Aerisian Refrain, page 6
part #1 of Beyond the Sunset Series
The Siamthe now singled two or three other people from the crowd, ordering, “Stay with the body until it is fetched. The rest of you—” His gaze swept the crowd. “—may disperse. Justice has been served.”
That was it. There was no explanation, no justification, no rationalization for what he’d done. He simply expected everyone to obey. Which they did.
All around me, the mass shifted as people hurried off whispering among themselves. Stunned by what I’d witnessed, I didn’t move quickly enough. The next thing I knew, again there was nobody between the Simathe and me. Even though I’d been whispering my refrain, and I didn’t think he could see me, it was just like before. He stared directly at the spot where I stood, those weird, alien eyes narrowed as if he knew, he just knew something was off and he was trying to figure out what. I stood stock-still, barely daring to breath.
Then he took a step toward me.
I whirled and ran.
I didn’t stop to see if he was following me. I didn’t dare look back. I ran, my carryon thumping against my back, begging, imploring to go unseen and unheard. Suddenly, it was all too much. The shock of crossing to a strange new place, without being able to remember how I’d gotten there, or why. Realizing I was not only a stranger here, but I was a complete anomaly when I compared my appearance to everyone else’s. Realizing I had some weird power over these people to stop them from seeing me. Watching this non-human warrior hunt somebody down and slaughter him in the streets without a peep of protest from any bystanders. That, coupled with the fact that I somehow knew this very same person, human, non-human, creature—whatever he was—could practically discern my presence when nobody else could was enough to trigger fight or flight.
I’d had enough.
I chose flight.
I chose flight to I didn’t know where, but it felt as if the city walls were closing in on me and I had to get out. I had to breathe. I wasn’t thinking anything through—what was there to debate? If I stayed, if I slipped up and that Simathe found me, would he kill me too? Obviously, I didn’t belong here. So where did that leave me? These Aerisians hadn’t protested one of their own being publically butchered; highly unlikely they’d stick up for me.
All of these wild notions pounded in my head as I ran. Glancing back, I saw no one was following me. That settled me from a wild, pell-mell run that ate up energy and breath to a more regulated pace I could sustain as long as needed. I passed horses tied to hitching rails, and briefly considered taking one. However, I didn’t know if my invisibility would stretch to a mount, so I dropped that idea and just ran. The streets were becoming broader, the houses finer, the shops more upscale. I presumed I was headed towards the main road through the city on which I’d entered last night. Finally, breaking free of an alley, I found myself standing on the broad, cobblestoned thoroughfare.
Pausing my flight, I turned to look at my surroundings. I was breathing lightly, sweating, but far from exhausted. To my right, the street wended its way in the direction of the walls and city gates. To my left, it stretched out between buildings, headed towards the soaring bridge spanning the middle of the city. For a second, I considered going that direction. The bridge looked fabulous. I’d have loved to see it in all its splendor.
No. Memories of the blood recently spilled in this city was far too fresh. At some point, I was going to slip up. Somebody would see me. I couldn’t maintain this refrain forever. It was only a matter of time, and I didn’t want to be trapped inside the city walls with that Simathe when it happened. With slight feelings of regret, I turned to the right. The streets were busy here. I didn’t stop my incessant whispering for even an instant.
As I jogged along, going around people, wagons, carriages, and carts, dodging when I had to, and shoving through when necessary, I kept an eye out for the Simathe. Once, I thought I saw him. The black hair and bronze skin were unmistakable in this sea of fair-haired, fair-skinned Aerisians. He was striding alongside a wagon, purposefully, one hand on his sword hilt and the other on the cart rails as if guarding it. Clearly, whatever the other man had been, he was too, but it wasn’t the same person. The first man’s hair had been shorter, only to his shoulders, while this second Simathe’s was grown well past. I stopped, hidden by the crowd, not daring to move expect for my lips whispering their refrain, watching until the wagon and the Simathe accompanying it had vanished from view down the city street.
