‘We’re headed for a township called Flat Meadows and then on to Axon.’
‘Oh, that’s by the Great Forest. People are scared of the forest.’
‘Scared?’
‘Well, respectful is probably a better way to put it. It houses ancient mysteries. I believe what I can see with my own strange eyes.’
They both laughed when she deliberately made them go cross-eyed.
‘And you, Yseul, where is home for you?’
‘It’s been so long, I’m not sure where to call home.’
He understood. ‘Then come with me. If you have nowhere to call home, you might as well travel with friends.’
She considered it and then smiled sadly. ‘It is very tempting,’ she said, then she leaned towards Gidyon and kissed him very briefly, very gently. ‘But this little boy here needs to know a real home. He needs a real mother and father who will love him. I think I must take him back to where he belongs.’
Again Gidyon understood, though he felt a flash of disappointment. ‘Where is that?’
‘Brittelbury. It is a week or more from here due east but we can journey slowly.’
Just then, as if by magic, they heard the sound of hooves. Several horses, obviously still spooked from the fire, had stuck together and were wandering in shock.
‘Not on a horse it won’t be,’ Gidyon said, winking. ‘Help me catch them.’
‘Slowly,’ she cautioned. ‘They will be fearful.’
Somehow Gidyon sensed they would not be afraid of him. He did not know how he knew this, but he proved himself true when he gently called to them and was able to keep them calm and still whilst he approached. Of course he could not know that this way with animals was a talent inherited from his mother. A few minutes later, the horses were happily munching grass next to them.
‘What about saddles?’ Gidyon said.
‘I used to ride bareback all the time as a child. I’m sure it will come back to me.’
He left her to squat down next to Figgis and ransack his pockets. He looked pleased when he returned. ‘You have this,’ he said, tipping a heavy pouch of coins into her hand.
Yseul peeped inside and then tipped a few out. ‘No, Gidyon, this is a fortune to someone like me.’
‘Trust me, he would want you to keep it and travel safely with your brother to your home. Is there enough for a saddle for each of you?’
‘You don’t know?’ she asked incredulously. ‘Gidyon, we could live more than well on this for several weeks. We could buy ten saddles and perhaps a few horses to go with them!’
‘Then I am glad. You both deserve it.’ He flipped a single gold coin into the air. ‘This will see us through. Promise me that you will stay at inns and be safe. Eat properly. Take the horses and sell them if you please when you get home. Just be careful.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘There is nothing more. I wish you would come with me, but I understand why you cannot.’
‘I wish I could too,’ she said.
He kissed her. It was the first time he had ever really kissed anyone properly. It was magnificent and he wanted it to go on and on.
‘Are you sure we have to say goodbye?’ he said when they reluctantly moved apart.
‘You know the village where I live. Come and see me.’
He nodded. ‘I will.’
She looked at him intently. ‘No, you won’t, Gidyon. There is no reason why you should. You are here for a greater purpose, I feel.’
Gidyon could not bear the thought that he may never see her again. ‘Wait!’ he said, this time digging into his shirt pocket. He found what he wanted and, for the second time, pulled her palm open and dropped something into it.
‘What is this?’ she said, glancing at the smooth, dull stone in her hand.
‘This, believe it or not, is incredibly precious to me, Yseul. Promise me you will never lose it, never sell it, never give it away. It belongs to me but it will keep you safe until I come to collect it. There is my reason in your hand. One day, I shall come to claim what is mine,’ he said.
She smiled. ‘Then, as plain and curious as it is, I shall consider it as precious as you do; as precious as your friendship is to me.’
It felt strange to be giving away his stone, his only tie to his past, but it seemed more important that Yseul should have something of him. Something that promised they would see each other again.
Everything seemed to be going smoothly. Lauryn was enjoying Sorrel’s company, even though she was wary of the old girl; there was just something about her which suggested caution. Still, the daily conversation about herbs and plants fascinated her and even in this short time she had begun to recognise the flowers and grasses which Sorrel pointed out to her.
