She was running. Her lungs were burning, yelling at her to slow down, but she would not give in. Her muscle's were screaming for a break, but she would not let them.
She glanced behind her to see the man with the scar chasing her. She changed her course, trying to get some space between them, not easy considering he was on horseback and she was on foot.
She glanced back once more, a quick look that she regretted soon after.
In that one look, she saw that the horse he was riding was Krennan, her Krennan. In that one look, she saw all the details that stuck in her memory, allowing her to see the full scene without looking.
She saw the whip marks on her horse's neck, and that wrenched her heart to know that he had been put through hell.
She changed her course again, heading as far away from him as she could.
She ran to the left and doubled back for a little while before heading right, doing everything in her power to get away. But in vain.
She came across a clearing and ran for it, only to come to a cliff face. She cursed her stupidity.
She turned to run back, but her path was blocked by the man and the brainwashed Krennan. She would not beg for her life, she would not plead with Krennan to remember her. From the look in his eyes, he'd forgotten completely and no amount of pleading would change that. Her memory had been beaten from him.
She glanced behind her at the cliff face, at the water below, hitting the sheer wall and then sliding back out into the sea again.
She heard laughter and looked back at the man. He was letting Krennan walk a little closer, into the light so that she could see the face of her murderer. How thoughtful.
"So this is where the chase ends, huh Deanna?" He said, the sunlight showing his scar, purple against his pale face. "You can try to run, if you'd like, I love a good hunt, don't you?"
"I would have thought that obvious, but no one ever accused you of being smart, huh Herndon?" She replied with as much venom as she could muster. He glowered.
"Time to die," He said. "You have nowhere else to go."
"On the contrary, I have many options."
"You have to get through me to go back to the forest, or you can plunge to your death below. I hate to tell you this, but you are trapped, like a rat." He was enjoying this.
"You're only as trapped as you believe you are," She countered before turning and leaping off of the cliff.
*
Deanna sat up, drenched in sweat; she was back at her camp. She looked behind her to see Krennan staring at her.
She couldn't help herself, after the nightmare she had, she hugged him and started crying; glad that it was only a dream and that he was safe.
Soon she'd cried herself out and fell asleep. Krennan watched her for a moment longer before going to sleep himself, glad that his mistress was sleeping soundly again..
* * *
The road seemed to get bumpier as they went.
"Are you sure this is the right way?" Cadman asked for perhaps the twentieth time.
"For the final time, yes." Cayle answered, though on the inside, he wasn't too sure anymore. He'd been told that this was a short cut, but he wasn't too sure now.
He was beginning to suspect that he had been misled, and that the old cod who gave him the directions is having himself a great big laugh right about now at his expense, and Cayle wasn't too happy about that thought.
"Why did you even listen to him? The man was obviously senile." Cadman said unhelpfully.
"Because shut up." Cayle responded sourly, regretting his decision enough without Cadman's help.
"How mature." Cadman muttered before shifting in his seat again, which, in Cayle's frustrated state, was becoming increasingly annoying.
Not for the first time, Cayle wished Cadman would ride with Finn and Alroy, the thought of them making his eyes automatically search them out.
They were riding to the right and a little ahead of him in the other wagon, engaged in what appeared to be an animated conversation.
He heard someone laugh.
At least someone was enjoying themselves, he thought bitterly as Cadman once more shifted in his seat.
* * *
Deanna woke up slowly the next morning, stiff as a board. She sat up and rolled her shoulders in an attempt to loosen her neck. She heard a loud crunch and groaned.
"Ow." She said before getting to her feet to begin packing up.
It took her a moment to realize it was almost noon; and when she did, she dropped her pack in shock.
She glared accusingly at Krennan.
"Why didn't you wake me up?!" She demanded of the horse, who just looked back at her with that patient expression she knew all too well. "Don't give me that look! Now we've lost almost a whole day!"
She ranted for a few more minutes before she finally calmed down enough to begin packing again. "I appreciate you taking care of me Krennan, but we needed that extra day, and now its lost." She explained as she tightened his saddle girths. "Now we're going to have to ride hard in order to make it up."
Krennan neighed softly in response. She was hopeless.
"Oh shut up." Deanna muttered as she mounted.
* * *
They made camp shortly before dark, Cadman taking the first watch, then Cayle, and then Alroy.
Finn protested that he could take a shift, but Cadman wouldn't hear of it, once again sending Finn into a quiet rage which consisted mostly of glaring at Cadman.
When it was his watch, Alroy sat up, staring at the stars, lost in thought. He thought back to the events that led to his meeting this strange group of travelers who were seeking something that he didn't know. He'd overheard Cadman and Cayle talking about a woman who was wanted for some crime that they refused to speak of.
Either it was really bad, or they were afraid someone might be listening in and tried to add more mystery to the whole thing. He assume it was the former.
Not for the first time, he wondered what he'd gotten himself into by running away. Again.
He then got up and woke Cadman for his watch, before rolling up in his blankets and falling asleep.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Chapter 7
Deanna froze as she thought over the facts. Harriet had grieved, right?
She thought back to the moment when she first met her, and how she'd had tears in her eyes, and how she was trying to be brave. Was she really? Or was it a front?
What could she have to gain from killing her own father? It made no sense, but Harriet had to be questioned. There was no going around it.
Deanna dreaded that simply because of how she acted when Deanna suspected that her mother's knife was the murder weapon.
She walked into the kitchen, throwing a glance out the window at the starless night. This was not going to be fun.
* * *
Herndon was sitting at one of the tables, playing with the glass in his hand, lost in thought, when the man found him. He was out of breath, and waited until he was acknowledged before sitting down.
"They bought it." He said, still trying to regain his breath.
Herndon smiled. "Good." Was his only response.
* * *
Deanna sat at a table, discreetly watching Harriet for any sign of regret or remorse, but she was quite the actress.
She watched her wherever she went, carefully examining her features and her posture for some sign of guilt, but she was looking in vain.
Eventually, she cornered Harriet in the kitchen when she went to fix a meal for her mother.
"Why did you kill him?" She asked bluntly. Harriet stared at her in shock for a moment, before recovering and anger quickly took over her shock.
"Excuse me?! I know you did not just accuse me of murdering my own father." She said, her voice like ice.
"You heard me." Deanna said. "Now drop this charade, it's just you and me in here; now tell me why you did it."
"Listen here you interloping, nosy, little wench," Harriet said, every word dripping with venom. "For the last time, I did not kill my father."
She barged past her and back into the dining room.
With the contempt that Harriet had delivered that final statement, Deanna admitted to herself that Harriet wasn't the killer. She may not have been crying like her mother, but she was still grieving.
"Well damn, so much for that lead." She muttered before walking back out into the dining room.
* * *
"She's going to have moved on by the time we get these two so-called 'wagons' over to the town." Cadman complained for the third time in the last ten minutes.
"If you've got any other ideas, I'm all ears." Cayle told him from where he sat in the back of the wagon they shared going over maps of the area.
The other wagon pulled up along side and Alroy jumped down and moved to the back of it.
"What's wrong? Why have you stopped?" Cadman said, his tone suggesting that he was horrified at the thought of stopping, now that they were so close to their goal.
"We've got a loose wheel." Alroy told him from where he was examining it.
"What?!" Cadman practically screamed.
"You heard me." Alroy said. Cadman started cursing, his words getting more and more creative as he went.
"I didn't know that a porcupine's home could be described like that." Finn commented from where he sat on the other wagon, watching Cadman curiously as he cursed.
"Finn, don't listen to him." Cayle said as he climbed out of the back. "Cadman, will you stop already, it's not that big of a deal, it's just a loose wheel, we can tighten it again and then be on our way, no need to get that, uh, creative."
Cadman threw out a few more colorful phrases then fell silent.
"Thank you," Cayle said.
Alroy walked up from checking the wheel, and glanced at Cadman. "I see you finally shut up."
Cadman glared at him but said nothing.
"It's about time too, we do have an impressionable youth with us, and best not to taint him too much." He said it with a smile to try and take any sting out of his words, though his attempt fell upon deaf ears. Cadman glared at him before climbing into the back of the wagon.
"Was it something I said?" Alroy called after him.
Silence was his reply.
* * *
Deanna paced around the barn, her mind thinking quickly through the problem as she anxiously watched the sun rise. Every moment that passed brought her pursuers that much closer to her location.
Krennan snorted loudly, startling Deanna back to reality and away from her thoughts.
She smiled at him and handed him an apple from the bin; she patted his neck as he ate.
"What should I do?" She asked him. "I already messed up thinking that Harriet was the killer. Who else could stand to benefit from the Inn Keeper's de- Oh!" She said. "Of course!"
She kissed his forehead and ran into the Inn, forcing herself to walk before entering. It took all of her will-power to not smile in victory.