I continued on, but before I reached the gates was arrested again by the sight of people almost as strange looking as the Simathe. It was a man and woman, an older man with brilliant white hair and a long, soft beard. His simple robes were the color of rich, dark coffee, as were the woman’s. Although it was clear she was younger than him, given the lack of wrinkles and marks on her smooth skin, her hair was the exact same shade of white. Both of them had blue-green eyes, warm and inviting.
They didn’t look dangerous at all—not like the Simathe. Quite the opposite, in fact. Whereas people had given the two Simathe a broad berth, these two walked along smiling, nodding at everyone they passed. People returned their greetings happily. Children ran up to them. The young woman would stoop to pick them up, hugging them, speaking to them before setting them down again. The old man smiled fondly, reaching out to pat their little blonde heads, smiling like a proud grandpa at each and every one. Everybody seemed to like these two, trust them. As I stood there watching, I wondered if I could too.
Maybe I should let them see me and ask them for help. They wouldn’t attack me or hand me over to that Simathe, surely. They look peaceful. They look trustworthy. They look nice, in fact. Friendly. I could use a friend.
My throat tightened. I could. I really, really could. I could use a friend to reassure me I hadn’t gone completely insane. To promise me there was a way out of this mess and a light at the end of the tunnel. I could use a friend to remind me that someday life would be normal again, even if it was a brand-new normal.
Yeah, like that’s ever going to happen, I thought, forcing away tears.
I wasn’t a crier. Daddy had discouraged it. He’d been all about self-control and believed other people should be too. His life lessons had served me well in my former career, especially when coupled with Stella’s, “Poise, Annie, poise.” All of that training came to the fore now as I watched the white-haired man and woman pass by, letting them go.
It was better to get out of the city, I decided. No matter what, I knew I didn’t want to be trapped in here tonight, unable to escape, if necessary.
I went on toward the gigantic city gates, which were wide open in the warm sunshine. There was a small cluster of guards today, as opposed to the two I’d seen the night before. They really did remind me of legionaries from ancient Rome, with shiny armor, black-plumed helmets, white tunics, and sandals. A few had removed their helmets, probably because the day was so warm, but they still carried themselves with a military bearing. I studied them briefly as I walked unseen out of the city, wondering how they’d react to a foreign woman in their midst who had the power to sneak in and out of their gates completely invisible.
Probably not very well. Hopefully not as violently as that Simathe.
Chapter 9
Caught
Outside the city, I hitched a ride on the back of a wagon like I’d done yesterday. This time, I didn’t bother smothering myself beneath canvas sacks since I knew I could hide myself. The driver had a pair of boys that looked about six years old. Their short blonde hair poked up at crazy angles, their ears stuck out from their heads, freckles were scattered across their noses, and they shared the same bright, mischievous grin. They had to be twins. They chattered, argued, poked each other, and bickered, while their father held the reins loosely in one hand and his pipe in the other, smoking and ignoring his sons.
Once we were well underway, I was able to relax a bit and enjoy the banter, especially since I didn’t have siblings and didn’t know what such family dynamics were like. The kids kept me entertained for the hour or so that we traveled down dirt roads winding their way through mazes of crops, until we approached a stout, two story stone-and-timber farmhouse with brightly painted window boxes full of flowers.
“Home, home!” shouted one boy, bolting upright in his seat.
“Down, lad,” ordered his father around his pipe. “Be there soon enough.”
As he spoke, the door of the farmhouse opened, and a woman in a simple grey gown covered by a white apron stood in the doorframe, waving.
“Mother, mother!” shouted the other twin, also bounding up in his seat.
“Down, lad,” their father said calmly. Clearly, he was used to his children’s antics, and unperturbed by their wildness.
“Can we go to mother? Can we race Silny home?” they begged, bouncing impatiently in their seats. “May we? May we?”
Chuckling, their father drew back on the reins. “Why not? Give my ears a rest from your constant chattering.”
