Slave's Gamble

by Jay Stonesmith

  Lord Skerrick was there in a heartbeat. His sword rose up and then crashed down in a savage swipe, hacking down into Merisca's shoulder and across her chest. She shrieked but somehow managed to remain standing. Transferring the arrow to her other hand, she cocked back her arm. With a grunt, she flung it overarm, high into the air, towards Ordella.

  Skerrick moved in for the kill. He leaned down from his saddle and thrust his sword forward. The blade punctured Merisca's back, and the tip protruded from her belly.

  Ordella screamed but kept her eyes focused on the path of the arrow as it tumbled through the air. She shuffled to her right, ignoring the stabs of pain shooting through her leg, and snagged the arrow by its shaft with her right hand.

  She hobbled closer. Without pausing, she placed the arrow on her bowstring and narrowed her eyes at the target.

  A look of horror passed over Skerick's features. He tried to turn his horse around, but Ordella was too quick. The arrow flew from her bowstring, straight and true, striking him just under his chin. This time, the arrow didn't bounce off. It buried into his flesh, forcing his head back.

  Skerrick dropped his sword and let out a gurgling cry, but he didn't fall from his horse. He kicked with his legs, and his steed reared up and spun around. He kicked again. The horse leaped into a run and carried Skerrick, slumped forwards in the saddle, deeper into the forest.

  Ordella tracked his progress until he'd ridden out of sight. A dead man making his final journey across the land of the living.

  She dropped her bow and balled her hands into fists. If there was any justice in the world, his last moments on Ellusia would be filled with agony and despair.

  She put her hands to her face and rubbed her eyes. She'd expected it to feel different, like a weight being lifted from her shoulders. But she couldn't detect any change at all. The ache in her stomach when she pictured her grandmother dying on the Warren's tiles hadn't lessened in the slightest.

  It wasn't fair. She'd just put an arrow through the neck of Lord Skerrick, the very man who had ordered her grandmother's execution. Surely that should've alleviated some of her grief and some of her guilt. Even just for a short while.

  Ordella glanced over at Merisca. She lay on her back. Her wounds had doused the forest floor around her in a crimson dew and darkened the purple of her Kelsharlan tunic. Ordella choked back tears and slumped down next to her friend.

  Why was Merisca dressed in such a way? The Islander's chest rose and fell. Had Lera's first instincts been right all along? Had Merisca betrayed them all?

  "Help me to sit up, Ordella," Merisca said. Her voice was little more than a whisper. She stretched out her hand. "There are things I must tell you before it's too late."

  Thirty-Eight

  Ordella gripped Merisca's hands. She dragged the Islander closer, then pulled her up until she was resting against her.

  "Thank you," Merisca said. Her voice was now thin and rasping. Ordella put her hand on Merisca's bloodstained tunic and glanced down at her wounds. The Islander's hand was pressed against her gut, and blood seeped between her fingers. Ordella swallowed. There'd be no walking away from something like that. Merisca was going to die where she lay.

  Ordella's mind churned like a roiling sea. Questions and thoughts crashed into each other and then were dragged away before she could grasp hold of them.

  By throwing the arrow, Merisca had, at the cost of her own life, saved her from Skerrick's blade. But why had she been at his side in the first place? Ordella clasped Merisca's purple tunic. Why did she wear the colors of Kelsharla and have the Kelsharlan crown emblazoned across her chest?

  "I need to know the truth," Ordella said. "Did you really betray the people of Oakhaven?" She paused, and her hand went to the pendant hanging around her neck. "Did you lie to me again?"

  "Ordella, you must believe me. I can explain, but I don't have long." Merisca pressed down harder on her stomach. "I know you are angry and confused, but you must promise to let me speak."

  Ordella took a breath. "I promise."

  "He was waiting for me," Merisca said. "When I woke up on the other side of the Warren's walls, Lord Skerrick was standing before me. He sliced open the sack and dragged me to my feet. I thought he was going to kill me, but he put his knife away and instead held up a leather bag he was carrying. He reached into it and pulled out a severed head. It was Little Jane's."

  Ordella breathed in sharply, but Merisca continued.

