Chapter 3 #2
The Red River had risen in the last few hours, but the rushing water did nothing to drown out my pounding heart. The woods swallowed the light, blackness pressing in like the open mouth of a cave. Taking a deep breath and forcing my feet to move, I left the river’s roar behind me.
Soon, sweat was running down my back, and every dark shrub or oddly shaped tree in the quiet woods felt like it was watching me.
A snapping sound had me quickly crouching behind a tree, cursing myself for leaving my bow behind. I squatted until my thighs and calves screamed in protest. No matter how hard I strained my eyes, I could not find what had made that sound.
I took in a steadying breath to push back the tears that threatened to choke me. My feet were stuck to the forest floor with fear until the smell of wood smoke hit my senses. It was faint, but it hung in the air before me. It thickened, and before I knew it, I was moving again.
I crept up to the outskirts of the clearing and waited for my eyes to adjust to the brightness of the campfires. One large tent sat across the other side of the camp. Smaller tents were grouped to the right, along with several horses.
When I drew close, I saw three men dressed in leather vests and breeches, with red capes attached to their shoulders. Soldiers of some kind.
They were drinking from jugs, and leftover food was scattered around them. I strained my ears to hear the conversation floating towards me.
‘He had better leave some for us,’ the man in the centre of the group said as he motioned to the large tent. The man was missing an ear and half his nose had collapsed in. The other two men could be brothers and were lanky and unwashed. They both nodded and grumbled in agreement.
Another man came into view. This man was much younger than the others. He didn’t join the group but sat to the side alone as he ate his meal.
‘He better not kill this one before I get a turn!’ The one-eared soldier tossed an empty jug at the fire, sending sparks up into the night air.
‘You could always do what the captain does and use a boy to warm your cock tonight,’ said one of the skinny men.
There was a glint of steel as the one-eared soldier pulled out a knife and stabbed it into the skinny man’s hand as it rested on the ground between them. He yelled in pain.
I fought back a cry. I would recognise my father’s knife anywhere.
The last time I’d seen it was on my mother’s belt, and now it was stuck in a screaming man’s hand.
A fight broke out between all three men while the young soldier sitting alone continued eating as though nothing unusual was happening.
This was my opportunity to move unseen. I needed to make my way to the large tent; I had to know if my mother was in there or not.
I ran, keeping low and close to the tree line to avoid being seen.
I could hear the one-eared soldier demanding the knife back.
My father’s knife. The man he stabbed had pulled it out of his bloodied hand and was madly waving it about.
I took one step towards the tent when an arm wrapped around my waist, and a hand slapped over my mouth.
Taken by surprise, I was dragged into the trees before my brain kicked into gear. I kicked and twisted my body as much as I could, but my assailant was too strong.
‘Shh, little girl!’
A face in the darkness neared mine, and a familiar mop of curly brown hair came into focus. One of the boys from the river. I guessed the scarred boy was the one holding me with arms of steel.
‘If he sees you, he will kill you – or worse,’ the curly-haired boy whispered urgently.
I stopped trying to fight as my captor’s grip tightened and I struggled to breathe.
‘Good, good. We aren’t trying to hurt you. Understand?’
I stared hard at the stupid boy. I don’t know how he expected me to answer when I couldn’t breathe or move. Stars filled my vision, and my arms – squeezed against my chest – were becoming numb.
‘Tor, let her go. She’s going to pass out!’
‘If you so much as make a sound or try to run, I will end you,’ my captor whispered in my ear, then let me go.
I fell to the ground and looked up to meet the dark, stony stare of the scarred boy named Tor. The curly-haired boy, who seemed the friendlier of the two, reached out a hand to help me up, but I batted it away and stood on my own, ignoring my shaking legs.
He gave me a broad smile that I didn’t trust. ‘I’m Atlas, and this friendly fellow is Torgrin.’
Torgrin and Atlas. I surveyed them, trying to decide what to do. I tasted the metallic tang of blood as I gnawed on my bottom lip. Torgrin fixated on my face while Atlas leaned casually against a tree, waiting for me to make my next move.
