Eleanor (5 page)

As she reached the building’s wall she realised she was not going to be tall enough to see inside. As she stood on her tiptoes trying to pull herself up on the ledge, something grabbed her leg. She yelped in surprise. There was a dirty hand thrust through a small barred hole near the bottom of the wall. Panic and fear twisted in her stomach and she kicked at the arm, falling on her back in the mud in the process. The hand released her and retreated back into the hole. Once her heart rate had slowed a little and Eleanor was quite sure no one was going to come out of the building and investigate the noise she had just made, she peered into the hole, making sure she did not get too close. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom she found two bloodshot eyes staring back at her. It was a man, a dirty, badly dressed man. He appeared to be in some sort of room, as there was a closed door behind him with a barred hole that allowed flickering orange light to spill in from the other side.
It’s a prison.
Once Eleanor’s mind reached this conclusion it seemed obvious. The man was saying something in that strange growling, snarling language. Eleanor did not understand him any better than she had the horse man, although his tone became more desperate as she moved away. She ignored him; there was nothing she could do. There were other holes with bars across them further along the wall – other cells, she thought.
Maybe Conlan is in one of them
. The next cell was empty and the one after that. The first cell on the other side of the steps contained another dirty man, who was lying spread-eagle on the floor snoring loudly.
 

She found Conlan in the next cell. He sat with his back to the wall on the right side of his prison, his knees pulled up to his chest, his grey trousers were covered in mud. His forehead rested on arms crossed over his knees. In the dim orange light Eleanor could see blood. It spiked up the hair on the left side of his head, and from what she could see it had run copiously down his face, soaking the collar of his jacket.
 

“Conlan,” she whispered as quietly as possible. He raised his head. Eyes dulled with pain stared at her until his brain registered what he was looking at.
 

“What are you doing here?” he spat.
 

Eleanor was taken aback by his anger. He stood stiffly and painfully, the damage sustained clearly not just to his head. He shuffled like an old man until he was under the hole and could look her in the eye.

“I tracked you, Conlan, tracked Rand,” Eleanor told him, unable to keep the pride out of her voice.

“Great,
now
you decide you’re not helpless!” he snapped. “You were safe where I left you, Eleanor. It’s most definitely not safe for you here – go,
immediately
!”
 

“I don’t know where to go.” It sounded like a child’s whine, even to her own ears, so desperate and pathetic.
 

Conlan sighed, the anger draining from his face and leaving just the pain.
 

“Follow the main street towards the mountains and you’ll come to a large tree at the edge of town. Stay hidden. I’ll find you there tomorrow.”

“They’ll let you go tomorrow?” Eleanor asked confused. Conlan nodded wearily. She did not understand. If someone had gone to the trouble of imprisoning him, why would they let him go tomorrow?
 

“Why have they locked you up now? What happened? What were you doing here?”

“Not now, Eleanor – just go!” he ordered.
 

“No.”

“Pardon?”

“No. Conlan, I found you, which was no easy feat, by the way! I’m not going anywhere until you give me a straight answer.” She gave him a determined look, or one she hoped made her appear determined.

Eleanor watched the anger move back into his expression.
 

“I made a mistake,” he said with a bitter resignation that gave Eleanor the impression that he did not really believe his current situation was his fault. “Now I’m paying for it, but I don’t want you to pay for it as well. So
go
!”

Eleanor shook her head. “Not nearly good enough.”

Conlan said something in the growling language the horse man had used. The words meant nothing to Eleanor, but the tone and delivery gave her the impression it had been a string of rather strong profanities.

“Fine, whole story,” he said, switching back to English. “There are some things we need that we can’t find or make ourselves. Medical supplies mostly. I thought I could visit Bremen and be back before you woke up.”

“Bremen?” Eleanor interrupted.

“The town, Eleanor, this is Bremen. They used to be free, but things have changed, particularly as there are Protectors here now. A couple of men tried to steal Rand – nothing I couldn’t handle, but the Protectors got involved. I have no papers and neither does Rand, so I was accused of being a horse thief. Rand is confiscated, I get a night in jail and first thing tomorrow morning a public flogging, then they let me go.”

