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Pathfinder's Way(28)
Author: T.A. White

She possessed an unusual amount of cunning to have escaped one of his best generals. Very tricky. His shoulders shook. Before long his laughter echoed in the room.

Darius watched cautiously, not used to seeing amusement on the normally stony face. Darius followed Fallon’s gaze. His lips twitched as he saw the humor of the situation.

“Once the troops learn of this, they’re going to start calling her the phantom,” Darius observed.

Fallon grunted in agreement.

“I wonder how she plans on getting rid of the chains,” Darius mused. “With the level of effort she puts into escaping, you’d think we planned to torture her or something.”

“At least it’s not up a cliff this time,” Fallon said.

“My heart nearly stopped when she almost fell.”

“Mine as well,” Fallon admitted.

The woman was foolhardy. Brave, but seriously lacking in judgment. Though this was no cliff, it wasn’t any safer venturing into a camp full of hardened warriors. One of them might decide to keep her. He’d hate to have to kill a man loyal enough to follow him this long.

She was his. And he’d make sure she knew that, just as soon as he caught her.

Knowing Darius had captured her and she was here waiting had given him the patience to deal with his war council’s petty squabbling. He’d been in an unusually good mood for the rest of the session, despite having to referee the gripes and subtle undermining that was rampant in his advisors. It had taken another two hours before he could pull himself free. In that time, his quarry had slipped away once again.

“Did she have any companions with her?” Fallon asked.

“Yes. There were six men with her.”

“Bring them to me.”

“Should I give orders they be taken to your tent?”

“No, bring them here,” Fallon said. “Several of the clan heads have been making interesting moves as of late, and I can’t be sure of their loyalty. I don’t want any information I learn to be broadcast to potential enemies.”

Darius inclined his head and left to give his men orders that the prisoners from Goodwin of Ria were to be brought to his tent immediately.

Fallon stared at the spot where Shea should have been and shook his head again. To be bested a second time by this mere slip of a woman. She would have much to answer for when he finally caught her. And catch her he would. He’d never failed in any of the challenges set before him, and he wasn’t about to start now.

His eyes glittered in the torchlight. He was looking forward to this. Almost as much as he was looking forward to conquering the rest of the Lowlands.

 

 

Witt sawed through the last of Dane’s bonds, thanking every deity he knew that the knife Shea had slipped him that first night had gone undiscovered. They’d concentrated on searching his hands and back because of the hug she’d given him. They hadn’t noticed the pat on the knee right after.

Good thing for Witt the woman was a wily one. Always thinking two steps ahead.

Dane slipped free, and Witt moved to Burke. They’d taken Shea’s advice and waited until they reached the main encampment before attempting an escape.

As always, she’d been right. As soon as they made it to camp, their captors dropped them off with a new set of guards. Ones who had no idea why their new prisoners needed to be watched so closely.

Witt and Dane’s group were escorted to a corral and given blankets along with a small meal. Their hands were bound, and they were left alone with the other captives for the night.

There were nearly fifty other men in the pen with them. It was unlikely the guards would notice when the six men in Witt’s group slipped away.

Paul and one of his friends had blustered about trying to escape that first night. Dane put his foot down when they tried to push the issue and told them if they made any attempt to leave, he’d rat them out to their captors.

The fools had no sense. If Shea hadn’t been so dead set on everybody making it out, he’d have left them to rot. But if he did that, he knew she’d try to mount a rescue. Dane knew it too. That’s why they were taking the others with them when they left. No matter how much of a pain in the ass they turned out to be.

It was going to be tough getting Dane to leave without Shea. He’d had a massive crush on the girl since Edgecomb. Witt couldn’t blame him. Shea was a looker. Only reason half the men in the village weren’t knocking down her door was because she intimidated the hell out of them. Her no nonsense gaze had a way of stripping a man down to size. Witt got a kick out of it every time she did it. She reminded him of another time. Another girl who had that same clear gaze.

She wasn’t half bad for a pathfinder. Soft hearted under the hard exterior, not like the rest of them.

Dane kept watch as Witt freed Paul. He’d saved him for last because he didn’t want the man trying to run before he cut everyone else loose.

Now freed, the six picked their way through prone bodies and one by one crawled past the guards. Though it wasn’t long since dark had fallen, most of the men in the pen were already asleep. Their Trateri captors were rigid taskmasters and worked them hard all day. By the time dinner came around most of the men were so tired their eyes were beginning to drift shut even before they finished their last bite. The sheer exhaustion the Lowlanders felt made even the thought of escaping an impossible one.

It’s why Witt and his men were making their move tonight rather than waiting even a day longer. They were already weary from the forced march. Before they were exhausted further, they needed to make a break for it.

Dane led the way to the edge of the corral, timing their movements to when the guards had their backs turned. At the edge of the enclosure, the men laid flat, as if they were sleeping, while Dane climbed over to scout the next portion.

Witt kept everybody else in line while he was gone. It was necessary since Paul and his friend were the type to get the others riled up.

Witt’s lip curled. Before the night was over, he had a feeling he’d regret saving Paul. The boy had almost as much sense as his father. Which was to say, none.

Dane, on the other hand, had come a long way since that trip to Edgecomb. He’d gotten his head out of his ass and begun paying attention to more than just the simpering village girls. He was a good man to have on your side at times like these. Even if their captors had taken his boomer.

“Alright,” Dane’s voice floated over the wall. “One by one.”

Witt knelt and cupped his hands for Burke, letting the man use his hands and shoulder as a stepping stool. One by one the others repeated the process, climbing over the wooden planks to the other side. As Paul rose for his turn, there was a commotion at the front gate of the pen.

“Get down,” Witt ordered.

He grabbed Paul by the neck, forcing him face down and following him. He lay on his stomach, keeping his face turned towards the men approaching the pen. In this light, they wouldn’t be able to tell if his eyes were still open.

These new Trateri carried torches and were dressed in finer clothes than the guards. Witt thought he recognized one of the men from their journey.

There was a heated discussion as one of the new men pointed at the sleeping men and then gestured back at the camp.

“We have to go,” Paul whispered urgently.

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