Pathfinder's Way (33 page)

Now, nearly a month and a half later she was
still with them. Every time she thought about slipping away and
heading home something stopped her. Camaraderie and companionship
bound her to them more effectively than Fallon’s chains.

Besides, what better place to hide out than
under her enemy’s very nose? After her escape no one would ever
think she would be dumb enough to return. If they were still
searching for her, they’d focus on the roads to the north. Maybe
even return to Goodwin of Ria to see if she went there. No, she
felt pretty safe masquerading as a boy in Fallon’s own army.

“When will we get there?” Cale, the
expedition leader for the supply train, barked as he rode up beside
them. Shea remembered him from Goodwin of Ria and was grateful he
didn’t recognize her. He hadn’t given her a good feeling in the
last meeting. He was well on his way to providing an even worse one
on this encounter.

He had a sharp beak for a nose and very
pronounced eyebrows. He wasn’t soft, none of the Trateri were, but
he was softer than the soldiers Shea was used to seeing, lacking
that chiseled edge of lethality most carried. The only thing that
saved him was the scar on his neck and his well-muscled body.
Despite that scar, he would be considered handsome by most. For
Shea, he seemed too put together. Despite being on the trail, he
spent an hour every morning attending to his appearance.

“We were supposed to arrive hours ago,” he
said.

Buck rolled his eyes where Cale couldn’t see
him and mouthed the last sentence mockingly. Shea bit her lip and
looked down trying to contain the smile threatening to break out.
The man said something similar every time they got close to a
village. They had come to expect it and could practically repeat
the conversation verbatim now.

“We’re closer to camp than you think.
Probably just a day or two more,” Eamon said.

Cale looked up at the ridgeline and sniffed.
He’d already made the argument that they should just go over it and
was shot down by Eamon courtesy of Shea. It was one of the reasons
the trip was taking longer than expected. They had to detour around
several hills to find land that could support a wagon.

Despite Cale’s expectations, it wouldn’t have
been faster to go over. The climb would take just as long because
of the steep grade. Their breaks would have to double, and they’d
most likely have had to leave the wagons and horses behind as the
steepness meant they wouldn’t be able to make the climb.

“Is there anything else?” Eamon tilted his
head expectantly when Cale didn’t move.

“I plan to bring your insubordination and
general bad attitude to the attention of your superiors,” Cale said
vehemently.

“In that case, you’ll want to make sure your
concerns are sent directly to Mathias. He’s the one who deals with
issues of this nature. If you give it to Thomas or William, they’ll
forget all about it as soon as you’re gone,” Buck told him
helpfully.

“You think this is funny?” Cale’s lips
twisted angrily. “I’ve heard about you three and that your captain
doesn’t think much of you. After I get done with you, you won’t be
fit to wear the green. Maybe they’ll even put you on the frontlines
with the rest of the throwaways.”

“Sir, I’ll thank you not to threaten my men.”
Eamon’s eyes had gone flinty. “I am the scout master for this
expedition, and you agreed upon this route. If you have a problem,
I will not stop you from raising your concerns with my superiors,
but you will not speak to my men like that again.” His lips parted
in a nasty smile. “They don’t like that, you see. Shane, there, has
delicate feelings and when he’s out of sorts he makes mistakes.
Don’t you, boy.”

Shea startled and did her best to appear
delicate, lowering her eyes before nodding slightly.

Buck said seriously, or as seriously as he
could with his lips twitching. “You never want your scout upset,
sir. They might lead you into a jagger nest or a revenant’s
den.”

Cale gave them a look of disdain before
pulling hard on his reins and riding back the way he’d come. Not
many chanced pissing their scouts off for exactly the reasons Buck
just explained. Out here in the wilderness there were few rules and
it was terrifyingly simple to get away with murder. Beasts were so
prevalent that either scenario would be plausible and unquestioned.
Cale wasn’t all that intelligent to threaten them out in the
open.

“Gods save me from having deal with the lazy
scut ever again,” Buck muttered.

