Retribution

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

They slept in the barn on fresh-cut hay. Before sunrise, Prin woke and climbed to where both men were sleeping on the path. She was pleased no animals had drug them off during the night, then decided that if one had, she wouldn’t have been too upset.

She stood and watched them for a time, one snoring and one drooling in the dirt, but felt little pity. Her fingers located another of the grapes enchanted with the spell to forget all, and placed it on the ground between them. Remembering the shallow graves of innocent travelers behind the barn, she used her heel to grind the grape until she felt it pop, then held her breath until she was several steps away and the air dissipated the mist.

Her mind no longer felt cluttered and angry. Instead of waking Brice and getting an early start, she crawled back under her blanket and fell into a restful sleep. When the sun rose, so did they. Brice’s swore his ankle had healed. She thought he lied, but kept it to herself and would remain watchful. They would stop for the day if he began to limp.

They ate more eggs. She was tempted to try cooking a chicken but wanted to leave and put some distance between them and the farm. Catching, butchering, and cooking a chicken would take too long.

Or not. Prin went to gather more eggs to scramble and while there selected a fat hen and cornered it in the pen. She grabbed it by its feet and used a string to tie them together, then carried it upside-down to the cabin after turning the others loose. After eating, she tied it to her backpack and planned for a good meal at the end of the day. Chickens raced into the yard, clucking and searching for snacks.

Brice said, “Ready to leave?”

“Almost,” she said. Turning, she looked out over the farm from the path, then turned to the two men still sleeping peacefully. The sight of them brought the anger welling up inside.

She said, “Want to practice throwing fire?”

“You do it.”

She cast a ball of flame at the hay-barn first, then one at the tool shed. Each ignited the sun-dried wood and burst into flames that spread before she could cast more fire. The outhouse burst into flame before she cast fire at it, and for a second she was confused. Then she heard Brice cackle.

He said, “I thought I’d join in on the fun. Can I set fire to the next?”

“Of course. I shouldn’t have all the fun. Besides, there are no other nearby farms to cause alarm.”

Within a few heartbeats, every structure was on fire, the animals fleeing, and they turned their backs to the farm and headed for Peermont’s capital city. They didn’t pass another farm until late afternoon. Prin’s initial reaction was to avoid it, but as they walked past, a woman stepped to the doorway and waved. Both Prin and Brice returned the wave but didn’t stop.

The only vegetation in sight was gnarled and grew less than knee high. Almost as much tan colored rock as tan dirt showed on the road, and Prin started to worry about the lack of water. Perhaps they should have stopped and filled their canteens at the previous farm. As her worry increased, they walked to the top of a small rise and looked down at a wide river with lush, almost impenetrable walls of green on either side.

The sea lay somewhere off to their right, but too far away to see. From their elevated position, the twin banks of green continued until lost in the distance, broken by what appeared neat squares of tilled farmland.

The sail of a small boat skimmed across the muddy water of the river that was twice as wide as the Indo, but it moved in a sluggish manner evident even from the distance they watched. Prin’s eyes traveled upriver to a larger boat, one without sails. Men rowed while sitting, the oars moving in unison.

“Different,” Brice muttered.

“See a road?”

“Let’s move closer. There must be one.”

Their voices were quiet as if someone nearby might overhear. Prin felt the first twinge of fear that her plan may not work. But she forced the fear away and squared her shoulders. Her idea had to work.

The dry air gave way to cooler temperatures as they neared the river. Within the shelter of overhanging trees, it almost felt cool, and they located the expected road. Prin turned to face upriver on the road could move a single wagon through the ruts and holes, many filled with water. The water in the holes was clear, an indication no wagons had rolled this way for a while, but didn’t tell if people had skirted around them, as she and Brice were doing.

She watched for footprints in the soft mud at the edges and within a few steps located some pointing in the same direction. However, none appeared recent. She saw no more farms or cabins, but the land was low and marshy and probably flooded every spring, so farms were probably located on higher ground.

