Pathfinder's Way

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Pathfinder's Way Page 8

by T. A. White


  Shea frowned and then rolled her eyes at that last part. He waited patiently as she processed what he just told her. “And you? Are you the same?”

  He sighed. “Before? Yes. I was exactly like the elders. Now, not so much. Edgecomb changed things.”

  He didn’t have to explain. She understood. That place had changed all of them.

  She didn’t know how she felt about Witt coming to her defense as he did. She thought it made her seem weak. That was something she couldn’t afford while on the trail. These men needed to respect her and having someone ride in to the rescue made that difficult.

  It was kind of nice, though. It had been so long since anybody defended her.

  Dane clapped her on the shoulder. “Witt and I have your back. Now these men know it, and they’ll think twice about giving you lip. That’s not a bad thing.”

  The corners of her lips tilted up as she decided to be grateful rather than angry at the assistance. Changing the subject, she ventured, “Can’t say I’m happy about staying another night.”

  He sighed. “I know. Me neither, but it’s almost nightfall. With these laze-abouts, we wouldn’t be ready to leave until well after dark. Just made more sense to stay the night and get a start tomorrow when there’s more hours of daylight.”

  She shrugged. He was the boss while they were in town. Her eyes slid back to the window as twilight deepened outside. It was probably a good call. Still, she would have much rather have been sleeping out under the stars then spending one more night in this town. Even with the comfy bed awaiting her.

  “Get some sleep, yeah?” Dane told her. “Tomorrow’s a big day.”

  She looked back at him and nodded once. With the table cleared, the men gathered around it with a deck of cards.

  Shea excused herself and headed upstairs to her small bedroom. A bed took up half the space, leaving just enough room for a chest to store her gear.

  She crossed the floor, the wood creaking under her weight, to light a lamp. With night falling, it would be her only source of light until the moon was high enough to lend its glow.

  She carried the lamp over to the chest and knelt, setting it beside her. The smell of lavender drifted up as she lifted the top and pawed through her pack until she found a clean shirt to wear to bed.

  Once changed, she pulled out a map and climbed between the sheets, placing the lamp on the end table.

  Since they were definitely leaving tomorrow, she wanted to look it over one last time. It was ritual more than anything else as she had already decided on the return trip’s course early on in their forced stay.

  Studying the twisting lines and sloping curves of a map normally calmed her, giving her a brief taste of the freedom and empowerment she experienced when testing herself against nature. Tonight, she found her thoughts straying to other things.

  It’d been a long time since someone had her back. Since well before she’d been assigned to Birdon Leaf. It was nice to have someone stand up for her. She was reluctant to dwell further on this feeling especially while the worry over what Goodwin of Ria was hiding from them lingered.

  Sleep was a long time coming that night. When she finally drifted off, she did so to the image of whiskey-colored eyes and the rumble of a man’s voice.

  Chapter Five

  Damn horse didn’t want to cooperate.

  Shea tightened the saddle’s strap one last time and bit out a curse when the dratted beast side stepped. This was why she hated beasts of burden.

  Her feet could carry her anywhere she needed to go without the added frustration of dealing with such a contrary animal. She had enough of those to deal with as it was.

  It took a bit of pleading, cursing, and finally bribery in the form of the apple intended for her midmorning snack, but eventually she had the saddle on correctly and her pack tied in place. She tightened the pack’s strap one last time for good measure.

  Keeping her head still, she let her eyes wander around the small courtyard they were using as a staging area to prepare for their journey.

  Dane and Witt had left at the earliest possible hour for their negotiations, leaving Shea in charge of packing.

  She placed orders for the supplies days ago, in the hope that they’d be leaving soon. Despite her early preparation, she had difficulty prying those items from the merchants’ storehouses.

  In fact, it took her most of the morning. Now, at midmorning, they were finally ready to leave. If the townspeople let them.

  Given the men watching Shea’s group with thinly veiled anger, she had her doubts that their departure would be an easy one.

  In these types of towns gossip spread like wildfire. News of their imminent departure had made the rounds, and a crowd began forming even before they asked for their horses.

  Shea wasn’t the only one uneasy at the attention. Burke and Sid eyed the watching crowd, noting the dangerous undercurrent and grim faces.

  A flutter in her peripheral vision had her looking up. Great. People watched from the windows too.

  Several men had their arms crossed over their chests. One spit on the ground and walked off shaking his head.

  “You ever seen anything like this before?” Burke asked, coming to stand beside her where she was cinching Dane’s saddle.

  Shea glanced back at the townspeople. “Once.”

  When it was clear she wasn’t going to say anything else, Burke stepped forward to rest a hand on the horse’s neck while she bent to check its hooves.

  “What happened?”

  “Ambush. Killed three of our party.”

  “No shit?”

  “I was just an apprentice then, but when a town gets this interested in your business, it’s never good.” She paused in her ministrations and gave him a long look. “James and Cam would probably tell you the same thing.”

