did it, didn’t we?” she said to Kel, smiling brightly, this time without forcing it.
The girl gave a small smile back. It was a weak, watery thing, but it was a start.
Erinn reached into a barrel and pulled out a couple of apples, handing one to the girl as she took a large bite. They were still crisp and, at that moment, one of the most delicious things she had ever tasted. She munched happily, closing her eyes and enjoying the sun on her face.
“An’ just where do you think you’re taking that lot?” The voice was harsh and accusing and Erinn’s eyes flew open as the apple fell from her fingers into the dirt.
The speaker was a dark haired man with an angry cut running from eyebrow to cheek around his eye. He stood slightly ahead of two smaller men and held an improvised cudgel in one hand.
“I…err…” Erinn sputtered.
“You what?”
She took a breath and tried again. “We’re going to head west, get away here. You’d be welcome to join us.”
He gave her a scathing look. “Are you soft in the head? The land out there is crawling with those Bjornmen, an' who knows when those monsters might come back. No we’re stayin’ right here. An’ so is that lot.”
Erinn climbed to her feet. “You can’t be serious. I mean, stay if you like but there’s enough in there for everyone!”
“Everyone that matters is stood over here by me, Darlin’,” the man said with an ugly smile.
“Look…” she looked at him expectantly.
“Stett,” he supplied.
“Look, Stett,” she tried again. “There’s food in there that will spoil before it ever gets eaten. Can’t we be reasonable about this?”
“What’s in there belongs to this fort. As there’s only us left I say it belongs to us.” He stopped, looking at her again as something obviously occurred to him. “For that matter, what makes you think you can just leave? It’s going to get cold pretty soon. A nice bit like you shouldn’t be out on the roads by herself.”
A clatter brought him up short and they all turned to see the cart coming down the street, drawn by a brown horse than had definitely seen better days. “Found some more friends then,” Samen said, eyeing the men and he eased the cart to a halt.
“They say they’re not going to let us leave,” Erinn explained.
“Is that so?” Samen replied, turning to look at the dark-haired man. “It’s going to smell pretty ripe here in a week or so.”
“I didn’t say anything about you, old man,” Stett said with sneer. “You can clear out now.”
“Very kind of you,” Samen muttered and reached for the reins he’d let fall to his lap.
“Samen!” Erinn blurted, unable to stop herself.
“He glanced at her and reached down. “Then again, maybe I think they’re better off with me?” he said, settling the crossbow into his shoulder. “Now I’m no expert with these things so I might hit any one of you, or I might just make a nice hole in the wall over there. Thing is, I know enough this thing to know that you’re on the wrong end of it.”
“You can’t get us all, old man,” Stett said, hefting his cudgel.
“No.” Samen nodded agreeably. “No, you’re right but I can get one of you. Have you ever seen what happens to someone who gets shot with one of these things close up? This bolt here will go right through you. Your boys over there are thinking really hard about that right now.”
Stett glanced over one shoulder at the worried expressions of the two men with him, and then turned to face them. “We can take him, you idiots. Look at his hands shaking.”
It was true, Samen’s hands shook gently and the point of the crossbow bolt wove back and forth between the three of them.
“Yer right, Stett,” one of them said, kicking at the dirt. “It’s just, I don’t fancy getting myself shot through. A few knocks with a stick is one thing but…” he shrugged.
Stett glared at him, and then looked from him to the other and back again. “You yellow bloody bastards,” he spat and then turned to run down the street.
“Not going with your friend?” Samen asked, lowering the crossbow a little.
“Nah, I reckon you’re right.” The man shrugged. “This place is going to be crawling with rats an' flies before long. I’ll…” he glanced at his companion. “We’ll tag along with you, if you’ll have us?”
“Don’t look to me, boy.” Samen snorted. “It’s the smith’s girl here who’s in charge. I’m just along for the wine.”
Erinn gaped at him for a moment before remembering herself. She looked the men over. Could they be trusted? Probably not, she decided. But then, if she left them here they might just follow along behind her anyway.
“What are your names?” she asked.
“I’m Fornn, that’s Jarik.” He jerked a thumb at his companion.
Erinn sighed. “Fine, come with us but Samen will put that bolt through you if you try anything else.”
His dirty face split into a relieved smile. “That’s kind, lady. More’n we deserve I reckon. You’ve a good heart.”
Erinn felt the beginnings of a blush at that and nodded at the cart. “Yes well, you can start by helping to load this lot.”
“Right away, lady.” Fornn hefted a sack of grain onto one shoulder and loaded it with an ease that made her mutter to herself.
They ended up with three carts. Samen insisted on putting Fornn and Jarik on their own, though neither were comfortable with horses, and taking another one for himself. “Might as well keep all the trouble in one place,” he’d muttered.
It took longer than she’d expected and it was already past midday by the time they had the carts loaded. Jarik made his way over to her as Samen checked over the horses.
“I wanted to thank you,” he said. He was a short man and he shifted from foot to foot as he spoke. “Most would have sent us after Stett or just left us behind.”
“Yes, well, I suppose I’m not most people,” she replied and looked away, fussing with the end of one of the ropes holding the load in place. She wished they’d just let it drop. This was embarrassing and Samen’s sly grin wasn’t helping.