Harriet was sitting at the table with her mother, comforting her, when Deanna walked in.
"Now what do you want?" She demanded.
"I know who the killer is." Deanna answered watching them carefully for their reactions.
* * *
"Have you calmed down yet?" Cayle asked; he got a glare in response. "You know, you are taking this way too personal. He didn't mean anything by it, it was just banter; harmless banter."
"I don't like him." Cadman said.
"Just because he made a comment? Geez, aren't you touchy today." Cayle responded.
"No." Cadman said. "I don't like him, not because of what he said. And beside's it wasn't what he said, it was how he said it." The moment the words left his mouth he regretted them.
"Well, well." Cayle said, taking the opening. "Aren't you Mr. Sensitive; I'm sure back home you drive the ladies wild with your sensitivity. Do you cry too?"
"Shut up, Cayle." Was the response, and then, after a moment. "You couldn't have let just one slip by?"
"Would you have let that one slip by had it been me?" Cayle countered.
"No, probably not." Cadman said with a chuckle. "But really, I don't trust him."
"Now it's 'I don't trust him'? What happened to 'I don't like him'?"
"You know what I mean."
"Hey, are you two done yet?" Alroy called.
Cayle turned to talk to him, only to see the wagon carrying Alroy and Finn was stopped some feet behind his own.
"How did you get back there?" He asked.
"The wheel fell off." Finn said. "Some time ago, actually."
"But you two were too busy bantering to notice." Alroy said. "So do you think you could give us a hand?"
Cadman started clapping, getting a glare in return, while Cayle just started chuckling as he turned his own wagon around, heading back towards them.
She thought back to the moment when she first met her, and how she'd had tears in her eyes, and how she was trying to be brave. Was she really? Or was it a front?
What could she have to gain from killing her own father? It made no sense, but Harriet had to be questioned. There was no going around it.
Deanna dreaded that simply because of how she acted when Deanna suspected that her mother's knife was the murder weapon.
She walked into the kitchen, throwing a glance out the window at the starless night. This was not going to be fun.
* * *
Herndon was sitting at one of the tables, playing with the glass in his hand, lost in thought, when the man found him. He was out of breath, and waited until he was acknowledged before sitting down.
"They bought it." He said, still trying to regain his breath.
Herndon smiled. "Good." Was his only response.
* * *
Deanna sat at a table, discreetly watching Harriet for any sign of regret or remorse, but she was quite the actress.
She watched her wherever she went, carefully examining her features and her posture for some sign of guilt, but she was looking in vain.
Eventually, she cornered Harriet in the kitchen when she went to fix a meal for her mother.
"Why did you kill him?" She asked bluntly. Harriet stared at her in shock for a moment, before recovering and anger quickly took over her shock.
"Excuse me?! I know you did not just accuse me of murdering my own father." She said, her voice like ice.
"You heard me." Deanna said. "Now drop this charade, it's just you and me in here; now tell me why you did it."
"Listen here you interloping, nosy, little wench," Harriet said, every word dripping with venom. "For the last time, I did not kill my father."
She barged past her and back into the dining room.
With the contempt that Harriet had delivered that final statement, Deanna admitted to herself that Harriet wasn't the killer. She may not have been crying like her mother, but she was still grieving.
"Well damn, so much for that lead." She muttered before walking back out into the dining room.
* * *
"She's going to have moved on by the time we get these two so-called 'wagons' over to the town." Cadman complained for the third time in the last ten minutes.
"If you've got any other ideas, I'm all ears." Cayle told him from where he sat in the back of the wagon they shared going over maps of the area.
The other wagon pulled up along side and Alroy jumped down and moved to the back of it.
"What's wrong? Why have you stopped?" Cadman said, his tone suggesting that he was horrified at the thought of stopping, now that they were so close to their goal.
"We've got a loose wheel." Alroy told him from where he was examining it.
"What?!" Cadman practically screamed.
"You heard me." Alroy said. Cadman started cursing, his words getting more and more creative as he went.
"I didn't know that a porcupine's home could be described like that." Finn commented from where he sat on the other wagon, watching Cadman curiously as he cursed.
"Finn, don't listen to him." Cayle said as he climbed out of the back. "Cadman, will you stop already, it's not that big of a deal, it's just a loose wheel, we can tighten it again and then be on our way, no need to get that, uh, creative."
Cadman threw out a few more colorful phrases then fell silent.
"Thank you," Cayle said.
Alroy walked up from checking the wheel, and glanced at Cadman. "I see you finally shut up."
Cadman glared at him but said nothing.
"It's about time too, we do have an impressionable youth with us, and best not to taint him too much." He said it with a smile to try and take any sting out of his words, though his attempt fell upon deaf ears. Cadman glared at him before climbing into the back of the wagon.
"Was it something I said?" Alroy called after him.
Silence was his reply.
* * *
Deanna paced around the barn, her mind thinking quickly through the problem as she anxiously watched the sun rise. Every moment that passed brought her pursuers that much closer to her location.
Krennan snorted loudly, startling Deanna back to reality and away from her thoughts.
She smiled at him and handed him an apple from the bin; she patted his neck as he ate.
"What should I do?" She asked him. "I already messed up thinking that Harriet was the killer. Who else could stand to benefit from the Inn Keeper's de- Oh!" She said. "Of course!"
She kissed his forehead and ran into the Inn, forcing herself to walk before entering. It took all of her will-power to not smile in victory.
Harriet was sitting at the table with her mother, comforting her, when Deanna walked in.
"Now what do you want?" She demanded.
"I know who the killer is." Deanna answered watching them carefully for their reactions.
* * *
"Have you calmed down yet?" Cayle asked; he got a glare in response. "You know, you are taking this way too personal. He didn't mean anything by it, it was just banter; harmless banter."
"I don't like him." Cadman said.
"Just because he made a comment? Geez, aren't you touchy today." Cayle responded.
"No." Cadman said. "I don't like him, not because of what he said. And beside's it wasn't what he said, it was how he said it." The moment the words left his mouth he regretted them.
"Well, well." Cayle said, taking the opening. "Aren't you Mr. Sensitive; I'm sure back home you drive the ladies wild with your sensitivity. Do you cry too?"
"Shut up, Cayle." Was the response, and then, after a moment. "You couldn't have let just one slip by?"
"Would you have let that one slip by had it been me?" Cayle countered.
"No, probably not." Cadman said with a chuckle. "But really, I don't trust him."
"Now it's 'I don't trust him'? What happened to 'I don't like him'?"
"You know what I mean."
"Hey, are you two done yet?" Alroy called.
Cayle turned to talk to him, only to see the wagon carrying Alroy and Finn was stopped some feet behind his own.
"How did you get back there?" He asked.
"The wheel fell off." Finn said. "Some time ago, actually."
"But you two were too busy bantering to notice." Alroy said. "So do you think you could give us a hand?"
Cadman started clapping, getting a glare in return, while Cayle just started chuckling as he turned his own wagon around, heading back towards them.
Friday, April 19, 2013
Chapter 6
She walked downstairs into the dining room, where there were still plenty of customers, talking animatedly with each other, oblivious to the woman's grief upstairs.
Deanna walked over to an empty table and sat down, contemplating what she should do next. Should she be subtle about asking around for the knife that killed the Inn owner? Or should she be more blunt and ask directly, maybe she would be able to catch the murderer off guard and his start of surprise would reveal his guilt, or at least his surprise at having been caught. Then again, the murderer might not even be in the building anymore, in which case it would be pointless to ask these villagers about it. She sat there, thinking this over.
She would have to act soon, or else all the suspects would just walk out the door, and Deanna couldn't let that happen.
She stood and cleared her throat loudly, silencing the room and drawing everyone's eyes to her.
* * *
They stopped for lunch a little before noon, the wagons finding a path through the trees to a small clearing where they climbed down from the wagons, Alroy having joined Cayle on one of the wagons to rest his horse, who hadn't fully recovered from his extended run.
They finished off some left-over stew that they'd had for dinner the previous night, and also for breakfast that morning.
After cleaning his bowl, Alroy leaned back. "That was good." He said appreciatively.
Cadman nodded as he stood and began packing up their lunch. Soon, they were on the road once again.
* * *
Every eye turned to her curiously. "We're going to have to check your knives," She said loudly.
"Why?" Someone asked.
"Because we want to make sure you haven't contaminated anything," She lied. "There is a sickness going around and we want to contain it and make sure that it doesn't spread."
There was a loud echo as all the customers dropped all their knives on their tables at once and filed out of the door.
Deanna almost laughed despite herself at their reaction as she walked over to the tables, but she pushed the amusement aside and got down to business.
