Discovery

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Hannah left the blacksmith with her new knives, one at her hip and one hidden under her shirt, and instructions to throw the knife a hundred times each evening. The joke was on him because she didn’t know how to count to a hundred.

Being in the forest now felt almost like home. While ever changing, it took on a sameness that she felt comfortable with. A dozen times she saw trees that made good targets and she estimated the distance for the throws and imagined the knife spinning in the air and striking the trunk. However, she also imagined missing her throw and the knife spinning off into the forest where she couldn’t find it again, so the throws remained imaginary.

Twice she returned to the road and walked until she found it. Then she slipped back into the cover of the trees and continued on her way. After climbing a hill, the view of the far side revealed a valley filled with farms. It was not where they had taken the wagon, but the one after. She was getting close. She recognized a large farmhouse made of layers of logs, each distinct from the others as the house had several additions. Probably as another child or two were born a new room had been added. It gave the house a personality, something she could understand and appreciate.

Four times she spotted men on horseback patrolling the road. Twice more she found men hidden, watching the road and the people, no doubt searching for a blonde girl. She repeatedly used her thumb to smear soot along her hairline and imagined it dripping down with her sweat. She must look awful, but as long as she looked male and dark haired, she might not be noticed.

Instead of taking the road, as Hannah had when traveling it before, she skirted around the valley as Sir James had taught her. When she saw a flock of sheep and the dog that guarded them, she made a wider circle. The barking dog would alert anyone in the area. It took longer to go around, but she had little choice.

As the day wore on, she tired and wished for a nap, but didn’t slow. In the late afternoon, as the sun sank low enough to touch the tops of the trees, a rough voice stilled her as it said, “If you were a deer you’d have an arrow in you and I’d be taking home venison to make jerky.”

She turned slowly, trying to act calm despite her heart beating so hard the boy who had crept up behind her must hear it. She said, “What are you doing?”

The boy, a few years older than her was dressed in the homespun clothing of a farmer. He wore a straw hat that flopped down on one side as if it had been crushed and wouldn’t retake its original shape. His freckles formed a mustache across his nose, and the faint growth of a future beard darkened his cheeks. He held up his bow and said, “Isn’t it obvious?”

“You are hunting for deer?”

“Nope. Girls. Well, one of them, anyhow. Probably the same one as you.”

Hannah realized he had given her an excuse to be sneaking around in the forest. “The princess?”

“Ever hear of such a thing?” the boy asked, sitting on a convenient log and pulling off a boot. He shook it and watched the contents fall.

Hannah couldn’t help herself. “They say she’s pretty.”

“Pretty is what the gold is they’ll pay for her.”

“Gold? I heard it was silver.”

“That was a day or two ago. Gold now. What’s that black all over your face?”

“Soot from helping the blacksmith.”

“You apprenticing?”

She didn’t know what that was, but it sounded like she should. “No, just helping a friend.”

“Well, he should repay you with a bucket of water. Say, there’s a stream at the foot of this hill with a swimming hole. What say we go skinny dipping?”

Hannah shook her head. “Nope, if that girl is around here, I intend to find her and collect. But next time I’m around here it would be fun.”

“You’re right, I guess. We should keep searching so we can get rich. I live in the valley down there,” he pointed. “Whitewashed barn, mostly my work last year.”

“When I return, I’ll stop in and maybe we can take that swim.” She turned to leave.

“Hey, you never told me where you live.”

She pointed as she walked, “Over that way. In the tall trees.” To herself, she added, with a sorceress.

The words almost pulled her up short. With a sorceress. Hannah had made her mind up that the woman called Evelyn would take her in. She had been helpful to Sir James and Hannah, but there had been nothing to indicate she would. What if she didn’t?

The sorceress could still help, Hannah decided. She could teach Hannah a few spells, and after all, Evelyn had said she needed a few coins and Hannah had plenty coins to pay the sorceress. Hannah would pay for the information and knowledge of who might house and feed her. And perhaps Evelyn knew of other sorceresses who could find Hannah a place to live for a long while, where she could study magic.

Hannah glanced over her shoulder more than once, making sure the farmer boy was not stalking her, and others as well. She moved to the far end of the valley before nightfall. The day turned chilly, and black, ominous clouds threatened a storm.

Hannah wanted a snug place, warm fire, and the security to sleep all night without waking in fear. Drawing a deep breath, she decided she would have none of the three this night. The wind picked up, and she added a windbreak to his wish list and spotted a shelf of rock almost immediately. The wind came from the east, and if she huddled below the shelf of rock, the wind would pass over her. At least, that was the idea as she spread her blanket around herself and squatted down.