  He held her gaze for a long moment before walking off without a word. Shea watched him go before turning sharply back to the horse. Her movements were rough as she ran her hand along the saddle for a last check. When the horse tossed its head to avoid the bit, she nearly threw it at the beast. Taking a deep breath, she hid her face against the saddle.

  They should have left last night. She should have MADE them leave.

  Clearing her throat, she lifted her head and made sure her hands were gentle as she got the horse to take the bit and brought the reins over its head. Next, she moved to Witt’s horse. Normally, she made the men do their own preparations, but she wanted to put this town behind her as soon as possible.

  She was almost finished saddling the last horse when Dane and Witt strode into the courtyard with the elders right on their heels.

  Damn. She could already tell from the set expressions on both Witt and Dane’s faces that the talks had been pointless.

  Seeing her standing beside three saddled horses, the elders’ faces soured. The hawk nosed one sneered before turning and hissing something at their head elder.

  A thread of strain in his voice, the white haired man said, “Please. Rethink this. You’ve come all this way. You shouldn’t go home empty handed.”

  “Yes,” the middle aged, black haired man said, his voice amiable and placating as he stepped in front of Dane. “What will your elders think? At this rate, you’ll have wasted months of your time with no agreement to show for it.”

  Witt strode past the cluster and right to Shea, grabbing the reins. He spared a brief glance at the mob that watched.

  “You were right,” he said softly.

  She didn’t respond and watched as Dane threw up his hands before shoving through the three to stalk towards Shea.

  A horn sounded before he reached them, blaring out in three sharp blows.

  There was a breathless pause. Then with a rush of air sound returned.

  “They’re here. The Hawkvale is here.”

  The square exploded with movement as it emptied, leaving only Shea’s men and the elders standing there. Burke and the others looked around in bewilderment at suddenly finding t
hemselves alone.

  Shea noted the look of gloating satisfaction on Paul’s face before her attention was pulled to where the elders arranged themselves in a line facing the gate.

  She got the kind of feeling she sometimes got when life was about to kick her in the teeth. The kind where all the rules got thrown out, and her world was set on its head.

  She’d had that feeling only twice before. Both times had been devastating.

  “We need to leave.” Shea threw the reins at Dane and headed for her horse. “Now.”

  “I won’t argue with that.”

  Warriors clad in leather armor over silk undershirts thundered through the gate, led by a commanding figure with broad cheekbones and smiling eyes. He pulled his horse to a stop in front of the elders, barely sparing them a glance as they sank into deep bows. He frowned at the buildings surrounding the courtyard. None were taller than two story but all were well made with solid craftsmanship.

  The man pulled on the reins, wheeling his horse around and nearly hitting the hawk nosed elder with the beast’s rear. He rode up to a dark haired man with a scar on his neck, whose undershirt was a vibrant blue.

  “Looks like you won that bet.” He gestured at the buildings. “Not nearly as backwards as the last. It could almost be called civilized.”

  “When will you learn, Darius?” His friend caught the coin flipped at him before shooting a distasteful look around the square. “It never pays to bet against me. You’ll always lose.”

  Shea’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

  Of all the misbegotten things that reside in the mist.

  It was the man from the canyon. The one Fallon had unhorsed to pursue her. She ducked behind her horse, using it to shield her from view. This wasn’t good.

  It was in fact, very, very bad.

  Why hadn’t she made everybody leave last night?

  When they refused to listen to her, she should have left and told them she’d meet them on the road.

  Noticing her antics, Witt shot a frown at her. She widened her eyes and nodded at Darius. He shook his head, not understanding.

  She bit back a growl and peeked over her horse. The elders had straightened from their bow and the middle-aged man from yesterday stepped forward to address the warriors.

  Before he could do more than offer refreshments, Darius waved him away. “I didn’t come here to drink tea and talk about dirt, Lowlander. Your tithes are due. Give us what you owe or go the way of Edgecomb.”

  “Of course, my lord.” The elder’s lips twisted into a facsimile of a smile but was more of a grimace. “The townspeople are bringing the wheat out now.”

  “And the men?” Darius’s companion asked sharply. “Don’t try to pawn off weaklings and half-wits like last time.”

  The men at Darius’ back shifted menacingly forward. A horse, picking up its rider’s mood, pawed angrily at the ground and snorted loudly.

  Shea’s mare shifted uneasily. Shea patted her and whispered encouragement. The animal just needed to stay still until Darius left.

  “Of course not, my lord.” The elder licked his lips nervously before gesturing with shaking hands at Shea’s group. “In fact, that’s them. You’re welcome to take a look if you wish.”

  “Might as well,” Darius drawled, kicking his horse into motion.

  “What?” Paul squawked. Up until now, he hadn’t paid much attention as he and Sid whispered amongst themselves. It finally dawned on him that these weren’t good guys, and they were in a bit of danger. “What is this?” he shouted at the elder.

  “Quiet, Paul,” Dane hissed, watching Darius’s approach warily.

  Darius pulled his horse to a stop in front of Dane, looking down with assessing eyes. “So you’re the tribute this time.”

  He examined the rest of them. He didn’t seem impressed.

