by Guy Antibes
“Those are small remote camps. Men can act a little funny.”
“We know, Plant. Stop scaring the girl,” Willa said. “You’ve got me shivering with your talk.”
“Good luck to both of you.” He rode to Willa and gave her a lingering kiss. They had spent the night together at the Seven Trees Inn.
“And to you, Plant and Vister,” Sara said.
“An honor, Duchess,” Vister said, giving Sara a bow from his horse. He fell off and brushed himself off as the others laughed. He joined in. “Never bowed from a horse before. You gotta watch yourself. Time for us to head East and you West.” With a very red face he turned his horse back towards Seven Trees and nodded to Plant to join him.
Sara and Willa didn’t begin their trek until the men had disappeared around a bend. Sara took a deep breath.
“Are you ready for this?” Willa said.
“Better now than later. Ben will think that he’s got another six months before I take over. We’ve been through this before.”
“Indeed we have. It’s not something that you have to do yourself. A Duke would send some men to lay down the law to Squire Featherwood.”
“He won’t be Squire when we leave,” Sara said.
“That’s why a Duke or a Duchess would send some men.”
Sara shook her head and looked up at the mountains that filled their view. “Yanna told me that the Duke was running out of patience. Belting Hollow will not be a pleasant place and I want to take care of it myself. It’s something that I need to do.”
Willa bit her lip. “I won’t say no more. I’m here to back you up. At least we have guns and Featherwood won’t.”
Sara would do all she could to avoid weapons. Guns weren’t the perfect answer to everything, but she felt prepared for any eventuality. She shook the reins and felt her return to Shattuk Downs had just begun.
They were truly on their own and would sleep out in the open until after they crossed the pass. Sara saw gravel rolled into the dirt, which indicated that the road had recently been worked on. She hoped they had repaired the road all they way up and down the pass.
The mountains hid the sun, bringing an early twilight, when they came across the first camp.
A sentry stopped them in the middle of the road.
“Two ladies heading up the pass? We don’t get many women all on their own.”
Sara lifted her chin. “I’ve made the crossing before. I have business in north Shattuk Downs and will end up in Obridge. I don’t have time to take a carriage.”
“A few weeks earlier and we wouldn’t have let you. We had an avalanche of snow and rocks cover the road. It’s all clear now. Will you be staying with us tonight? The Lieutenant will be disappointed if two ladies won’t stop by.”
“Certainly,” Willa said. “Do you have a space for us to put our blankets?”
“None needed. We have tent cabins down here. There are a few extra for travelers. We’re exactly a day out of Seven Trees, so we get enough guests. If you can put up with a lumpy cot, they’re yours. I’ll notify Lieutenant Hayman.
Willa muttered her thanks. “Where?”
“Just up on the upper side of camp. Ask any soldier. The Lieutenant will come to you while you take care of your horses.”
“That was easy,” Sara said as they pulled up at the farthest tent up the road. They dismounted and took all of the gear off of their mounts. One more night on this side and one night on the other and they would be into Shattuk Downs proper.
Sara brushed the packhorse while Willa took a bucket hanging from a trough to search for water. The Lieutenant walked up.
“You and your mother?”
Sara shrugged. “That’s good enough.”
He looked sideways at her. “Sara Featherwood?”
How did he know her name? “I am.” She didn’t want to lie to the soldier.
“We were told you’d be heading this way, but we didn’t know exactly when. Yanna Silverthread sent a message. You travel with the blessing of those in high places.”
“I do.” Sara said. Yanna’s warning was a surprise. She hoped Yanna’s assistance didn’t come with unwelcome strings. “What do you hear of Shattuk Downs?” Perhaps she could change the subject.
“We’ve only had a few travelers through here in the last week or so. The road’s been blocked since just after Winter’s Rise. There are some troubles remaining in the North and things are still a bit unsettled. Obridge is about back to normal and the new Grand Duke…” the man shrugged, “time will tell. I’m not so current on the south.”
