Slave's Gamble

by Jay Stonesmith

  "Close the door, close the door," Flynn said from his chair, and Ordella pushed it shut. He had a woolen blanket over his legs. His skin, once tanned and firm, now looked sallow and lined, and the red hair on his head and in his beard showed streaks of grey.

  "There's no need to stare, Ordella!" he said. She dropped her gaze, a heat spreading across her cheeks. He smiled. "I know I don't look as handsome as I once did." He adjusted the blanket across his lap. "I'll be back to my old self in no time. Just you wait."

  "Jereth tells us that you wish to leave Oakhaven," Lera said. Her arms were folded across her pregnant belly. She shuffled in her seat and sighed. Her face was fuller than it had been when they'd first stood before her. The extra weight made her appear less severe, but her tone was still cold.

  "That's correct," Ordella replied. "I was hoping to visit Rittle, my home before I was taken to the Warren."

  "Why would you want to do that?" Lera said.

  Ordella chewed on her lip. How much should she tell them? She hoped Jereth hadn't said more than he'd promised he would.

  "I just want to see it again," she said. She made sure to look at Flynn as well as Lera. "I'm not really sure why, but it feels like it's something I have to do." This at least was true. Perhaps it would be enough to convince them. Maybe she wouldn't have to mention the key. She resisted the urge to trace the outline of her pendant, hidden underneath the cloth of her tunic.

  "I can understand that," Flynn said. "You were wrenched from your village by the bastard Kelsharlans before you were ready. It's only natural to want to go back to see it again and to leave it on your own terms."

  Lera nodded. "I can also see why it is important to you, Ordella, but I must balance everything against the safety of the people of Oakhaven." She ran her hand in a circle over her bump. "I can see how your request will benefit you, but I can also see how it may put our way of life here at risk."

  "I won't tell anyone about Oakhaven. I promise. I think of it as my home."

  "And I appreciate that, Ordella. But we have to consider all of the situations that may arise. What if you are captured by the Kelsharlans?" Lera raised an eyebrow. "Are you certain that you wouldn't give them our village in order to avoid going back to the Warren?"

  "I would never do that." How could she make Lera believe her? "I'll make sure I'm not captured. I'll go straight to my village and come straight back. I'll return within the month."

  "And what if you are followed? As skilled as you have become with a bow, you are still a novice when it comes to covering your tracks in the forest. With all the Kelsharlan patrols of late, you're bound to be spotted, and you'll lead them straight to us." Lera shook her head. "No. There are too many risks involved."

  Her chance of leaving was slipping away. She had to say something, and fast. But what? She was going to have to take a risk. Force Lera's hand.

  "If it wasn't for me, Flynn would be dead." She turned to him. He caught her eye then looked away.

  Ordella shifted her focus back to Lera.

  "I fetched Merisca when Krafe had given up on him. It's down to me that Merisca even had a chance to heal him."

  Lera swallowed, and Ordella pressed on.

  "It is down to me that your child,"—she pointed to Lera's belly—"will not be born without a father."

  Lera's pale face flushed and she cleared her throat, but Ordella didn't allow her a chance to speak. "How dare you question my loyalty to Oakhaven? How dare you? I was in the caves with Flynn and the others. I put an arrow through a rotclaw's eye to keep the village safe. I risked my own life to protect yours and everyone who calls Oakhaven their home."

  Ordella's whole body was trembling. She glared at Lera.

  "You owe me this."

  Eyes down, Lera smoothed the fabric of her tunic over her stomach. A few moments passed, then she looked up.

  "So be it," she said, her words clipped "You may go to Rittle, but we will expect you back before the first frost."

  Ordella let out a breath.

  "Thank you," she said as she turned around and strode straight towards the door. There was no point in giving Lera a chance to change her mind.

  "Be careful out there," Flynn said as she passed his chair. "And hurry back to us. Oakhaven needs people like you. And Jereth and Dorely will be insufferable until your return."

  Twenty-Three

  "You've got your spare bowstring?" Jereth said. "What about your knife? A whetstone?"