  "He held the head up by her hair. Told me if I didn't do what he asked of me, I would suffer the same fate, as would all the others in our Hutch."

  "What did he—"

  Merisca lifted her hand. "He wanted the location of Oakhaven, although at the time he didn't know its name." Merisca paused. Her breathing slowed and for a moment Ordella doubted the Islander would have the strength to continue. Then Merisca coughed and swallowed.

  "He ordered me to head into the forest." Merisca's voice was now little more than a whisper, and Ordella leaned in closer.

  "He said that in time the people of Oakhaven would find me and that I must convince them to take me to their village. His scouts were tracking me, and I'd lead them straight there."

  Ordella chewed her lip. "But you didn't head into the forest straight away. You rescued me first."

  "Yes," the Islander said. "I'd promised Gwenith I'd protect you. Before I left, I had to find out if you’d survived."

  "But the people following you? How did you—"

  Merisca made a gurgling noise that might have been a laugh. "I thought you were going to let me speak."

  "Carry on," Ordella said.

  "I took a risk. I didn't think the scouts would come out of hiding in front of the men driving the cart. Besides, if they confronted me, I was going to tell them that the villagers were more likely to take me in if I was accompanied by a child."

  Ordella sniffed. She was nearly sixteen years old. Hardly a child. She narrowed her eyes. Something about the story didn't make sense.

  "You knew what was going to happen to Oakhaven, yet you still led me there? You could have sent me away at any time, but you chose to keep me with you." She rubbed her head. "Is that why you waited until we'd reached the village to give me the pendant? Did you think there was a risk I'd leave before I'd served my purpose?"

  Ordella didn't wait for a reply.

  "You used me, you—"

  "I saved you, Ordella," Merisca said. "I saved you. Then by making sure we reached Oakhaven, I saved the lives of all of the women living in our Hutch. When you left with Hob for Rittle, I thought you'd be safe. I didn't know you were going to return to Oakhaven so soon. You should have been to the west, well away from the fighting."

  "By going along with Skerrick's plan," Ordella said, "you might have saved the women in the Hutch, but you passed a sentence of death over the people of Oakhaven. Their blood is on your hands."

  "What was I supposed to do?" Merisca said. "What would you have done differently in my place?" Merisca coughed again. "The women in the Hutch were defenseless. At least the people of Oakhaven were prepared for an attack and had the means to fight back."

  Ordella flicked her eyes over to the battlefield. From down on the ground it was hard to gauge which side had the upper hand.

  She put her hand on Merisca's forehead. The Islander's skin was clammy and as pale as she'd ever seen it. Her eyes closed.

  "Merisca," Ordella said. She had to know the truth. "You've told me why Oakhaven was attacked, but why were you with the Kelsharlans? Why are you dressed like them?"

  Merisca's eyelids opened slowly. "Last week, when I was out collecting bunches of black-leafed sorrel," she said, "I was set upon by a pair of Kelsharlan scouts." She breathed in and coughed. "They wanted to know about Oakhaven. Details about its structures. Its weaknesses."

  "So you told them?" Ordella couldn't keep the barbs from her voice. "You told them everything?"

  Merisca shook her head. "No. I told them as little as I could. But I didn
't know how much they knew already, so I had to give them something." She raised her hand to her face and gripped the tip of one of her glove's fingers with her teeth. She pulled the glove off and spat it to the ground.

  Ordella gasped. Merisca's nails were gone, ripped from her hands. The ends of her fingers were raw, her nailbeds torn and weeping.

  Merisca let her hand fall to her side. "I held out for as long as possible." She drew a breath. "After that, Skerrick said I was to accompany him to the village to witness the destruction I'd helped wreak."

  A horn blast sounded from the battlefield. Ordella turned her head. The Kelsharlan soldiers had broken ranks and were bolting into the trees.

  "Let them go!" Fellbrig's voice carried across the valley. "Don't pursue them. It might be a trap."

  Ordella turned back to Merisca.

  "The Kelsharlans are retreating," she said.

  Merisca's lips curled into a smile.

  "And Lera?" she said. "And the child?"

  Ordella shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't seen them. I suppose they remained in the cave."