“What of Belting Hollow?” She held her breath while he thought of a reply.
“Not a good place right now. They didn’t fare too well in the uprising. I think you know that, don’t you?”
Sara nodded. “I know some of it. We’re headed there first, then to Obridge and finally Stonebridge.”
“That’s a circuitous route to Stonebridge.”
“Not really, I grew up in Belting Hollow. I want to see how the people have fared in the last year. I don’t get many letters.”
“I see,” Lieutenant Hayman said, but it was plain that he didn’t see.
“I’d appreciate it if our passing would be dealt with in a discreet manner.”
He saluted and smiled. “Part of Commander Silverthread’s message. Would you join us for dinner?”
Sara pursed her lips. “I mean no disrespect, but we will decline. We’ll use the fire ring in front of the tent.”
The man seemed put out.
Sara searched Willa’s bags and pulled out three bottles of ale, brewed in Parth.
“Here, enjoy it and accept it as a token of my personal apology.”
He reddened. “I meant no disrespect.”
She thrust them into his arms. “None taken. We’ll be leaving as soon as we can tomorrow. Thank you for your visit and your concern.” She smiled. “If you don’t mind, I need to tend to our horses and climb into the lovely cot in the tent. I had expected to lay on rocky soil, so it’s a treat, if you can believe it.”
“Our pleasure,” he said. “It’s quite a treat and we appreciate it.” He left her with a big smile on his face.
Willa returned with the bucket sloshing over. “That our host?”
“He is and thanks to Plant and Yanna Silverthread, we are in good hands.”
~
The sky had begun to lighten when they turned up the trail. They had a hot dinner, but just a roll decorated with a heavy layer of strawberry jam and cold water to drink for breakfast. No clouds cluttered the sky and by midday, they had reached a small detachment of three men who guarded a rock passage. They shared their meal with them and left a bottle of ale, after telling them that Lieutenant Hayman had accepted a few bottles.
The men wanted to talk and talk. Sara thought it strange, but eventually she pulled out of their camp and regretted the delay. They might have to stop before the other camp.
By the time night fell, as Sara thought, they hadn’t quite reached the last of the camps. They stopped in a little valley for the night. Willa suggested that they keep watch and Sara took the first half of the evening. She kept time with the moon’s movement. At midnight, it would be gone from the sky. Sara bundled up with her blankets by the tree they used for some cover. They decided on no fire.
It didn’t matter to Sara. She thought about Shattuk Downs and took in the smells of the trees and the aromatic plants that grew at this altitude. She smiled, just living in the moment and trying to eliminate all of her troubles from her mind.
Sara dropped off, but voices awakened her. She quietly unsheathed her sword and pulled her loaded gun from the sack beside her. She couldn’t wake Willa without making a sound. There were three voices and they stopped at the far end of the meadow. Sara threw caution aside and stood, slowly moving towards Willa. She nudged her with her foot.
Willa sat up quickly. “Time for watch?” Her voice carried across the clearing.
“No. Visitors,” Sara whispered and mo
ved away from Willa and back into the woods. She leaned against a tree, using her ears as her primary sense.
A twig cracked to her right. She moved to her left and used the tree as a shield. The man carried a shuttered lantern. Sara used the tiny point of light to follow the man. He held a naked sword in his hand as he walked, the points of flame would reflect off the shiny metal.
The man passed so close, she heard his breathing. She followed about three paces away as he made his way towards the clearing that Sara had when she retreated into the wood.
“Now!” came a shout from across the clearing. Three lantern shutters opened, revealing Willa standing with a sword in one hand and a gun in the other.
“Stay back. I’m just an old woman trying to get to Shattuk Downs as quickly as I can. Leave me alone.”
Laughter.
“An old woman wielding a sword and a club? Where is Sara Featherwood? We want more ale.” They were the three soldiers who they passed at midday.
“Are you really soldiers? You aren’t wearing uniforms,” Willa said
“Don’t want to get our uniforms all bloody, now do we? Now where is the tall girl?” Sara heard the uncertainty in his voice. They were after her.