* * *
"I don't trust him." Finn whispered to Cayle as they were watering the horses. Cayle glanced back and Alroy, talking with Cadman.
"I don't either," He answered. "He seems a nice enough guy, but there's something not quite right about his story."
"You think he's lying?" Finn asked. Cayle shrugged.
"I think he doesn't trust us." He said. "Let's just see how this turns out, he doesn't seem like a bad guy,"
"But he might be involved with bad guys," Finn pointed out.
"True, but that is why we're going to see how it plays out." Cayle answered, walking back to the others.
* * *
After checking all the knives, Deanna sat down, at a loss. None of them was the murder weapon. She'd already checked the kitchen knives, and the knives that the staff had, all coming up empty; she wasn't sure what to do, and she felt bad leaving the woman's husband's murder unsolved.
She was sure she was far enough ahead of her pursuers to be able to stay at least one more day, but she wasn't sure how she could solve a murder in that amount of time, and she wasn't used to leaving something unfinished.
One of the kitchen servants brought her some food and drink, and she mused on what she should do as she ate.
* * *
They pulled up outside of a village and Cayle climbed down while the others stayed on the wagons as he did the usual questioning, coming up empty.
He walked out, deep in thought as to where she could have gone. A man walked passed him and hit his shoulder, when Cayle looked up the man nodded to the alley-way and walked towards it. Cayle followed warily.
The man wore a hood, but Cayle could see the long, unkempt hair that hung about his shoulders, and the beard that threatened to take up his whole face.
"Your looking for the girl, yes?" The man asked in a throaty voice that sounded as though he had something stuck in it, and his accent made the words hard to understand, and he spoke in broken English. Cayle nodded. "I saw her, not two days ago, pass by here, she was on horse, and she stopped at the Inn, much like you did, and then she continued, not stopping for the night."
"But I questioned the Inn keeper, and he said he hadn't seen her." Cayle said.
"She went to the Inn at the other side of town," The man said. "She was very careful, and kept her hood up, but I recognized her from the wanted poster."
There was a pause as Cayle absorbed this information.
"Is it true she killed an entire village?" The man asked in a shaky voice. "I hear she did that and many other things."
"I doubt it." Cayle said absently, thinking back to his encounter with her in the forest. If she had done what everyone says she did, then why hadn't she killed him?
"Well, thought I would pass along information," The man told him. "Strange man told me you would be coming and that I should keep an eye out, and tell you what I saw."
He turned to leave, but something he had said had raised a flag in Cayle's mind. "Wait," he said, the man turned back to him curiously. "What man?"
* * *
Deanna thought over the problem at hand. She hadn't checked the Inn owner's wife's knife, as she, like all villagers, carried one, because she hadn't wanted to add to the woman's suffering. But it would have to be done. She had already checked all the other villager's who had been there, but there was no telling how long the man had been dead, so he could have been murdered and then the killer simply slipped out.
Reluctantly, she stood and headed to where the Inn owner's wife was being cared for by her daughter, who was trying to be brave for her mother.
"Excuse me," Deanna said as she approached. Both women looked up at her, tears in their eyes. "But I have a question for you, and it's not going to be easy,"
"What is it?" The wife asked.
"I was wondering if I may see your knife," Deanna asked, dreading every second of this.
"My knife? Haven't you already checked all of them?" The woman asked.
"Not the Inn's knives.." Deanna said as gently as possible. She could see the realization of what she asking dawning in the woman's eyes.
"I didn't kill my husband." She said firmly. Before Deanna could respond, the woman's daughter came to her mother's defense.
"My mother would never hurt my father, and how dare you say otherwise." Her eyes were cold as ice.
"I told you that this wasn't going to be an easy question," Deanna said. "But I have to check every knife.
"I don't care what you think you have to do or not, but my mother didn't kill my father," The girl's words were laced with venom.
"Harriet, please," The woman said. "She's trying to help us,"
"I don't care," Harriet said. "She's accusing you of murder."
The woman stood and walked over to the staircase and started climbing.
"Mother?" Harriet called, running after her. Deanna sighed and followed.
She really hated this.
* * *
"What?" The man asked, confused.
"You said that the man told you to tell me what you saw, what man? What was his name?" Cayle asked.
"I'm sorry," the man said. "He did not give one."
Cayle thought for a moment. "What did he look like?"
"Tall, I did not see his face," The man answered. "Kept his hood up."
Cayle thought about that for a moment. The man looked expectantly at him.
"Sorry," Cayle said, noticing the expression. "Thank you for the information."
The man smiled and walked away. Cayle went back to the wagons, lost in thought. What could this mean?
* * *
The woman walked into one the room where her husband's corpse was found and, not glancing at the sheet which covered the man, walked into the bedroom, the two younger women behind her.
She walked over to a simple wooden dresser and searched one of the drawers until she found a knife. She handed it to Deanna wordlessly, who inspected it very carefully for any sign of blood, but found none.
She handed the knife back to the woman, who tucked it back in the drawer.
"Satisfied?" Harriet demanded, moving to put an arm about her mother's shoulders. Deanna nodded.
"I'm sorry, but I had to ask." She said. The woman nodded.
"I understand." She said with the voice of someone on the verge of tears. Deanna excused herself and left Harriet to care for her grieving mother.
Something struck her as odd as she descended the stairs, thinking over the problem.
Harriet didn't seem to be grieving.
* * *
"What is it?" Finn asked as Cayle climbed back onto the wagon they shared.
"She was here," Cayle answered. "And there was a man who wanted us to know.
"Who?" Finn asked.
"No idea," Was the answer.
"Who was the man that you talked to?" Finn asked.
"He said he saw her go into an Inn across town, and that a man told him to tell us what he saw."
"Thats odd..." Finn said.
"Indeed." Cayle agreed.
"So what now?" Cadman asked, walking over from where he had been lounging on his own wagon.
"We get moving in the same direction; we've got nothing else to go on." Cayle said.
Cadman nodded and walked back to the other wagon and climbed on, and soon they were off.
* * *
Back in the shadows of the alley-way, a man smiled, his hood up to keep out the rain. He watched them ride off, occasionally glancing irritatedly at the sky, before turning on his heel and walking away.
Deanna walked over to an empty table and sat down, contemplating what she should do next. Should she be subtle about asking around for the knife that killed the Inn owner? Or should she be more blunt and ask directly, maybe she would be able to catch the murderer off guard and his start of surprise would reveal his guilt, or at least his surprise at having been caught. Then again, the murderer might not even be in the building anymore, in which case it would be pointless to ask these villagers about it. She sat there, thinking this over.
She would have to act soon, or else all the suspects would just walk out the door, and Deanna couldn't let that happen.
She stood and cleared her throat loudly, silencing the room and drawing everyone's eyes to her.
* * *
They stopped for lunch a little before noon, the wagons finding a path through the trees to a small clearing where they climbed down from the wagons, Alroy having joined Cayle on one of the wagons to rest his horse, who hadn't fully recovered from his extended run.
They finished off some left-over stew that they'd had for dinner the previous night, and also for breakfast that morning.
After cleaning his bowl, Alroy leaned back. "That was good." He said appreciatively.
Cadman nodded as he stood and began packing up their lunch. Soon, they were on the road once again.
* * *
Every eye turned to her curiously. "We're going to have to check your knives," She said loudly.
"Why?" Someone asked.
"Because we want to make sure you haven't contaminated anything," She lied. "There is a sickness going around and we want to contain it and make sure that it doesn't spread."
There was a loud echo as all the customers dropped all their knives on their tables at once and filed out of the door.
Deanna almost laughed despite herself at their reaction as she walked over to the tables, but she pushed the amusement aside and got down to business.
* * *
"I don't trust him." Finn whispered to Cayle as they were watering the horses. Cayle glanced back and Alroy, talking with Cadman.
"I don't either," He answered. "He seems a nice enough guy, but there's something not quite right about his story."
"You think he's lying?" Finn asked. Cayle shrugged.
"I think he doesn't trust us." He said. "Let's just see how this turns out, he doesn't seem like a bad guy,"
"But he might be involved with bad guys," Finn pointed out.
"True, but that is why we're going to see how it plays out." Cayle answered, walking back to the others.
* * *
After checking all the knives, Deanna sat down, at a loss. None of them was the murder weapon. She'd already checked the kitchen knives, and the knives that the staff had, all coming up empty; she wasn't sure what to do, and she felt bad leaving the woman's husband's murder unsolved.
She was sure she was far enough ahead of her pursuers to be able to stay at least one more day, but she wasn't sure how she could solve a murder in that amount of time, and she wasn't used to leaving something unfinished.
One of the kitchen servants brought her some food and drink, and she mused on what she should do as she ate.
* * *
They pulled up outside of a village and Cayle climbed down while the others stayed on the wagons as he did the usual questioning, coming up empty.
