The dead man's face morphed again. This time Billy's eyes stared back at her, a toothy grin spread across his handsome face. She clenched her fists. He was mocking her. Laughing at her. Her heart pounded. He'd been playing her for a fool. She'd trusted him and he'd been stringing her along the whole time. Her grandmother had been right. He was just like the rest of them. Worse even.
Her breath came in stuttering gasps, and she launched forwards.
She pounded her fists against Billy's chest. Blood spattered her face and coated her hands. Tears dripped from her eyes and fell onto his tunic. How dare he lie there smiling when he'd killed her grandmother. Ordella lifted her fists again.
Firm hands gripped her waist and bustled her away. A deep voice gave an order, and another voice, a woman's voice that she recognized, spoke, too.
Something was thrust into her hands, a metal flask perhaps, and someone forcefully helped her to tilt it to her lips. She tried to resist, but the hands were too strong. A bitter liquid filled her mouth, setting her teeth on edge. Her tongue tingled. She winced and gagged, but she couldn't help swallowing. She coughed, her throat burning. With her fingers, she traced the path of the liquid down her chest and into her stomach. She coughed again. A warmth spread through her body, and she blinked twice. The world had stopped spinning. The blurriness started to recede to the corners of her vision, then disappeared altogether.
Ordella lifted the flask to her lips again.
"Enough," said a deep voice from behind her.
She turned her head. A tall man with cropped brown hair and a neatly-trimmed beard stood next to Merisca, a quiver of arrows slung across his right hip.
"No more," he said.
Ordella looked at Merisca. There wasn't a trace of panic in her friend's eyes.
The Islander smiled. "Listen to him."
Ordella lowered the flask and allowed the man to take it from her. She turned her hands in front of her face. Smears of blood glistened across the skin of her knuckles. Not old and rust-colored like in the Warren, but bright red. Fresh and sticky. She flexed her fingers. What had she done?
The bodies of the two soldiers lay on the ground by her feet. The Kelsharlan with the thick beard had an arrow sticking out of his chest, his purple tunic stained black around his wound. The ground to his side was slick with blood. His eyes were closed and his weatherbeaten skin was now pale.
Ordella shuddered. It'd been the same with her grandmother. One moment she'd been cradling Gwenith in her arms, the next she was holding a corpse. All that had been her grandmother had left with the final breath from her lungs, leaving behind a withered shell of skin and bones. A statue, cold and lifeless. Ordella sniffed. The last remaining person who she loved had been taken from her.
Images of the Warren filled her mind. Billy looked away from her as he plunged his traitor's blade into her grandmother's heart, and Skerrick flashed a wolf's grin as he strode away from the scene. Ordella's heart thumped in her chest, and she bit down hard on her lip. She'd make them pay for what they'd done. Her head pounded and she balled her bloodstained hands.
Merisca crouched down next to her. "It's alright, Ordella." The Islander stroked Ordella's tangled hair. "It's going to be alright."
Ordella brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. It wasn't alright and it never would be again. Tears flowed from her eyes. She sniffed. Her grandmother was dead, and nothing anyone said would bring her back.
*****
Ordella coughed and opened her eyes. It was dark and a fire had been built a few yards from where she was slumped. Strips of skewered meat roasted in the flames, and a rich aroma filled her nostrils. She swallowed. Her stomach rumbled. A drop of fat dripped from meat, and the fire hissed and flared.
"So you're finally awake." The voice belonged to the man with short hair. He walked over to her and extended his hand.
"Jereth," he said. His grip was firm, and his fingers were calloused. "And you must be Ordella."
How did he know who she was? Ordella pulled back her arm. Her hand glinted in the glow of the flames like a bloodfly catching the light of the Warren's torches. She curled her fingers. They were coated and stiff. Blood. Then it all came rushing back. She swayed, and a sourness filled her mouth. What had she done?
"Ordella!" Merisca rushed to her side. "Do you know where you are?"