That was all Sara needed to know. These men deserved no quarter. From the dark, she ran one through with her sword and shot another. Willa shot the last man who dropped his lantern and that set fire to the grass in his haste to flee.
Sara checked the fallen men. The man she stabbed would never breathe again, but the ball had hit the other man in the shoulder. “Tie him up, while I take care of the fire.” Sara loaded her gun again and took her blanket to extinguish the fire. She then used up all of their water to make sure the blaze wouldn’t return.
“Watch him. I’ll take one of the lanterns. I have to find the other man or he’ll track us all the way to Shattuk Downs.”
Sara’s usual sorrow at taking a life didn’t seem to operate in the darkness. How many men had these three killed before between the two camps? She didn’t have the time for this as she ran into the woods at the far side of the clearing and un-shuttered the lantern just long enough to look for evidence of the man’s passing. She sheathed her sword and held her gun in one hand and the lantern in the other.
She crossed where the three men had bent the dry grass before they had split up. In a few more minutes she found the grass bending back towards where they came and then she found the man’s footprints in the soil along with drops of blood. Sara shuttered the lamp and moved slowly through the trees, listening for more sounds. Every so often she had to use the lamp again to make sure she headed in the right direction.
She heard a horse neighing and ran towards it. Her quarry tried to jump on the horse, but it seemed he couldn’t quite manage it with his leg injury. She flashed the lamp on him and could see the ball hole in his thigh.
“You picked the wrong ladies, this time, soldier.”
He looked back and threw a knife at her. The blade flattened and hit her left forearm, but didn’t stay in, however she dropped her gun to the ground, discharging it into the woods. The man turned on her and drew his sword.
“Without a gun, you’re nothing,” he said.
Sara grabbed her own sword from its scabbard. “I don’t want to fight a wounded opponent. Give up.”
“To you? If I do that I’ll hang for sure. I have more than a chance fighting a woman with a fancy weapon and anyway, if I kill you, I’ll have enough money to leave this hellhole.” He lunged, grimacing through the pain in his leg.
Sara could barely parry the heavy weapon. He relentlessly kept on the offensive, pushing her back. Sara held on to the lantern to see what blows he telegraphed, more afraid of what would happen in this fight in the dark than at any other time in her life. She pushed her fears back into her mind as she focused on staying alive—blow by blow.
His attacks seemed to last for hours when Sara tripped on a rock, causing her to stumble back. He slashed at her sword and it fell to the forest floor. Sara shuttered the lamp and rolled to his right in the darkness. She could hear the sword whistle through the air to where she had fallen, but she could tell he was tiring.
She pulled the knife from her boot and rolled quickly around towards his unarmed side. She doubted she could find her sword in the dark. Sara could feel the blood soak her sleeve and run down across the fingers of her left hand but she’d have to ignore the cut or she wouldn’t live to see morning. The knife would have to end everything.
“Where did you go?” Evidently the lantern light had given him a dose of night-blindness. He began to wave the sword back and forth.
Sara needed a distraction. She didn’t even wait to say her trigger word. A ball of flame appeared right in front of the man’s eyes. He raised his hand to block the light while Sara rose up and stabbed him in the chest with her knife.
He feebly swung the sword and began to wheeze. She must have struck a lung. He dropped to the ground and Sara stayed where she crouched down, defenseless should the man rise again. His breathing began to labor. “Damned woman,” were his last words. He wheezed for another minute until his breathing stopped.
Sara sat back from her crouch and recoiled in pain. Her arm began to throb. She put her hand on the wound and felt the stickiness of blood. She marshaled what energy she could and retrieved the lantern. Her opponent was done for.
She picked up the lantern and went to the soldiers’ horses, rummaging around in their saddlebags and finding a roll of bleached muslin for bandages. Wrapping it around her arm as best she could, she took care of the worst of the bleeding and found her gun and sword. She pulled her knife from the man’s side and wiped it on his shirt. The horses would have to wait.