When the boys jumped down off the wagon and took off, so did I. Shouldering my carryon, I made my way back to the main road, leaving the farmer and his family behind. I continued on that road for most of the day, headed I couldn’t tell what direction, but away from the city and toward the towering mountains in the distance. I didn’t meet many travelers, and it was a relief to quit whispering, “Don’t see me; don’t hear me.”
The day was clear and beautiful. Only a few clouds dotted the blue sky. I passed the occasional farmhouse, and even came upon a small village or two where I was able to get a drink from the well. I snitched food from a vendor’s stall, stuffing the outer pockets of my bag with bread and hard cheese to eat later that day. I left that village and struck back out, determined to travel, even though I didn’t know where. I needed to get somewhere, and I needed to find help. I just wanted to feel like I had a handle on my situation before I approached anyone.
When evening came on, I decided I’d better look for a farm or village: anywhere I could find shelter for the night. My luck held, and I came upon a roadside inn as dusk fell. I looked longingly at the inn itself. Through the open windows, their wooden shutters thrown back, I could see people moving around inside. Music was being played on stringed instruments, with rough voices singing along. I could smell hot food, and my stomach cramped in response. I hadn’t eaten a hot meal in a couple of days.
A glass of wine wouldn’t be so bad, either.
It wouldn’t, and I could’ve tried to get in and out, grabbing what I wanted without being noticed. However, I had food and I’d already gotten a drink from the well in the courtyard. Better to avoid large groups and a potential slip-up. Even though my invisibility had lasted so far, I was certain that one Simathe earlier had been onto the fact that I was there. Who was to say someone else might not be able to pick up on my presence too?
Rather than enter the inn, I crept into the stables, stepping around the two or three stable boys with a muttered, “Don’t see me.” As I’d hoped, there was a loft above the horse stalls filled with hay. Even though I hadn’t lived that lifestyle in nearly a decade, I was from a ranch. The sounds and smells of horses didn’t bother me. Knowing there might be mice or even snakes hiding in the hay did, but it was either take my chances with critters or sleep in the forest or on the open road where anything might be lurking about. Curling up in the hay, I ate the food I’d stolen earlier and tried not to think about Earth, about fine dining, five-star hotels with room service, and my comfortable homes in San Francisco, New York City, and Nashville. Loneliness washed over me, tinged with despair, but I didn’t give in. I couldn’t.
You’ll find a way out of this, I promised myself. This isn’t going to be forever.
After eating, I quieted my mind in an effort to sleep while trying not to think of that Simathe stabbing his victim in the street, completely cold, merciless, pitiless. I tried not to wonder for the millionth time where I was or how I’d gotten here, how come I could keep people from seeing me, or why the Simathe had seemed to sense me anyway. I tried to shut my brain down. It took a long time, but at last I was able to catch some sleep.
Until strong hands grabbed me.
Chapter 10
Flight
“Told you I smelled something besides hay and horses,” the man jeered at his companions. “My grandfather, he was half Warkin. They bond with those dragons, y’know. See what the beasts see. Smell what they smell. Some of that dragon blood was passed along to me.”
He puffed out his chest with pride, leering at me in the dim half-light of the stables.
“Is she not strange looking, though?” asked the other man, the man who had grabbed me by my ankles, jerking me plumb out of the loft and to the stable floor.
I’d screamed, but the scream was cut short on impact. The loft wasn’t very high, but it was high enough to knock the wind out of me. Before I could recover, they were on me, one of them grabbing me by the hair and jerking me to my knees. The leader, or the man I assumed was the leader, kept a hand in my hair and held a knife to my neck as I wheezed, struggling to catch my breath.
Blair, Kym, Davin, Jack…where are you guys? I pleaded desperately, but I could barely breathe, much less speak.
“She is,” the last of the three men agreed. “Dark hair, will you look at that?”
“She dyed it,” the first man said bluntly, the one who’d been gibbering about dragons. “No one has hair that color. Simathe are the closest, and she’s no Simathe.”
