Chapter 13 #2
They continued for another half mile, when she spotted what they had set out to find.
“Look,” she said, pointing to a small clearing with a firepit at the center.
She felt a prickle of adrenaline run up her back.
Philippe moved in front of her as they crept in.
Upon coming closer, she realized that the campsite was not abandoned.
Supplies were still laid out and ready for use.
Philippe held his arm out to keep her back.
When he was satisfied that it was unoccupied, he waved her over.
“They could return at any moment,” he said to her, holding his finger up to his lips.
Warning bells went off in her head. Alex was aware that the situation could become very dangerous very quickly and she took every step with care as she skirted the camp.
Finding information on these foes was critical, but there were more of them than she and Philippe could handle.
Philippe was less cautious, using his boot to kick over a rucksack and nudge through its contents.
She noted that he probably never had to move with much caution, whereas for Alex, caution was what kept her alive.
If she were alone, she would have gotten far away from here.
But she wouldn’t impede Philippe’s search, so she countered her fear with her practicality.
She looked around for a sapling and worked it into a quick knot, enough to give someone trouble if he came too close. Then she wrapped another and another.
As she worked, she spied the hilt of a pistol tucked into someone’s bag.
She stepped towards the pack and pulled it from its cover.
As she did, she spilled a box of black powder into the dirt.
She hadn’t seen many pistols. They were usually confined to military operations.
The ones she had seen were owned by noblemen.
She held the pistol in her hands, perplexed.
Philippe came over to her. “What did you find?”
“They’re carrying pistols,” she said.
“That makes no sense.” He bent to run his fingers through the blackened dirt. “Why would they be pillaging for trifles if they can afford pistols?”
A sudden string of voices coming from the trees at the other side of the camp clipped their speculating.
Philippe grabbed Alex by the arm to pull her back away from the clearing.
In a panic, she realized she still held the pistol and tossed it back towards the bag from where she had plucked it.
Philippe moved fast and she was barely able to get her footing before they went over a tangle of branches and down a slope.
He looked around and indicated that she duck into the small cavity created between the two fallen trees.
Her instinct was to run. There was a ravine not far away, but she didn’t know how many men were coming or how skilled they were at tracking.
Besides, the look on Philippe’s face meant he was not to be questioned, so she crouched down and reclined into the recess.
Philippe slid next to her. They were side by side, angled towards each other, with just enough room to be concealed.
Philippe situated a fallen branch to hide them.
There were six, seven, eight men, she heard, rasping in a dialect of the north.
She didn’t understand everything they said, but among their grunts and shouts was the tail end of a conversation about Philippe’s party, who they had been observing move from town to town.
As the men rattled on, she hoped the disturbances she and Philippe had made in the camp would go unnoticed, but shortly thereafter, someone balked.
His pistol had been tossed into the dirt and he was busy accusing the others of trying to steal it.
Then another shouted that his things had been disturbed too, and suddenly there was silence.
Alex looked up to Philippe as he clenched his jaw. “Just don’t move,” he mouthed.
She heard the zing of metal blades coming out of sheathes as boots skidded down the slope behind them.
Alex smelled the dust from the dirt as they came closer.
She squeezed her eyes shut, preparing herself to fight.
Once, when she was new to this life, she had been chased by a group of men and she ended up hiding under the floorboards of a well house.
They’d given up and left the area not long after, but it was three days before Alex could bring herself to leave.
The fear of being captured had paralyzed her.
And that same fear had the potential to come back to her anytime she found herself outnumbered.
She could take two, maybe three, but not more, surely not more than that.
She breathed through her nose, trying to calm herself, as she ran through moves and techniques she could use to protect herself.
She never dared to think about what could happen to a woman on her own like she was, but in these moments, when she was immobilized, it was hard not to think of what could become of her.
Despite her best efforts, she felt her body begin to shake.
She realized, this time, she wasn’t alone as she felt his arms wrap around her.
She closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder, taking the moment to snatch this small chance at comfort.
She would hate for him to think of her as weak or scared.
Part of her was embarrassed and would have pushed him off, but his gesture was kind.
And in that moment, she needed the relief. Her tremors began to subside.
Outside the men crushed through the brush and dirt around them. She heard them move out and then near the hovel where they hid. Philippe’s hand went to his sword as they waited to be uncovered. Alex braced herself to attack.
Suddenly, a loud crack rang through the forest, snapping Alex to alertness. She and Philippe looked at each other, wide-eyed. Her snare!
She heard as the men scrambled back toward their camp. “We have to move. Now,” whispered Philippe as the rebels behind them shouted confused accusations at each other.
“There’s a ravine. Due East.” Alex said. “Ten minutes and some luck.”
He nodded, his eyes intent and focused on her. “I’ll follow you.”
They slipped out from the hiding spot. With Alex in the lead, they moved forward, darting between areas of cover.
The shouts and clangs rang out behind them as the rebels spread out looking for the intruders.
For a moment Alex felt their pursuit, but by their sounds and noises she could tell they had no focus or direction.
She and Philippe kept moving until they finally came to the ravine.
Philippe skidded to the edge and lowered himself down to the first ledge.
He held out his hand to Alex and she scooted down alongside him.
They continued the twenty feet of descent and then rested, out of breath.
“Do you hear them?” Alex whispered, still cautious.
“Not anymore,” he responded.
“They didn’t seem all that bright.”
“They’re not revolutionaries,” he said. “They’re mercenaries.”
“How do you know?”
“They speak an uneducated dialect. They’re poor, yet they have expensive weapons. Someone hired them.”
“You think someone hired them to attack the villages?” she asked.
“Yep,” Philippe said, his eyes fixed towards the north. “Now we have to figure out who.”
After another hour of quiet and careful movement, they circled back and found their horses.
It was nearly dusk by then and with great relief they greeted and mounted the beasts, their weary bodies eager to be carried for a while.
They trotted through the sparse trees that lead to the valley and hit a full gallop once they reached the flat earth.
Alex was wiped out, and she still felt the effects of the adrenaline ticking through her body.
She watched him as he rode in front of her.
Always determined, always moving forward.
She envied him having that kind of direction.
She appreciated the compassion he had shown her.
Maybe he wouldn't be such a bad friend to have after all, she thought, as she urged her horse forward.