Chapter 32
How many witches had worn these irons? Rowan wondered.
They were old and crude, two thick cuffs that wrapped around her wrists and a heavy chain about six inches in length to connect them.
The metal was black, slightly pitted. There were symbols scratched into the surface that she didn’t recognize.
She wasn’t sure if the Church had placed them there, or witches who’d worn them while they waited to be branded.
Already, the skin on her wrists chafed. In another day she’d be raw. She wondered if she’d make it out of the woods before the infection set in. Things seemed to become infected easily in the woods.
She hoped Sol was all right. No one would even tell her if he was still alive.
They’d pulled him away from her immediately.
The captain of the patrol had kept the crossbow pointed at her while his men roughly checked her for weapons.
Someone had pressed a blade to her neck while another ran his hands over her body.
Two others had carried Sol off. Another man locked the cuffs around her wrists, and it was only then that the captain had lowered the crossbow.
They’d hauled her beneath the patch of poisoned pine trees with the foul-smelling patchy fog all around. She wanted to sit beneath the alders and try to understand what had happened.
The golden threads…
That strange green light…
The trees had protected her somehow. They’d never done anything like that before.
If Casrian had been here, she might have asked him what he thought, but Casrian wasn’t here. She was stuck with Emrys Shaw, captain of the patrol that had been called in as reinforcements.
The young, black-haired soldier sat across from her on a moss-covered log, studying her with hard, glittering eyes.
She was on the damp ground with moisture seeping through her clothes.
She’d landed in the mud during the fight and was covered in decayed vegetation.
Her hair straggled around her face, and there was a patch of inky blood on her leg from the familiar.
She probably actually did look like a witch.
“What are you doing out here in the woods, Mistress Yahl?”
She dragged in a deep breath. “I told you. Captain Dain hired me to act as his guide when he was separated from his patrol. We found them, but Sol was injured, so I was getting him out. Is Sol all right? I have training as a healer. I can help him.”
Emrys ignored her question. “Where is the lost patrol now?”
“They’re going after the witch. There is a fort—”
Emrys’s green eyes narrowed. “They called for reinforcements. Why wouldn’t they wait?”
“They lost two men,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Another is missing. They worried that if they waited it would be too late for Asher. You can ask Sol if you don’t believe me.”
Unless Sol was dead.
Emrys swept a skeptical look over her. “I was at the Academy with Dain. We’ve served together for years. I’ve never known him to place a civilian in danger unnecessarily. He wouldn’t have hired you as a guide.”
“He didn’t have a choice. There wasn’t anyone else to go. We made a deal that I would show him the way to the old fort. It’s where Casrian thinks the nest is.”
“Casrian? You speak of him with unusual familiarity for a hired guide.”
“We’ve been together for days.”
He raised one black brow. “We are talking about the same man? Tall? Blond hair? Has never once strayed from the letter of the law? You expect me to believe that Casrian Dain would take a civilian guide—a woman—alone with him into the Black Woods?”
“Yes, that Casrian Dain. The one who climbed from his deathbed to go save his men. If you think a pair of breasts was going to stop him, maybe you’re the one who doesn’t really know him.”
Emrys actually smirked at that, but his eyes didn’t soften. “How badly was he injured?”
“He had three gashes across his chest from a familiar’s claws. He lost a lot of blood and the wound became infected. He was unconscious for two days.”
Exasperation crossed his face. “He should have waited.”
“His men were in danger.”
Emrys stared at her for a long moment. “Why would he trust you to go with him?”
“I know the woods. I know the way to the fort.”
Emrys’s brows rose. “Knowing where the witch’s nest is located makes you more suspect, not less. Why would he trust you?”
He seemed genuinely baffled by it. Like Casrian’s trust was a rare commodity and she was clearly unworthy of having it bestowed upon her.
“Maybe he could tell I’m a trustworthy person.”
Emrys scoffed. Before he could ask another question, a young soldier walked up with her bag and set it down at the captain’s feet.
“We recovered the horse,” the soldier reported. “The bag looks to be hers. It’s full of women’s things and potions.”
She huffed in annoyance. “They’re salves, not potions. For healing. There’s a map in there too,” she told the captain. “That’s for you. Casrian asked me to give it to you when you arrived so you could follow him to the nest.”