Sorrel was impressed with Lauryn’s recall of which plant could help an ailment; there were even moments when she was stunned by the young woman’s adeptness at suggesting her own combinations of herbs to achieve a different result. She would make a superb healer.
But mostly they talked about her mother. Lauryn never tired of hearing about Alyssa and was especially pleased when Sorrel commented on their strong likeness, especially as her mother was reportedly
beautiful. She could hardly believe they did look alike; nevertheless, in the quiet of night she hugged herself when she thought about it. The tale she repeatedly forced Sorrel to tell was the reunion of her parents at Caremboche and their escape to the Heartwood.
‘Where do you think this Goth is now?’ Lauryn asked.
‘Dead, I should hope,’ Sorrel said with disgust.
‘But you don’t know that,’ Lauryn suggested.
‘No. The last I knew of him, he was hunting us all down in the Heartwood. Saxon, whom I’ve told you about, gave chase in order to lead the Chief Inquisitor away from where your mother was struggling to give birth to you, my child.’
Lauryn smiled, trying to build that picture in her mind.
‘Saxon would have found a way to deal with him and, if not the Kloek, then your father. I’m sure of it,’ the old woman added.
‘Of course. I’m forgetting that you don’t know anything that happened after this Darmud Coril you speak of sent you away with us. That’s right, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’
Lauryn considered this as they walked. ‘So really, we have no idea what has happened to my parents since that moment. My mother could be dead,’ she suddenly said.
‘No, child. As I said once before, I would have known. We shared a great deal, your mother and I. And your father would not bring you back to a dead mother; I am sure of that too.’
‘But how do we know they are even together? We don’t know anything about their last fifteen years.’
Sorrel nodded. ‘This is true but don’t labour it, child. Time travels differently here than it does where we have come from. It has not been nearly as long as you think here in Tallinor. Let us try to think only good thoughts. This is hard enough without us anticipating the worst possible situation. Your father is alive. He has called you. One step at a time, eh?’
Lauryn could tell Sorrel was tired. It was only the middle of the morning and yet the old woman was struggling to speak and walk at the same time. Funny, she had seemed so much stronger and healthier in their own world. Here she seemed frail. Mind you, they had walked far; much further than Lauryn could ever recall walking before. In her old life—those little parts of it she could still remember—she knew she had been lazy, had embraced any excuse not to exert energy. Yet, in the past few days of solid walking, she had noticed her complexion was clearing, her clothes felt looser and even her humour was better. She needed no mirror to know these things.
It was a rare sensation, she realised as they walked the roads, to enjoy being Lauryn. It was a grand feeling and the only blot on her day was her brother’s tone over the link.
Who was this girl he had to help, this Yseul? How could he have become so involved with someone, even as a friend, in such a short time? Lauryn grunted, but when Sorrel glanced at her, she ignored the look and kept walking. Gidyon had sounded
anxious. Actually, that was what bothered her most of all. She was worried. Just when she had finally found someone to love and care about, he got himself in trouble and she was helplessly far away and unable to help. She wanted to open a link with Gidyon right this moment, but she dared not. He had made it very clear that he needed to be left alone to think.
The hedgerow was thickening and, as they approached a bend in the road, Sorrel stopped.
‘Are you all right?’ Lauryn asked, coming out of her thoughts.
‘Someone approaches,’ Sorrel said quietly. ‘Lauryn, it is important to say this now. Should anything happen to us—’
Lauryn cut across the old girl’s words. ‘What do you mean, happen?’ She sounded alarmed.
‘I mean, child, should we get separated, or if I am unable to travel with you for any reason, you must make your own way to the Heartwood. Do not wait for me. Do not even pause for me, no matter what might occur. Get yourself to Axon and into the Great Forest, to your father. Make haste.’
Lauryn could hear men’s voices now and the sound of horses. They were moving slowly.
‘Lauryn.’ Sorrel insisted she listen. ‘Do not tell anyone who you are or how you come to be here. Let them know nothing about your background. Lie if you must but get yourself to the Heartwood as fast as you can—alone!’