  "Please don't tell them what I did," Merisca said. She put her nail-less hand on top of Ordella's. "In time, I believe you will understand the choices I had to make, but I don't think they ever will. Tell them I fled. I'd rather them think me a coward than a traitor."

  "I won't say a word," Ordella said. The back of her throat ached, and she blinked back tears.

  Merisca squeezed Ordella's hand tighter. "Thank you for allowing me to take the Slave's Gamble with you. It was an honor to know you, Ordella." Her voice was failing. "With Skerrick gone you have avenged your grandmother's death, but unless you live your life to the fullest and discover your father's fate, her sacrifice was in vain. When I die, there will be nothing that links you to the Warren. Shrug off that part of your life. Never forget it, but live out the rest of your days as if you've always been free. You are one of the lucky ones. You took the Slave's Gamble and won."

  Ordella stroked Merisca's dark curls. The Islander's eyes closed then snapped opened again.

  "I can hear the sea," Merisca said. "I'm nearly home. Please stay with me to the end."

  "Of course." Ordella squeezed her friend's hand "Of course I will."

  Merisca breathed out and closed her eyes again.

  "Make sure your wound is treated with cutweed," she said.

  Ordella smiled and glanced down at her shin. "I will."

  Merisca turned her head to the side, her face pressed against Ordella's shoulder. She relaxed the hand pushing down on the puncture wound to her stomach, and a long breath escaped her lips. Then she was still.

  "Goodbye, my friend," Ordella said.

  She eased Merisca's body onto the ground and positioned her arms over her chest.

  The helmet Merisca had been wearing was a few yards from where she sat, discarded after she’d used it to strike the Kelsharlan soldier. His body was sprawled beside the helmet. His face was covered in blood and he didn't appear to be moving.

  Ordella scanned the battlefield. Some of the surviving Gilmarian soldiers and Oakhaven's villagers were huddled in groups, and others walked among the fallen. None of them appeared to be heading in her direction, but it would only be a matter of time. She'd have to work fast if she was going to hide Merisca's identity before someone spotted her.

  On her hands and knees, Ordella shuffled over to the helmet. It was much heavier than she'd anticipated, and it was cumbersome, too. Not wanting to attempt to crawl back with it, Ordella sat up, gripped the helmet in her right hand and pitched it towards Merisca's body. It landed a few steps in front of her and rolled forwards, landing against the Islander's feet.

  Ordella slid the helmet onto Merisca's head. She tucked in the stray strands of curly hair and buckled the chinstrap tight. She paused, then tied the strap's ends into a double knot. Perhaps whoever found the body wouldn't go to the trouble of prising it open.

  If it was recovered by someone who knew her and the helmet was removed, they'd recognize her in an instant, but there was nothing more she could do. Hopefully, it would be one of Fellbrig's soldiers who found her.

  A man headed towards her from the middle of the battlefield, a familiar deeply curved bow clasped in his left hand.

  "Ordella?" he said. "Ordella is that you?"

  She stood up, turning her back on Merisca's corpse.

  Jereth broke into a run, and Ordella hobbled forwards to meet him. He dropped the bow, wrapped his strong arms around her and squeezed her to him, lifting her off her feet.

  Thirty-Nine

  Ordella opened her eyes and tilted her head back.

  Above her, swathes of purple material had been stretched taught over a wooden framework. A lantern, suspended on a rope slung across one of the beams, cast an orangey glow over rows of people lying on wooden bunks and on blankets on the floor. The sounds of their breathing filled her ears. For a fleeting moment, it was as if she was back in the Hutch.

  She yawned and blinked. Her leg throbbed.

  Her mouth was parched, and a thick layer of mucus coated her tongue. She coughed.

  Something stirred in one of the room's shadowy corners. A crouching figure she hadn't previously noticed turned its head in her direction.

  "Ordella, you're awake." It was a man's voice.

  He walked towards her.

  "How's your leg feeling?"

  The lantern's light glinted off the man's balding head. His tunic was splotched with dried blood, and his face was pale and puffy.

  "Krafe," she said. It was more of a croak than a fully formed word. "Water."

  The healer nodded and stepped back to the corner. He returned with a full mug.