  Ordella reached over her shoulder and patted the pack on her back.

  "Jereth, I've got it all, right here. I've packed everything we spoke about. You don't need to worry."

  Jereth nodded. "And remember, avoid lighting fires. There are too many Kelsharlan patrols around. The smoked meat in your pack should last you for a good while, at least until you're nearing your village, and there'll still be some thornberries to be had in the forest."

  Ordella put her hand on Jereth's arm.

  "We've been through this. I promise you. I've listened to what you said. I'm not going to get into any trouble."

  Jereth removed a rolled piece of parchment from a pouch on his belt. He untied the black strip of material holding it together and stretched it out.

  It was a map, although much less detailed than the ones her father had carried with him.

  Ordella peered at it. The region at the top of the map had been labeled Kelsharla in scratchy black letters. She moved her eyes down. There was the city of Gilmar. Between these two points was a mass of roughly drawn trees, separated by lines which must have represented roads and rivers.

  "We're here." Jereth pointed to a tree with a tiny dot in the middle of it. "For obvious reasons, I haven't written Oakhaven's name or drawn it on the map." He traced his finger to the north-west. "I believe Rittle is somewhere around here. If you walk north, you'll soon reach the River Dern. Follow the path that runs along its bank until you come to the crossroads to the south of the village of Leet, or whatever still remains of it. Then bear west and the path should lead you to your village."

  He rerolled the map, fastened it and handed it to her.

  She slid the pack from her shoulders and slipped the map behind her water pouch and the sack of food rations.

  "I've got another thing for you," Jereth said, pulling a bundle of jet black material from his bag. He held it out in front of him.

  Ordella took it from him, lifted it up and shook it out. The folds unfurled, revealing a hooded cape, thick and warm, but surprisingly light.

  "It's beautiful, Jereth." She ran her hands through the fur's smooth fibers. "What's it from?"

  Jereth smiled. "I thought you'd recognize it straightaway," he said. "It's made from the pelt of a rotclaw. The one you killed."

  Her hand stopped. "Thank you," she said.

  "It might be too warm to wear right now, but you'll appreciate it at night, especially now the days are getting shorter."

  Jereth put his hand on her arm. "As you've discovered, rotclaws are tenacious hunters, but they are also pragmatic and shrewd. I think the cloak will suit you well."

  She folded the cloak over on itself then squeezed it into her bag.

  "You're almost ready, Ordella. You're just missing one thing."

  "I don't think I've any room left in my pack," she said, hoisting it back up onto her shoulders.

  "This is something you won't be able to leave Oakhaven without." He turned around and glanced into the forest.

  "Dorely, you can come out now."

  With a full pack on his back, a stout walking staff in one hand and his bow in the other, Hob emerged from behind the gnarled trunk of an old sanctuary oak.

  Jereth turned back to Ordella. "As soon as he heard you were leaving, he was set on joining you. It was more than I could do to stop him."

  "I hope you don't mind," Hob said. His eyes were bright like an expectant puppy at the foot of the table.

  "Of course I don't mind," she said. "I was going to ask you, but I didn't think you'd want
to leave here."

  "I wish I could accompany you too, Ordella," Jereth said. "But I am needed in Oakhaven." He ruffled Hob's hair. "However, I will feel better about you leaving knowing that this one is at your side. Dorely knows the paths around the village better than most."

  Ordella nodded, remembering how he and Much had led them through the forest when they'd first met.

  "If you are spotted by any Kelsharlans near the village," Jereth continued, "let him lead the way. He knows the location of all the Ends. Use them if you must."

  Jereth reached over and straightened the straps of her pack. "I promised Flynn I'd have you leave by Mustall Gate. There are a few people who want to say their goodbyes."

  The sound of chattering voices and laughter filtered through the leaves and branches. Ordella and Hob emerged onto Oakhaven's main path and were greeted by a crowd of people. The whole village appeared to be lining the track as it wound its way through the sanctuary oaks.