She reached into the bag and pulled out a few stale nuts, broken salted crackers, and the last carrot. Again, there would be no fire to act as a beacon for those she wanted to avoid. Odd that fire had started this adventure, and her smallest finger could ignite one, yet she had to avoid them. It was almost funny. Almost, but not really.

She looked up at the sky and wished for the stars to appear, but the heavy clouds prevented any light from penetrating. The night grew as dark as any she had experienced. The wind whipped around, and she tucked the bottom of the blanket under herself as she listened for any intruders or animals. Animals didn’t scare her, but men did. None should be on the move tonight unless they were up to no good.

Once she thought she heard talking over the wind, or perhaps carried by it. The expected rain didn’t fall, and she thanked six of the gods above for that relief. The trees over her bent in the stiff wind and Hannah remembered the fallen trees and those with tops broken off that she had seen throughout the forest. She could be crushed if one of them fell on her. The image built in her mind and expanded until she sat with her eyes looking up in near terror.

When she managed to close them, she slept a deep but restless sleep that didn’t provide much rest. The dawn provided light that filtered through dense clouds, but not much heat. She stood, wrapped the blanket around herself and started walking with her head hung low and eyes focused on the ground in front of her.

The road still ran parallel to her direction, but she felt the need to check after becoming lost the day before. Or was it two days? When she located the road across the vista of farmlands, she sat and watched. Riders prominently traveled the road from one end of the valley to the other, then back again. Show.

The word sprang into her mind. They were not there to capture her; they were there for show. For her to see. And when she saw them she would do one of a few things. She might hide and remain hidden until she ran out of food, or she might run away from them. If the riders were for display as she believed, they were there to herd her. They would funnel her into a trap they’d set.

Where and how? They closed the road to her, so she assumed they were patrolling all roads and doing much the same. For most people running, that would mean they would head back to the relative safety of the King’s Palace. If the riders prevented her from going farther from the palace, they could eventually close their net and force her to return or reveal herself.

The third possibility was that the patrols were to keep her off the road and moving in the forest. Which she was doing. She felt a chill colder than the morning air. Hannah tried to consider what her enemies thought. They would decide that if Hannah is not inside the Palace, and not on the road, someone is hiding her. Either that or she is wandering in the forest.

What would I do if it was me searching? Hannah thought about it. She knew. She would send the hunters to the farthest places a girl could run in two days along the roads and begin a house to house search. The reward money would draw more people hunting her. Even those not after her would search, like the farmer boy last night. Whole families would be hunting her. Farmers would keep their eyes on the forests searching for the girl worth a treasure.

Without her disguise, several would have already found her. Only the blacksmith had suspected, and he had ignored who she was. She felt certain that he knew, but for reasons of his own, he ignored her and the reward.

She squatted on the hillside and watched. Three men on horses were moving back and forth, scattered, so one always saw everything on the road ahead. A wagon appeared, the back of it filled with men in uniform. The wagon pulled to a stop at the head of the valley, and the men climbed out, one taking charge. Hannah couldn’t hear the words, but at a wave of his arm, they split into two groups, one on either side of the road, perhaps five or six men in each group. They headed for the nearest farm, searching every barn, house, outbuilding, and hiding place.

From the hillside, she watched them push a farmer aside as they forcibly entered his house. When the dog barked too much or attacked a searcher, a sword stabbed the dog, and it fell. It was a warning. The farmer backed off and controlled his other dog, but his head kept looking at his dog and the soldiers kept their weapons in hand.

Two more wagons arrived, and more soldiers piled out, again on both sides of the road. The same one who directed the others pointed to the sides of the valley, to the tree line and almost directly at Hannah. Ten men on each side of the road. Ten soldiers started walking to the forest to begin their search.

Hannah had seen enough. She now knew where the soldiers were, and if she moved quickly, they would remain behind her. She went into the forest to prevent an accidental sighting from below and moved quickly and quietly to the end of the valley and over the few hills that separated it from the next valley.

There she waited and watched, heart pounding because she didn’t see the farmhouse where they’d gotten the wagon. She counted to four, and it was not the right farm on either side is the road. It’s at the other end of the valley. Her heart rate slowed, but only a little as she watched the groups of soldiers searching the farms. Others patrolled the road, and she assumed still others were searching the forest where she hid.

The soldiers searching the houses were on the third farm on both sides of the road. If they were doing as in the last valley, they had already searched where she sat, and they were now moving through the trees about the same distance as where the crews on the ground searched. All she had to do was move no faster than them. Behind them, where they had already searched would be the last place they would think to search again.