“No, I reckon you’re not.” He nodded. “You’ve something of your Da in you.”
She looked back at him then. “You know my father?”
“No.” Jarik shook his head. “I knew him by sight. I saw him though, at the end. He took down twenty or more of those bastards with a hammer trying get through to two of Sarenson’s men. Most men would have left them, turned an' run. Not your da. He got himself right in there, monsters or no. When they took him down, that was the end of it, I reckon. That’s when we started to break.”
She felt her face crumble as the tears started. Dimly she was aware of Samen swearing at the man and bundling him away before putting a clumsy arm around her. It was nothing she hadn’t known already but she’d worked so hard to avoid confirming it, letting that little spark of hope remain. Now Jarik had dashed that away and the cold reality was all that remained.
Chapter Ten
The cart creaked and rattled, every bump seemed to be working hard to rattle Erinn’s teeth from her skull. The roads had been wet from the rains and they’d huddled under cloaks and tarpaulins through the first few days. After that they’d dried out faster than she’d have thought possible and the dust seemed to hang in the air, coating her lips and flying into her mouth with any opportunity.
She arched her back and reached behind her to knuckle the aching muscles. Lords and Ladies but she was tired. Who would ever have thought simply sitting on a cart could be so tiring? The nights were no better. They clustered tight together around a fire they were too cold to be without and too frightened of to take any comfort from. The darkness was almost total out here. The clouds st
ole the light of the moon and stars and kept them for their own. Every noise had one of them jumping or reaching for a bow. After three days of this she almost wished she’d never crawled under the bunkhouse.
Kel snored loudly behind her, curled up in amongst the sacks of supplies and Erinn found herself giving the girl envious glances, not that she could have slept with the rattling anyway.
She pulled back gently on the reins as the first of the buildings came into sight. It wasn’t much of a village. It would probably be exaggerating to call it a hamlet. A farmstead with a handful of other cottages keeping it company beside the road was all it really was. Still, it would give her someone else to talk to. Kel slept a lot of the time, and when she wasn’t sleeping she barely spoke. It was the girl’s way of coping, Erinn supposed.
Samen was just as quiet. His mood had soured further by the day and he barely spoke to anyone unless it was absolutely necessary, riding alone on a cart just behind her own. Jarik and Fornn were both friendly enough but kept to themselves unless she made the effort to approach them. There are some things that will always taint a relationship. Threats of rape or murder sit fairly high on the list.
She eased the cart around the turn in the road and pulled the horse to a halt as she looked at the farmstead. It was a tidy place, with a small, but orderly, vegetable plot and what appeared be a herb garden growing close to the house.
The stillness hit her and she sank down with a heavy sigh. A place like this should never be still, not at this time of the day. She listened carefully for any sign she might be wrong as her eyes swept over the covered walkway surrounding the farmstead but all she could hear was the hushed conversation of Jarik and his friend on the rear-most cart.
With a look behind her at Samen she eased herself down from the wagon and made her way towards the farmstead. “Hello?” she called. The silence took the sound and swallowed it down, savouring the taste.
Slow steps took her to the wooden steps leading up to the deck. She was about to call out again when she saw the door hanging from a single hinge. A stain on the wood of the deck was fading to a greyish colour but enough of the red-rust remained to leave little doubt what it was. It trailed towards the door and the hand-print removed any doubts that remained.
“What is it?” Samen called out.
She stood from where she’d crouched to look. “Blood.” Her face must have said more than her voice because he climbed down quickly and made to join her.
“Go on back to the cart, I’ll have a look,” he told her, his sour face softening just a fraction. She nodded and gave him a weak smile of thanks.
Kel hadn’t roused herself. A small blessing, Erinn told herself. If what she suspected was true then the last thing the girl needed was to hear about this. The door swung closed with a bang and Samen stumped down the three steps to the dirt. His face said all there needed to be said.
“Bjornmen?” she asked, though she knew the answer before he spoke.
“I don’t think so.” He shook his head and glanced back at the deck. “They’d have looted or burnt this place. They wouldn’t have done…” he paused and spat into the dirt. “Done that.”
A brief inspection of the other cottages revealed nothing that Erinn wanted to see and she waited on the cart while Jarik and Fornn checked the last of the cottages. Kel had stirred herself and watched the search with a dull curiosity.
“Nothing,” Jarik reported. “Nothing moving anyway.” He snorted a laugh but his smile faded as the joke fell flat.
“There’s a well around the back of the farm. We may as well fill the skins and water the horses while we’re here,” Samen suggested, ignoring Jarik.
Erinn nodded, not really listening. She wandered away, heading for the other end of the small hamlet. The breeze stroked the heads of the wild-flowers growing in the long grass to the south of the road. This must have been a pleasant place to live. The ground looked to be good and fertile if the grasses and wild-flowers were anything to judge by. A hill, dotted with sheep, rose up beyond the fields behind the farm and the sun caught and glinted on a small stream than ran down and passed into the woods.