Brice slipped and almost fell in the slippery mud, bringing a snort of humor from Prin. His face reddened, and he snapped, “Okay, I’ve tried to figure out why we’re going this way and can’t. You need to go to the King’s Palace in Wren, not off on some other adventure.”

“Just because you almost fell doesn’t mean you can yell at me.”

“Who’s here to listen?”

“Not the point,” Prin said, still smirking in the way only siblings can. “I thought you’d figure it out.”

“I haven’t. If we go this way, we’ll have to retrace our route. That may take ten or fifteen days.”

“A month is my guess.”

“Month? I thought you were in a hurry to help King Willard before another king has an accident,” Brice said, his voice rising again.

“Listen, calm down. We need help to do this, you and me. We can’t barge in like we planned. Look at what happened on the ship with so many people hunting the rewards for me. In Wren, it will be ten times worse.”

“We’re getting help?”

“I already told you. Peermont and Wren are sister kingdoms, and they used to be ruled by one family. My mother is from Peermont, and she was a Royal. That means I am too. I’m probably somewhere in their Line of Succession too, but that’s why we’re here. To get help.”

Brice pulled up and waited for her to turn around. “You are aware that Peermont is at war with the Dry Lands of Ansel, right? They’ve been fighting for control of the coastal lowlands for over a generation and Ansel is winning, from what I hear.”

Prin placed her hands on her hips and said, “All that is true, and from that, you should be able to determine why this is where I must go for help.”

“To a kingdom losing a war that cannot spare a military escort?”

“Exactly.”

“Prin, I have to admit that you’re smarter than me—most of the time, but not today.”

“You are my knight?”

“I am.”

“Then, we will proceed to the capital city of Calverton and meet with King Edward.”

She turned and walked away as regal as any monarch in history, and eventually, Brice followed. He jogged to catch up and said, “I suppose I’m going to sound stupid again, but you do know we’re in the disputed lowlands, right?”

“I do. But we are just travelers attempting to find a new market for our father’s weavings. He’s a respected carpet maker in Gallium, and we are searching for new buyers and do not take sides in local wars.”

Brice shook his head in wonder, probably amazed at the speed and depth of lies Prin could tell. He said, “I know nothing about carpets.”

“Of course not, you’re the stupid wayward son who takes no interest in the family business. Anyone can see that.”

“You don’t either, except you walk on them.”

Prin said, ending the exchange, “Of course not, I am in sales and expansion, not production. We hire people to do our weaving and buy supplies. Didn’t I tell you we were successful and came here to find new markets?”

Brice silently fell into step behind her. She strode on, keeping a sharp watch for others, especially any military. She didn’t wish to use her explanations on anyone who might be clever enough to see through her story.

Ahead, a startled deer leaped from the waist-high grass on the left of the road, all the way to the right, without ever touching the road. It had turned its head in mid-leap, looking behind itself instead of at Brice and her. In the heat of the day, deer tend to rest and hide, only venturing out to graze at sunup and sundown. Something besides her and Brice had scared it.

Prin dropped to one knee, senses alert. She didn’t have to turn to look at Brice. The sounds of him kneeling were obvious, and she knew he would take her lead without question. Ahead might be a coyote or bear. Deer flee for any sound, noise, or even a dead branch falling from a tree. Their survival depends on fleeing at the slightest provocation. A field mouse might have startled the deer.

Or, a soldier, highwayman, assassin, or mad killer. If a person or persons were ahead, and if they were friendly, they would have shown themselves. She shook her head. No, if they were friendly but scared, people would react just like her. Ahead might be a frightened girl and her brother, scared to emerge and face Prin and Brice.

“We might stay here all day if we do nothing,” Prin said.

“Shh, we’ll wait them out. Move slowly to the side of the road and slip into the grass ten or twenty paces and hide.”

The advice Brice gave was correct, even if it sat wrong with her. She didn’t like hiding. Facing a challenge was more to her style, but she crept to her left, careful not to leave footprints or scuffs, and especially to be careful not to flatten grass with her clumsy feet.

