Read Online Memory Hunted by Christopher Kincaid - Free Book Online Page A

noise didn’t draw them," Kit said, "they are
some distance away. Besides, I am listening." Now I am, anyway. To her ears,
they cracked and crunched loud enough to be heard for miles. "You should have told
me about that plant." She plucked a burr from her left ear.
    "I tried. I stuffed some oats in a pocket for you before
we left." Timothy whispered. His foot snapped a stick. He winced. "We can make something
to help with the itch." He muttered about how much noise they were making and fumbled
with a low tree branch, only to have it slap him in the face. Kit shook her head
and smiled. As worthless as her shepherd was, he always tried to consider her needs.
She wondered if seeing a village she barely remembered was worth all of this.
All that she put Timothy through. Her smile faded. She hadn’t shared her doubts
about the journey with him. After her grandmother died, even a small chance of
remembering her roots seemed worth it. Not to mention it would have been an
adventure. 
    Some adventure it turned out to be. I
spent all my time being hounded. She watched Timothy
tangle himself in a patch of brambles. At least I found someone who accepts
me for me just as Grammie did. But what will I do after all of this? What will I
do when I don’t have to run anymore?
    We haven’t escaped, she
thought. Not yet. Even if they left the forest, Daeric would find them. She
knew that to her tail. She was finished with being hunted, with running. She was
going to have to kill again, just as she did Evelyn. None of it would end if she
didn’t. She was going to have to kill all of them. Maybe then she could finally
show her tail to the sun without worrying.

    Balwar Tren squished through the muddy snow. Fatigue
gripped him after the long march. The men had grumbled about marching through the
other night, but the risk of their camp being attacked by heretics was too great.
At least now they had a solid palisade around them. It wasn’t a city wall, but it
was better than nothing. He wished his men had been assigned swords or spears instead
of halberds. Halberds were almost useless in this dense forest. The pole arms were
excellent for holding city streets and breaking up riots, but here, the weapons
tangled in brambles and caught on tree limbs.
    Anything could lurk in these woods.
    Balwar walked among the men as they filed into one of
the many empty barracks. On his right walked Lieutenant Dalton. On Balwar’s left
stalked Captain Tredere. The captain watched the soldiers file past with a grimace.
Balwar’s men outnumbered the threadbare garrison Tredere commanded by a wide margin.
The Captain’s red-and-gray-streaked hair stuck out from under a cap that covered
him to his ears. He wore a faded and stained brown shirt with matching trousers.
He looked far different from the polished commanders Balwar spoke with at the Vatican.
Despite the march, Dalton’s dirty uniform looked resplendent next to the captain.
    "My reports are uncertain about how many heretics we
face. Do you have any numbers, Captain?" Balwar clenched his jaw to keep from yawning.
Dalton scratched his graying beard.
    Tredere gazed at Balwar and then at Dalton. The captain’s
wind-burned forehead furrowed.
    Balwar suppressed a sigh. These military men are all
so touchy about rank, Balwar thought. But then I guess we are too. He
produced a piece of paper from his robes. "I was ordered to act as an advisor. Command
of the men transfers to you, Captain." Until otherwise, anyway.
    The man frowned at the paper but didn’t bother to take
it. "Sending an Inquisitor shows the See’s opinion of my command."
    Dalton yawned hard enough to crack his jaw.
    The captain’s blue eyes locked on to the lieutenant.
Dalton shrugged and met the man’s gaze.
    "You may retire," Tredere said.
    Dalton sagged. "Thanks, sir. I feared much longer I’d
have to have someone carry me." He grinned. "My wife had to do that once. She needed
only one arm too."
    Tredere raised an eyebrow.
    Dalton