Torn: Bound Trilogy Book Two (21 page)

W
e rose
early and set off for the village, expecting to find the idyllic-looking rural community I’d seen the evening before. Instead, we found the place in turmoil. People leaned out from the windows of their stone-walled houses at the outskirts of town, yelling in Cressian accents so thick I found it hard to understand what they were saying. Others ran from door to door, spreading news, gathering a crowd that headed toward the square I’d seen the night before.

We’d passed the outer buildings of the town before a large man in blue coveralls with a pitchfork resting over his shoulder noticed us.

“Not a good time to visit, strangers,” he called, sounding suspicious but not hostile.

“What is it?” Cassia asked, and stepped toward him. “Is it a dragon?”

The man looked twice at her before answering. “No, miss. Local trouble, and soldiers—emissaries, they call themselves—from the south causing additional problems.”

Cassia tossed her hair back over her shoulder and pasted a look of sweet concern on her face. “That’s terrible. Why are they here? Are we in danger?”

“It’s nothing to worry about, miss. Same as it is everywhere, them thinking they have a right to every powerful Sorcerer and Potioner we’ve got. It’s just complicated now. Town business, though, and I shouldn’t speak on it. You understand.”

“We were looking for lodging. What town is this?” Cassia asked.

“Arberg,” the man said, looking back over his shoulder, where footsteps approached from around the corner of the building. “I’d suggest moving on down the road. Trint might be a better place for you, and you’ll make it there before nightfall.” He drummed his fingers against the handle of the pitchfork.

“Thank you,” Cassia said, and came back toward us. The man stared at her as she walked away. He saw me watching him and shrugged, then went back to his post at the front of the building.

Kel and I followed Cassia into a narrow alleyway between houses, away from the commotion.

“So what do we do?” Cassia asked. “Move on? He said Trint’s just down the road, and that’s where your uncle said to go. But then, what’s to say they stayed there? I’d have moved on if I were your mother. Made myself disappear, changed my name and my daughter’s. If the soldiers are here for someone with magical gifts…”

“Right,” I said. “My mother had no power of her own, so it has nothing to do with her. My father never would have let her take my sister if she showed any sign of talent. It’s unlikely that she’s a Sorceress. A Potioner, maybe.” My mother’s mother had been a Potioner. The potential for skill in her children was there.

“Soldiers from Luid could be looking for you, though,” Kel said. “Maybe not specifically, but they’ll have their eyes open. Might be best to avoid them. It’s up to you.”

“I suppose we get closer and see what’s going on,” I said. “We’ll stay out of sight and head toward the square to see what’s happening.”

Cassia and I moved ahead, but Kel hung back. Cassia turned to him. “You coming?”

He leaned out to look down the street behind us. “I’ll catch up. Try to stay out of trouble, both of you.”

By the time we’d made our plans, our section of town had quieted. It seemed news had spread quickly, and anyone who was going to the square was already there. Cassia and I stayed close to the buildings and out of sight of the few townspeople now roaming the streets, cutting across alleys and quiet side streets when we needed to, working our way toward the town square I’d seen the night before. When we reached it, we hung back in the shadows of a dark alley between a pair of shops.

The scene we found was nothing like what I’d expected.

The crowd, a hundred people at most, was divided down the middle of the square, and the groups stood facing each other, all clenched fists and angry glances. The larger group was made up of townsfolk, wearing clothing that was plain but well made, suited for work. One of their own stood in the middle, her hands bound behind her back with rough rope, face invisible to us behind the black hair that hung tangled over her face. Her plain, cream-colored dress was stained with dirt—or perhaps dried blood—around the hem, her heavy boots scuffed.

I pulled back farther into the shadows. The other group wore uniforms, dirty with travel, but bearing Severn’s flame insignia. There was no reason for them to be there looking for me, unless my uncle had reported me after all.

“Ye can’t take her,” called an older man wearing suspenders and a collared shirt. “This woman stands accused and convicted of murder in cold blood. She killed her own husband. Poisoned him.”

“She kilt my brother!” added a woman’s voice. “I told 'im he should never have married a Posh’nur from away! 'e was a good man! She don’t deserve to live!”