“Watch it, friend,” Eamon warned. “Lazy and
useless he might be, but his brother is the most powerful man in
the army.”

Buck spat to the side. “Half-brother.
Hawkvale would do well to force him to make his own way in the
world rather than letting him ride on his coat tails.”

“He’s related to Hawkvale?” She would never
have guessed. The two couldn’t have been more different. They
looked and acted nothing alike.

“They’re half-brothers,” Phillip said, riding
up.

A new addition to the team, he was on his
first mission with the three. Shea didn’t trust him. He asked too
many questions and saw too much. She had to constantly be on her
guard. Though he made her suspicious nature run rampant, he was
also one of the best trackers she had ever seen.

She could tell the other two weren’t sure of
him either. They were polite, but there was none of the normal easy
joking.

“Either way, just watch yourself,” Eamon
cautioned Buck, “You never know who is listening.”

Both were careful not to look at Phillip, but
it was clear they wanted to change the subject when Buck said,
“What kind of expression was that, Shane?”

“Hey! What the hell?” Shea raised a hand to
her head. “I was trying to look delicate and frail.”

Buck hooted and cackled. “Delicate? You
looked like you were about to take a dump.”

“I did not.”

Eamon roared in laughter. “Yes. Yes, you did.
I thought I was going to fall off my horse trying not to
laugh.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”
Shea muttered, spurring her horse to move faster. “That was my
delicate look.”

The two just roared louder as Shea cantered
away. Rounding the bend, Shea shook her head. Something she had
learned over the years, men could be immature regardless of
age.

“Whoa, halt.”

“Again?” Phillip muttered, pulling on the
reins.

Shea stood in her stirrups, craning her head
to see around the supply wagon in front of them. It was their turn
to pull rear guard while Eamon and Buck scouted in front.

“I’ll ride up and see what’s taking so long,”
she told him.

He nodded, frowning sourly. Her mood echoed
his, though she was careful to keep her face neutral as she rode
down the line looking for the reason for this most recent delay. It
had been one obstacle after another for the past several days, and
the men were getting impatient. Everyone wanted to reach the safety
of camp, and the delays were making them careless.

“What’s the hold up?” she barked as she rode
up to several men gathered at the back of one of the wagons.

“Wheel’s stuck,” a man with a crooked nose
said crossly, gesturing at the wheel in question.

Cale rode up, his expression darkening as he
caught sight of her. “Why are we stopped?”

The glare he shot her said he blamed her for
this delay. She met him with a stony look of her own.

“Wheel’s stuck,” the man said again.

“Well, how long will that take?”

“No idea. It takes as long as it takes.”

“Hurry it up,” Cale said crossly.

“It’ll take as long as it takes,” the man
enunciated clearly. “If you want it to go faster, get down here and
help us dig it out.”

“Just do your job.” Cale whirled his horse
and cantered back to the front.

Shea and the man watched him go with similar
looks of disgust.

“I’m impressed,” she told him.

“I wasn’t always a softie.” He held up one
mangled hand curled into a twisted claw.

Shea winced, the question of what happened
forming in her mind but remaining unspoken.

“Got smashed when a horse trampled it,” he
said with a self-deprecating grimace. “After that, I wasn’t fit to
serve on the lines or in the scouts so they sent me to collect
tithes with all the other sluggards.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “Could be dead or cast out for
being dead weight.”

“Cast out?”

“They do that sometimes when you’re no longer
a productive member of the clan.” He gave her a gap toothed grin
when he saw the horrified look on her face. “They don’t do that so
much anymore, not since Hawkvale took charge. Now, they just send
you to units like these where you can help but not be a burden to
anyone.” A distant look came over his face. “I don’t know which is
worse.”

He shook himself and turned to examine the
stuck wagon. It had veered off the path and wedged itself against a
couple of rocks. One wheel was wedged deep into the mud while the
other was spinning idly in the air.

“Do you need some help? I can push,” Shea
offered.

He snorted. “Your scrawny body would just get
in the way, scout. You just concentrate on finding the best path
out of here.”