A light in the clearing helped her find Willa. Their captive sat against a tree with the lantern pointed in his direction.
“Did you find him?”
Sara nodded, but realized that Willa couldn’t see. “Yes. We fought.”
“You couldn’t defeat Jannis in a fair fight. I heard the gun go off,” their captive said. Sara didn’t appreciate the automatic disdain.
“I could slip my knife in your ribs like I did his. He inflicted damage enough. Sara put the light on her forearm.
“Sara!” Willa rose and took the lantern from her. “You didn’t too good of a job with that bandage.”
“I made it here.” Sara sat down hard on the ground. “All the water is gone, but I took one of the soldiers’ water flask. We need to clean this.”
“Ale. We’ll clean it with ale. Alcohol purifies wounds. Remember the cider we used on Meldey?”
Sara didn’t remind Willa what happened to Meldey on the road to Parth.
“I have a wound in my stomach,” their captive said chuckling obviously hoping for a drink.
Sara didn’t feel polite. “You’ll have a wound around your neck soon enough. I’d rather you use water. We’ll use the one I brought.”
Willa took the flask from Sara, removed the cap and poured water over her arm. Willa wound a bit of the roll around her finger and put it over the two-inch cut and then wrapped it up with the rest of the bandage.
Sara wiped the sweat from her brow and felt weak, but the pain had subsided. She looked at Willa. “We should do something about him.”
Willa nodded and pulled the shirttails from the dead man and used her own knife to cut colored bandages. “Can you hold the lantern on him and the gun?” Willa said. “I don’t trust him.”
“I wouldn’t either,” Sara said. Willa cut the man’s shirt away. His shoulder looked awful. She felt a certain satisfaction when the man yelled, hearing the echo in the forest.
Willa took her lantern and poked around in the wound. “Most of the horror is the man’s blood. I’m going to find the ball. Hopefully it won’t be lodged in his shoulder. Here it is.” She held out a flattened metal disk. She poured ale on the shoulder. The man yelled some more and then passed out.
Without the struggling, Willa cut more strips and
bandaged the man up as best she could. Neither of them thought they could sleep, but birds woke Sara up in the morning. All three of them had slept through the last half of the night.
Sara’s arm ached. Willa’s bandage was tight, but blood had seeped through. It took the both of them to collect the horses and put the dead men crosswise on their saddles. Willa had wanted to bury them, but Sara wanted the other soldiers further up the mountain to see their civilian clothes. The wounded soldier needed help to mount. Willa wouldn’t let him hold the reins.
They ate a bread roll each and downed the water in the soldiers’ water flasks, as distasteful as that was for Sara. It took them three hours to reach the final camp up the mountain.
“Who goes there?” Another sentry stopped them. He lost his speech when he saw them come up the trail.
“We were attacked in the night and brought the robbers.”
The sentry ran back into the camp. This station held about fifteen soldiers. All of them soon surrounded their horses.
“Harrol, what happened?” The sergeant started by talking to the wounded soldier.
“These two attacked us in the middle of the night. We tried to fight them off, but they had guns.”
“Guns? Let me see?” He looked at Sara. She took the ramming rod and removed the cartridge and handed it over. “Where did you get this?”
“From Doctor Perry Hedge, who invented this gun. My name is Sara Featherwood. I am on my way to Obridge through Belting Hollow, where I grew up.”
“I remember her. She came with Captain Choster last year,” one of the soldiers said. “She’s the one who stopped the uprising on the other side.”
“Are you who he says you are?”
Sara nodded. “I am. If these men were taken unawares by us, why do they have their boots on and are wearing regular clothes? Have you had travelers come through heading down to Parthy and not show up at Lieutenant Hayman’s station?”
“We don’t keep track,” the sergeant said, looking somewhat abashed.
“Maybe you better. When you get to their camp, I’d do some looking around for graves and look at their possessions for stolen goods. How long have they been together down there?”