Escana (18 page)

'The
river flowing. It's no more than a mile from here, another mile after
crossing it and we'll set up camp for the night.'

Ella
shrugged. 'We probably won't evade them if they are coming after us,
it's another two days walk to Urial, they're going to find us before
then if the river doesn't stop them.'

He
flung his hands up. 'What would you have us do then? Walk back to
Escana with our hands bound and ready for execution like common
criminals?'

She
smiled. 'Guilty conscience? You're the murderer here, don't forget
that.'

'Why
are you being like this?' he rounded on her, anger starting to show
at her constant remarks.

So
he had finally come out and asked instead of sitting back and taking
it. Good.

'Being like what?' she said,
hoping that he'd clarify for her whether he had understood what she
was doing at all.

He came to a complete stop then,
clearly not willing to walk and talk about this any further. 'I'm
tired, angry and all I have for company is you. Why do you persist in
testing me with your constant snide remarks?'

'I don't know you, Jakob. Aside
from a few brief glances and that meeting in the Flagon we have never
met before. Perhaps you are okay with it, but when I am travelling
with a complete stranger I like to know who they are.'

He blinked at that in disbelief,
clearly this was going to be a long-running argument. 'You can't just
ask? I'm not some insect for you to trap and take apart, I'm a real
person.'

Tears welled up in her eyes
involuntarily. Is that all he thought she was? So detached from the
world that she saw people as nothing but experiments?

'I didn't mean to make you cry,'
he said at the sight of her tears, a hint of regret in his voice.
'Just ask next time you want to know something. It's a lot easier.'

She gritted her teeth and tried
not to lash out at him for being so presumptuous. 'It's not that easy
Jakob. People lie, they conceal things that are only revealed when
they are provoked. How do I know that you're going to tell me the
truth about anything if I ask you?'

He offered her a brief smile. 'I
have nothing to hide from doing so. Life is a lot less complicated
when people are just honest with each other.'

Could he be telling the truth
right now? Or was this an attempt to disarm her suspicions of him?

She sighed, wiping away the few
tears that were left. 'You don't understand. It's not that simple.'

'It seems simple enough to me.
Come on, we need to keep walking,' he said, and with that the
conversation was abruptly over.

How close was what he had told
her to the truth? She sensed no deception from his words but for all
she knew they could have been well-worn. She had never met an honest
man in her life, so why expect Jakob to be any different?

Come to think of it, why was she
expecting him to be different? Had his daring rescue conjured up
childish images of some gallant warrior come to save her? She had
read enough to know the true natures of such men.

Honest or not, she needed to get
away from Escana. Away from her father and out into this massive
world that remained unseen. Her fate would take her where it needed
her to go, even if that was to an early and unmarked grave. Perhaps
that was where Jakob was inadvertently leading her to now.

If worst came to worst she could
always pretend to be a captive and return to the plantation. A few
harrowing tales concocted and one subsequent execution later would
have her back into her old life.

Her old life minus Solomon that
was.

She realised how much she missed
her old book of tales then. The one that had educated and taught her
throughout life in place of her own father. It was a shame she
couldn't have brought it with her, but given Jakob's inquisitiveness
it was most likely for the best.

Whatever world awaited her, she
would have to face it without her head in a book.

She
had started to lag behind him incrementally. Initially she did it to
mask her laboured breathing but found as the hours passed the
distance grew further. In spite of his brooding silence, she had
caught Jakob staring anxiously back at her on occasion.

The
chill wind that tussled the boughs of the trees offered her little
solace from the burning she felt passing through her insides. Trying
to figure out who Jakob was by pushing him felt very trivial. Her
legs started turning to lead, dragging her down towards the earth
with each step, it wouldn't be long now.

W
hen
Jimmy heard the hounds and caught sight of Thom astride a mount with
Skullcleaver strapped to his back, his fears multiplied. Harvester's
cart wasn't too far behind and at his command they came to a halt in
the square. Rumour had grown that Thom was to bring justice by the
sword and a large crowd of townsfolk and volunteers were there to see
them off. He felt the familiar impulsion seize him, now was the time
to act before the chance had gone.

Mulling
through the oblivious crowd, Jimmy slipped round the back of the cart
and kept low, praying the dogs wouldn't draw attention to him. He
buried himself under the dried hay padding the base of the cart,
hoping against hope that it wouldn't tickle his nose.

At
least two other men set out with them on horseback, prepared to offer
whatever muscle the Warden requested of them. Thom set a fast pursuit
and the bumpy journey had Jimmy stifling many curses. He shut his
eyes and tried to convince himself that his latest escapade was a
good idea.

