Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ganbold. Warrior. Hunter.
He watched as the boy tore through the trees. Ganbold stood up with excited anticipation.
“They’re moving,” the boy gasped. “Northeast. To a trapper’s cottage. We’ll be very few.”
“I know the cottage,” he affirmed, giving one sharp nod. “I passed the land.”
“There is a stream,” the boy rasped, still catching his breath. “I can get her to follow me. Michel will follow her.”
“Chi bol baatar,” Ganbold acknowledged. “You are a warrior.”
The boy stared and then gave a satisfied smile.
“Go, now,” Ganbold ordered.
The boy nodded, scampering off.
Ganbold stood, feet spread, hands fisted at his hips. He heard the voices of the ancestors singing for him. He thought of returning to his tribe with the shame of the woman and the head of the Frenchman. Perhaps he would make her carry it.
And then, Ganbold would be given his bride. He would hold her once more.
“I will be ready,” Ganbold said to himself as he watched the horizon.
A few hours later, they traveled the road to Malik’s home.
Eve had learned that Malik was tribal, so she convinced Michel to let her come.
She could help him make the deal, she was sure of it.
The company had been reduced to the bare minimum.
Michel, Eve, the few guards Michel had been able to gather, and Terence, who insisted he not be left back with the others.
Renault had given Michel specific instructions on where to find the hermit.
They traveled through a sparse sweetgum tree forest to reach the cottage.
The tall sweetgums, mixed with flowering pistachio trees and wineberry bushes, created a shady green trail, sweet with the scent of flower buds.
Eve could see that Michel moved on pure anger and desperation at this point, insulted and humbled.
All his plans had collapsed. She wished she could ease him, that she could somehow use her influence as the Khan’s daughter to ensure Michel’s success, but out here, this far from her home, she was not sure if she had value in that way.
Still, she had her own charisma, and Michel’s now too.
Together, how could Malik deny the connection?
They were coming up to a slope which dipped down into a stream that thrashed through the rocks. Terence had been whining that he needed to relieve himself for some time. Finally, Michel threw his hands up.
He pulled the reins on his horse. “Take your rest,” he called to the party. “Five minutes!”
Michel came over and helped Eve down off her horse, while Terence scampered down to the stream. “I’ll fill the water sacks,” she said, pulling them from the saddlebags.
She stepped carefully down the slope to reach the stream. Terence had already gone up aways. “Terence,” she called. “Finish up, then stay where I can see you.”
She sank the containers into the cold water. She looked back over her shoulder to see the boy wandering down the stream.
On the trail above her, Michel spoke with one of the guards as he watched her, instructing the man to go up ahead to check for problems.
Down the way, Terence was still slipping along with the stream. Eve saw his back as he wove into the trees, disappearing. “Terence!” she called again, annoyed that he was dawdling.
“I’m just here!” he called.
“Terence, come back, I wish to return.” She’d lost her visual of him. She listened for the rustling of his feet in the brush or his call to her, but she heard nothing. She set the water sack aside and took a few steps downstream. “Terence?” she called again. She felt needles of worry.
“Eve!” came her name, this time with urgency.
She called out to the boy again. She looked up over the hill to see if Michel was coming yet. She was arrested in what to do: go after Terence or stay and wait for Michel. Then she heard Terence call her name again, his voice desperate and afraid.
He had fallen, she thought. She would need to get to him. Her body moved to run to him, but she turned to call to Michel. She feared being far from him, despite the worry she felt for Terence. That silly boy was a constant danger to himself.
“Michel!” she called again, hoping her voice carried. She forced herself to wait until she saw Michel come over the crest of the slope. “Terence is calling,” she yelled back. “I believe he has fallen.” She ran down the path, toward Terence’s cries.
Michel shouted behind her, but Eve was sure Terence was just over the next ledge. She had just had her eyes on him. She came upon the ridge and looked through the trees, but she did not see him.
She called his name again. She didn’t go further now and instead waited for Michel to catch up to her. When he did, he grabbed her arm. “Eve, we can’t be out here, this far from the guards.”
“Yes, I know,” she said. “Terence was just here.” She trailed off. “He could be hurt.” Then she heard Terence’s voice call her name again. She jumped to run, but Michel grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
“Stop,” he said. He drew his sword and edged forward. “What was he doing?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, feeling frantic, prickles of fear running down her back. Fear for Terence, fear for the sudden oddity to the situation. “He was at the stream, and then he was gone.”
“Terence,” Michel called out. “Come out right now.” When there was no response, he turned to Eve and said with even words, “We are going to go back to rejoin the men. We cannot be out here chasing him through the forest.”
“You’re right,” she agreed. She didn’t want to leave Terence, but something was off.
“I’ll come back with a few of the guards,” Michel replied.
Eve nodded and went to turn, but then she saw something that made her freeze in her place. Just around the slope of the earth, past a few tall sweetgums, she saw Terence.
Standing next to Ganbold.
The sight ignited the prickles down her neck, making them burn with fire. At first, she thought that Terence had been captured. Then she saw the boy look down as he shuffled his feet. She understood. Terence had decided to place his loyalty with the wrong man.
“Terence,” Michel said. “Get over here.”
Terence shook his head.
Michel’s sword was out and at the ready. His stance changed. She knew he would fight, despite this effectively ending any chance left he had with Malik and the tribes.
“Eve, confirm for me,” Michel said to her. His voice was steady. “Is Terence an ally?”
“No, it appears he is not.” She shook her head. Terence’s betrayal gripped her, though somehow, she still felt for the boy.
Panic gripped her. This fight would be too much. Darkness came into her from the edges of her feelings. She didn’t want this to happen. She wanted Michel to make his deal and for them to return together to France. They had been so close.
Michel made to move forward. Eve reached out and touched his arm.
“Michel,” she said. She wanted to tell him not to fight, to run. To get away, leave her to her fate because she understood now that she couldn’t escape it. But all she was able to sputter out was, “Don’t…don’t let him get his hands on you.”
“I won’t, Eve,” he said, solemnly.