Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series (33 page)

Derek frowned in thought. “All right, I'll talk to Philias and see if they have any problems with us joining them for a while.” Trestus stood up and started to move away. “Wait a moment.” Trestus paused and turned back toward Derek, the other two watched him as well. “Be careful, and don't let your guard down. I don't trust any of them.”

Derek found Philias near the edge of camp, just off of the road. Philias had been speaking quietly to a group of ten men who sat on horseback. He spoke for a moment, and then the horsemen rode quickly northward.

Philias glanced back at Derek's approach, and then turned back to watch the departing horsemen. “I hate sending men into danger.” Derek stopped besides the entertainer, and he too watched the horsemen galloping away. “Did Kara tell you what my scout found?”

Derek nodded. “Any idea who they are?”

Philias shook his head, “I sent some scouts out as soon as I heard his report, and they found their camp, but they had already fled.”

Derek was surprised, “I thought the men who just rode out were your scouts.”

Philias shook his head again, “No. I sent these men to see if they could track the strangers. It would be nice to know where they are headed,” He paused for just a moment. “It would also be nice to know who they are.” The horsemen were out of sight now and Philias turned back towards camp and started walking slowly, Derek hurried to catch up. “Matim, uh, he's the scout that found the strangers. Anyway, he was scared by the looks of those men, and he's not one that scares easy.”

“I understand. Kara told me that he looked shaken.” He shrugged and smiled, “Actually, She is a little scared herself.” He paused for just a moment, “In fact, that is why I'm here.”

Philias glanced over at Derek, “Oh?”

“Yes.” Derek sighed, “I was hoping we could travel with you for a while. We're heading in the same direction, and I don't like the idea of finding these men by ourselves.”

“I see.” Philias said, sounding less than enthusiastic about the idea. “We offered you hospitality last night, but I'm afraid I couldn't possibly do that till King's Folly.”

Derek smiled, “We would be happy to pay for our food, and we can help with camp, and perhaps standing guard.”

Philias, smiling, put an arm around Derek as they walked, “I think we can come to an arrangement.”

Chapter 13

Heather rode along behind the wagon caravan and watched the unchanging scenery that passed by on the side of the road. Trees and shrubs slowly drifted past. It had been three days since they had left
Tyler
's Junction, and they continued to set a steady if unspectacular pace. At first, she had been concerned about the lack of speed that they were making, but two things changed her mind. First, although the wagons were slow moving, they continued to move from sunup to sundown, and she was amazed at how much ground they covered in a day. Second, there were an unusual number of armed men on the road, and Adel only knew how many of them were bandits.

“Hi Heather,” An all too familiar voice called out from just behind her.

Heather turned, already knowing who was there. Jefflem was riding a large bay gelding and smiling at her like a child. The boy didn't know when to stop. He had set his sights squarely on her when they left, and so far he was refusing to stop. She had tried politely refusing the boy's advances, when that hadn't worked, she had gotten rather rude, but no matter what she did the boy kept trying. She was starting to think that she would have to put a knife in him to get some peace.

She smiled a pained smile. “What can I do for you, Jefflem?”

He moved his horse closer, “Why don't you have dinner with me tonight?” He actually looked hopeful, even though she had refused this same offer every night since the journey had begin.

“Thank you, but no.” Jefflem's face fell at her words. “As I told you last night, I don't think that would be a good idea.”

“Why not? You seemed to like me okay when we were at
Tyler
's Junction.” There was an angry whining tone to his voice, and she began to consider her knife again.

Heather turned toward Jefflem, all traces of friendliness gone from her voice. “Like I told you last night, I am not interested in you.”

The smile was also gone from Jefflem's face as well, “Well, if you got to know me a little, then you might be interested.”

“Well, Jefflem. I guess we will never know. Will we?”

Jefflem stared at her for a moment, murder seemed to be swirling in his eyes, and then he nudged his horse forward and was soon lost in the wagons.

“That boy's trouble,” A female voice said from just behind Heather. She turned to see Mikela and Aaron nudging their horses closer to hers.

Aaron nodded, “Mikela's right. That boy won't hear no. Will he?” He watched Jefflem's horse move out of sight ahead of them.

Heather shook her head, “No, and I don't know what to do about it.”

Aaron nodded at Heather's knife on her right hip. “I saw you fingering your knife when you were talking to him.”

Heather looked sharply at Aaron. “I thought about the knife, but I didn't know that I was touching it.”

Mikela sighed, “If you hurt that boy, then his uncle and all of these wagon drivers will be after us. You can bet on it.”

The next day, Heather didn't see Jefflem at all while the wagons were moving. A small hope started to bloom in her gut, perhaps the boy had finally realized that he didn't stand a chance. Dark clouds rolled in late in the day, and the weather got cold and windy. But even as the weather worsened, Heather's mood was getting better by the minute, although she still kept jumping when people moved past her.

As the sun went down, they set up camp just off of the road in a small field. Heather whistled quietly as Aaron and Mikela helped her set up the small tent that they had brought with them. The tent itself was fairly easy to assemble, being a little more than a waterproof piece of canvas held up by a pole, and they had it complete in a matter of minutes.

Aaron and Mikela headed off to gather fire wood, leaving Heather to unpack the blankets and dig a small fire pit.

She arranged the blankets in the tent and was backing out when she heard footsteps along the side of the tent. “That was quick. There must be a lot of wood nearby.”

No words were said, but hands grabbed her and shoved back into the tent. Heather landed on her stomach, the air forced roughly out of her, and somebody landed on top of her. “You acted like you liked me in the pub, and now you lose interest.” Rough hands ripped at her shirt, “I'm not going to let you get away with that.”

