Out of the Faold (Whilst Old Legends Fade Synchronicles) (8 page)

“Girls, change out of your robes,” she told them to their surprise. “Krisa, find the stable and have the horses prepared. We will be leaving.”

She went down to speak to the innkeeper. Quietly she paid for the extra day and the care of the horses. She asked
if there had been any other messages for her or if he could get one to Captain Doran at the Keep. He shook his head and looked toward the door. No one was there but she knew on the
other side of it were Brothers.

She was a Brother. Why did she feel the need to avoid them? Krisa’s irritation and paranoia was simply wearing off on her and she was being unreasonable. But she didn’t want to subject the girls to the restrictions she felt Brother Fen was about to impose on them. Over the last few days she’d been more and more torn about her task in taking them to be Sisters in the end.
While she knew she must,
she began to feel deep regret. They were such free spirits, kind, lovely girls. A life in seclusion would be tragic.

She decided to take a chance and trust the man. In a low voice she told him, “We a
re going to be leaving Cobarn
.”

He looked at her in a different way, like he realized she may not entirely be one of them. “Yes?”

“
Do you have someone who could drive us? I’m not familiar with the streets. I could pay them for their trouble.”

“Yes, Brother, I do. They haven’t ordered you to stay, have they? I won’t put myself in poor esteem with the Brothers.”

“Not at all,” she denie
d.

“I’ll send Mishell up to your room when the driver has come. It won’t be long.”

Back in the room Glory and Pearl sat on the edge of the bed in civilian clothes. Pearl’s torn, filthy clothes had been discarded long ago so she
put on
one of Glory’s more demure dresses. She looked even more uncomfortable than sh
e had in the pale yellow robes commenting she itched all over like when her previous bed mates had fleas.
Glory couldn’t resist putting on her blue frilly dress saying Captain Doran would like it. Krisa had returned to the window, dressed in dark pants and the brown sweater she had worn back in
Brynntown
.

“We need to get word to the Marshalls,” Brother Karl said absently, packing up her things.
“If they find us gone they will worry.”

“I will do it,” Krisa tol
d her, turning from the window.

“No, I need you girls with me.”

“Brother Karl,” Krisa told her. “I know how. My papa used to say I could sneak through a den of bears, kiss one on the nose and be out before they smelled me.”

The girls giggled at the imagery but Karl frowned. “They don’t allow little girls to walk into the Keep for a consultation.”

“
I can go now and be back before we leave. I know how. I will get word to Captain Doran, I promise.”

After long moments of consideration and a silent prayer Karl nodded twice. “Don’t let the Brothers see you, please.”

The three of them sat waiting. They waited for so long Brother Karl knew that at any moment there would be a Brother downstairs to take them to the Sanctuary. They waited for Mishell to come, they waited for a message from Doran,
and they
waited most of all for Krisa. She couldn’t leave the gir
l behind under any circumstance
.

Krisa confidently moved up the alley that led from the stables to the road beside the inn. She managed to cross several streets, slipped into shop doorways to watch
then scurried
across from
the wall around the keep.
None of the Brothers watching the inn recognized her or paid any attention.
She
watched the pattern of the guards in the towers and atop the wall for sever
al minutes.

It was easy enough to get in the main gates amid the numbers of people going in and out. Krisa hid in the stable among sleek black horses until the boy
tending them turned for a rake, giving her an opportunity to pull herself up onto the flimsy slatted roof over the horses. She climbed up and over onto the stone roof of the Keep’s kitchens, hearing the staff under her through the vents used for steam and smoke. It sloped gently down to the rotting refuse pit where they’d toss out the unused was
te of the day.

Above was a slit window, too far out of reach, and in the sights of a guard on the eastern wall. She removed her boots, tying them to her belt. She breathed slowly, watching the guard over her shoulder until he took his last step and spun to walk the other way. Sh
e had only eight
seconds before he’d turn to
look back, which he always did, before continuing on. In her bare feet, with nothing but
her strength she pulled herself up the wall made of stone and logs to the lip of the window. With a great heave she caught her knee on the sill and slid up to a standing position, squeezing her bones into the opening. Eight seconds. He turned. He turned back again.
It was a tight fit but she was slender and tall. With her head turned to the side she pushed herself through into a dim corridor lit only by three of those slit windows. She softly jogged to the end of the hall. A servants’ stair entrance stood ajar. Inside she could hear housekeeping staff way down below as their voices carried up. Within ten minutes she’d learned that the Marshalls were staying another
flight up in the east corridor.

While there were no guards posted in that hallway there were people coming and going constantly. It held the living quarters for all residents. When maids entered a room to clean it took twelve minutes to change bedding, empty and clean chamber pots, straighten up furniture, have clothing gathered for laundering and fill wash basins. Krisa watched from a recess in the wall, pressed back into the shadows. The maid had two more rooms to clean, so one must be the Marshalls’. A door opened directly across from Krisa.
Stennor,
one of the
scout
s
walked out, scanned the hallway then closed the door. Krisa smiled as he walked away. She’d have to remember to rib him for
being a Marshall scout yet
not seeing her sta
nding directly in front of him.