‘I’m searching for my mother. Those men … they had her knife. She might be in that tent.’ I said finally, pointing behind me to where the white canvas of the tent could still be seen between the trees.
I tried to read the boys’ faces as they looked at each other. Torgrin’s expression became darker, and Atlas’ smile disappeared.
Atlas shook his head at Torgrin, who then looked back at me.
‘You can’t save everyone, Tor,’ said Atlas.
A tremendous roar filled the night, and we hurried to the tree line. A man’s angry voice was coming from the tent, along with whimpers and muffled screams.
Out came a woman with her hands tied behind her back. I tried to blink the sight away, tried to see her as I knew her.
This sobbing woman with cuts carved deep in her arms and chest, as if someone had angrily scribbled over her with something sharp, couldn’t be my gentle, quiet mother.
I wanted to scream, but all that came out was a little noise, barely a whimper.
As though she’d heard me, she turned her head towards the trees and her gaze locked with mine, bright crimson blood dripped from a wound above her wide eyes.
My legs froze, and my heart pounded painfully against my ribs.
‘Caris?’ It was my mother’s voice, but not how I’d ever heard it. ‘Run, Caris!’ she screamed as she stumbled away from the tent.
A monstrous, black-bearded man wearing nothing but half-laced breeches appeared behind her. Mother began running towards the safety of the trees. My legs unfroze, and I ran to meet her, but she was slow, tripping over her torn skirt.
I was only an arm’s length away when she stumbled forward. Blood poured out of her mouth as she choked on my name.
I reached my mother’s side as the light left her eyes. A broadsword was buried deep in her back.
‘Mother!’ I screamed and lunged for the sword, but it was as tall as me, and I couldn’t pull it out from the handle.
My grief and fury knew no reason as I tried to pull the sword out by the blade.
The iron sliced through my palms and I felt it reach the bone.
Feeling no pain, I pulled with all my strength.
I would take the sword and kill the man who was bearing down on me and my dead mother.
My mother’s killer smiled as he strode towards me. His eyes were terrifying, a blue so pale they made his pupils look like black pinpoints.
Out of nowhere, the young soldier appeared beside me and pulled the sword from my mother’s motionless body. My hands – useless and damaged – were unable to stop him.
I stared up at the young soldier with burning eyes. But instead of using it on me, he pushed me behind him and pointed the sword at my mother’s killer.
‘Get her out of here!’ he yelled at the boys who were now trying to pull me away from my mother. Something solid hit the back of my skull, and I fell into nothingness.
I halted as my voice had grown hoarse, and my mouth dry. Cillian rose from his stool and fetched some water. I took a long drink, appreciating the cool liquid on my raw throat.
His fingers grazed my knee briefly, and I didn’t feel the usual instinct to withdraw from the touch.
‘What happened to your mother … and for you to be so young …’ He reached out to brush away a tear from my cheek. ‘I’m sorry this happened to you. If I could take your pain as mine, I would.’
‘Thank you,’ I whispered, covering his hand with my own.
‘Who knocked you out?’ Cillian asked, his brow furrowed.
‘Atlas did.’ I shrugged. ‘I was beyond reason, and it was the only way they could get me to leave my mother’s body.’ I looked down at my gloved hands hiding the scars on my palms.
‘The young soldier who helped you. What happened to him?’
‘I don’t know. The next thing I remember is waking up in the woods with Torgrin and Atlas.’
‘They helped you escape?’ Cillian asked.
‘Yes.’
‘And the man who killed your mother?’
‘I don’t even know his name,’ I said. Cillian studied me. ‘What is it?’
‘The soldiers around here aren’t trustworthy. I know they saved your life when they were children, but they are not simply soldiers. They are captains of an army. I don’t think you should seek them out or draw their attention.’
‘Have you heard something about them?’
‘No, but I’ve had to deal with soldiers like them in the past.’
‘Your wife?’
‘Yes.’ Cillian rubbed his shoulder, grief flashing across his features.
‘But they may know something. Like where their old captain is.’
‘Caris.’ Cillian’s face paled. ‘You wouldn’t do anything dangerous, like go after him?’
Hellfire. I’m going to have to lie to him. ‘Of course not.’