  The talking stopped when the villagers noticed them. Then the people started to clap their hands and shout words of encouragement and best wishes.

  Ordella scanned the smiling faces.

  Garvan winked at her. Little Brya rode his shoulders, her grass-stained legs dangling down over his chest. His wife, Rowan, stood at his side.

  "Keep safe," he said. "And come back soon."

  Farther towards the gate, Much was in the middle of a gaggle of boys. The others had broad grins across their faces and were jostling each other and larking about, but Much wasn't joining in.

  She caught his eye, but the boy turned away. What on all Ellusia was his problem? She could understand him being upset that his friend was leaving, but surely he could hide his feelings until they'd gone. She ran her hand through her hair. Perhaps he was jealous and felt like she was stealing Hob away from him. Ordella chewed on her lip. If that was the case, she'd speak to him when they returned. Make him understand that Hob could be friends with both of them.

  Mustall Gate wasn't really a gate at all. It consisted of two thick wooden posts standing on either side of the path. They were as tall as a grown man and, at a glance, looked like branch-less tree trunks.

  Merisca, Lera, and Flynn stood between the posts, blocking the path. The pale haired woman had one arm around her husband and her other hand was draped across her pregnant belly.

  Ordella and Hob walked towards them. Ordella tried hard not to catch Lera's eye. They were still in Oakhaven. There was still time for Lera to change her mind and stop her leaving.

  Merisca wrapped her arms around Ordella, hugging her tightly.

  "I hope you find what you're looking for." She rested her head on Ordella's shoulder. "I'm just sorry I won't be joining you." She let go and took a step back, dabbing at her eyes with her fingers. "Gwenith would be so proud of you."

  Ordella sniffed and blinked back tears of her own.

  Merisca turned to Hob.

  "And you," she said. "You'd better take care of her. I'm relying on you to keep her safe."

  He drew himself up to his full height.

  "I'll do my best."

  "I know you will," Merisca said.

  Ordella smoothed her tunic and gripped her bow tightly. She looked at Hob.

  "Ready?" she said.

  He nodded.

  Merisca, Lera, and Flynn moved to the side. In front of her, the path curled its way through the forest, meandering past beech trees, sanctuary oaks, and white-trunked silver birch until it disappeared from view.

  Flynn clapped them on their backs forcing them to stumble forward.

  "Go on then," he bellowed. "Be off with you."

  With Flynn's booming laughter ringing in her ears and Hob by her side, Ordella took her first steps away from Oakhaven.

  The villagers started to cheer again, but Ordella hardly noticed.

  The morning sun streamed through the trees, bathing the path in golden light. With each stride, Ordella's body seemed lighter, as if a giant weight was finally being lifted from her shoulders.

  Twenty-Four

  Ordella sat on the forest floor next to Hob and tilted her head back. High above her, the canopy of tree branches teemed with small birds, flitting from twig to twig. The late afternoon sun trickled through the gaps in the leaves, warming her face.

  She turned to Hob. "How close do you think we are to the river?"

  Hob spat out the pips of a thornberry. Its juice had stained his tongue and lips bright red.

  "We're near," he said. "We'll easily be there before evening."

  "Good." She stood up, hoisted her pack onto her shoulders and picked up her bow. "Ready to move?"

  Hob nodded, popped another thornberry into his mouth and heaved himself to his feet. He brushed his tunic clean of dust and leaves, grabbed his bag and his bow, then he carefully repositioned the quiver of arrows so that they slung to the right of his body.

  "Come on!" she said. "You've—"

  A snap from behind her cut through the sounds of the forest. Ordella shuddered and spun around, drawing an arrow and nocking it to her bowstring in the same motion. She scanned the undergrowth.

  "What was that?" she whispered, beckoning Hob over then pointing into the trees. "Did you hear it? It came from in there."

  She held her breath and waited. Her bow arm thrummed with every pounding heartbeat. She took a deep breath and moved her bow slowly from side to side. Nothing. The undergrowth didn't even twitch.

  Ordella stepped into the trees, kicking through the bracken that had grown up between a pair of ash trees. She turned to Hob.