Brice pointed. A small juniper spread out a few steps further ahead. It grew only knee-high, but that was enough. They laid behind it, facing the road, but where they couldn’t be seen. Peering through the green/blue of the juniper, the road was visible.

Prin realized she liked the smell of Juniper, a sharper tang than cedar, but similar. Her nose was comparing the two when she heard a soft noise like a scuff of a foot on the hard-packed road.

“You’re sure you saw something?” A whisper floated on the dead air.

“Shut up and keep your eyes open.”

Prin remained still and watched two men wearing military uniforms creep along the road, their eyes watching to either side, but not at the roadbed where footprints were most likely to be found. Her opinion of them as effective soldiers decreased. She might have identified herself if the colors were blue and white, but instead, they wore green with red piping. Green was the color Ansel troops wore.

She watched them pass by, supposedly alarmed yet they hadn’t pulled their weapons from the sheath. If Prin wore two throwing knives, she could have killed both. But she was not at war with them and didn’t want a confrontation, especially if it meant she might be taken to Ansel and questioned. If they managed to learn her true identity, they would hold her for ransom, even though Peermont had no idea she existed.

If there were two soldiers, there were more nearby. She watched them disappear down the road. However, she couldn’t hope for deer to warn her of their presence in the future.

She whispered, “We can’t leave the road in this marshland.”

“Our feet will sink to our knees,” he agreed.

“But if we stay on the road we’ll be stopped. I guess we just have to be prepared with a good story.”

Brice smiled. “Your story will work. I’m not a good of a liar, so you do the talking. Do you think we should age ourselves and continue as older people?”

“No. That weakens our story about searching for new markets. I do wish we had samples of weavings, but they are being shipped and should arrive in Calverton after a few days.” She paused, thinking of what else might be problems. “What’s in your backpack that will give us away?”

“Nothing.”

“I have other spells in my second purse, but it’s inside my waistband and hopefully will be safe.”

Brice said, “If they find it?”

“Then they’re looking where they shouldn’t be. But I’ll claim they are samples of dyes and softeners for weaving and tell them to squeeze one of the grapes for themselves. I guess we need to stand up and walk on the road like two innocent visitors to this strange land.”

The two soldiers on patrol were still out of sight, so they stood and began walking. Shortly after reaching the location where the deer bolted, they rounded a slight bend in the road and found an encampment of twenty or more soldiers. Several turned to them in alarm. One shouted, “Hey, what are you doing?”

One, dressed in a uniform with red piping and a few gold decorations, strode purposefully in their direction, waving back the others. “I am Captain Hans. How did you get past my men?”

“We hid behind a juniper,” Prin said in a tone as if that response was the most natural thing in the world, and the question was silly. Her attitude and stance were those of confident young women who encountered people of a lesser social grade.

The officer puffed himself up and pulled to a stop a full step closer to her than was socially acceptable. Prin rolled her eyes and watched his anger flare.

“Who are you?” He demanded, spittle spraying.

She sighed with obvious disgust as she wiped at her clothing while pretending to remove any spittle that reached her. She raised her eyes to meet his. “I am Prin, and this is my brother Brice. We’re on our way to Calverton for a business meeting with the owner of a store that sells weavings.”

The officer didn’t back down. “You look too young to be in any business meeting.”

She glanced at Brice and shrugged as if tired of explaining the same things over and over. “How many of you are going to tell me that? Our Father owns the business, and his father before him also. Brice will own it someday, but for now, we are traveling to make useful contacts. After Calverton, we move on to Wren, and then Indore. Does that anticipate all the boring questions you were going to ask?”

Brice said, “Prin, you need to stay calm and be nice to the soldier. If not, he may hold us up because he’s an officer and very powerful.”

Prin recognized Brice’s move in pumping up the officer, and amazingly, it seemed to be working. She played the ingenue, and he complimented the soldier—a powerful duo. She took his lead and reached out to the officer’s uniform and ran the tips of her fingers down the material.

He was startled and stepped back, but she moved forward. “Is this standard issue for your army? Nice material. Looks good and I’ll bet it’s durable, right?”