She smiled shyly at him. “I’ll do my
best.”

Turning to the men staring at the stuck
wagon, he roared, “Alright you slack abouts, I want this wheel dug
out in the next thirty minutes, and then you’d better be prepared
to push this back onto the road. Next time you veer off the path,
you’ll answer to me.”

A deep war cry filled the air in
response.

Shea rode down the line to Phillip and
informed him of the holdup. He squinted at the sky, the sun sinking
lower and lower by the minute, and sighed.

“We’ll probably be making camp here.”

Shea protested. “Once it’s on the road, we
can make several more miles before dark.”

“If you say so.” The expression on his face
said he didn’t hold out a lot of hope and was just humoring her.
Phillip dismounted. “We might as well stretch our legs while we
wait.”

Seeing the sense in those words, she swung
her leg over and hopped down, letting the reins dangle to the
ground. Trateri horses were well trained, and it wouldn’t run off
unless she called for it. She stepped away, twisting this way and
that to stretch out her back. Down the line, others dismounted as
well with the same purpose. It seemed no one held much hope that
this would be a short delay.

Two hours later Shea had just won her third
game of Bones.

“Looks like it’s time to move,” Phillip
observed as men began heading towards their horses.

Her current opponent groaned. “I was just
about to beat him.”

“Ha,” his friend snorted. “He’s trounced you
every time you’ve played. You’d think you were tired of losing by
now.”

“I was just about to unleash my secret
strategy.”

“I’ll look forward to this ‘secret’ strategy
next time,” Shea teased. “In the meantime be sure to do my chores
when we stop for the night. Oh, and I’ll make sure to get that
piece of jerky from you when we make camp.”

“We won’t be traveling long,” Phillip said as
he prepared his horse for travel. “Just far enough to find a
decently defensible campsite.”

“Fine with me. Every little bit of distance
means we’re that much closer to camp.”

“Not a fan of the warlord’s brother, are
you?”

Shea was silent as she waited for the caravan
to move. It could take a while yet. They probably should have
waited a few minutes before getting back on line because it was the
same old story every time. Everybody rushed to mount and then
waited and waited for the person in front of them to go.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Shea finally said.
“Just prefer to be on missions that have fewer people is all.”

“Oh?” It was a clear invitation to
continue.

The caravan began moving again, and Shea was
saved from answering. Phillip was always poking and prodding,
trying to get people to say more than they should. For someone like
Shea, who preferred to keep her own council, it was an
uncomfortable experience every time he started asking
questions.

When it was clear she had no intention of
answering, he said, “Is it the people you don’t like or is it
collecting tithes from the villages?”

Shea shot him a glance. So that was what he
was after. He gave every semblance of being uninterested in her
answer as he kept his attention on examining the hills.

“Is that what you think?” she finally asked.
“That I care about the villagers? That maybe I’ll lead everybody
into a trap as revenge.”

He shrugged. “It does seem odd that you have
no qualms about working with the people responsible for conquering
your land.”

Logical assumption. If this was her land.

“Hmm. How many villages have you
visited?”

He frowned. “Just these three.”

She gave a cold smile. “So you have no real
idea of what the people of this land are like, then.”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“Everything. What is it your people call
people like me? Throwaways, wasn’t it?”

“I doubt your loyalty is so fleeting as to be
destroyed by a single act of self-preservation,” he responded.

“You know me that well?” Shea said. “Well,
how about this? Do you know what these people do to keep the beasts
from their door?

He didn’t answer.

“They sacrifice men and women, often times
even children, to give themselves a few more days of safety.” Her
laugh was low and ugly and utterly devoid of humor. “Can you
believe that? Ignorant savages think spilling blood can protect
them.” The humor dropped from her face. “It’s what attracts them.
The ironic part is that if they just shared information they might
figure out how useless such acts are. But, no, everyone in this
fucked up land hates everyone else. The only people you can trust
are those that you grew up with. Everyone else is just an outsider.
So they bury their heads and pretend they’re safe if they just stay
behind their fences and walls.”