Alexandria (45 page)

“How many people live there?” she asks, cutting him off.

“Maybe a thousand. They have hundreds of soldiers.”

“These people took you?”

“They burned our home in the forest,” says Lia. “Killed everyone but the children.”

Ellen’s breath hitches.
“They killed everyone?”

“They took us all to the Temple, all my friends, and they made us be like them. You know the place they’re looking for? Alexandria? Someone said you could take us there.”

“Who said that?” asks Nyla, wrapping a milk poultice around Lia’s shoulder.

Ellen looks curiously at Nyla, burning for fresh gossip.

“Thomas,” says Lia. “Only he’s not called Thomas anymore. Do you know him?”

“Thomas? I don’t…”

“He has a brother. They grew up there together and Thomas ran away.”

Nyla freezes in the midst of her work. “He’s my uncle,” she says numbly. “You met Thomas?”

Lia nods. “You
do
know him.”

“I’ve heard stories about him. He left before I was born. That was… so long ago… Where is he?”

“He lives everywhere.”

“How did you find him?”

“He found us. He saved us from wolves.”

“Is he… okay?”

“Sort of. He’s friends with a bear.”

“What?”
Nyla rinses her hands in a bowl of water then leans back, rubbing her temples.

“He told us you could take us there,” Jack presses. “To Alexandria.”

“You can ride a horse?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” she says. She rises and gathers up her supplies. “In the morning, we’ll ride out to my father’s house. We have to tell him what’s happened.”

“I hate you.”

“Jeneth, I’m sorry.” Eriem kneels in the darkly lit corridor, next to one of the heavy wooden doors that secure the cells in the keep.

“Please tell me she’s okay…” Jeneth says through the barrier.

“She’s fine. She’s in the nursery. I won’t let anything happen to her. I promise.”

“What good are your promises?”

“I’m sorry…”

“How could you let them do this to us?”

“I had no choice. None of us did.”

“You had a choice. Don’t lie. You could have broke their orders.”

“Jeneth,” he says, exasperated. “Don’t say that. Please, just stay calm and keep quiet. They’ll let you out soon, I know.”

“Go away.”

“Jeneth…”
He pounds on the door. “Jeneth, you hear me?”

Nothing. He can hear whispering inside the cell. He reaches his hand underneath the door and someone grinds a heel into it.

“Get off!”
He quick snatches back his hand. “I asked to stay on Temple duty so I could be close to you,” he says roughly.

“Go away,”
she cries. “Please, just go away—I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Ever again.”

He leers at the door and presses his face close to the crack between the jamb. “You know, I was about to stand with Ezbeth… but you’re on your own. Stay down here if you want.”

Jeneth falls back against the wall and buries her face in her hands. Misery is general around her. Shapeless forms cowering in the dark, clinging to each other, uplit from the torchglow snaking under the door like a fog. Phoebe curls against her and latches onto her elbow. A jagged red line runs across the side of Phoebe’s throat, with crude black X’s of stitchwork holding her skin together.

“It’s gonna be okay, Jeneth,” she says.

“Here’s an old fool,” says Collins to his wife.

“Friend of yours?” asks the watchman who spotted him.

“Something like that.”

The timeworn traveler ticks sprightly up the roadway toward the Olde Village, and the bear and wolf chase through the brambles ahead of him.

“Hello, Collins.”

“H’lo, Henry. Been what, ‘bout a year or more?”

“About that,” says the man with many names. “How are you, Mary?”

“We’re fine. Still got your family, I see.”

“Sorry. Ruck, get down.”

“What brings you?” asks Collins. “Passin’ through?”

“Not exactly. Something’s coming this way, something you ought to know about. Wanted to… have a talk with you.”

“All right, well…” Collins puts his arm around his wife, perplexed. “I suppose you should come on in. You hungry?”

“Always.”

They wander through the winding roads, catching up on their adventures. Candlelight flickers through the vaulted stone windows and shadows pass of families settling down for the evening. Crickets thrum in the bushes, and the scent of roasted meat drifts through the streets. They come around to a sizable bonfire pit, burning low on its last few logs. Collins tosses on a couple more and takes a seat on a wooden bench angled toward the flames.

“Rest your feet, there, Henry. Can I get anything for your… for them?”

“They’re fine.” He smiles, stained teeth showing through a mess of beard. “Collins, I should start by confessing that I’m not called Henry. Never was.”

“Oh?”

“My name’s Thomas. I didn’t tell you because I was scared.”

“Scared of
us?”
Collins asks, a touch intrigued.

“No,” chuffs Thomas, “not in the least. There’s a bad lot living to the north of here. The sort that kill and steal. I’ve come to advise you and your friends to leave this land and hide out somewhere, at least for the time being.”

“Hide out,”
says Mary. “We’ve lived here years, we can’t just up and leave.”

“We’re not leaving,” says Collins. “This is our home. And anyone comes to take it from us, they’ll have to reckon with me.” He touches his hand to the bow strapped over his shoulder.

“Collins, listen to me—they’ll kill every last one of you. You can’t fight them. It’s possible you can come back here someday, but right now you’ve got to
leave
. There’s no choice, I’m sorry.”

Collins leans back and grimaces, rubbing his broad stomach. Several children chase through the plaza, laughing and squealing.

“How’d you come to know all this?”

“It’s a long story, but I know it to be true.”

“And they’re coming… these killers?”