  "There's nothing there now," he said. "It must have been an animal. Perhaps a fox or a badger."

  Ordella shook her head.

  "It was too loud to have been made by an animal. And too clumsy. Unless they're running scared, animals don't make noises like that when they move through the trees.” She chewed her lip and turned back to where she'd heard the sound, peering into the foliage.

  Hob stood next to her.

  "Let's go." He put his hand on her arm. "Who knows what it was," he said. "But it's gone now. We're not going to find it." He tugged her in the direction of the path. "If we get moving soon, we'll be on the banks of the Dern before we lose the sun."

  *****

  Ordella bent down and trailed her fingertips across the river's murky surface. It was very different from the stream she'd followed with Merisca the day after they'd escaped from the Warren. The Dern was much wider, and its cloudy, slow-moving water glowed moss-green in the dwindling twilight. Its channel looped from side to side in broad sweeps as it curved its way across the forest floor, an eel twisting and turning through a tangle of reeds.

  They trudged along its banks, following the traces of an old path. In some places the track was clear, but in others, the packed-earth was almost completely smothered by nettles and dock and clumps of inkwort.

  Ordella pictured the map she had stowed in her pack. Once this route would've been well-trodden, bustling with merchant carts and craftsmen, farmers and tinkers. But those days were gone. Soldiers no longer protected the Border Wood's villages, and Gilmar's northern gate had been barred to those seeking help and shelter.

  She scuffed at the dirt beneath her feet. Soon the plants and trees would cover the path, reclaiming it for the forest, and obliterating any trace of its existence. Just another faded line on a crumbling piece of parchment.

  Ordella cast her eyes over the river. Lilypads floated on the greenish water, drifting in the direction in which she and Hob were walking.

  Had her father ever traveled this way? Surely he must have done when he was out hunting or when he was tracking the Kelsharlans. She pictured him dressed in his soldier's uniform, the Gilmarian white raven emblazoned on his chest.

  Della, he would have shouted if he'd spotted her. She could almost feel his strong arms squeezing her tightly, just as he used to when she was a young girl.

  She swallowed and reached for the pendant hanging around her neck. If only her
father could tell her where to look, or at least give her a clue to let her know she was heading in the right direction.

  Hob reached back and placed his hand on her arm.

  "Stop," he said. "There's something up ahead."

  She narrowed her eyes and surveyed the forest and riverbank on the other side of the Dern.

  Hob's hand pushed her down. "I just saw something move. On the opposite bank. Where the river starts to bend."

  She peeked between hairy nettle stalks and the glossy leaves of a barronburr. Two men, Kelsharlan by their dark green tunics, were standing in the shadow of an alder tree, taking sips from their water pouches. They were deep in conversation and seemed to have no idea they were being watched. Ordella strained her ears, trying to block out the sounds of the forest.

  "I can't hear what they're saying," she said, covering her mouth with her hand.

  Hob pointed to the forest.

  "Let's get closer.

  They moved backward on hands and knees, crawling off the overgrown path and into the trees that surrounded it. When they were concealed by the undergrowth, they stood up and picked their way through the woods, keeping the river to their right.

  Hob beckoned for her to stop, and Ordella turned her head towards the river. She couldn't make out the soldiers through the trees, but now that she wasn't moving, their words were clear and easy to follow.

  "We must be just about level with them," Hob said. "Let's see if we can get a better look."

  They crept out of the trees, keeping their bodies close to the damp ground. The path in front of them was overgrown and offered plenty of cover. Inching her head up, Ordella peered at the men across the water. They were definitely Kelsharlan. She'd recognize that coat of arms anywhere. With its crown motif, it was the same one worn by the soldiers Jereth had shot down, and a variation of it adorned the chests of Timmen, Billy and Riggett back in the Warren.

  The men had remained under the trees that fringed the path on the far bank of the Dern. They seemed relaxed, talking in bursts between sips from their waterskins and bites from a loaf wrapped in a cloth that they passed between them.