He walked out, deep in thought as to where she could have gone. A man walked passed him and hit his shoulder, when Cayle looked up the man nodded to the alley-way and walked towards it. Cayle followed warily.
The man wore a hood, but Cayle could see the long, unkempt hair that hung about his shoulders, and the beard that threatened to take up his whole face.
"Your looking for the girl, yes?" The man asked in a throaty voice that sounded as though he had something stuck in it, and his accent made the words hard to understand, and he spoke in broken English. Cayle nodded. "I saw her, not two days ago, pass by here, she was on horse, and she stopped at the Inn, much like you did, and then she continued, not stopping for the night."
"But I questioned the Inn keeper, and he said he hadn't seen her." Cayle said.
"She went to the Inn at the other side of town," The man said. "She was very careful, and kept her hood up, but I recognized her from the wanted poster."
There was a pause as Cayle absorbed this information.
"Is it true she killed an entire village?" The man asked in a shaky voice. "I hear she did that and many other things."
"I doubt it." Cayle said absently, thinking back to his encounter with her in the forest. If she had done what everyone says she did, then why hadn't she killed him?
"Well, thought I would pass along information," The man told him. "Strange man told me you would be coming and that I should keep an eye out, and tell you what I saw."
He turned to leave, but something he had said had raised a flag in Cayle's mind. "Wait," he said, the man turned back to him curiously. "What man?"
* * *
Deanna thought over the problem at hand. She hadn't checked the Inn owner's wife's knife, as she, like all villagers, carried one, because she hadn't wanted to add to the woman's suffering. But it would have to be done. She had already checked all the other villager's who had been there, but there was no telling how long the man had been dead, so he could have been murdered and then the killer simply slipped out.
Reluctantly, she stood and headed to where the Inn owner's wife was being cared for by her daughter, who was trying to be brave for her mother.
"Excuse me," Deanna said as she approached. Both women looked up at her, tears in their eyes. "But I have a question for you, and it's not going to be easy,"
"What is it?" The wife asked.
"I was wondering if I may see your knife," Deanna asked, dreading every second of this.
"My knife? Haven't you already checked all of them?" The woman asked.
"Not the Inn's knives.." Deanna said as gently as possible. She could see the realization of what she asking dawning in the woman's eyes.
"I didn't kill my husband." She said firmly. Before Deanna could respond, the woman's daughter came to her mother's defense.
"My mother would never hurt my father, and how dare you say otherwise." Her eyes were cold as ice.
"I told you that this wasn't going to be an easy question," Deanna said. "But I have to check every knife.
"I don't care what you think you have to do or not, but my mother didn't kill my father," The girl's words were laced with venom.
"Harriet, please," The woman said. "She's trying to help us,"
"I don't care," Harriet said. "She's accusing you of murder."
The woman stood and walked over to the staircase and started climbing.
"Mother?" Harriet called, running after her. Deanna sighed and followed.
She really hated this.
* * *
"What?" The man asked, confused.
"You said that the man told you to tell me what you saw, what man? What was his name?" Cayle asked.
"I'm sorry," the man said. "He did not give one."
Cayle thought for a moment. "What did he look like?"
"Tall, I did not see his face," The man answered. "Kept his hood up."
Cayle thought about that for a moment. The man looked expectantly at him.
"Sorry," Cayle said, noticing the expression. "Thank you for the information."
The man smiled and walked away. Cayle went back to the wagons, lost in thought. What could this mean?
* * *
The woman walked into one the room where her husband's corpse was found and, not glancing at the sheet which covered the man, walked into the bedroom, the two younger women behind her.
She walked over to a simple wooden dresser and searched one of the drawers until she found a knife. She handed it to Deanna wordlessly, who inspected it very carefully for any sign of blood, but found none.
She handed the knife back to the woman, who tucked it back in the drawer.
"Satisfied?" Harriet demanded, moving to put an arm about her mother's shoulders. Deanna nodded.
"I'm sorry, but I had to ask." She said. The woman nodded.
"I understand." She said with the voice of someone on the verge of tears. Deanna excused herself and left Harriet to care for her grieving mother.
Something struck her as odd as she descended the stairs, thinking over the problem.
Harriet didn't seem to be grieving.
* * *
"What is it?" Finn asked as Cayle climbed back onto the wagon they shared.
"She was here," Cayle answered. "And there was a man who wanted us to know.
"Who?" Finn asked.
"No idea," Was the answer.
"Who was the man that you talked to?" Finn asked.
"He said he saw her go into an Inn across town, and that a man told him to tell us what he saw."
"Thats odd..." Finn said.
"Indeed." Cayle agreed.
"So what now?" Cadman asked, walking over from where he had been lounging on his own wagon.
"We get moving in the same direction; we've got nothing else to go on." Cayle said.
Cadman nodded and walked back to the other wagon and climbed on, and soon they were off.
* * *
Back in the shadows of the alley-way, a man smiled, his hood up to keep out the rain. He watched them ride off, occasionally glancing irritatedly at the sky, before turning on his heel and walking away.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Chapter 5
"What happened?" Cadman asked as he handed Cayle the water canteen, who took a long drink and didn't answer.
"I asked you a question: what happened?" Cadman asked again. Cayle looked at him.
"I don't want to talk about it," He said.
"Too bad," Cadman responded. Silence fell upon the campsite.
Finn went to work making dinner, as he was the best cook out of them, and the only sound was him preparing the meal. Finally, Cadman sighed.
"Fine, don't tell me," He said. "Which direction did she go? Did you see?"
"She went west," Cayle answered.
"West?" Cadman repeated.
"Is there an echo here? Yes west," Cayle said, taking another drink.
"Well jeez, someone woke up on the wrong side of the roots," Cadman muttered under his breath, but just loud enough for the others to hear. "I was just saying that it made no sense for her to go West when she had been heading for the coast which lies to the East."
"I'm well aware of that," Cayle said with the exaggerated patience of someone who is talking to a child. "But that's where she went."
"She could be tailing someone," Flynn interjected as he took a bite of food. Cayle and Cadman stared at him. The thought never occurred to them.
"Who could she be tailing? If she is at all," Cadman said. Cayle shook his head. He didn't know either.
* * *
Deanna climbed the stairs which led to the second floor. There were doors lining the hall, where the guests could come and sleep.
She walked down the hall until she came to one of the doors, a bit more fancy in the design than the rest. She pushed it open, and it slid over the floor on well-oiled hinges. She walked in, taking in the room with a single glance.
It was plain, though a bit more ornate than what she guessed the other rooms would look like, with no real ornaments decorating the walls.
There were bookshelves lining the walls, with a door in the corner, which she assumed led to the bedroom, and a desk in front of the small window, the moonlight illuminating the tables contents and the blood that covered them.
Deanna froze. There was a man slumped over the table. The Inn owner. She walked closer, her hand on her sword hilt.
* * *
"Would you hurry up already? The trails gonna go cold if we have to stop and start like this." Cadman said as he waited for Cayle and Finn to catch up with him. They were riding on the wagons while Cadman was on an unburdened horse.
"That's easy for you to say," Cayle said when he caught up. "You don't have to lug around all the equipment, which, as I have said before, is completely unnecessary."
"It would look a bit weird if we were riding through, armed like we are, and not having a purpose now would it?" Cadman said.
"It looks weirder now that we have these damn wagons." Cayle muttered.
The wagons were plain, with a door on the back of each. They had bought them off of Gypsies that had been going to try they're luck on another isle off to the south.
There was a loud thud as Finn's wagon ran over a rock, knocking over some of the wagon's contents.
He pulled up next to them, a frustrated look on his face.
"Cadman, why can't you drive the wagon?" He asked. "You're better at it than I am."
"Because I'm acting as scout." Cadman answered.
"Why? It was your idea to pose as wagoneers in the first place, I think you should be driving one." Cayle said.
"It's not fair to let us suffer at the expense of your idea," Finn said.
"OK, fine," Cadman said. "When we stop for lunch I'll take one of the wagons. There, are you satisfied?"
"Rider coming," Cayle said. "And yes."
There was a lone rider heading towards them at a gallop.
"Hey, maybe our lucks getting better and that's her," Finn said hopefully.
"I doubt it." Cadman said. "It couldn't be that easy, could it?"
"Let's find out," Cayle said, moving his wagon out of the center of the road to await the rider.
The rider was wearing a dark blue cloak, billowing out behind him, the cowl was up, so they couldn't discern whether the rider was male or female.
"How is the cowl staying up when he's galloping like that?" Finn asked; Cadman was about to answer when the rider came to a halt a few feet from them. Even from this distance, they could hear both him and the horse panting, both from the warmth of the sun and their run.