“A public flogging? That doesn’t sound very pleasant.”

“It’s not,” Conlan agreed, his tone emotionless, but Eleanor saw him shudder.
 

“Don’t you get a trial or something?” Eleanor asked. This was all wrong. Conlan annoyed her, but he seemed to be a good person and he certainly did not deserve this.
 

Conlan shook his head and Eleanor was sure she saw a flash of terror in his green eyes.
 

“Bremen has also acquired a resident Enforcer,” he whispered.
 

“Enforcer?” Eleanor felt confusion wash over her again.

Conlan noticed her expression, nodding grimly. “Protectors are mostly thugs, violent bullies, but their power is limited to their strength, numbers and skill at torture. Enforcers, however have the power of the elements at their command, power that’s been twisted, power it’s very difficult to circumvent. The only force capable of taking down an Enforcer is another Enforcer. They’re cunning, vicious and utterly without mercy. It was better to capitulate than have one involved.”

“And there’s one of those here?” Eleanor whispered, fear cramping her stomach. Conlan nodded again, holding her gaze.
This is why he wants me out of town.
It was a logical order, with her best interests behind it, but Eleanor could no more have obeyed it than she could have stopped breathing.

“Did you steal Rand?” Eleanor asked.

“No!”
 

The indignant tone was enough to convince Eleanor he was telling the truth. “Then you have to escape,” she insisted.

“Eleanor, be quiet,” he snapped. “This isn’t a game. If they catch you, they’ll kill you.”

“Why? What did I do?” she asked, totally bewildered. Conlan’s head dropped and he stared at the floor for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was flat again, empty.
 

“You exist… For some people that’s enough.”
 

Eleanor felt her fear become terror at his words, but she fought it back, panic would help no one. He watched the expressions move across her face; when he spoke again, his voice was gentle.
 

“Please, Eleanor, just go to the edge of town. I’ll find you. We still have a long way to go, and this really isn’t your problem.”
 

Eleanor felt her anger surge at the pity she could see in his eyes. “So I just run away and leave you?” she asked incredulously. “What about Rand?”

Conlan turned his face away to hide the worry, but he could not quite keep it out of his voice. “I don’t even know where he is.”
 

Eleanor smiled. “I do.”
 

He turned back, giving her his unfathomable look again. She felt like a bug under a microscope. Whatever conclusions he came to, he kept them to himself.
 

“Leave him, Eleanor;” he said quietly. “Rand isn’t worth your life.” His resignation was beginning to grate. Clearly the town was a dangerous place to be, but she was not stupid and she could lie low, she could help him.
I’m not going to abandon them.
Conlan and Rand were her friends, she was not going to let them suffer if she could help it.

“Conlan, I can help you. In fact, I’m
going
to help you.”

“No, you’re
going
to follow my order and leave town now,” he barked.

“And how exactly do you intend to make me comply with that order?” she enquired. He glared at her, and Eleanor was suddenly very glad he had no way to reach her.

“What is it with Earth?!” he exploded. “They never take orders. One day on your own tracking hoof prints and you think you’re Venusia!”

“I think I’m who?” Eleanor asked, frightened by his anger and totally confused again.

“Venusia. She was a great leader and warrior of the royal bloodline.” Some of his anger dissipated as he explained.

“Oh, like Xena?” Eleanor said brightly, as understanding dawned.

“Xena?”

“Yeah! Xena, we have warrior princesses in my world too, you know!”

Conlan gave her another penetrating look, before trying again. “Eleanor, I need you to leave.”

“No, you need my help!” she insisted, trying her determined glare on him again.

“No, I need to know you’re safe!” he shot back. They regarded each other sternly, but eventually Eleanor looked away, knowing his flashing green eyes were still drilling into her.

“Conlan, I am going to rescue you and Rand, but it might be easier if you helped me plan it,” she said, glancing back at him.