  Shea ducked her head further into her horse.

  “Sir,” Dane said, drawing his attention back to him. Shea could have kissed him for that. “I’m afraid my companions and I are at a bit of a loss. We traveled here for trade. I don’t know what deal they’ve made with you, but they don’t speak for us.”

  Darius listened. His lips curled into a broad smile as the skin around his eyes crinkled. He was handsome, Shea realized. Even charming.

  If Dane was lucky, he’d have the same effect once he matured a little.

  The elders held themselves stiffly as they waited in anticipation.

  Darius arched an eyebrow at his companion. The blue shirted man shook his head in disgust and leaned back in his saddle, turning to spit on the ground at the elder’s feet.

  Darius folded his hands across his pummel and spoke to Dane, “They fucked you over but good.”

  “Sir?”

  A rueful quirk tilted Darius’ lips as he turned his face to the sky. “Hate to say it, but they did. Smart bastards to find some poor fools to fulfill their tithe.” He looked back at Dane and shrugged. “Doesn’t matter how you came to be here, only that you are. Fallon Hawkvale, Warlord over the Trateri Clans, owns your ass. He’s your master now. Forget wherever you came from. Maybe if you get lucky you’ll become a horseman or foot soldier, but whatever life you lived before is gone.”

  Dane’s skin turned a sickly shade of white at this pronouncement.

  Shea, for her part, felt like she’d been punched in the stomach at Fallon’s name.

  Looks like she’d been right about him. Fat lot of good that did her now.

  Darius leaned forward and cuffed the side of Dane’s head. “Don’t worry, you’ll grow to like the clans soon enough. Now, let’s see what kind of recruits we have this time.”

  Dane made a strangled sound as Darius straightened. Witt sent Dane a look that said pull it together.

  It dawned on the others the situation had turned bad. They shifted uneasily under the weight of Darius’s regard.

  Shea stared grimly at her saddle.

  The men shifted away as the steady clop, clop, clop of a horse approached. Her mare sidestepped as the other horse invaded her space.

  Shea tried to hold the animal in place, but there wasn’t much she could do against hundreds of pounds of determined horseflesh.

  Abandoned by even her horse, Shea glared at the ground. Maybe he wouldn’t remember her. They’d only met briefly, and he’d been focused on Fallon for most of that time.

  “What do we have here? A girl?” an amused voice said above her. When she didn’t respond, he added, “Glaring at the ground won’t make me go away.”

  Fine then. She’d glare at him instead. Might as well get it over with anyway. At least this way, she’d know; he either recognized her or he didn’t.

  No comprehension registered in his eyes, just a mild interest.

  Perhaps she was safe.

  Recognition dawned. He gave a shout.

  Shea frowned even harder at him as he threw his head back and roared with laughter.

  Witt and Dane gave her equal looks of puzzlement. The wheels spun in their brains as they looked at her, then at him and then back at her.

  Witt lifted his hands slightly in question.

  She’d told him about Fallon’s men in the canyon, so he knew how she’d escaped.

  Curious as to what had caught Darius’s interest, his companion prodded his horse forward. By the look on his face, he didn’t understand why his friend found her so amusing.

  “Cale, you won’t believe who this is,” Darius finally said, his laughter winding down, though humor still glinted in his eyes.

  “Especially if you don’t stop laughing like a loon,” Cale complained acerbically, drawing his horse to a stop. “You’re supposed to be intimidating these dirt grubbers. I don’t see how this is going to instill fear in their hearts and terror in their minds.”

  “This is her.” Darius tilted his head towards Shea.

  “Her?” Cale frowned.

  “Her.”

  Cale’s eyes went sharply to Shea as he scanned her up and down, realization sett
ling in. “You mean?”

  Darius grinned and nodded.

  “I’ll be damned.” Cale settled back in his saddle and looked at her with amazement. “Guess this village has something to recommend it after all.”

  “I take it Fallon will be pleased with this tribute,” another man said, joining the two. He was brown. Everything about him was some variation of the color. He had brown hair, brown eyes and his skin had been tanned a deep walnut by the sun. With his addition, there were now three men on horseback surrounding Shea.

  She kept her attention trained on them, acutely aware of the unrest behind her as Paul and Sid began muttering in discontent.

  All of the men in front of her had scars on various parts of their bodies and carried swords in scabbards at their sides. They were muscled, but it was the kind that came from lifting a sword and riding a horse everyday rather than the kind developed from plowing fields and harvesting its bounty. Given the air of danger each man exuded, even Darius who seemed to find humor in everything, it was obvious these weren’t the sort of men you could piss off and expect to walk away unscathed.

  She hoped Paul and the others took that into consideration.

  Darius smothered a grin when she lifted her chin and glared at all three of them. She’d never liked people talking about her.

  “You made quite an impression last time, little spider. Fallon doesn’t like it when his toys go missing.”

  Confusion must have shown on Shea’s face because Darius gave her a long look before continuing. “Entire army has orders to bring you in if they come across someone meeting your description. It just so happens I was there that day and know exactly what you look like.”

 

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