“Darkness take them,” spat the one who’d jerked me from the loft. “Is she worth anything then?” he asked the leader, who stood over me, grinning down into my face.
“She’s female, so worth something. We lost the load. No one will pay enough for her to offset that, but we deserve some compensation for our toils. Maybe we’ll take a little of our own along the way.” He threw me a wink that made me cringe. “Wint—” He nodded at dragon-man. “Fetch rope from my pack. Syl—have anything for a gag?”
A gag?
Finally, my mind jolted into action. If they gagged me, I couldn’t talk. If I could talk, there was a chance—providing I could get away from the knife—that I could escape, if my strange power of invisibility held.
“No,” I whispered, finally able to inhale. “No need for a gag. I’ll go with you.”
Despite the dim light, I saw the leader’s distrust on his face. “You will, will you?”
“Yes. Just—please, no gag. I feel sick already. Something in my mouth—I’m afraid it’ll make me vomit.”
I willed myself to look as helpless as possible, all the while anger and fear were roiling up inside.
I’m going to get away from you. I’ll escape, and I’ll make you sorry.
I didn’t know how I’d do it, but the urge was there.
The men flicked glances between one another, weighing my promise. Finally, the leader shrugged.
“Very well. But if you scream, you die. You might fetch some gold, but not enough to risk damaging our entire undertaking. Wint—bind her.”
I felt myself dragged to my feet. My hands were pulled together and lashed. Panic struck, but I beat it down.
“I’ve got a bag up in the loft,” I said. “Please, it’s all I have left of my home.”
Again, the three men exchanged looks. The leader jerked his head at the other man, Syl.
“No harm, I suppose. Fetch it. Might bring an extra copper or two.”
Syl shimmied up the ladder and back down, my carryon clasped in his grimy hands.
“Say, what manner of bag is this?” he asked, giving it a shake. “Neither leather nor burlap. Not even canvas.”
“Does it matter?” the one called Wint snarled. “Fetch it. We must make haste if we’re to catch Goroll’s tideracer. Goroll swore he’d not wait, and we don’t wish to be left in Laytrii’s port without a ship.”
“Agreed,” said the leader. “Bring it and let’s go.”
With no further fanfare, they pulled me outside and around the back of the stables. I didn’t know how long they’d been there while I was sleeping before they woke me up, but a stable lad was finishing saddling a third horse and tying down their packs.
“Ah, fine job, lad,” said the leader. “Syl, pay the lad, will you?”
“Aye, Devvs.”
Syl flipped the boy a coin that flashed in the moonlight. He caught it in cupped hands, backing away, babbling his thanks.
I considered hollering to the boy for help, but the knife in my back dissuaded me. Not to mention, I didn’t want to risk getting him hurt, so I kept silent. My bound hands were hidden in the shadows, and even though the kid tossed me a quizzical look as he ran away, he said nothing. As soon he’d disappeared around the corner of the stables, the leader, Devvs, snapped, “Mount up. The lass rides with me to start. We switch off with her every hour to spell the horses. Any questions?”
No one had any. No one except me. A million questions were racing through my mind. Did I try to escape now or wait until I was mounted? Creating a diversion then might be easier, provided I could spook the horse. I chose to wait, carefully noting which animal they tied my carryon to. I didn’t want to leave it behind, not unless I had no choice. It was my one tangible link to my past, to home.
As I’d promised my kidnappers, I kept quiet. I didn’t fight when, after Devvs mounted, Syl came over to assist me up behind his leader. I kept my promise even after he’d gotten me on the horse’s back, and ran his hand caressingly down my thigh, wondering aloud, “Pretty legs in those trousers. Strange clothes, these. Strange for a lass. Strange shoes too,” he said, noticing my running shoes. “Where d’you hail from, girl?”
Luckily, I was spared a reply when Devvs barked, “Does it matter where she hails from? What matters is where she’s going. Some Sanlyn will pay a hefty price to add her to his harem.”