  Ordella snatched it from him and drained it in one gulp.

  "Better?" he said.

  Ordella nodded.

  "And the leg?"

  "It aches, but it's nothing like before."

  "Good," Krafe said. He touched her forehead. "You're still feverish, but that's to be expected." He withdrew his hand. "I have extracted the bolt and patched the wound."

  "Cutweed," Ordella said. "Have you used cutweed?"

  Krafe stared at her, his eyes narrow. She was certain she was pronouncing it as Merisca had. Surely he'd heard of it.

  "It's used for treating wounds," she said.

  "I know very well what it's for," Krafe said. "And that's why I applied a poultice of it to your shin when you were brought to me yesterday." He raised his eyebrow. "I didn't know you were versed in herb lore."

  Ordella glanced down. "Traveling with Merisca, you can't help but pick up a few things here and there."

  "Quite," he said. "Despite her many flaws, even I must concede she was very knowledgeable."

  Was. He'd spoken of her as if she was no longer here. Ordella bit her lip. Had her body been found and identified, or was he just referring to the fact that she'd left Oakhaven?

  "What is it, Ordella?"

  She couldn't ask him what he knew.

  "It's just the pain," she said.

  "I'll fix you a draught." He took a step towards the corner, then he stopped and turned to face her.

  "I haven't thanked you yet, Ordella." He reached for her hand and clutched it in his. "Dorely told me that it was down to you that the Gilmarians came to our aid." He paused. "We all owe you a debt of gratitude. Thank you for not abandoning us."

  Ordella nodded. His words had been heartfelt and deserved a response, but his mention of Hob's name was all she could focus on. He was alive! If he'd spoken to Krafe, he must’ve survived the fighting.

  "Thank you," she said. "But it wasn't just me." She took a breath. "Now, tell me about Dorely. When did you last see him?"

  Krafe rolled his eyes. "It would be easier for me to describe the moments when he wasn't here. He only left your side this morning because Jereth told him he had to eat. I'm sure he'll be back soon. I think he's using this tent as a refuge from his admirers."

  Ordella wrinkled her brow. "His what?"r />
  "Oh, of course, you haven't heard. Well, I'm not going to steal his thunder. I'll let him tell his own tale. He should be pretty good at it by now." Krafe laughed then headed towards his workstation. "Now, let me fetch you something for the pain."

  *****

  Krafe held open the tent's door flap and ushered Hob through.

  "Don't keep her talking for too long. She needs her rest."

  Hob stepped closer. He was still wearing the same clothes he'd been in the last time she'd seen him, but something about him was different. He somehow seemed taller and stood up straighter than he had before. The plump boy she'd first met in the meadow was gone.

  He walked into the lantern's glow. A savage slash ran from his temple down to his cheek. It had been stitched closed, but it still looked puffy and raw. Ordella gasped.

  "This?" he said, touching the wound. "It's nothing." He smiled at her. "I'll tell you my story in a moment, but now that you're finally awake, tell me about you. How are you feeling?"

  Ordella drew the blanket from her bandaged shin.

  "I think I'm on the mend," she said. "Thanks to Krafe."

  The healer had headed over to his corner and was busying himself mixing something in a pot.

  "Well, I'm pleased," Hob said. "When you didn't follow me into the cave, I thought the worst had happened." He glanced up at her. "I thought you were—"

  "When I couldn't see you on the battlefield, I feared the same about you," she said. "It seems we were both lucky."

  Hob nodded. "But so many others weren't so fortunate. Much took a crossbow bolt to his chest. He didn't make it. Neither did Tal or Pip, and only a handful of Fellbrig's soldiers survived." He gestured to the people sleeping on the opposite side of the tent, "And another couple of them are in a really bad way."

  “I’m sorry about Much,” she said. “I know you were close. I don’t think he liked me very much, but I was going to speak to him when we got back. Find out what was wrong.” Ordella wiped her brow with the back of her hand. “He was so young.”

  "It’s how he would’ve wanted to die. He always fancied himself a great warrior, and he fell protecting his home with a bow in his hand. He’s been laid to rest inside the caves along with the rest of Oakhaven's fallen. The tunnel is to be re-sealed tomorrow."