“And she won’t,” concluded the older man. “She’s set to choose the manner of her death, her own in payment for her husband’s, as the law demands. Blood for blood, gentlemen. I don’t know how you do it down where you come from, but it’s how it goes here. I’m sorry.”

A man I recognized stepped forward from the group of soldiers. He was a member of Severn’s personal guard at one time, red-haired and frequently smirking, as though everything amused him. He wore the same expression now. Regus the Red, they’d called him.

“Is that so, Mayor? Well, I’m sorry, too, but we’re taking her with us. It is unfortunate that we didn’t arrive in time to save her husband’s life.”

“Ye’re a year late for that!” the woman screeched.

Regus ignored her. “If you hand her over quietly, we’ll make repayment for your loss as is appropriate. We only recently received word that you had a talented Potioner living in this area, and it took us a while to find her. You should have reported her. You knew that Sorcerers and Potioners were required to register in Luid.”

The mayor’s back straightened, and his chin jutted forward. “We’re not accustomed to forcing people to go where they do not wish, unless they’re prisoners. That would have been her own decision. You’re too late now, though.”

The crowd, which had now grown slightly and included the man who’d stopped us earlier, murmured its agreement.

“Are we?” Regus stepped toward the prisoner, and she stepped back. One of the townsmen standing behind her stepped forward to grab the rope that bound her wrists.

“What do you think, pretty one?” Regus asked. “Stay here and die, or come with us and work for Lord Severn? If you do your work well you’ll be taken care of, treated much better than I think you’ve been here. Hot meals, hot baths, warm bed, challenging work. I guarantee safe passage there, no need to worry about these fellows who are with me—as long as you behave, of course.”

She raised her head to look at him, trembling—I thought with fear, but when she spoke, it was rage that burned in her voice. “I’d rather die than serve him.” Her skin was pale, and she was finer-featured than the townspeople who surrounded her. She spoke with a slight northern accent, tinged with something else.

Cassia gripped my arm hard, but I didn’t turn away to look at her.

Regus drew in a deep breath, and the self-satisfied smirk dropped from his face, replaced by irritation. “That seems to be the choice they’re giving you, isn’t it? Death, or service.”

The mayor stepped forward, and Regus drew his sword and pointed it at the man’s chest. “Stay back. This is the king’s business now, not yours. We’re taking her.” He turned back to the woman. “Let me say this again. You either accept our offer, or we assume that you’re a traitor and we take you to Luid anyway and have you tried and executed. I promise you will not be allowed to choose the manner of your death, and it is never pleasant in a case like this.”

“You can’t do this!” the mayor yelled. His face turned bright red. “We have laws!”

“And I have my sword and my soldiers,” Regus said, smirking again. “I win. Come on, lads. The lady rides with me.”

The mayor continued his ineffectual blustering, but Regus stepped forward and took the rope binding the woman’s hands. He pulled her roughly toward him, then dragged her, stumbling, toward the rest of his troops.

“What are we going to do?” Cassia hissed into my ear.

“I don’t know.” I pulled back and leaned against a stack of crates. “If it was just the townsfolk, I’d be less inclined to intervene.”

“Why?”

“They have a right to justice. She killed her husband.”

“Oh, like you’ve never killed anyone’s husband, I’m sure.” She glared at me with her arms crossed.

“But,” I added, “we can’t let her go with the soldiers. No one deserves that.”

“Especially not your sister?”

The words hit me like a slap. “Are you sure?”

“As sure as I can be without speaking to her,” Cassia said. “Something about her tone, her expression. My instincts are usually trustworthy.”

I looked again. The prisoner was arguing with Regus, closer now and facing us so that I could see her face clearly. A thin scar marred her cheekbone, and her loose hair gave her a wild look, but with a little cleaning up she might have fit in among Luid’s high society. She looked nothing like my father. I tried to remember how my mother had looked, but couldn’t. I remembered hair like that, though, black as night.

“I thought a twin would look more like me.”

“Wrong kind of twin,” Cassia said. “What do we do?”