"Good Day, travelers," The rider panted out. "Might you have some water to spare? For both me and my horse?"
Finn climbed into the back of his wagon and grabbed two water skins and a bucket and handed them to Cayle, who had climbed down from his wagon.
He walked up to the rider, who dismounted, and handed him one of the water skins while he set the bucket down and poured some of the contents of the other inside. The horse drank greedily, and so did his master.
"Why are you in so much of a hurry, friend?" Cadman asked, dismounting.
The man hesitated. "I-I'm on my way to the fair," He didn't sound convincing.
"That's nice." Cadman said. "Now why are you really in such a hurry?"
The man's shoulder's sagged. "I was running from...." He paused, and covered it up with taking another drink. "Bandits."
"We were just down that road and didn't see any bandits." Finn said.
"Well, they probably thought one man would be easier pickings." The man said.
"Alright," Cayle said, not sounding convinced. He poured some more water into the bucket for the horse.
The man went to hand Cayle back the water skin, but Cayle shook his head. "Keep it," He said. "We've got plenty."
The man nodded his thanks. "So, where are you bound?" He asked.
"Careman," Finn said.
"Oh really? What a coincidence, so am I, that's where the fair is." The man said. "May I travel with you as far as Careman?"
Cadman and Cayle glanced at each other before answering. They were both hesitant to add a stranger who wasn't being honest with them about why he was in such a hurry, but, other than that, the man seemed harmless.
"Sure," Finn said before either of them could agree or disagree. The man smiled.
"Thanks, lad," He said, he paused a moment. "My name's Alroy, by the way."
"I'm Cayle, that's Cadman, and the lad is Finn," Cayle said. "Nice to meet you,"
Cadman looked up at the sky. "Let's put a few more miles in before we ."
Cayle nodded and climbed back onto his wagon, while Alroy mounted and followed behind them at a walk.
* * *
The riders watched the group leave. The leader's face was almost a snarl as his eyes bore into the new companions back.
He whistled to his men and they turned around and galloped back to report to their superiors that he had gotten away.
* * *
She checked the Inn owner's pulse. He was dead. She looked in the bedroom door quickly. Empty. She walked back over to the body. He couldn't have been dead long.
The only window in the place wouldn't have fit a human, maybe a two year old, but Deanna seriously doubted that a two year old would be able to kill this man.
There was a scream from the doorway and Deanna spun, her sword half-drawn. It was the Inn owner's wife.
The woman rushed in the room and over to her husbands corpse. She was crying hysterically. Deanna walked over to her as she tried to lift her husband out of his chair and move him, possibly to try and save or revive him. It tore at Deanna's heart to see this woman's sorrow. But it also made her wonder how she couldn't have noticed that her husband was dead.
"Ma'am," She said to her as she managed to pull him off of his chair and lay him on the floor. She cradled him and rocked back and forth, sobbing.
"Ma'am." Deanna repeated, a little louder. The woman looked up at her, tears streaming down her face, and still she rocked. And now Deanna could see the knife sticking out through her husband's chest, right in the heart. A plain dagger that wouldn't be useful in the slightest to catch the man's killer.
Deanna felt a surge of pity for the woman who may never get closure.
"Ma'am, did you hear anything out of the ordinary? Maybe you dismissed it." She went on. The woman shook her head.
"E-even if I-I did hear anything, t-the noise f-from downstairs would have kept me o-occupied, but I didn't h-hear anything." She stuttered, fighting back more sobs. "Can you catch who did this to my h-husband?"
Deanna tried to smile reassuringly. "I'm going to try."
The woman nodded once and then went back to sobbing and rocking her husband. Deanna slipped out and left her to her grief, figuring there was nothing she could do to lessen it or to relieve her of it.
And the knife would be no help what-so-ever. All the villagers downstairs had knives like that, and she assumed that most of the staff used those knives to cut their meat and bread, the never been used ones of course. At least, she hoped that they were un-used.
"I asked you a question: what happened?" Cadman asked again. Cayle looked at him.
"I don't want to talk about it," He said.
"Too bad," Cadman responded. Silence fell upon the campsite.
Finn went to work making dinner, as he was the best cook out of them, and the only sound was him preparing the meal. Finally, Cadman sighed.
"Fine, don't tell me," He said. "Which direction did she go? Did you see?"
"She went west," Cayle answered.
"West?" Cadman repeated.
"Is there an echo here? Yes west," Cayle said, taking another drink.
"Well jeez, someone woke up on the wrong side of the roots," Cadman muttered under his breath, but just loud enough for the others to hear. "I was just saying that it made no sense for her to go West when she had been heading for the coast which lies to the East."
"I'm well aware of that," Cayle said with the exaggerated patience of someone who is talking to a child. "But that's where she went."
"She could be tailing someone," Flynn interjected as he took a bite of food. Cayle and Cadman stared at him. The thought never occurred to them.
"Who could she be tailing? If she is at all," Cadman said. Cayle shook his head. He didn't know either.
* * *
Deanna climbed the stairs which led to the second floor. There were doors lining the hall, where the guests could come and sleep.
She walked down the hall until she came to one of the doors, a bit more fancy in the design than the rest. She pushed it open, and it slid over the floor on well-oiled hinges. She walked in, taking in the room with a single glance.
It was plain, though a bit more ornate than what she guessed the other rooms would look like, with no real ornaments decorating the walls.
There were bookshelves lining the walls, with a door in the corner, which she assumed led to the bedroom, and a desk in front of the small window, the moonlight illuminating the tables contents and the blood that covered them.
Deanna froze. There was a man slumped over the table. The Inn owner. She walked closer, her hand on her sword hilt.
* * *
"Would you hurry up already? The trails gonna go cold if we have to stop and start like this." Cadman said as he waited for Cayle and Finn to catch up with him. They were riding on the wagons while Cadman was on an unburdened horse.
"That's easy for you to say," Cayle said when he caught up. "You don't have to lug around all the equipment, which, as I have said before, is completely unnecessary."
"It would look a bit weird if we were riding through, armed like we are, and not having a purpose now would it?" Cadman said.
"It looks weirder now that we have these damn wagons." Cayle muttered.
The wagons were plain, with a door on the back of each. They had bought them off of Gypsies that had been going to try they're luck on another isle off to the south.
There was a loud thud as Finn's wagon ran over a rock, knocking over some of the wagon's contents.
He pulled up next to them, a frustrated look on his face.
"Cadman, why can't you drive the wagon?" He asked. "You're better at it than I am."
"Because I'm acting as scout." Cadman answered.
"Why? It was your idea to pose as wagoneers in the first place, I think you should be driving one." Cayle said.
"It's not fair to let us suffer at the expense of your idea," Finn said.
"OK, fine," Cadman said. "When we stop for lunch I'll take one of the wagons. There, are you satisfied?"
"Rider coming," Cayle said. "And yes."
There was a lone rider heading towards them at a gallop.
"Hey, maybe our lucks getting better and that's her," Finn said hopefully.
"I doubt it." Cadman said. "It couldn't be that easy, could it?"
"Let's find out," Cayle said, moving his wagon out of the center of the road to await the rider.
The rider was wearing a dark blue cloak, billowing out behind him, the cowl was up, so they couldn't discern whether the rider was male or female.
"How is the cowl staying up when he's galloping like that?" Finn asked; Cadman was about to answer when the rider came to a halt a few feet from them. Even from this distance, they could hear both him and the horse panting, both from the warmth of the sun and their run.
"Good Day, travelers," The rider panted out. "Might you have some water to spare? For both me and my horse?"
Finn climbed into the back of his wagon and grabbed two water skins and a bucket and handed them to Cayle, who had climbed down from his wagon.
He walked up to the rider, who dismounted, and handed him one of the water skins while he set the bucket down and poured some of the contents of the other inside. The horse drank greedily, and so did his master.
"Why are you in so much of a hurry, friend?" Cadman asked, dismounting.
The man hesitated. "I-I'm on my way to the fair," He didn't sound convincing.
"That's nice." Cadman said. "Now why are you really in such a hurry?"
The man's shoulder's sagged. "I was running from...." He paused, and covered it up with taking another drink. "Bandits."
"We were just down that road and didn't see any bandits." Finn said.
"Well, they probably thought one man would be easier pickings." The man said.
"Alright," Cayle said, not sounding convinced. He poured some more water into the bucket for the horse.
The man went to hand Cayle back the water skin, but Cayle shook his head. "Keep it," He said. "We've got plenty."
The man nodded his thanks. "So, where are you bound?" He asked.
"Careman," Finn said.
"Oh really? What a coincidence, so am I, that's where the fair is." The man said. "May I travel with you as far as Careman?"
Cadman and Cayle glanced at each other before answering. They were both hesitant to add a stranger who wasn't being honest with them about why he was in such a hurry, but, other than that, the man seemed harmless.