She imagined the soldiers in the forest, spread out, but within sight of each other and moving at the same rate, looking under and bushes, in the trees above, and behind boulders. If she moved carefully, she could catch up enough to hear them talk. But it was not a game. If one returned for any reason, he would spot her, and she didn’t want to guess what would happen.

Since they started on the road, she decided to enter the forest deeper and move slowly, slower than any soldier would, to avoid accidental encounters. While moving, her hand went to the knife between her shoulders and she pulled it just a hair, just enough to allow it to slide out easier. She let go and reached again and again until her hand knew exactly where the knife sat. As if the hand had a memory of its own, her fingers found, and gripped the hilt where she needed to, if she threw it.

A broken branch still weeping sap told her a soldier had forced his way through a stand of small trees. An overturned rock still wet on the bottom told her she was moving too fast and getting too close. She slowed and waited, listening for a shout of discovery or for one soldier to call to another. She heard nothing but the rustling of leaves and the whisper of the wind in the grass.

In her mind, she built a map of the valley and compared it to the distance she believed she had traveled. The valley was smaller and shorter. She’d moved the length of the valley or most of it. On impulse, she turned in the direction of the road and ran. When she came to the edge of the trees, the valley spread out below.

Her eyes went to the fourth farmhouse, the one where the farmer lived alone. A new wagon sat in front of the barn, and a young mule ate the grass in the pasture. She allowed herself a smile; then movement in the valley caught her attention.

Soldiers were leaving the trees at the far side of the valley. They headed for the wagons waiting to carry them. Men filled one of the wagons. She looked at the last farms and found two groups searching them. The men already in the wagon were from her side of the valley. Probably.

She waited and watched. Before long, all the men were loaded into four wagons and rolled in the direction of the Palace. She breathed easier and stood. As she turned, she found a man standing ten paces away, an evil smile lighting up his face.

“I have nothing to steal,” she said.

“Not planning on stealing, little lady. I’m planning on making my fortune.”

She didn’t feel excited or in danger. The man was small, thin, and his beard held streaks of gray. If she could get a few steps in front, he couldn’t catch her. As if reading her mind, he came closer.

“You’re the one they want.”

“That’s silly. I’m a boy.”

“Liar. I can see right past that soot. It’s you, all right.”

Hannah shrugged. The man wouldn’t be convinced. “They’ll kill me.”

“None of my business,” he said, then spat and flashed a smile that was anything but funny. His clothing hung on him as if he had been heavier at one time. Maybe he was ill or had fallen on hard times, but still a good man.

“I said they'd kill me.”

“And they’ll give me enough gold to buy a whole village. Maybe a tavern where I can serve myself free ale.” He laughed a throaty sound and moved another step closer as he pulled the large knife from his hip. “Don’t you even think about runnin’.”

She was not thinking about running. She thought that one more step closer would bring him to the distance of the post at the blacksmiths. I wish I had more practice. “Just let me go.”

“Yer going all right. I’m taking you to the soldiers down there.” He stepped the one more step closer, slowly and carefully, looking ready to grab her if she ran.

Her hands raised as if in surrender and he visibly relaxed, but her right hand slipped behind her neck to the black knife. She drew it and threw, as the blacksmith had taught her, fast and with power, and her feet were already running to the path on her left when the knife struck him in the chest and froze her in place.

The thin blade of the knife had gone all the way into the hilt, and that was all that remained in sight. The man looked down at it in surprise, his eyes wide. He opened his mouth to say something, but his legs gave way, and he fell forward, limp as if all his bones had been magicked away by a mage.

Hannah waited for more movement, but there were none. Pulling the other knife from her hip, she went closer and warily touched him with her foot. He was dead. She had killed a man. She fell to her knees and shook, the fear and anger combining into a turmoil of conflicting emotions. She vomited. She hugged herself and tried to tell herself she had no choice. But she had killed a man.

The result that might have been if she had not thrown the knife didn’t matter. Not really. His cold, dead eyes watched her. She moved to where she couldn’t see them.

Hannah steeled herself and reached for the hilt. It resisted, then came out suddenly. She pulled the knife all the way free and wiped the blade on his shirt while looking at the fine knife he still held gripped in his dead fingers. He’d probably stolen it from some wealthy man along the road, but Hannah wanted no part of it or anything else he owned. She wiped the blade again as if there might be lingering blood on it.

Then she turned to retrace the last part of her journey.