“Stay still.”
“They’ll catch us if we stay.”
“If you try to climb out of here right now, they’ll see you.” Witt snarled. “Do you really want another beating?”
“Oh, fuck you,” Paul spat, leaping to his feet and making a run for the wall.
The motion attracted the new Trateri’s and the guard’s attention. They lifted the gate and entered the pen quickly. The sleeping men started to wake as the Trateri ran past them.
Witt cursed loudly. He’d known Paul would make him regret freeing him. Always good to see his predictions come true.
Witt leapt after Paul, pulling him down and grabbing him by the collar while shouting at Dane, “Get out of here!”
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me. Just get out of here.” Witt hauled Paul after him in the opposite direction of Dane, forcing his pursuers to decide which group they wanted to chase.
All but one decided to go after the easier prey, Witt and Paul. The last leapt over the wall.
Witt figured Dane could take care of one man, so turned his attention to evading capture as long as possible. It was difficult while dragging Paul along, who cursed and fought as they wove through men who minutes before had been sleeping.
He was too old for this shit. This was the kind of thing the young and dumb did. Not him.
A heavy body tackled him, taking him to the ground and pressing his face into the dirt before hauling his arms behind him. He didn’t resist, knowing the game was up. He was caught.
Paul wasn’t as smart and flailed at the man trying to grab him. He got off one lucky shot to the man’s nose before his legs were swept right out from under him. He was kicked several times in the stomach and took a couple of blows to the face before his captor secured Paul’s arms behind his back and tied them off with rope.
“Your friend’s not too smart.” Witt was lifted to his feet and made to walk before his captor.
“Nope.”
“You, on the other hand,” the man trailed off as he looked in the direction of the wall.
Witt heaved a sigh. Right now he didn’t feel very smart.
“We’ll catch them before long.”
Witt shrugged. “Maybe.”
Paul gurgled blood as he was hauled back to his feet and shoved forward.
“Where are you taking us?”
Witt didn’t think he would actually get a reply and almost wished he hadn’t given the answer.
“Hawkvale wants to see you.”
Yup. He’d had a feeling that was the case.
His guards pushed the two captives to their knees before Fallon. The younger man’s face was a mass of bruises that were already beginning to swell. His lip had been busted open a few times. Blood and snot trailed down his chin to stain his shirt.
The other man was older, with a face made leathery from the elements and a hardened look in his eyes. He had a light bruise on one cheek but otherwise was unharmed.
He didn’t look afraid. He looked slightly annoyed as if he had better things to do and wanted this over with.
Fallon was grimly amused at this. Man had balls. He’d give him that.
“Where are the other four?” Darius asked. “And I thought I told you I wanted them unharmed.”
His man shrugged. “They were trying to run. This one resisted; we showed him that was a mistake. We were able to capture these two, but the others escaped. We’ve got men searching for them now.”
“What is it with these people?” Darius asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. “They’re nearly as bad as she is.”
“I know you,” Fallon said, watching Witt intently.
Witt stared back impassively.
“You were there in Edgecomb.” Fallon tilted his head. “With Shea and one other.”
The slightly labored breathing of the beaten man was the only response. Darius jerked his head at the guard.
The man slapped the back of Witt’s head. “Answer.”
The other guard kneed Paul in the back
“I don’t know anything,” Paul whined. He hunched in on himself and held his arms up over his head, protecting it.
Witt didn’t respond. Even his expression remained pleasantly bored. Fallon observed the man. Assessing him, weighing weaknesses. Not much seemed to scare the man. He had the look of someone who had it all and wasn’t impressed by much. It would take a lot to get him to spill his secrets.
“You friend has escaped,” Fallon told them.
Witt closed his eyes briefly, his body sagging minutely with relief. He tensed up almost as soon as he relaxed.
Fallon’s attention sharpened on the small movement. Ah, the older man felt something for her. Loyalty, perhaps?
The younger man with the swollen face sputtered as he fought to rise.
“Shut it, Paul.” Witt’s eyes were flinty as they locked on Fallon.
Fallon’s gaze went between the two. The older man was stubborn. The way he locked his jaw said he wasn’t going to give up any information easily. The younger man, on the other hand, would share every scrap of information he had and some he didn’t if it meant he wouldn’t be hurt.
This Paul would talk.
Fallon sat back and rubbed his chin with one hand.
“We wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for that lazy slut,” Paul snapped back.
Witt’s body locked tight, but he refused to look over at Paul.
“You heard them. They all know her. Let’s just tell them what they want to know.”
“Not another word.”
“What do you want to know? If we tell you, will you let us go?” Paul asked Fallon desperately, lisping slightly as he spoke through a swelling lip.
Fallon could have been chiseled from stone, for all the movement he made. “Who is she?”
“Shea, her name’s Shea.” Paul made a movement forward but a harsh hand at his shoulder jerked him back. When nobody spoke, he figured they wanted more. “She’s our village’s pathfinder.”
There was sudden interest from all of the men surrounding them.
“Explain this term.”
“Hold your tongue,” Witt hissed.
“What do I care for her?” Paul said. “She left us here to die.”
“This isn’t just about her,” Witt warned. “Be silent.”
“A pathfinder is a village’s link to the outside world.”
Paul’s words were almost drowned out by Witt’s roar.
Fallon nodded at the guard, and a blade was held to Witt’s throat as a warning.
At the touch of cold steel, Witt went still.
“A person who has passed the test can act as a pathfinder to other villagers or escort expeditions into the wilds. They’re able to navigate the mist that creeps across the lands. Our elders say they guard the knowledge lost during the last cataclysm.”
Darius and Fallon shared a look.
The inability to circumvent cliffs and intermittent mist at the Highland borders were the biggest reasons they hadn’t invaded the Highlands yet. If this woman could do what they said, she had a talent worth seeking out even if Fallon hadn’t already been interested in her for other reasons.
This other issue about the cataclysm would need to be explored more in depth. Both men had noticed that some of the villages held weapons they’d never encountered before invading this land. Fallon’s people had no weapons that could kill over that distance with the same accuracy and efficiency.