“Yes. I believe they are.”

“You’ve come around here before with some awful wild notions. How do I know this isn’t one of ‘em?”

“I run from them myself, long years ago. Because I’m a coward. It’s how I ended up out here. Collins, you have to believe me—they’ll burn this place to the ground, with you in it. Listen to me—
you have to run.”

Collins works him over with hard eyes. “All right,” he says, taking his wife’s hand. “We’ll leave. First thing in the morning.”

Thomas sighs out a breath of relief.

“I’ll round up everybody tonight, tell them to get their things in order.”

“Good. It’s best, you’ll just have to trust me.”

“All right, then. You want to join along? Strength in numbers.”

“Naw, Collins. Afraid I can’t.” Thomas pats his hand on his thigh and Ruck rises tiredly and weaves toward him. He scratches at his ears and looks back to Collins.

“You look like you got something else on your mind…”

“There was… one other thing,” says Thomas. “Something I wanted to ask of you.”

“Oh?”

“If memory serves, you used to have several old ponies tied up around here.”

“Still do.”

“I’d like to propose a trade,” says Thomas, positioning himself grandly. “A bear and a wolf for a pony.”

Collins cackles until he coughs up balls of phlegm. “What in hell would I want a bear for?”

“She’s good protection.”

“What protects us from
her?”

“Little bit of love,” says Thomas, grinning slyly.

Collins laughs until his chest rattles. “You’re crazy.”

“I know it,” says Thomas, low and straight-faced.

“Hold on… you’re serious?”

“Mmm.”

“Oh my. Thomas… I’ll have to think about that one.”

“Sleep on it.”

“That I will.”

Chapter Sixteen

The first shine of morning light sees three separate bands embark upon three separate paths that each lead to the same destination, distant and solitary in the desert expanse. Keslin turns his army on a new course, old Thomas spurs his bartered pony, and in the quiet valley outpost, Nyla saddles their mounts and lays out the provisions for a long ride east. There are dozens of horses milling around, each with loaded saddlebags draped over their haunches and small kits hooked over the pommels. Nyla closes the gate then arches her back and stretches, looking out over the morning tide with a reflective air, as if she’s already feeling its absence.

Out back of the shelters, Jack and Lia struggle to pull their boots up over their pant legs. The salve on their feet squishes between their toes and soaks the wrappings around their blisters. Their muscles have tightened such that they can barely move, and they stumble around clumsily, grinning at each other. Lia slips a blouse over her head and gets lost in the pleats and folds.

“Um… Jack…”

“Hmm?”

“I’m stuck.”

He straightens her out and lowers the collar around her head. The loose neckline slips off the curve of her shoulder and he rights it, smoothing it delicately over her bandages.

“I told you we’d be okay.”

“You did.” She slips her arm through his and looks up at him. “But we’re not there yet.”

Nyla put them up for the night in her living room and they awoke to find the cabin empty. They limp out into the courtyard, catching the eye of a few early risers. A young woman steps out onto a small wooden porch behind one of the cabins and calls over to them.

“Breakfast is hot if you’re hungry.”

As soon as she speaks the words, Jack realizes that he is ravenous. They wander over and climb onto the porch. The smell of food cooking makes his knees weak.

“So you’re the two,” says a thin old fellow, resting back by the fire with his feet kicked up on a wooden ottoman. Three teary-eyed children sit dolefully on the floor at his feet.

“Good morning,” says Jack.

“Would be if I weren’t leaving. What’s all this about an army? Where you two from?”

“Drink your coffee, Keith. Leave them alone. Nyla told you everything last night.” The woman hands Jack and Lia plates heaped with eggs and biscuits. “Sorry, he’s a little…”

“Don’t be,” says Lia.

“I’m June.”

“I’m—“

“—I know who you are. You knew Renning?”

“Not exactly,” says Jack with his mouth full. “We met Ethan.”

“You saw them killed?”

“We didn’t see it, no. I think Ethan figured they would be, though.”

June stumbles back against the counter.

“You knew him?” asks Lia.

“I’m his wife.”

“I’m sorry.”

She sweeps a tear out of her eye with her thumb. “These are our kids. This is Renning’s dad, Keith. He’s not… he doesn’t understand.
His mind…”
She taps her head.

“Oh,” says Jack. “I understand.”

“You came all the way here to warn us?”

Jack nods.

She takes them both by the hand and squeezes.
“Thank you.”
Another tear breaks free. “Excuse me,” she says, and cups her hand over her mouth and leaves through a side hall.

Keith eyes them from the fire, looking them over suspiciously. “You done something to my boy?”

“No, not us, we…” Jack stammers and scratches his head. “We didn’t do anything.”

Keith levels his gaze and the children at his feet watch Jack and Lia hypnotically. They chew uncomfortably under the scrutiny, and both are quite thankful when a few more settlers straggle in and start filling their plates.

“Get some sleep?” asks Denit.

“A little.”

“That’s about what I got.”

He pours out cups of black, bitter coffee and Jack and Lia make sour faces when they taste it. June shuffles back in, her face puffy, and scoops up two of her children and nods for the third to follow her along. They disappear into the back room, collecting their things.

“We’re about to set out,” says Denit. “Nyla’s getting your horses ready. We’ll be riding out with you.” He nods to the men, a little over a dozen now, milling around the kitchen and back porch. “I guess we got no choice but to trust you—you seem pretty sure of yourselves.”