Chapter. 13
After a few hours of traveling, we encounter a river. The Gaultane is still at least a day’s journey away, and this one is far too thin to hold the Gaultane’s reputation. The raging waters have worn away the rocks, leaving huge boulders sprinkled around its banks.
The rope is tied around my waist once again, but he left my hands free. I know better than to try take it off. He left his coat on me to protect me from the elements, and it provides padding which makes carrying the backpack far more comfortable. His coat is threaded with an intricate pattern of interlocking circles. I’ve made clothes before, but this work is well beyond my ability. It’s not something a commoner could afford.
“If you’re a lord, why do you travel alone? Where are your soldiers?” I ask.
“I don’t have any,” he says.
A lord without men? “But how do you protect your land?”
“I’d imagine my lands are now occupied by others.”
“Wait… how can you be a lord without any land?”
“I campaigned for land and power, but one day something changed, and it all seemed so… frivolous.” He glances down at me. “The world is cruel. You should come to terms with that. It’ll save you needless suffering.”
“What changed?”
“I suppose my title is no longer fitting. Old habits,” he says, ignoring my question.
I don’t pry further, sensing he doesn’t want to share more.
We step through a clump of dense vegetation. Our waterskin is empty, and the sloshing river is calling me. Having my blood siphoned this morning has aggravated my thirst. “Can we take a brea-”
His hand clamps over my mouth, cutting me off and pulling me back into him. My eyes widen to the size of saucers. He's focused on something in the distance. I follow his gaze across the horizon. There's a pair of men, human men.
My heart drops into the pit of my stomach. I need to warn them before they share Neil’s fate.
He presses my body against his, keeping my mouth shut with no room to move back. My hands snap to his, and I dig at his fingers. The old gag appears in the corner of my vision. Crud.
I bite down, and he rips his hand away with a grunt. Taking a huge breath, I scream at the top of my lungs, "Vampire! Run!"
Both men look directly at us. They bolt. Rahlan pushes me aside and takes off after them. I land painfully on all fours, almost falling flat on my face.
The men run in opposite directions, and Rahlan chases the one heading to the river. I drop the backpack and run after him.
Rahlan's much faster than the man, like a lion chasing down his prey. I’m left in the dust. I won't reach them in time. My shoes scrape over the dirt as I make a sharp turn, narrowly avoiding a pit. They’re shouting. I run as fast as my feet can carry me.
The man falls to the ground by the riverbank, and Rahlan stands over him with his sword drawn. “Where is he!?” Rahlan shouts, “Where’s Ivan the Huntsman!?”
“Please, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man begs.
My legs burn as they push for the final stretch. I'm out of time. I charge into Rahlan's back, knocking him off balance. He hits the ground, and my body lands on top of his.
The man scurries to his feet, and Rahlan shoves me off, sending me rolling over the dirt. I let out a groan from my aching everything. The man dives into the raging river, and Rahlan comes to a screeching halt at the riverbank.
“Mark my words, monster!” the man shouts as the torrent of water pulls him away, “We will drive you out this land! Glory to the Huntsmen! And long live Ivan!”
Uncle Ivan?
Soon he’s out of sight, but his voice continues to taunt Rahlan. “I hope we meet again, monster! Thank your lady friend…” his shouts fade behind the noise of the current.
Before I can fully process what's happened, Rahlan has his hand on my chest, lifting me up by the coat with my feet dangling beneath me.
"You stupid girl.”
His grip forces my head up towards the sky, compressing my airway. "He was a-a Huntsman,” I choke out, unable to take a full breath, “a hero."
"A hero!? You think the Huntsmen are heroes!?" He drops me, and I land hard on my butt.
“They defend those who can’t defend themselves, and Ivan’s a good man,” I snap back.
His full attention lands on me. Malevolence radiates off him. “What did you say?”
The blood drains from my face. “They defend those who can’t defend themselves.”
“No,” he shakes his head in disbelief, “You said Ivan’s a good man. You know him.”
“No, I-I’ve just heard stories.” I don’t want to find out how much anger he’d take out on Ivan’s niece.
“There are no stories.”
“I-”
“How do you know him? Are you one of them?” He glances at the backpack I left behind. “No. You’re far too useless to be a Huntsman. Simple navigation eludes you.” He rests a hand on the hilt of his sword. "What is your connection to Ivan?"
He sees right through me. My tongue is stuck in my throat. Trying to defend myself while I’m flustered will just dig a deeper hole.
He grabs my arm and pulls me close. "I find that pain loosens a stiff lip."
My mouth makes a thin line. I will die by his sword before endangering the little family I have left.
His hand curls up into a fist. I shut my eyes and tuck my head into my shoulder. My body tenses, and I try shield my middle with my free arm. The bruises are nowhere near healed.
My torso curls away from him. I can’t stop myself from trembling. My legs will buckle the moment he hits me. The best I can do is hold still and mentally prepare myself for the impending assault. I’ll endure the burning pain in my middle a hundred times before helping a vampire hunt down family.
His grip remains tight, but the blow doesn’t come. I slowly peek open my eyes and meet his gaze.
He pushes me back, and I hit the ground again.
“It matters not.” He smirks. “I have plans for you, friend of Ivan.”
I shudder. He grabs the waist rope, forcing me to jump to my feet and follow after him. We trace our steps back to where we first saw the men. Their things are scattered around the area that was once their campsite. I let out a breath of relief knowing that his attention has shifted off me. There’s smoldering ash and a sweet aroma from a meal they just ate. I keep my eyes open for any leftover food.
He finds a satchel lying in the long grass. It has a bow insignia embossed on its leather cover. Jacob has an iron necklace with the same symbol. He said that Ivan gave it to him as a gift, but he didn’t mention it was a Huntsmen’s mark. He joined the Huntsmen without telling me?
Rahlan flips the bag upside down, depositing its contents on the dirt. There are clothes, some wrapped spices and cotton paper. He picks out the paper and unfolds it to reveal a letter. His eyes scan the page, and his lips curl up into a grin.
I lean forward to get a view, but a dark glance tells me to back off. He stares at it for a minute before folding it up and placing it in his pocket. I want to ask him what it says, but it’s better that his attention stays far from me.
We cross the river at a narrow point, boulder hopping to avoid soaking our clothes. Night soon falls. We’ve been walking through fields of tall grass for hours. He’s not slowing down, and I’m exhausted, but I keep it to myself, not wanting to remind him of my presence.
After another hour of trudging through the grass, my legs are aching, but his gait shows no sign of fatigue. I’m not built like him. I bet he’d have dived after the man in the river if he wasn’t tethered to me. I will ask politely.
“Lord Rahlan, are we going to set up-”
“Shh,” he interrupts me.
I’m not trying to cause trouble, but my body can’t keep up at this pace. “Can we-”
“Shut up.” His eyes convey that that was the final warning. He unsheathes his curved sword, and I stumble back. I thought we were past the threat of him chopping me up?
He yanks on my rope, making me yelp and fall by his feet.
“Show yourself!” he shouts, scanning the direction we came. We’re not alone?