Lauryn could hardly miss the fear in Sorrel’s voice but she had no time to ask more. Around the curve of
the road appeared four horsemen. She and Sorrel moved to the grass verge, eyes averted, expecting them to pass.
‘Who are they?’ Lauryn whispered.
‘King’s men,’ was all Sorrel had time to say.
The horses ambled to a halt. One of the men addressed them. ‘Pardon me, ladies. Are you alone?’
‘Obviously,’ Lauryn answered, feeling nervous from Sorrel’s caution. The old woman hissed at her.
The man got down from his horse and his men followed. He approached the two women and spoke. ‘May I have your names, please?’
Sorrel curtsied. ‘Forgive my granddaughter, sir. She is in poor humour today.’ She glared at Lauryn to remain quiet. ‘I am Sorrel, a herbwoman. This is Lauryn. We are travelling towards Axon.’
‘I see,’ he said. He looked at Lauryn. ‘We are patrolling this area for a band of thieves. We lost sight of them last night.’
‘Well, we haven’t seen anything,’ Lauryn said, hoping to bring the conversation to a close.
He ignored her tone and addressed Sorrel. ‘Madam, may I suggest that you exercise caution in travelling alone with a young woman. These men have shown themselves to be ruthless. They already know they are dead thrice over for their deeds; they show no regard for anyone.’
‘Are we in danger from them here?’
‘Well, madam, the next village is not far. I would suggest you remain there today and perhaps join with a group who may be travelling to Tal or even Hatten.
Safety in numbers. The road seems clear. We have made our presence felt so you should be safe.’
He smiled kindly. ‘I am Captain Lyngos, by the way.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Sorrel said, curtsying politely again.
Lauryn could not help herself. ‘I would suggest travelling in a group would draw more attention to ourselves. At least with just the two of us, these men, should we encounter them, will quickly see we have nothing worth stealing.’
The captain turned back to her. ‘Do you not?’
‘No,’ she replied, a little haughtily. ‘My grandmother and I are on foot. We have one bag with a few items of no interest to anyone. We have so little money; it probably would not keep them in ale.’
‘Young lady,’ the captain said, eyeing her firmly, ‘these men may take your grandmother’s coin, but they may also decide to rob you of something more precious.’
It took Lauryn a moment to realise what he meant. He was already on his horse and moving forwards when understanding hit and she felt herself blush with hot embarrassment.
‘The Light guide you safely,’ the captain said to Sorrel and they moved on.
When the guardsmen were out of earshot, Sorrel turned on her. ‘You must learn to curb that quick tongue of yours. It will get you into trouble. You have no status here yet. That was a captain of the King’s Guard and due your respect.’
Sorrel broke into a coughing fit which lasted some minutes. She could say no more.
By the time she was calm again, the incident was put aside. Lauryn was now worried for Sorrel, who was sitting on the ground from the effort of coughing.
‘Are you sick, Sorrel? How can I help?’
‘Not sick. Just old,’ she said. ‘It is almost my time.’
‘Your time?’
‘My work is almost done. I must see you safely into the care of your parents, then I can go to my rest.’
It all sounded too ominous for Lauryn. She changed the subject. ‘Are you able to continue walking?’
‘Help me up, child. We must be alert until the next village.’
Lauryn offered to carry her bag but Sorrel refused. Instead, Lauryn insisted she lighten the load and removed three apples to her own pockets and carried the small flask of fresh water. It made little difference, she was sure, but she felt better for doing something.
They covered the next mile or so wrapped in their own silent thoughts. Progress was slow but the weather was fine and it was a good road they walked. Lauryn began to relax. Sorrel was weak, there was no doubt about it, but she was a gritty old girl and made no further complaint. By mid afternoon, they sensed they were not far from the village of Hamptyn. Sorrel said they would have to stay overnight, even if they just begged the cover of a barn and a knuckle of bread from one of the farmers.
Just as she finished saying this, they rounded another bend in the road and were confronted by a small upturned cart. Lying at the side of the road was a seemingly lifeless man, his face covered in blood. By his side a lad knelt. He looked very distressed and, when he saw them, he jumped to his feet and started yelling. ‘Help me, please! It’s my da. He’s dying.’