"I remember the man," she said. "The Kelsharlan with the thick beard." Ordella looked around her. His body was gone. The steep-sided channel was gone. She examined her bloody fingers. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I thought Billy and Skerrick were... I didn't know..."
"You don't need to explain." Jereth crouched down in front of her. "Grief must come out in its own way." He nodded to Merisca. "Your friend told me what you've been through."
Ordella snapped around to face the Islander. How dare she.
"You had no right..."
The man grabbed Ordella by the shoulders.
"She did the right thing. She had to make me understand so we could help you."
Ordella looked at her feet.
"I'm sorry," she said. "It's just..."
Jereth waved his hand. "I told you, there's no need to apologize." He rose up and stepped over to the fire. He gripped one of the skewers by its end and turned the meat. His eyes flicked over to where he'd been sitting, and he beckoned with his hand.
"Boys. Come and introduce yourselves properly."
Hob and Rob walked over to stand next to Jereth. Ordella glanced at their faces. Hob looked away, but Rob stared back, his brow wrinkled as if he didn't know what to make of her.
"Hob isn't your real name is it?" she said to the fat boy.
He shook his head.
Jereth laughed. "No, it's certainly not. He's called Dorely."
"Dorely," she said. "I think Hob might suit you better."
Hob tilted his head and smiled, his cheeks flushing pink.
Jereth pointed to the older boy, "And this is Much. Don't let his surly expression put you off." He ruffled the boy's hair. "Once you get past that, he's as loyal as a pup."
Much batted away Jereth's arm.
"Get off," he said, taking a step back. There wasn't a trace of the leg injury he'd been crying about earlier.
Ordella looked at him. "Why did you steal from us?"
"We were hungry," said Hob before Much could reply. "We were going to take it back home." He glanced up at Jereth, a sheepish expression on his face. "But we now know that it was the wrong thing to do."
"I haven't tasted rabbit for years. I was really looking forward to eating it," Ordella said. She swallowed.
Hob laughed.
"What's so funny?" she said.
"You still can." Hob pointed to the skewers sizzling over the fire. "That's your rabbit. Much had it in his bag the whole time."
Ordella breathed in deeply. After all that had happened, at least she'd go to sleep with a full belly.
The two boys returned to where they'd been sitting. Hob laid down, his back against a tree trunk, and Much perched on a log next to Jereth. He took out a whetstone from his bag and started to sharpen his knife.
A small, dark brown bow was propped against a log by Jereth's leg. It was tightly strung and deeply curved, like a snake about to strike. It didn’t resemble any bow she'd seen before. Compared to her father's tall hunting bow, Jereth's looked like a child's toy. A quiver filled with arrows lent against the bow. Fletched with golden yellow feathers, they looked just like the ones that'd taken down the Kelsharlans.
Ordella closed her eyes. The soldiers hadn't stood a chance. Three arrows in a matter of seconds. It'd been over so quickly.
"Where are the others?" she asked.
Jereth looked up. "What others?"
"The other archers up on the ridge?" Ordella pressed. "Three arrows were fired almost at the same time. I remember that much."
"I was the only one up there." He pointed to the quiver by his feet. "All the arrows were mine."
She nodd
ed her head. Even Fletch from her village couldn't have loosed three arrows that quickly and still hit the target, and he was the best archer in Rittle. Better even than her father. Jereth simply couldn't have done what he claimed. She glanced at his strange little bow. Especially with that thing.
Jereth got to his feet, drew his knife and began to prise chunks of rabbit from the skewers onto five wide circular leaves he'd laid out on the ground by the edge of the fire.
Ordella studied his face. He looked trustworthy enough, but he wasn't telling her the truth, of that she was certain. She chewed on her lip. If he could lie about the other archers on the ridge, what else was he keeping from them?
He handed her a leaf full of roast rabbit. The meat steamed in the cool evening air.
"Eat it while it's hot," Jereth said. "Tomorrow we make for Oakhaven."