I crouched again. “We can’t let her go.”

“Psst.” We looked up to see Kel standing at the other end of the alley. “I thought these might come in handy.” He held reins in his hand, and when we got closer we found two brown horses and a gray one standing around the corner, docile but alert. He craned his neck to look toward the square. “Should I have taken four?”

Cassia stared at him. “Did you steal those?”

Kel smiled sheepishly. “Would you be disappointed in me if I said yes?”

“Hardly.”

“Oh. Well, I was going to, but I changed my mind and left some money in one of the stalls.”

Cassia’s mouth quirked into a smile. “My dear brother. You’ll steal a poor farm-girl’s heart, but not a few horses.”

He sighed.“I thought we weren’t talking about that.”

I took the gray’s reins from Kel. The horses were saddled and ready, and I swung onto the big mare’s back. “We need to go before that meeting breaks up and they find their horses missing.”

Kel and Cassia mounted, swinging their legs awkwardly over the horses. They moved so naturally on land that I often forgot how unfamiliar much of it was to them.

“We’re leaving her?” Cassia asked.

“Temporarily,” I said. “There’s no way we’re going to get her away from a hundred people, with more waiting in their houses to help if trouble arrives. A dozen men will be easier to handle, even if they’re armed.”

I turned my horse and led the way back through the side streets. With everyone occupied at the square, the roads remained empty.

We urged the horses into a canter and made for the dark forest outside of town, then tied the horses to trees and found a place where we could watch without being seen ourselves.

It wasn’t a long wait. The soldiers exited the town, riding horses branded with a flame on their hindquarters. The woman rode side-saddle in front of Regus, struggling to maintain her balance with her hands still tied behind her. Regus was laughing, and had his sword drawn, wet and dark with blood.

“Unbelievable,” Kel whispered.

The men and their captive turned south and west down the road, which curved into the woods farther on. We retrieved our horses and cut through the forest with some difficulty, aiming to find a place where we expected to meet the road. When we did, there was no sign of them. No fresh tracks.

I opened my mind to them, and hesitated as Phelun’s words about touching people’s minds came back to me.

Don’t be an idiot
, I told myself.
They’re enemies.

I caught their presence before the sound of hoofbeats reached us. “Off the road,” I ordered.

We hurried into the trees. The pine forest was difficult to get through, but the trees hid us well once we got behind them.

Voices and slow hoof beats approached. I reached out again and caught tiny glimpses of the thoughts at the forefronts of their minds as the soldiers came into view. Most of the men were thinking things not worth repeating. A few searched for a campsite. Likely they were all supposed to be doing the same, but we humans are so easily distracted by a fine form and a pretty face.

“It’s them,” I whispered. “Let them pass. We’ll find them when they make camp.”

We followed at a distance that allowed me to track them while staying out of sight. I wanted to help that woman—my sister, if Cass was right—but I wasn’t going to risk my friends’ lives for her.

Their voices became louder as they made camp, calling out to each other. Regus ordered his underlings around, and others shouted to those who had gone to find firewood. Kel, Cassia and I left our horses and moved closer.

“Wait,” Cassia whispered, and darted silently back to her horse to take something from her bag. She returned to us, stuffing a long object into her pocket.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Dragon flare.”

I’d hoped that most of the men would have dispersed as they made camp, but they were sticking close, setting up tents and taking food out of sacks. The young woman was in the middle of it all, seated serenely on a tree stump, watching the goings-on around her. I didn’t think she was missing much of what was happening, but she didn’t appear to see us.

“Still too many,” I said. “We could try rushing in, or I could change and attack, but either way I can’t handle more than a few at a time. And you—”

“Are probably not much help fighting on land,” Kel said. “I know. I don’t think they’ll agree to move this party to a lake.”

Cassia worked the slender item out of her pocket. “People around here use these to draw dragons away from their homes and livestock. Light it up, I’ll throw.”

I hesitated. If a dragon came, we were as likely to die as the soldiers were. Still, the flare itself would be a distraction that might get us past the soldiers.

“Away from the camp,” I said. “Lead them away from us.”