of coffee. To avoid drawing attention to themselves, they’d not made a fire since entering Cumberland so the nights were cold and the mornings a coffee-less, frosty headache. But the strategy had worked. No soldiers or robbers had set on them during the night. During the day, the road, more of a narrow, often steep path through the mountains, was quiet except for the sound of their horses kicking through the leaves. By good luck, they’d avoided thieves. Or, if bandits had seen them, they’d had a sliver of compunction at robbing Maker’s men.
As Degarius rubbed the other eye, Kieran’s blurry figure flagged them to stop. Damn it, it would be his luck to meet bandits after congratulating himself for avoiding them. One hand went to his sword; the other straightened his glasses. Far ahead, a doe was grazing roadside. Had Kieran stopped to watch her? The animal held its head attentive, took a few steps into the brush, and then returned to eating. Degarius relaxed his sword hand.
Kieran dismounted in a slow slide and gave Miss Nazar the reins. He crouched low and stalked the doe with a high-stepping gait. The doe flicked her tail and bounded into the woods. Three other deer previously hidden in the evergreen brush darted across the road. Kieran disappeared after them.
“What’s he doing?” Degarius wondered aloud. Kieran hadn’t taken his bow. “Does he mean to take it with a knife? I’m not stopping to cook.”
A cry, half surprise and half agony, cut through the cacophony of birdcalls.
Silence.
A man’s shout, not Kieran’s, and the rustle of footsteps in the forest carried through the hush. They were coming nearer.
Degarius drew Assaea.
Miss Nazar was ahead of him with Kieran’s horse. A thief in the woods could kill her with an easy shot. “Get off your horse and get behind it,” Degarius said. If they tried to ride away now, they’d be shot in the back. And a sword was no good at a distance. Degarius resheathed his sword, dismounted, took his bow, and ducked behind his animal—the only thing Cumberlandians would guess a monk had of value. They wouldn’t risk wounding it.
Degarius glanced to Miss Nazar. She was holding the Blue Eye. If she had to use it, the advantage of surprising the Gherians with it was gone, but at least they’d be alive.
A Cumberlandian, clad in simple leather clothes, came from the forest. He wore his bow slung over his back and was supporting a hopping Kieran—a shaft stuck out from his thigh, near his hip. In Anglish, with a drawling Cumberland accent, he said, “I live up the hill. For three years I apprenticed a surgeon in Acadia.” Slowly, so as not to appear threatening, he held up an arrow with a brutal-looking three-bladed flared tip. “Without dowels, it’s hard to remove and he’ll bleed out soon. I meant to kill a deer, not a holy man.”
Degarius released the tension on the bowstring and lowered the bow. If the man had wanted to kill them, he wouldn’t have bothered to be burdened with Kieran.
Arvana tied the horses to the fence around the Cumberland home while Degarius and the Cumberlandian carried Kieran to the house. Over his shoulder, Degarius called, “Get the tarp.” She found it in the pack and then ran to catch up.
A woman, far along with child, stood in the doorway. Four children poured out around her. From the garden, an older girl appeared with her apron sagging with apples. The little ones raced to her.
Her arms full with the tarp as she entered, Arvana brushed the woman’s very round stomach. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry. The baby kicks a hundred times harder.” The woman spoke in a clear Acadian accent. Why was she living here? She returned Arvana’s quizzical look, probably guessing straight off that Arvana wasn’t a man and wondering why she was dressed as one. She pointed to the back of the house. “The bedroom is there.”
The small house was remarkably familiar. Like her home in Sylvania, it was built around a
As Degarius rubbed the other eye, Kieran’s blurry figure flagged them to stop. Damn it, it would be his luck to meet bandits after congratulating himself for avoiding them. One hand went to his sword; the other straightened his glasses. Far ahead, a doe was grazing roadside. Had Kieran stopped to watch her? The animal held its head attentive, took a few steps into the brush, and then returned to eating. Degarius relaxed his sword hand.
Kieran dismounted in a slow slide and gave Miss Nazar the reins. He crouched low and stalked the doe with a high-stepping gait. The doe flicked her tail and bounded into the woods. Three other deer previously hidden in the evergreen brush darted across the road. Kieran disappeared after them.
“What’s he doing?” Degarius wondered aloud. Kieran hadn’t taken his bow. “Does he mean to take it with a knife? I’m not stopping to cook.”
A cry, half surprise and half agony, cut through the cacophony of birdcalls.
Silence.
A man’s shout, not Kieran’s, and the rustle of footsteps in the forest carried through the hush. They were coming nearer.
Degarius drew Assaea.
Miss Nazar was ahead of him with Kieran’s horse. A thief in the woods could kill her with an easy shot. “Get off your horse and get behind it,” Degarius said. If they tried to ride away now, they’d be shot in the back. And a sword was no good at a distance. Degarius resheathed his sword, dismounted, took his bow, and ducked behind his animal—the only thing Cumberlandians would guess a monk had of value. They wouldn’t risk wounding it.
Degarius glanced to Miss Nazar. She was holding the Blue Eye. If she had to use it, the advantage of surprising the Gherians with it was gone, but at least they’d be alive.
A Cumberlandian, clad in simple leather clothes, came from the forest. He wore his bow slung over his back and was supporting a hopping Kieran—a shaft stuck out from his thigh, near his hip. In Anglish, with a drawling Cumberland accent, he said, “I live up the hill. For three years I apprenticed a surgeon in Acadia.” Slowly, so as not to appear threatening, he held up an arrow with a brutal-looking three-bladed flared tip. “Without dowels, it’s hard to remove and he’ll bleed out soon. I meant to kill a deer, not a holy man.”
Degarius released the tension on the bowstring and lowered the bow. If the man had wanted to kill them, he wouldn’t have bothered to be burdened with Kieran.
Arvana tied the horses to the fence around the Cumberland home while Degarius and the Cumberlandian carried Kieran to the house. Over his shoulder, Degarius called, “Get the tarp.” She found it in the pack and then ran to catch up.
A woman, far along with child, stood in the doorway. Four children poured out around her. From the garden, an older girl appeared with her apron sagging with apples. The little ones raced to her.
Her arms full with the tarp as she entered, Arvana brushed the woman’s very round stomach. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry. The baby kicks a hundred times harder.” The woman spoke in a clear Acadian accent. Why was she living here? She returned Arvana’s quizzical look, probably guessing straight off that Arvana wasn’t a man and wondering why she was dressed as one. She pointed to the back of the house. “The bedroom is there.”
The small house was remarkably familiar. Like her home in Sylvania, it was built around a
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