Ten
The trees in this part of the forest were larger and more gnarled than the ones they'd seen yesterday. Their branches, thick with leaves, stretched high into the air and meshed with the limbs of their neighbors to create a dense canopy, casting a gloom on the forest floor below.
Merisca emerged from behind a large blackthorn tree, clutching in her hand a dark green sprig with tiny pink flowers
"What do you think this can be used for?" She held the flower up for Ordella to admire. "I've never seen it before, except in books."
"I don't know," Ordella replied, struggling to keep the boredom from her voice. It was the fourth plant Merisca had shown her in the last hour.
"It's Lambley's Beard," she said. A wide grin spread across her face. "It's mainly used to help with toothache, but it has other properties too. Some healers use it to staunch the flow of blood. Apparently, it's even more effective than conkwort."
Up ahead, Jereth and the two boys, Hob and Much, were standing in the middle of the path, passing a water skin between them.
"Come on." Ordella turned to Merisca. "We shouldn't keep them waiting."
"I'm sorry," Merisca said. "You're right. I have to keep reminding myself that the plants will still be here tomorrow. It's a long time since I've been able to touch so many fresh ingredients." Her eyes scanned the undergrowth. "There's just so much to take in. It's going to take a while to get used to it."
Ordella clasped Merisca's hand and they walked over to join the others.
Jereth offered the water skin to Ordella. She took it from him and raised it to her lips.
"We're close to home," he said. "We should be there before sunset." Jereth fixed Merisca with a stare. "If we keep up a good pace."
Merisca looked away, rolling her eyes.
Jereth turned to Hob and Much. "I need you two to run on ahead. Tell Lera and Flynn to expect guests for dinner. Explain to them what's happened."
The boys nodded and then started to run up the trail. Ordella followed them with her eyes as they darted through the forest. The path veered to the right, and they soon disappeared from view behind a stand of giant ash trees.
"Let's get moving," Jereth said. He strode after the boys, his strange-looking bow clutched in his right hand and his quiver of yellow-fletched arrows swinging against his hip. Ordella followed him, matching her gait to his, and Merisca fell in behind, still holding the pink flower by the stem.
The shadows lengthened. They'd been walking for most of the day with only a brief pause for a lunch of berries and some salted meat Jereth had taken from his pack.
Ordella looked up. The trees were huge here, dwarfing those that grew around her childhood village. Their limbs towered above her, and their bark-covered trunks were so wide even a half-dozen tall men like Jereth might have struggled to wrap their arms around them.
Jereth smiled at here. "Sanctuary oaks," he said. "Tough, evergreen and the largest trees in the Border Wood. And these here aren't the biggest ones."
Ordella chewed her lip. "I'm guessing we're close then," she said. "Your village, it's called Oakhaven, isn't it?"
Jereth nodded. "Not much gets past you, does it?" he said. "We're near."
He threw the water skin to Ordella. "Wash your hands and face. Lera will look upon you more favorably if you aren't covered in blood."
Ordella pooled some water in the palms of her hands and splashed it on her blistered face. With the corner of her tunic, she scrubbed at her cheeks and wiped her arms and hands. Grime still remained under her chipped nails, but that couldn't be helped.
"Is Lera in charge?" Ordella said. She handed the water skin to Merisca.
Jereth nodded. "Along with Flynn. They founded Oakhaven together."
"And if they don't look upon us favorably? What then?"
"You don't have anything to worry about. Lera and Flynn are good people." Jereth looked at her. "Trust me."
He sounded honest enough, and he didn't drop his gaze when she caught his eye. But he'd lied to her before. She looked at the curved bow in his hand. He hadn't been truthful about the other archers on the ridge, so why should she trust him now? She forced a smile and turned to Merisca.
The Islander passed the water skin back to Jereth and ran her hand through her tangled curls. There wasn't a trace of doubt on her face. Not a single hint that she thought Jereth was misleading them.
Ordella sighed. Perhaps she was being too cautious.
*****
The sun was beginning to dip behind the trees, bathing the forest in golden light.