The voice belonged to Jefflem, and Heather felt an anger rising in her. That miserable little brat thought that he could force himself on her? He clawed at her clothes, and part of her shirt ripped down the side, and the bubbling rage exploded through her. Her right arm was bent with her hand supporting her weight on the ground, and she snapped her elbow backwards as fast and hard as she could. Satisfaction burst through her as Jefflem let out a squeal of pain and slid halfway off of her.

“You filthy bitch. I'll kill you for this.”

The arm that was pinning her right side let go, she fumbled for the handle of her knife. The knife was still on her belt, but she was laying on it, and the knife was turned up under her. She could feel it digging into her stomach, but she couldn't quite get a grip on the handle.

Jefflem's breathing was ragged and even his breathing sounded angry. His left hand still held her left arm above the elbow, and now he started to shift his weight, trying to get back on top of her. “You broke my nose.” He almost sounded calm, and that scared her even worse than him sounding angry. “Let's see how I can repay you.”

Heather made a frantic lunge for the handle of the knife, and relief flooded through her as her hand wrapped around the cool metal. She could feel Jefflem's weight shifting, and she knew that she didn't have a whole lot of time. She yanked the knife from its sheath, and jabbed it backwards into his right leg, which was lying over her side.

He howled in pain and jerked his leg away from the knife. With his weight suddenly gone, Heather rolled away from him and climbed quickly to her feet. She turned to face him, crouching somewhat, with the knife held out in front of her.

He was kneeling on his left knee, while he held his hand over the bleeding wound on his right leg. “You bitch,” he repeated again, his face showing disbelief that she had managed to hurt him.

“Poor little boy,” she practically spit the words at him. “What? Did you think that I would just lie there?” She moved forward almost too quick to follow, and slashed across his right shoulder, leaving a red bleeding line on his skin.

Jefflem screamed and fell backwards, scooting and sliding on the ground to get away from the knife wielding woman. “What are you doing? Get away from me with that thing!” He continued scooting on his butt, his eyes starting to show fear for the first time.

Heather actually smiled, but it was a cold furious smile. “What am I doing? Surely you know. You wanted to stick that little thing of yours in me,” she nodded toward his pants, “And now I intend to return the favor.” She hefted the knife, “I intend to stick this little think in you.” She spoke in a cold quiet voice that was all the more frightening by its lack of emotion. Her anger almost seemed to be gone, and in its place was a detached determination to finish this fight.

Jefflem's eyes widened and he sped up his scooting away from her. “Wait! We can work this out.”

Heather didn't respond, but instead just kept slowly approaching, almost stalking the young man. One slow step after another, she came closer and closer. She paused, confused, as a look of relief came over the face of Jefflem. Her confusion was short lived, as rough hands seized her by the shoulders and yanked her backwards. The knife was quickly taken from her.

She stomped her foot down on where she hoped her attacker's foot was, and at the same time snapped her head back, hoping to hit her attacker's chin. She was rewarded with a sharp pain on the back of her head as she hit somebody's chin hard, and a gruff voice let loose with several oaths.

“Stop it!” Another voice called from farther behind her. “Don't hurt her.”

The gruff voice, that had been cursing, now stopped and asked, “Hurt her? What about hurting me?”

The rough hands let her go, and pushed her down on the ground. She landed rather hard on her stomach, but she rolled over immediately trying to get a glance at the man who had been holding her. She recognized the man too; it was Shim, one of Master Elridge's wagon drivers. He stood in between her and Jefflem, trying to keep an eye on both of them.

Heather realized that her scuffle with Jefflem had drawn a crowd. A large group of wagon drivers, guards, and trail hands had gathered, and more were hurrying over, but her attention was quickly drawn to the man in front, it was Master Elridge.

Master Elridge, or Wylon as he had asked to be called, looked from Heather lying on the ground, to Jefflem, who was sitting on the ground and bleeding profusely from several wounds. There seemed to be a nervous tick in his right cheek.

Heather noticed Aaron and Mikela returning from gathering firewood, and was relieved to have some support in the crowd. Although, what they could do to help was beyond her, since they were so outnumbered.

“What in the name of the abyss is going on here?” Master Elridge demanded.

Heather opened her mouth to answer, but Jefflem interrupted her. “That bitch tried to kill me. If Shim hadn't gotten here, she might have succeeded.”

Shim grunted, “If I hadn't gotten here, then she definitely would have succeeded.”

Wylon nodded to Heather, “Is that true? Did you try to kill the boy?”

“Absolutely,” Heather spat. Barely noticing the look of surprise that flitted across Wylon's face. “That punk tried to rape me. I intend to try and geld that little....”

“She's lying!” Jefflem interjected. “She asked me to come here, and when I did, then she attacked me.” He pointed towards the cuts on his body. “You see what she did to me.”

Aaron's hand was resting on the hilt of his sword, but he knew that if he drew that sword then all three of them were dead. There were simply too many to beat in a fight. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he kept watching the crowd, while trying to listen to what was being said.

Wylon looked back from Jefflem to Heather; he seemed to be studying her. He turned back to Jefflem, “And after she attacked you, what happened?”

Jefflem smiled, “I tried to get away from her and she pulled the knife on me.” He pointed to his chest and shoulder, “You can see that she knows how to use it.”

Wylon looked back at Heather, but he continued speaking to Jefflem, “And I suppose that her shirt got torn in the scuffle?”

Jefflem's smile slipped a little, “Uh, yes.”

Wylon continued to stare at Heather, “I'm curious Jefflem, if she attacked you with a knife, and then you ran, how did she get dirt and mud all over her face?”

“The boy's lying.” A deep voice called from the crowd.

Both Jefflem and Wylon looked up, actually Jefflem was glaring into the crowd. But the speaker was not to be seen.