When the captain reached for the bag, she looked at the young soldier. “Is Sol all right?”
The younger man eyed her with open curiosity. “The medic is looking at him now.”
“My horse?”
“Winded, but unhurt.”
Emrys’s green eyes flicked up in annoyance. “You may go private.”
A blush touched the young soldier’s neck, and he nodded stiffly.
Emrys rifled through her bag. The jars of carefully packed salves clacked together.
Surely he would see the bandages too. He found the map and pulled it out, unrolled it, and signaled to a soldier standing behind her.
A lantern was brought forward and placed at the captain’s feet.
The soldier resumed his post behind her, presumably to kill her if she tried doing anything witchy.
Cold settled into her body as the rush of energy from the fight faded. She clamped her jaw against her chattering teeth and tightened her shoulders.
Without looking up from the map, Emrys said, “Someone get her a blanket.”
A heavy weight fell on her shoulders, but for some reason that only made the shaking worse.
After a moment, Emrys folded the map and leaned forward. “Tell me about the nest.”
She told him the same thing she’d told Casrian about the fort, but she resented every moment that they sat there talking. Casrian and his men could be there now, fighting the witch, and they were still hours away. They’d already wasted too much time.
Before the captain finished questioning her, another soldier approached. The captain nodded for him to speak.
“The wound is infected, but it was treated properly. It will heal better once he’s away from the corruption.” The man, who must be the medic, glanced her way. “You sewed him up?”
She nodded.
“It was good work.”
The captain gestured toward her bag. “Take a look at the jars in there.”
The medic crouched beside her bag and took out the salve her mother had made. “Yarrow,” he said. “Smells clean.” The other he didn’t even open, just tossed in his hand. “This is one of ours. Probably from Asher’s stock.”
When the captain looked at her again, there was more speculation and less hostility in his expression. “How long ago did you part ways?”
“We left them at dawn.” The sun was beginning to set now. “They’ve probably already reached the fort by now.”
He nodded sharply as if coming to some decision. To the medic, he said, “Have your apprentice take Dain’s man back to Sulen. I can’t spare you.”
“I can go with him,” she said. “My home is closer, and my mother is a better healer than I am. We can take care of him there.”
The captain frowned at her. “You’re talking about the squatter’s camp at the edge of the woods.”
Her jaw tightened. “I’ve heard it called that, yes. It’s got a name—Toam.”
“The healer there is a branded witch. Is that your mother?”
She nodded, and he looked less than pleased with her response. She doubted it would do her any good to try to convince him that the brand had been an awful mistake, so she held her tongue.
“We relocated everyone in the village,” he said. “She’s not there.”
Fear pooled in her belly. “What do you mean by relocated?”
He waved a dismissive hand as if he wasn’t talking about a disaster. “They were too close to the edge of the woods. We couldn’t spare anyone to escort them, but most of them headed to Sulen. You’ll likely find your mother there.”
“My mother is blind,” she said tightly.
“Surely someone will help her.”
She felt sick. Her mother couldn’t make it to Sulen on her own.
Her whole world was the house and her garden.
She only left when called to a birth or sickbed.
And that was always on Rowan’s arm to make sure she made it safely.
Tilly would have trouble walking all the way to Sulen.
How was she supposed to get her mother there? George would be useless.
Her voice trembled with anger when she spoke. “Do you think we’d be living in Toam if there was someone to help her?”
Captain Shaw rubbed at a spot on his forehead. “Until the witch is killed, no one is safe anywhere near the woods. Casrian should have evacuated the village before he went after his patrol.”
“Send me with Sol then.” She needed to find her mother. “I’ll make sure he gets there.”
The captain shook his head as he climbed to his feet.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that. You’re involved in this infestation.
Until I better understand exactly what role you’ve played here, you’re coming with us.
” To his man, he said, “Find her a place to sleep for the night but put a watch on her. The irons stay on for now.”
She shot to her feet. The weight of the irons overbalanced her, and she stumbled forward a step. A hard hand caught her arm and pulled her back, away from the captain.
“This is ridiculous,” she shouted. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”
Emrys’s lips thinned into a grim line. “Let’s hope so.”