"Sure," Finn said before either of them could agree or disagree. The man smiled.
"Thanks, lad," He said, he paused a moment. "My name's Alroy, by the way."
"I'm Cayle, that's Cadman, and the lad is Finn," Cayle said. "Nice to meet you,"
Cadman looked up at the sky. "Let's put a few more miles in before we ."
Cayle nodded and climbed back onto his wagon, while Alroy mounted and followed behind them at a walk.
* * *
The riders watched the group leave. The leader's face was almost a snarl as his eyes bore into the new companions back.
He whistled to his men and they turned around and galloped back to report to their superiors that he had gotten away.
* * *
She checked the Inn owner's pulse. He was dead. She looked in the bedroom door quickly. Empty. She walked back over to the body. He couldn't have been dead long.
The only window in the place wouldn't have fit a human, maybe a two year old, but Deanna seriously doubted that a two year old would be able to kill this man.
There was a scream from the doorway and Deanna spun, her sword half-drawn. It was the Inn owner's wife.
The woman rushed in the room and over to her husbands corpse. She was crying hysterically. Deanna walked over to her as she tried to lift her husband out of his chair and move him, possibly to try and save or revive him. It tore at Deanna's heart to see this woman's sorrow. But it also made her wonder how she couldn't have noticed that her husband was dead.
"Ma'am," She said to her as she managed to pull him off of his chair and lay him on the floor. She cradled him and rocked back and forth, sobbing.
"Ma'am." Deanna repeated, a little louder. The woman looked up at her, tears streaming down her face, and still she rocked. And now Deanna could see the knife sticking out through her husband's chest, right in the heart. A plain dagger that wouldn't be useful in the slightest to catch the man's killer.
Deanna felt a surge of pity for the woman who may never get closure.
"Ma'am, did you hear anything out of the ordinary? Maybe you dismissed it." She went on. The woman shook her head.
"E-even if I-I did hear anything, t-the noise f-from downstairs would have kept me o-occupied, but I didn't h-hear anything." She stuttered, fighting back more sobs. "Can you catch who did this to my h-husband?"
Deanna tried to smile reassuringly. "I'm going to try."
The woman nodded once and then went back to sobbing and rocking her husband. Deanna slipped out and left her to her grief, figuring there was nothing she could do to lessen it or to relieve her of it.
And the knife would be no help what-so-ever. All the villagers downstairs had knives like that, and she assumed that most of the staff used those knives to cut their meat and bread, the never been used ones of course. At least, she hoped that they were un-used.
Monday, January 28, 2013
Chapter 4 of Random Story
"Why are you following me?" She asked. He hesitated. "Answer me!"
"Why are you holding a sword to my chest?" He countered.
"Because you are following me and I don't like being followed," She said. He remained silent. "I am going to ask you one more time: why are you following me?"
He didn't answer.
"Is it for the money?" She asked. "I hear there's a very generous reward for my head,"
Still he didn't answer.
"You may think your being wise by remaining silent, but it's actually quite annoying" She said. "So I suggest you start talking."
The horse neighed loudly. Deanna glanced at the horse to see what had startled him. The singer swatted the sword away and leaped at her, knocking her to the ground and pinning her.
"Why are you so desperate to hide?" He asked.
"Get off of me!" She said, struggling.
"Not until I get an explanation," He said.
"No!" She said, trying to move out from under him.
"Why is there an arrest warrant for you? Aside from that temper of yours, you don't seem like much of a fugitive," He said.
"I said get off!" Deanna screamed, trying to throw him.
"If I do, will you promise not to try and kill me or run away?" He asked, watching her closely. She had beautiful eyes, he noticed. A very deep green.
She stopped struggling, looking at him for the longest time, and then she spit in his face. "Nothing personal," She said, the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. He frowned, confused, but then was knocked over by something from behind. He looked behind him to see her horse had come to protect its mistress.
Deanna stood and got a small coil of rope from her horse's saddle, turned to him and brought him to his feet, tying his hands to his ankles and then led him, hopping and bound together, over to a tree where she tied the rope to a thick branch, and then she pushed him.
He landed heavily on a root, hissing in pain and trying to move to an angle that it didn't dig into him. He looked up and saw her just as she mounted and rode out of the small clearing.
He cursed and struggled against his bonds uselessly, the knots tied tight, and the branch too thick to break.
* * *
Deanna rode off to the west, deciding that it was unlikely that his companians had gone the same route as he had, and she assumed that he hadn't parted ways with the other two at the camp the other day.
She urged Krennan into a gallop and rode off. She would pick up Herndon's trail again soon, but for now, she needed to put as much distance between her and her pursuers as possible.
She briefly wondered why they had been chasing her, and she thought back to what the singer had said when he had been questioning her. She frowned.
She didn't remember being wanted for any crime. She shook her head.
Those were questions for another time, for now, she needed to focus on driving Krennan on, and not running into any trees, not that Krennan would allow that. He was too smart a horse to be led point blank into a tree.
* * *
Cayle sat there beneath the tree glowering, partly at his inability to capture the girl, but mostly because the root still dug into his buttocks, and no matter how many times he would move and shift his weight, it always found a way to dig into him. And he was not looking forward to the jokes that he would be the butt of, so to speak, when he was found by Cadman and Finn, for he knew they would come looking for him when he didn't show up at the meeting point.
He looked up towards the sky, and was just able to make out a small blue patch from between the tree branches. He couldn't exactly tell how long he had been sitting there, but he didn't think it had been long enough to arouse suspicion as to his whereabouts.
He sighed; he had a long wait ahead of him.
* * *
Cadman dropped from his saddle to examine the ground. No new footprints. He frowned.
"She must have went towards the west," He muttered, getting to his feet.
"Should we head up there? Maybe Cayle found something," Finn said. Cadman nodded as he swung into the saddle again.
"Let's go check on him," He said, turning his mount to head west.
After a few minutes, they found Cayle's footprints. Cadman dropped to the ground again and studied the scene there.
"Well?" Finn asked after a few moments.
"Looks like he'd seen or heard something," Cadman said, just loud enough for Finn to hear. "He moved off into the trees, and then another horse came galloping out, but I don't think it was Cayle's horse,"
"Do you think it was her?" Finn asked. Cadman glanced up at him.
"More than likely," He said. "Cayle probably stumbled onto her hiding place; let's check deeper in the trees,"
He led his horse into the woods. Finn dismounted and followed suit.
* * *
Cayle had been dozing when he heard the horses. He opened his eyes, not sure if he had dreamt it or if he had really heard it. He lifted his head.
He could still hear the horses, and now he could also hear voices. He was tempted to scream for help, but hesitated, he didn't know if the person was a friend or not, so he remained silent, eyes fixed on the spot where he imagined the horses would show.
He waited, and waited, and waited, but didn't see any horse. He frowned; he could still hear them, he just couldn't see them.
"Maybe whoever it is hasn't seen this clearing," He said to himself, and then suddenly, there were two horses that came charging out of the forest right next to him.
The rider's reined in and dismounted, one of them pulling out a map.
The other one pointed at an area and said something in a language Cayle didn't understand, and he found himself wondering what they were doing so far from home and what it was they were after.
After they had agreed on a route, they re-mounted and rode off and a few minutes later, Cadman and Finn came running into the clearing, the former with his sword drawn.
* * *
Deanna reined in at the nearest Inn and dismounted. She glanced up at the sky, it looked as though it would rain tonight. She shrugged and walked inside.
There was a fire in the corner where several people were huddled, eating their evening meals.
She walked over to the counter and waited for the owner to arrive; when he didn't she knocked on the wood.
The sounded echoed around the room, drawing curious eyes towards her direction.
A woman peeked out from a door in the back of the room and frowned before disappearing back inside the room, only to reappear a moment later, wiping her flour coated hands on her apron.
"May I help you, mam?" She asked.
"I was wondering where the owner was," Deanna said. The woman shrugged, and nodded towards the ceiling.
"I believe he is upstairs," She said. "He usually goes up there at this time to sort through some things and get the tax in order,"
"May I go up?" Deanna asked. The woman thought for a moment, and then shrugged.
"Alright, just don't be too long," She said before turning on her heel and walking back towards the room where she had appeared from.
Deanna turned and walked towards the staircase and began climbing.
"Why are you holding a sword to my chest?" He countered.
"Because you are following me and I don't like being followed," She said. He remained silent. "I am going to ask you one more time: why are you following me?"
He didn't answer.
"Is it for the money?" She asked. "I hear there's a very generous reward for my head,"
Still he didn't answer.
"You may think your being wise by remaining silent, but it's actually quite annoying" She said. "So I suggest you start talking."