“Uh, yes. I guess so.”

She moved closer, using the same intimidation trick he’d attempted. Prin decided he was barely older than her, perhaps twenty, and from his pink cheeks, he probably had little experience with the opposite sex.

Prin noted the other soldiers had stepped back, lowered their weapons, and were trying to hide smiles. She asked in her little-girl voice, “All this stopping and asking questions is delaying us. Can I be so bold as to ask you to write me a military pass that will tell the next, not so handsome officer, that you have cleared us?”

“Uh, I guess I could.”

She slipped ahead before he could retreat and looped her arm with his elbow while fawning over his dark eyes. “May I walk with you while you get your pen and ink? And what is your name, sir?”

He muttered a name she didn’t remember and squeezed his bicep while oohing and cooing about how strong he was. At the edge of the duty tent, he quickly sketched out a few lines and signed the pass. “Would you like to eat the noon meal with me?”

“I wish I could, but we are already behind schedule.” Prin saw the disappointment and a flash of anger in his eyes. She quickly added, “But if you are still assigned here in ten days when I return, I’d love to eat with you. Maybe a long dinner with only candles?”

He puffed himself up again and quickly agreed. Brice remained within sight, but out of the way. With the pass in hand, Prin strode in his direction and mouthed, “Let’s go.”

They took the path north again, walking fast, but not running. A glance behind found the officer standing in the middle of the road looking very pleased with himself.

Brice said, “Well done.”

“No, I was obstinate, and you were the one that was nice, at first. That showed me the way.”

Brice flashed a lopsided grin. “But I didn’t play a tease with him. Your over-friendliness and quick thinking got us that pass. I wonder if it’s any good.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be showing it to anyone wearing blue and white, but he gave the impression we will encounter more of Ansel’s green uniforms before we meet Peermont’s.”

The ground remained soggy and soaked through the leather of their boots. Prin felt her wet feet getting sore and considered removing the boots, but before she could suggest it, a pair of soldiers stepped from the side of the road, hands resting on their swords.

Prin kept walking while considering how she could draw her throwing knife and let it fly at one, then while the other turned to his partner to find out what happened, she could pull the short blade inside her belt, run up to him, and gut the second soldier like a carp.

They were not experienced, front-line battle-hardened troops. Both were young and nervous. She pulled the military pass and continued walking as if in a city park. “Hello. We have a pass signed by your officer. He said that any delays for us and you’d answer to him.”

The younger of the two whispered from the side of his mouth, “Can you read?”

“No. You neither?”

Brice said, “You want me to read it to you?”

“No, sir. You may pass.”

When Prin was sure they couldn’t hear her, she said, “There’s a lesson for us. Officers can write and read, but most soldiers can’t. That pass could have said to apprehend and execute us.”

They went through three more checkpoints, all without incident, except for one where a guard wanted to ask if tying their boots on their backpacks and carrying them helped. Brice said to them as they kept walking, “It helps for a while, but now the bottoms of my feet are getting raw. How long to dry land?”

“The lowlands start to rise just past here. Good footing as far as being dry, but it gets rocky, and you can turn an ankle. Be careful.” The guard glanced at the upside-down pass as if he could read it. Then he said, “You better watch out up ahead. You’ll reach a Peermont checkpoint before nightfall, at least it was there last time we checked.”

Prin said, “It’s been a long war, huh?”

“We’re getting ready for a big push and end it. Stockpiling materials and men over on the bank of the river.”

The man with him jabbed him in the ribs. “Shut up.”

The first appeared angry, then said, “Don’t spread that information around, huh?”

Brice said, “Don’t worry, you haven’t told us anything we didn’t already know.”

A short while later, Brice looked at Prin’s face and asked, “Why the smile?”

“Because we have a point to bargain with we didn’t have, earlier. This is good. Very good.” Prin’s step was lighter.

“Good that the kingdom of Peermont, which is ruled by your relatives, is about to lose a war?”

“Exactly. Very good.”