Their room was next for the maid. Krisa left the shadow of the niche. She casually stepped to the door facing her, pressing herself against the stone as someone up the hall did a double-take not sure if they saw something move. He didn’t, he reasoned, and kept walking. The door
creaked softly as it opened. S
he slipped in. There was just enough room for her bet
ween the wardrobe and the wall so that’s where she hid
when the maid ca
me in. The portly woman shook out the blankets, banged on the pillows, dumped ashes from pipes into a bowl, picked up all the pieces of clothing the men had left on beds or chairs and hung them in the wardrobe. A jacket, one of the Marshall’s jackets, hung on the back of a chair. She brushed off the shoulders but left it there. Into the
adjoining room
the woman walked. Krisa waited until she heard the door close
to emerge
. There, no problem.

The sounds of patrons
and dishes and the smell of food were strong on the air, telling Karl that the evening meal was being served in the dining room. They had been waiting a few hours she guessed when they finally
received
a knock on the door. She said a quick prayer that it was Krisa. Though, when she opened the door it was Mishell. The girl curtsied and waited for them.

“Our drive is here. Where is Krisa?” she demanded to no one in particular. She gathered their bags and ushered the girls out into the hallway. Mishell led them down but instead of through the dining
room she led them
past
the kitchens, out into the cooler a
ir at the back of the inn. S
tables and storage barns surrounded a small courtyard where their cart stood, along with their second horse. A driver sat atop the cart and Krisa sat on the horse, smiling br
oadly.

Relief flooded through Brother Karl and she almost sobbed, her worry being for nothing. The driver seemed bored waiting for them all to find spots. The other two girls sat in the back and she rode next to him.
It was slow going but eventually they moved out onto a street
that avoided the front of the inn. They drew no attention and Krisa seemed happy, scanning the people around them, glancing in the direction of the Keep often. The driver remained quiet and took less populace roads until they reached the last stretch of houses that then stretched out into
a fine orchard on either side.

He pulled the cart to a stop and handed the
reins
to Brother Karl, who thanked him and paid him generously. He hopped down and with a bow started his walk back to the city. Karl smiled at the girls and called out, “No ugly yellow robes and dungeons tonight, girls.”

They cheered as she shook the reigns and they were off again, rumbling along the road. It wasn’t too long before she realized they’d need to stop
soon to find a place to camp. T
hey’d felt a great sense of security having the Marshalls with them the last several nights. Though the city was far behind
there were still lights at farmhouses nearby and she didn’t feel right about squatting on a lord’s land without
permission.

“Did you get word to them?” Brother Karl asked Krisa, who nodded triumphantly. “Thank you. At least they won’t expect us.”

“I wasn’t told when they are leaving,” Krisa told her. “Pat didn’t know.”

“We will just carry on,” Karl said. Pat, the young scout, could be trusted to tell the Captain. She was thankful for their help but she and the girls would h
ave to fend for themselves now.

Soon, just before the sun set, Karl found a copse of trees off the road. They shared the
bed of the wagon, eating bread and dried meats they’d brought and then the girls fell asleep under the stars. Karl lay listening to their breathing as she tried to piece together the events of the day. She prayed for guidance, she prayed for their safety and clarity of thought. She also prayed Amias Doran would find them on the road in the morning and escort them north. She made a pact with the gods. She would forego a real bed for the remainder of the trip if she could simply place her bedroll next to his.
She imagined him lying behind her, the security of him, as she drifted off to sleep.

The sun rose and there was no sign of the men. Krisa had climbed a tree
to watch
the road south for their appearance. She waited a long time. Glory announced she found some berries so she and Karl picked while Pearl brushed the horses, fed them and generally found things to do. She gathered wood for a fire in case Karl deci
ded to stay in the spot longer.

“Do you think they will just leave us?” Pearl asked.

“We left them,” Krisa
reminded her
.

“It just didn’t …” Karl began.

“…feel
right,” Krisa finished for her.

The woman nodded at Kris
a, who smiled at her knowingly.

“I am so glad to be out of that robe!” Glory declared, scratching at
the memory of the itchy fabric.

“I hope we see them again,” Pearl told them, looking up the road. “But Brother Karl even if we don’t have the Marshalls you
are
good too. For a Brother.”

The girls giggled at Pearl, who blushed, but then she grinned at Karl. Karl tossed a small apple at the girl in revenge.

By mid-day it was obvious they would be traveling alone so Karl packed everyone back up and called Krisa down from the tree and they started out again.
She had to stop day dreaming. She was a Brother of the Faold, not some eligible floozy batting her eyes at any man in uniform. Karl needed to get her priorities in place for the girls’ sake. She
had to get them to Mount Sestra.

Even after lecturing herself about concentrating on her goal, t
hey traveled slower than they could have. They stopped often to relieve themselves, talk to others passing on the road moving in the opposite direction and simply took their time. Karl knew the girls expected to see the Marshalls riding along behind them but she’d begun
to
resign herself
to the fact that they had their orders and they didn’t include taking care of a fo
olish woman and three children.

The evening was long. There were no stories or pipe smoke, no men’s deep voices talking to one another or to the girls, no snores as they slept. The girls went to bed pouting and so did Karl.

On their second morning alone, they got up and started their routine of getting ready to move out. Krisa watched the road intently while the others packed up. A flash of orange light caught Karl’s attention
from
a small
,
tree covered hill in the middle of a field. A blue twinkle shone at her from the spot she thought she’d seen the orange. It appeared to
be coming from among the trees.