She was suddenly struck by a wave of homesickness as she looked around at the tiny hamlet. Widdengate wasn’t just a place she missed, it was a home that had been taken from her. It was somewhere she would never be able to return to no matter what happened with the Bjornmen or the fae. Even if some returned to rebuild the village could never be the same place she'd been forced from.
A scuffing made her turn towards the closest cottage. It was the last one on the row and set slightly apart from the others. She looked over the building trying to see the source of the noise. Thinking back, it had been more of a grating than a scuff. There had been a definite grinding quality to it.
The cottage was a low affair with a dark, thatched roof. Small windows stared blankly out at the daylight, hinting at the dark interior. Erinn circled the cottage. The door was torn free and had been propped up against the wall by Jarik or Fornn, whichever one it was that had searched this home. An outbuilding, little more than a cupboard built up against the side of the house, stood on one corner. Erinn pulled gently on the door, wondering if the wind had blown it. It caught after an inch or two, grinding on small stones in the dirt.
That was it. Excited, she pushed the door shut again and yanked, forcing it over the pebbles that had caught it the first time. Cobwebs hung from the roof, straining as they reached down for hoes and garden forks.
Confused, she took a turn around the cottage again. She hadn’t imagined it, there had definitely been a noise. “Hello?” she called, low enough for her voice not to carry past the cottage.
She turned again and she saw it. A window, peering out of a bush that had grown up against the wall. Once it had probably provided light to a cellar room but the bush had spread and almost covered it now. She’d passed it three times without even seeing it.
The scrape in the dirt and slight scratching on the flat stones were visible before she even really got close. Erinn knelt down to peer through the dusty pane and a flash of movement fled backwards into the gloom. A pale face seeking to hide in the darkness.
Erinn screamed and fell back into the dirt. Samen, despite his age, was the first to reach her. She stood dusting her dress off, caught halfway between cursing and laughing at herself.
Samen stopped with the question on his lips and looked around. “What are you squawking for, girl?” He scowled.
She pointed to the half-concealed window. “There’s someone in there.”
“Looks like root cellar or something,” Fornn suggested, overhearing. “There’ll be a trap in the cottage someplace.”
Samen scowled at him, seemingly for no reason other than his suggestion.
The trap door was easy to find, laying under a rug at one end of the cottage. “Just lift it a crack,” Erinn instructed Fornn as he held onto the iron ring. He nodded as she knelt down close to the edge.
“Hello,” she called down as Fornn pulled up the trap. “It’s okay, we’re not going to hurt you. It’s safe now.”
Urgent whispers argued at the limits of her hearing before a voice hissed. “No, don’t!”
Another voice. It sounded younger. “Who are you? What do you want?”
“We’re from Carik’s Fort,” Erinn called through the crack. “It was attacked too. We…” She sat up. “I’ve had enough of this,” she announced and reached out to pull the trap the rest of the way open. A boy, not more than twelve, blinked in the sudden light as he looked up at her.
“Come on up,” Erinn told him. “This is silly and we can talk much more easily up here.”
He turned to look behind him. “She’s right, Marjoie. Let’s just go up.”
Erinn couldn’t hear the response but the tone was clear enough and she glanced at Samen with a wry smile.
“What?” he snapped.
“Oh, nothing.”
The boy was followed by a younger girl. They clambered
up the wooden steps and hovered close to the cellar entrance as an old woman stood at the bottom of the steps.
She scowled up into the light as she tried to grip both railing and stick at the same time. “Have all you men lost your manners then? Or did your mothers never teach you to offer a hand?”
Fornn moved first, reaching down to offer his help. The woman grabbed at him and clung to his arm awkwardly, fingers gripping tight as she made her way up the steps. From the look on Fornn’s face either she was heavier than she looked or her fingers were digging into his flesh.
“Move back out of the way,” she snapped, waving her arms to shoo them faster. “Well then,” she said, planting the stick in front of her and folding her hands over the end. “Now that you’ve pulled us from safety, what do you want with us?”
Erinn blinked. “With you? We don’t want anything with you. We’re trying to help.”
“The Lord helps those as helps themselves,” the old woman told her, jabbing a finger towards her with each word.
Samen gave a snort that hadn’t quite decided whether to be a laugh or a sound of derision. “The lord? What lord is that then?”
“The Lord of New Days, old man,” she told him.
Samen scowled, though whether it was from her tone or being spoken to like a child Erinn couldn’t tell. “I doubt your lord did you much good when the fae came screaming through,” he muttered.
“Fae?” She curled her lip at the notion. “We’re all here too old for that nonsense. It was a scourge that passed through this town. A scourge sent by the Lord to punish those who would not heed his message!”
Lords and Ladies,” Samen muttered. “Put her back in the hole, Erinn.” He ignored the look he received and turned away in disgust.
“Fae or scourge it doesn’t matter, they’re gone for now,” Erinn said, trying to salvage the situation.
“They will return.” The woman stated it as a matter of fact. She seemed oddly satisfied in her certainty.
“Perhaps.” Erinn nodded, then sighed. This was not the way she’d thought this would go. “Look, let’s start again. My name is Erinn. This is Fornn and Jerrik, the girl is Kel, and my old friend over there is Samen.”
The Riven Wyrde Saga boxed set Page 92