“We don’t need rescuing!” He was so angry now that he was clenching and unclenching his fists, but he could not reach her and this made Eleanor feel braver.

“Stop being such an arse. Are you always like this when you don’t get your own way?” she asked, watching his entire body tense.
 

“My own way? You have no idea what you’re risking! You’re an idiot!”

“Thanks so much for the assessment of my intellect!” Eleanor muttered.

Conlan continued to glare at her, but finally he took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he spoke, his tone was once again calm and steady; Eleanor wondered how much effort it had taken.
 

“Eleanor, I brought you here, gave you life. I’m responsible for you. You’re going to get plenty of chance to risk yourself in the future without pulling an idiotic rescue mission like this.”

“If you’re going to be a defeatist about it, I’ll just have to rescue you on my own.”
 

As Eleanor stood to leave, Conlan grabbed at her ankle through the bars but she jumped out of the way and ran off into the dark.

She had half a plan forming in her head, but she needed Rand. Using the shadows, she made her way back to the stables. The rain had become a violent storm and the wind seemed to be chasing her, trying to pull her off her feet as it battered with palpable rage against the closed shutters and doors of the deserted village. Rand was where she had left him. She opened the stall door and slipped inside. Again, he seemed pleased to see her, gently nudging his nose against her shoulder. She was going to have to get him out of the stable, across the courtyard and onto the street, but with his metal shoes someone would hear. She needed something to muffle the noise. There was also the matter of when to leave, because if she stole Rand back too soon, someone might raise the alarm before she could rescue Conlan. She would have to wait. Pulling herself into a corner of the stall she drew straw around her, thankful that at least she was dry. Rand stooped to rub his face against hers; she patted him in return, closed her eyes and waited.

Guilt at having slept brought her fully awake in seconds. Someone had opened Rand’s stall, flooding it with weak morning light. She froze, not even daring to breathe as a small boy entered and put a nosebag over Rand’s head, talking to him softly in the same strange language she had heard before. Fortunately the boy kept Rand between himself and Eleanor, so he failed to notice her partially hidden in the corner. He left as quickly as he had entered, leaving the top half of the stall door open. Working as quickly and quietly as she could, terrified that she had already let Conlan down, Eleanor pulled off the sleeves of her shirt, the seams giving easily. She then tore two uneven strips off the bottom of the shirt, the sound hidden by the noise Rand was making eating the contents of his nosebag.
At least someone’s getting breakfast.
Taking the sleeves and two strips of material, she tied one round each of Rand’s hooves, stuffing them with straw. The horse stopped eating to watch her, puzzled but remaining perfectly still as she worked. Being careful, Eleanor looked out through the open top of the stall door and found that the courtyard was empty. She had no idea how long this would be the case, but she could not afford to wait. With her heart pounding painfully in her chest she opened the door carefully, removed Rand’s nosebag and threw it back into the stall. The animal followed it wistfully with his eyes, but he allowed Eleanor to lead him into the courtyard when she gave his mane a tentative tug. Closing the stall door slowly behind her, she led him towards the alley, relieved to find that his padded hooves made no noise. Near the end of the alley, she stopped and removed the makeshift mufflers. The next bit of her plan was not very well thought through. Could she just walk down the main street with a horse and have nobody comment?
Only one way to find out.
Taking a deep breath she led Rand out onto the muddy track. Head held high, she tried to walk as if she owned the place and had every right to be there, but her act was unnecessary. The street was empty. As she approached the square, Eleanor understood why. It was full of people – practically the whole town must have gathered. There was a party atmosphere as the crowd jostled each other for a better view of the raised stone platform in the centre of the square, which now had a thick length of pole embedded in it pointing upwards to the overcast sky. When they said public flogging, they meant
very
public flogging. Eleanor’s stomach twisted until she felt sick.
How can they find pleasure in another’s suffering? Why do they want to see this?
More importantly, how was she going to reach Conlan through all those people?