Jereth raised his hand
"We're here," he said. "Welcome to Oakhaven."
Ordella narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?" There wasn't anything in front of them except for more of the huge sanctuary oaks they'd been walking past for the last few hours.
"Look up." Jereth pointed to the tallest tree.
Ordella tilted her head. Nothing, except for branches and leaves, and bark and twigs.
"Keep looking," he said.
She let her eyes fall to the base of the tree then ran them up its trunk and along its limbs.
"Where exactly?" she said.
Jereth pointed at a cleft where the lowest thick branch sprouted from the trunk. "Focus on that spot."
Ordella gazed, her eyes open wide. There! Something was against the trunk. A wooden building, almost exactly the same color and pattern as the tree's bark.
She scanned along the branch. Outlines of other buildings became clear. Camouflaged huts connected by rope bridges. Platforms and ladders, and cunningly concealed houses.
"Incredible, isn't it?" Jereth said.
She nodded, still staring into the branches.
Now that she'd got her eye in, the trees revealed more of their secrets. Up in the high branches, men and women dressed in light green tunics walked along railed corridors, moving from tree to tree, and children scampered up rope ladders and bounded across slatted wooden bridges like squirrels on the hunt for acorns.
Ordella looked away. As impressive as it was, there was no way she'd be going all the way up there.
"Let's go and meet Flynn and Lera, shall we?" said Jereth.
She bit her lip. "It's not right at the top is it?"
"Not afraid of heights are you?" Jereth laughed. "You picked the wrong place to visit if you are."
A flush passed over her cheeks.
"Don't worry," he said. "The hall is one of the lowest buildings. You'll be fine. Follow me."
He strode up to the furthest tree of a stand of four sanctuary oaks. A wooden platform with a building upon it lay in the crook of the first branch. Shaped to fit snugly into the nook, its walls and roof looked like they'd grown out of the tree in the same way that it had sprouted leaves and limbs. None of its walls were straight, nor was there an obvious way to reach it.
"How do we get up?" Merisca asked.
"It's simple, we take the stairs," he replied, gesturing to the tree's trunk.
Now that Ordella knew what she was looking for, a series of steps emerged into view. Built out of timber and disguised to look like the tree's bark, they coiled the trunk, snaking all the way up
to the platform above.
Jereth slammed his foot down on the first step.
"It's perfectly safe." He jumped up and down. "They hold my weight, so they'll definitely support you."
He looked at Ordella and tugged on a dark green vine that encircled the tree. "Hold onto this if it makes you feel safer."
Ordella swallowed and clasped her hands together.
Jereth trotted up the next few steps and then disappeared from view as the stairs took him to the other side of the trunk.
"You go next, Ordella," Merisca said, pushing her forward. "If you stumble back, I'll be there to catch you."
"No, you go," Ordella said. "I don't want to be the cause of us both falling to our deaths."
"You're not going to fall." Merisca strode onto the first step. "Just take your time, and don't look down." She continued to climb.
Ordella breathed out through her nose. Placing her foot gingerly on the bottom stair, she reached above her head and grasped the thick stem of ivy. She pulled on it. It held firm. At least that was something.
Facing the trunk, and clenching the vine so tightly her knuckles turned white, Ordella side-stepped onto the second stair, and then the third.
She glanced ahead. Merisca had already made it to the other side of the tree and must have been close to reaching the platform. Ordella sighed. Her heartbeat pulsed through her whole body, and a sheen of sweat covered her skin. She counted to three in her mind then shuffled up onto the next step.
"Here. Take my hand." Merisca reached down from the top of the platform.
Ordella clutched her friend's hand, completed the last few steps and walked onto the wooden boards. She sat down and pushed back her hair. Jereth stood in front of her.
"See, you made it. And it will be even easier next time."
Ordella looked up but didn't respond. She studied Jereth's face. His brown eyes held her gaze. After all that, he'd better not be setting them up. Surely she hadn't just crab-walked her way straight into a lobster pot.
Slave's Gamble Page 7