In
spite of his fears he had never seen Thom use his sword. There was
much talk about the case of Murray and how he had dealt with the
brigands posing as their victim's creditors, yet accounts seemed
vague and conflicting at best. Many claimed he killed them all
himself unaided, others insisted that they had been there to lend a
hand. Many felt that Thom had driven them off rather than take life
in penance for the murder. The man himself waved away all discussion
of the matter and people knew better than to ask twice. Thom's fierce
reputation was another thing Jimmy had never seen justified through
action, people avoided Thom simply because he was the Warden, rather
than having any knowledge of the man's past. His father spoke nothing
but good of him, yet even his praise was vague and he seemed to be
the only one giving it. With a sinking feeling, Jimmy found that he
didn't know anything about the man either, or what Thom would do if
he found him tagging along in the cart.

Once
he had been suitably bruised and battered, the group mercifully came
to a halt. Thom had spotted something in the forest worth his
investigation.

Jimmy's
head
ached
from
the
flies
and
the
muggy
atmosphere as
he
lay
prone
under
his
scant
disguise.
He
had
managed
some
form
of
self-assurance
on
the
way
after
remaining
undetected
but
he
had
tired
far
more
quickly
than
he
thought.
He
tried to
still his beating heart once more as a guard
came
out
to
cut
wood by the
wagon, probably to make camp in the failing light should Thom not
return for some time.

Moments
passed
and
Jimmy
knew
he
couldn't
remain
there
undetected,
the
logs
were
sure
to
be
slung
his
way
if
Thom
returned.
Taking
the
weight
off
his
numb
side,
he
slid
down
into
a
gorse
bush
on
the
edge
of
the
road.
The
wagon
creaked
slightly
at
the
movement,
causing
the
guard
to
raise his head.

'Thom?'
he started to call. 'Is that y...' The rest of his words trailed off
into a gurgle as something shot out and pinned him to the side of the
wagon
.

Jimmy
stiffened,
staring
up
in
horror
at
the
stricken
man
as
he
twitched
his
last.
The
arrow
had
pierced
him
right
through
his
throat.
Had
Solomon's
real
killer
made
an
appearance?
It
was
far
too
near
Escana
for
there
to
be
any
common
bandits
on
the
road.

He
crouched
frozen
in
the
bushes,
his
body
refusing
to peer out any further, knowing that any movement could spell death.
Time slowed to a standstill and he cramped up, pins and needles
stealing over him again. He couldn't hold this position forever
either.

A
sudden
clattering
from
the
branches
announced
Harvester
and
Thom's
arrival.
They
stopped
dead
beside
the
cart
when
they
saw the body.

'Coward!'
Harvester bellowed into the woods. Pounding on his chest, he roared
at the tree line. 'Take your best shot you slimy bastards!'

The
woods swallowed up his words and left silence, it seemed no reply was
forthcoming.

Thom
noted the arrow that had pinned the man's throat to the side of the
wagon. 'Simon...' he started, then saw the man let loose his hounds.

'I'll
have your bones for this you skulking little fucker!'

Thom's
eyes squeezed shut in dismay as he heard the thud of a second arrow
and the yelping of the hounds as they halted in their tracks.

Some
of the men jumped into the cart and others tried in vain to still the
panicking horses so they could escape, Thom remained still amidst the
confusion, then made one last attempt at reasoning with the farmer.
'Simon, leave it be and get back into the damn cart if you value your
life!'

Harvester
looked back at him with seething rage, but noticing the fear in his
men's eyes for the first time he picked up the dead hound and limped
back.

Thom
pulled the arrow clean of the corpse and ordered men to bundle it
into the back with the hound. He walked towards the woods with his
sword sheathed and hands in a placating gesture.

'These
men have no quarrel with you, they shall depart and we shall speak
alone of your actions,' he spoke into the nothingness, not raising
his voice beyond speaking level.

Silence.

Thom
motioned Harvester to depart, something he looked only too happy to
do. At any other time Jimmy suspected that Thom would have been
intensely gratified by the man's silent compliance. It was no secret
that the two men did not see eye-to-eye.

When
the
cart
was
out
of
sight
amongst
the
trees,
Jimmy watched
as the Warden cast his scabbard onto the ground and stood still. He
had failed to notice his other observer crouching in the bushes
across the road.

For
what seemed like an eternity, Jimmy edged forward as quietly as he
could.

The
Warden continued to stare silently into the trees from where the
arrows had come, all his attention seemingly bent on that one area of
the forest. In spite of the lack of interest Thom was giving him,
Jimmy's heart pounded painfully against his chest. His fear of being
spotted had long since been replaced by the fear of what was shooting
at them.