The horse neighed loudly. Deanna glanced at the horse to see what had startled him. The singer swatted the sword away and leaped at her, knocking her to the ground and pinning her.
"Why are you so desperate to hide?" He asked.
"Get off of me!" She said, struggling.
"Not until I get an explanation," He said.
"No!" She said, trying to move out from under him.
"Why is there an arrest warrant for you? Aside from that temper of yours, you don't seem like much of a fugitive," He said.
"I said get off!" Deanna screamed, trying to throw him.
"If I do, will you promise not to try and kill me or run away?" He asked, watching her closely. She had beautiful eyes, he noticed. A very deep green.
She stopped struggling, looking at him for the longest time, and then she spit in his face. "Nothing personal," She said, the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. He frowned, confused, but then was knocked over by something from behind. He looked behind him to see her horse had come to protect its mistress.
Deanna stood and got a small coil of rope from her horse's saddle, turned to him and brought him to his feet, tying his hands to his ankles and then led him, hopping and bound together, over to a tree where she tied the rope to a thick branch, and then she pushed him.
He landed heavily on a root, hissing in pain and trying to move to an angle that it didn't dig into him. He looked up and saw her just as she mounted and rode out of the small clearing.
He cursed and struggled against his bonds uselessly, the knots tied tight, and the branch too thick to break.
* * *
Deanna rode off to the west, deciding that it was unlikely that his companians had gone the same route as he had, and she assumed that he hadn't parted ways with the other two at the camp the other day.
She urged Krennan into a gallop and rode off. She would pick up Herndon's trail again soon, but for now, she needed to put as much distance between her and her pursuers as possible.
She briefly wondered why they had been chasing her, and she thought back to what the singer had said when he had been questioning her. She frowned.
She didn't remember being wanted for any crime. She shook her head.
Those were questions for another time, for now, she needed to focus on driving Krennan on, and not running into any trees, not that Krennan would allow that. He was too smart a horse to be led point blank into a tree.
* * *
Cayle sat there beneath the tree glowering, partly at his inability to capture the girl, but mostly because the root still dug into his buttocks, and no matter how many times he would move and shift his weight, it always found a way to dig into him. And he was not looking forward to the jokes that he would be the butt of, so to speak, when he was found by Cadman and Finn, for he knew they would come looking for him when he didn't show up at the meeting point.
He looked up towards the sky, and was just able to make out a small blue patch from between the tree branches. He couldn't exactly tell how long he had been sitting there, but he didn't think it had been long enough to arouse suspicion as to his whereabouts.
He sighed; he had a long wait ahead of him.
* * *
Cadman dropped from his saddle to examine the ground. No new footprints. He frowned.
"She must have went towards the west," He muttered, getting to his feet.
"Should we head up there? Maybe Cayle found something," Finn said. Cadman nodded as he swung into the saddle again.
"Let's go check on him," He said, turning his mount to head west.
After a few minutes, they found Cayle's footprints. Cadman dropped to the ground again and studied the scene there.
"Well?" Finn asked after a few moments.
"Looks like he'd seen or heard something," Cadman said, just loud enough for Finn to hear. "He moved off into the trees, and then another horse came galloping out, but I don't think it was Cayle's horse,"
"Do you think it was her?" Finn asked. Cadman glanced up at him.
"More than likely," He said. "Cayle probably stumbled onto her hiding place; let's check deeper in the trees,"
He led his horse into the woods. Finn dismounted and followed suit.
* * *
Cayle had been dozing when he heard the horses. He opened his eyes, not sure if he had dreamt it or if he had really heard it. He lifted his head.
He could still hear the horses, and now he could also hear voices. He was tempted to scream for help, but hesitated, he didn't know if the person was a friend or not, so he remained silent, eyes fixed on the spot where he imagined the horses would show.
He waited, and waited, and waited, but didn't see any horse. He frowned; he could still hear them, he just couldn't see them.
"Maybe whoever it is hasn't seen this clearing," He said to himself, and then suddenly, there were two horses that came charging out of the forest right next to him.
The rider's reined in and dismounted, one of them pulling out a map.
The other one pointed at an area and said something in a language Cayle didn't understand, and he found himself wondering what they were doing so far from home and what it was they were after.
After they had agreed on a route, they re-mounted and rode off and a few minutes later, Cadman and Finn came running into the clearing, the former with his sword drawn.
* * *
Deanna reined in at the nearest Inn and dismounted. She glanced up at the sky, it looked as though it would rain tonight. She shrugged and walked inside.
There was a fire in the corner where several people were huddled, eating their evening meals.
She walked over to the counter and waited for the owner to arrive; when he didn't she knocked on the wood.
The sounded echoed around the room, drawing curious eyes towards her direction.
A woman peeked out from a door in the back of the room and frowned before disappearing back inside the room, only to reappear a moment later, wiping her flour coated hands on her apron.
"May I help you, mam?" She asked.
"I was wondering where the owner was," Deanna said. The woman shrugged, and nodded towards the ceiling.
"I believe he is upstairs," She said. "He usually goes up there at this time to sort through some things and get the tax in order,"
"May I go up?" Deanna asked. The woman thought for a moment, and then shrugged.
"Alright, just don't be too long," She said before turning on her heel and walking back towards the room where she had appeared from.
Deanna turned and walked towards the staircase and began climbing.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Pumpkins
Happy Halloween!
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Chapter 3 of Random Story
Cayle sat by the fire and watched the sun rise over the hills. He’d woken up an hour before dawn.
He didn’t sleep good, tossing and turning, and when he did sleep, nightmares showed their unwelcome faces.
He hated what he had become, what he had been forced into. He thought back to why he had resorted to this and sighed, depressed.
He heard a sound behind him and turned, seeing Cadman crawling out of his tent and stretching.
Cadman was a soldier who had been in a similar predicament as Cayle. They had decided to split the reward money.
“How long have you been up?” Cadman asked, seeing Cayle by the fire pit.
“A while,” Cayle answered.
“Couldn’t sleep, could you?” Cadman asked. Cayle shook his head, turning back to the cold fire pit.
There was a long silence.
“What’s for breakfast?” Cadman asked, making Cayle laugh.
“Are you ever not hungry?” He asked. Cadman thought for a moment.
“No, not really,” he said.
Cayle got up and started making breakfast.
*
As they were eating, Finn also came out of his tent, smelling the food. He was a scrawny boy of about eighteen, with light brown hair that fell to his shoulders and covered most of his eyes, creating a veil.
"Can I have some?" He asked. Cayle handed him a plate in answer; Finn took, and, with a nod of thanks, started eating.
He had come with Cadman, as sort of an unofficial squire.
Cayle got up and walked over to the washing bucket and looked up at the sun, sitting above the hills now.
"We had better start moving," He said. Cadman also got to his feet and, after depositing his plate into the bucket, walked towards his tent to start packing it up. Cayle did the same, while Finn continued to eat.
After Cadman and Cayle had finished, they found that, while they had been working, Finn had washed the dishes, and was currently struggling with his tent.
The two men shared a glance, and then walked over to help him.
*
Deanna finally came to a stop, nearly falling out of the saddle from exhaustion.
She had been riding all night, occasionally leading and checking his hoofs. She didn't stop to sleep, but ended up dozing in the saddle.
She dis-mounted and started to lead Krennan again, but she ended up stopping and leaning on him.
"OK, this isn't working," She said, she lead him into the trees, where, after a while, she came across a clearing.
"I just need a few hours sleep," She mumbled as she tied Krennan to a tree. She pulled a blanket from her pack and leaned against the tree. Krennan got down on his knees and neighed quietly.
Deanna opened one of her eyes and saw him watching her. she smiled and moved over and leaned against him instead.
"Thanks, boy," She whispered. A few seconds later, she was asleep.
*
"Where should we start?" Cadman asked, looking up and down the road.
"She should be going to the sea, right?" Finn asked. "So wouldn't it make more sense to go up the road?"
"Yes, but we're not sure if she's going to the sea or not, she could double back, and she's searching for that Herndon, who may or may not exist," Cadman said. Cayle remained quiet, debating on a course.
"I think we should split up," He said finally.
"What?" Cadman asked. "That's insane; what if you find her? I won't be there to protect you."
"I can take care of myself," Cayle responded, a little indignantly. "It will give us a better shot, I can go up the road, while you go down, and then we can meet up in two hours; what could be easier?"
"Getting yourself killed for one thing," Cadman said, crossing his arms.
"Well, do we have a better plan?" Cayle asked. Cadman hesitated, and Cayle seized his advantage, seeing that Cadman was starting to budge.
"Come on, do you have a better plan?" He asked. Again Cadman hesitated.
There was silence, and then Cadman sagged slightly.
"Fine; just try not to get killed," He said, walking over to his horse. "Finn, climb into the wagon."