‘Light!’ Sorrel said. She did not heed her own warning and broke into a fast shuffle over to the boy. ‘Quick, Lauryn,’ she called over her shoulder.
Lauryn took in the scene. Sorrel had told her to be so careful and here she was rushing into a situation without care. Lauryn could see that something was not right here.
Sorrel dug a cloth out of her bag to clean up the man and see how bad his wounds were.
‘Lauryn!’ she yelled. ‘I need some water.’ Lauryn moved closer and handed Sorrel the flask. ‘Use this. We can always get more.’
She looked at the boy. He immediately averted his eyes, though she knew he had been staring. There was not so much as a tear staining his face, for all his anxiety over his father. Something told her his antics were forced. He kept darting his attention behind her. No horse! That was it. That’s what was wrong. Where was the horse which had been pulling this cart?
She swung around but it was too late. Three burly men were approaching behind her.
She screamed and the boy grabbed her. He was rangy but strong and his fingers dug cruelly into her
arms. Sorrel began to scream as well as the wounded man sat up and grabbed her too, laughing.
‘Let’s see what’s in this bag then, shall we, old lady? And if there’s nothing worth taking, I’ll help myself to something from her,’ he said, licking his lips clear of the blood smeared all over them and eyeing Lauryn.
‘No!’ shrieked Lauryn, with clear understanding of his intentions.
One of the men dangled a rabbit in her face; its throat cut and still oozing the blood which had been smeared on the ‘wounded’ man’s face. She tried to push it away but blood flecked her face in her effort. The men laughed.
‘Take her into the woods,’ the leader said, standing, one foot pinning Sorrel to the ground.
Sorrel found her voice. ‘Run, Lauryn, run!’
The boy turned back and belted Sorrel so hard that the old lady fell backwards and lay deadly still.
Lauryn had been in shock to this point. But now she felt fury rising and, although two of the burly men had literally lifted her off her feet and were running her off the road into the copse of trees ahead, she began a titanic struggle. She screamed, kicked and bit whatever she could find. Fortunately, she found one man’s ear and ripped the lobe clean off. He screamed and let go of her, but the other fellow still had a mighty grip. Her arm had gone numb from his hard hold on it. He slapped her.
‘Get up, Belco!’ he ordered. ‘Help me get her away from here. We can have some fun later and you can get your revenge. You had ugly ears anyway.’
Belco belted her too, for good measure. It felt to Lauryn as though he might break her arm by the cruel way he twisted it behind her back. Her head burned from the blow but she could still see the image in her mind of Sorrel lying on the grass, lifeless, and the first man rifling through her bag.
The leader arrived, the lad behind him. ‘Where’s my grandmother?’ Lauryn screamed at them.
‘Dead!’ the leader said viciously. ‘Which is what you’ll be if you don’t shut your mouth.’
Captain Lyngos and his men arrived at the rendezvous point. His chief, the Under Prime, was kneeling at a stream near where they had set up camp. Shirtless he stood up, flicking water from his hair and face, and used his old shirt to dry himself. The Under Prime was a good-looking man; he reminded Lyngos of Prime Cyrus from years ago. He possessed the same quick wit and intelligence, as well as the dashing bravado and arrogance which won the hearts of the ladies.
It had been hard to accept him as their chief at first. They could all remember him as the little boy who had been found chained to the palace railings. Now he was a man. Not exceptionally tall, but built strongly with a heart to match. He had earned their respect the hard way, beating all of them with sword, stick, fists if necessary. None of the men had made it easy but he had won through.
It was clear that the young man had not asked for this position. He was a favourite of the King and it had been dropped onto his broad shoulders with no choice but to accept. He had not pushed his role too hard; Gyl was intelligent enough to realise that he must take the business of leading men slowly. Trust had to be earned. With Prime Herek away, as his deputy he was in charge of the remaining company.
‘Anything?’ he said, striding towards them with his distinctive swagger.
‘No, sir. All quiet. We have swept around from the back of Hamptyn and the only people we encountered were an old woman and her acidtongued granddaughter.’