"See you in two hours, Cadman," Cayle called as he walked over to his own horse. "See you Finn,"
He mounted and sat on his horse and watched as Cadman and Finn went down the road. He turned his horse and started up the road.
*
After an hour, and not finding anything, he thought maybe it was time to turn back.
He started to turn his horse around, when it did something he didn't expect. It neighed, loudly.
"What's wrong?" He asked, surprised. This horse had never done that before.
It ignored him and tried to keep walking, but didn't get far.
"Come on, we have to get back, otherwise they'll think we got ourselves killed," He pleaded. Eventually, the horse gave in and allowed itself to be turned back the way they had come.
When he got back to the meeting point, Cadman and Finn were already there.
"Sorry, the horse started acting strange," Cayle explained as he dismounted. "Did you find anything?"
"Nope, not a thing," Cadman said.
"Maybe we should go out farther," Finn suggested.
"I agree," Cayle said. Cadman sighed.
"I see I'm outnumbered." He said. "I suppose you want to split up again,"
"It's our best shot at finding out which way she went," Cayle said.
"I guess you have a point," Cadman said. "Fine; let's meet up after three hours,"
"Alright, good luck." Cayle said, moving to re-mount.
"You too, and don't get killed, she's very dangerous," Cadman said, moving towards the wagon.
"I'm not an idiot, but I thank you for your concern." Cayle said.
He turned his horse to face up the road again, and let him walk. He heard the wagon also start moving.
*
Krennan woke her up after what she guessed was two hours. She got to her feet and stretched; Krennan also stood.
"Thanks boy," She said, patting his neck. She dug around in her pack and found a treat and gave it to him. He ate it and wickered appreciatively when he had finished.
She untied Krennan's reins and led him out of the trees. She was about to step on the road, when she heard another horse. She stepped back into the shadows of the trees and waited until whoever it was passed. The rider got closer, and she looked up to see his face, and caught her breath: it was the singer.
She stayed perfectly still and waited for him to pass. He went a few more feet, and then stopped and dismounted. He bent to look at something on the ground, and then raised his head and looked around.
He stood and lead his horse into the trees.
Deanna quietly tied Krennan's reins to a nearby branch and followed him.
He followed a trail, his head down, until he came to the clearing where Deanna had just been. He walked over to a tree and tied his horses reins to one of the branches and walked around the clearing, looking at the ground.
Deanna hid in the trees, watching him. He crouched down near where she had briefly slept and studied the ground, his back to her.
She walked quietly from the trees and walked over, drawing one of her swords, she held it to his back. He stiffened.
"Don't move," She said.
"You're her aren't you?" He asked.
"Don't talk, either," She said. He stood and turned, the sword not wavering, and now pointed at his chest.
He didn’t sleep good, tossing and turning, and when he did sleep, nightmares showed their unwelcome faces.
He hated what he had become, what he had been forced into. He thought back to why he had resorted to this and sighed, depressed.
He heard a sound behind him and turned, seeing Cadman crawling out of his tent and stretching.
Cadman was a soldier who had been in a similar predicament as Cayle. They had decided to split the reward money.
“How long have you been up?” Cadman asked, seeing Cayle by the fire pit.
“A while,” Cayle answered.
“Couldn’t sleep, could you?” Cadman asked. Cayle shook his head, turning back to the cold fire pit.
There was a long silence.
“What’s for breakfast?” Cadman asked, making Cayle laugh.
“Are you ever not hungry?” He asked. Cadman thought for a moment.
“No, not really,” he said.
Cayle got up and started making breakfast.
*
As they were eating, Finn also came out of his tent, smelling the food. He was a scrawny boy of about eighteen, with light brown hair that fell to his shoulders and covered most of his eyes, creating a veil.
"Can I have some?" He asked. Cayle handed him a plate in answer; Finn took, and, with a nod of thanks, started eating.
He had come with Cadman, as sort of an unofficial squire.
Cayle got up and walked over to the washing bucket and looked up at the sun, sitting above the hills now.
"We had better start moving," He said. Cadman also got to his feet and, after depositing his plate into the bucket, walked towards his tent to start packing it up. Cayle did the same, while Finn continued to eat.
After Cadman and Cayle had finished, they found that, while they had been working, Finn had washed the dishes, and was currently struggling with his tent.
The two men shared a glance, and then walked over to help him.
*
Deanna finally came to a stop, nearly falling out of the saddle from exhaustion.
She had been riding all night, occasionally leading and checking his hoofs. She didn't stop to sleep, but ended up dozing in the saddle.
She dis-mounted and started to lead Krennan again, but she ended up stopping and leaning on him.
"OK, this isn't working," She said, she lead him into the trees, where, after a while, she came across a clearing.
"I just need a few hours sleep," She mumbled as she tied Krennan to a tree. She pulled a blanket from her pack and leaned against the tree. Krennan got down on his knees and neighed quietly.
Deanna opened one of her eyes and saw him watching her. she smiled and moved over and leaned against him instead.
"Thanks, boy," She whispered. A few seconds later, she was asleep.
*
"Where should we start?" Cadman asked, looking up and down the road.
"She should be going to the sea, right?" Finn asked. "So wouldn't it make more sense to go up the road?"
"Yes, but we're not sure if she's going to the sea or not, she could double back, and she's searching for that Herndon, who may or may not exist," Cadman said. Cayle remained quiet, debating on a course.
"I think we should split up," He said finally.
"What?" Cadman asked. "That's insane; what if you find her? I won't be there to protect you."
"I can take care of myself," Cayle responded, a little indignantly. "It will give us a better shot, I can go up the road, while you go down, and then we can meet up in two hours; what could be easier?"
"Getting yourself killed for one thing," Cadman said, crossing his arms.
"Well, do we have a better plan?" Cayle asked. Cadman hesitated, and Cayle seized his advantage, seeing that Cadman was starting to budge.
"Come on, do you have a better plan?" He asked. Again Cadman hesitated.
There was silence, and then Cadman sagged slightly.
"Fine; just try not to get killed," He said, walking over to his horse. "Finn, climb into the wagon."
"See you in two hours, Cadman," Cayle called as he walked over to his own horse. "See you Finn,"
He mounted and sat on his horse and watched as Cadman and Finn went down the road. He turned his horse and started up the road.
*
After an hour, and not finding anything, he thought maybe it was time to turn back.
He started to turn his horse around, when it did something he didn't expect. It neighed, loudly.
"What's wrong?" He asked, surprised. This horse had never done that before.
It ignored him and tried to keep walking, but didn't get far.
"Come on, we have to get back, otherwise they'll think we got ourselves killed," He pleaded. Eventually, the horse gave in and allowed itself to be turned back the way they had come.
When he got back to the meeting point, Cadman and Finn were already there.
"Sorry, the horse started acting strange," Cayle explained as he dismounted. "Did you find anything?"
"Nope, not a thing," Cadman said.
"Maybe we should go out farther," Finn suggested.
"I agree," Cayle said. Cadman sighed.
"I see I'm outnumbered." He said. "I suppose you want to split up again,"
"It's our best shot at finding out which way she went," Cayle said.
"I guess you have a point," Cadman said. "Fine; let's meet up after three hours,"
"Alright, good luck." Cayle said, moving to re-mount.
"You too, and don't get killed, she's very dangerous," Cadman said, moving towards the wagon.
"I'm not an idiot, but I thank you for your concern." Cayle said.
He turned his horse to face up the road again, and let him walk. He heard the wagon also start moving.
*
Krennan woke her up after what she guessed was two hours. She got to her feet and stretched; Krennan also stood.
"Thanks boy," She said, patting his neck. She dug around in her pack and found a treat and gave it to him. He ate it and wickered appreciatively when he had finished.
She untied Krennan's reins and led him out of the trees. She was about to step on the road, when she heard another horse. She stepped back into the shadows of the trees and waited until whoever it was passed. The rider got closer, and she looked up to see his face, and caught her breath: it was the singer.
She stayed perfectly still and waited for him to pass. He went a few more feet, and then stopped and dismounted. He bent to look at something on the ground, and then raised his head and looked around.
He stood and lead his horse into the trees.
Deanna quietly tied Krennan's reins to a nearby branch and followed him.
He followed a trail, his head down, until he came to the clearing where Deanna had just been. He walked over to a tree and tied his horses reins to one of the branches and walked around the clearing, looking at the ground.
Deanna hid in the trees, watching him. He crouched down near where she had briefly slept and studied the ground, his back to her.
She walked quietly from the trees and walked over, drawing one of her swords, she held it to his back. He stiffened.
"Don't move," She said.
"You're her aren't you?" He asked.
"Don't talk, either," She said. He stood and turned, the sword not wavering, and now pointed at his chest.
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