out?”
“No,” she replies. “If I do, it’ll leave a hole allowing more blood to escape. He’s already lost too much as it is.”
The attackers fall like stalks of grain before the scythe as they engage the waiting fighters. Keeping her mind on Potbelly and doing her best to ignore the fighting going on fifteen feet away, she finally finishes up with binding his wound. With Roland’s help, they manage to get him on a horse, securing him in the same manner as James. When he’s secured, she turns and yells, “Let’s go!”
She quickly mounts her horse as the pit fighters take out the few remaining soldiers and then run to where their horses are waiting. Glancing back to the river, she sees two more boats disembarking another twenty soldiers. “Hurry!” she yells to Scar and the others as they reach the horses and begin mounting. Crossbow bolts fly at them from the river, but from that distance they’re not much to worry about.
Back into the saddle, they turn and race down the road, leaving the enemy far behind. After putting several miles between them, they slow the horses, saving them in case of the need for speed.
“Where did the other horses come from?” Jiron asks Shorty.
“After you guys left, we figured that we might need to leave in a hurry so we traded all the wagons and the goods for the horses,” he says.
“What about the money chest?” Delia asks.
“It’s divided among the saddlebags,” he tells her. “Each horse is carrying roughly the same amount.”
Jiron nods his head, “Smart thinking.”
Shorty smiles back to him and replies, “We knew you guys wouldn’t be able to leave without disturbing a few people.”
“Yeah,” Yorn interjects. “So we positioned ourselves near the wall and just listened for where the commotion was the loudest and figured that would be where you were.”
“You figured right,” Scar says as he rides next to his friend Potbelly. “We are going to need to find somewhere to hole up for a while, so Potbelly can recover.”
“Any ideas?” Jiron asks.
“We could cut cross country, try to find someplace away from civilization,” Roland suggests.
“But that would be the first place I would look if I was them,” Jiron replies. “Of course, any place near here will be searched in no time, as well. No, I think we better put as much distance between us and them that we can, stay on the road as long as possible.”
Scar understands the logic, but is worried for his friend who doesn’t look very good. “Hang in there Pot ol’ boy,” he says to him.
A little after midnight, James regains consciousness, though is still extremely weak and tired. “What’s going on?” he asks, looking around groggily.
“We’ve been riding all night, ever since you blew up the bridge,” Jiron tells him. “Right now we’re looking for a good place to stop and rest.”
“Can’t take the chance that their forces will get ahead of us,” he says. “We’ve got to keep moving.”
“Potbelly is in a bad way and the horses are tired,” Jiron explains. “We can’t keep going very much longer.”
“I’ll leave it to your judgment then,” he says, before passing out again.
Roland comes up next to him and asks, “Why not go off the road here and see if we can find a spot? We’ve traveled a long ways and hopefully their patrols won’t reach this far so fast.”
“You’re probably right,” he agrees. “Anyway, James and Potbelly need to rest.” He leads them off the road and they travel cross country for another hour before coming to an old abandoned farmhouse. They bring James and Potbelly inside before they picket the horses nearby.
Delia has them lay Potbelly on the floor in the front room. Scar stays with her while the others see to the horses. She begins to unbind his bandages around the bolt. She looks to Scar and says, “It’s time for it to come out.” Removing the rest of the bandages, they can see where the skin around the shaft of the bolt is beginning to turn red. Drops of blood continue to well out from around it.
He nods as he watches her take out a needle and remove a thread from her shirt.
When she has the thread through the eye of the needle and tied securely, she says, “Alright, you gently pull out the bolt and I’ll sew it close.”
He grabs the portion of the bolt sticking out of Potbelly’s side and looks to Delia who nods. Then with a gentle, even pull, he removes the bolt as blood begins streaming out.
“Quickly!” she says to him, “pinch the wound closed so I can sew it together.”
As he holds the wound together to inhibit the flow of blood, he looks to the unconscious Potbelly and murmurs, “Glad you’re not awake for this.” He continues holding the wound together until Delia has completely sewn it closed. Tying it off, she has him remove his hands and the stitches hold securely, only a few drops of blood continue seeping through between the stitches.
Taking some water, she washes away the blood from Potbelly’s side and then dries it with an extra shirt. Using strips of cloth she tore from a spare shirt, she once more binds the wound. When she’s done, she says to Scar, “Hopefully we can rest here at least a day to let this heal. Keep a watch on him and don’t allow him to move around very much, we don’t want him to tear open the stitches.”
“I will,” he assures her as he settles down next to his friend.
When the others have returned from picketing the horses, Jiron sets up a watch schedule and takes the first shift. He finds a place outside where he can see anyone approaching and settles in until its Scar’s turn.
Shortly after he begins his watch, Delia comes out and sits with him. “You need to get some rest,” he tells her.
“In a moment,” she replies. “Just needed to get out of there for a bit.”
“Potbelly’s snores bothering you?” he asks her with a smile.
“No, not really,” she replies back. “I just can’t get being questioned by Lord Cytok off my mind.”
“It’ll get better over time,” he assures her. “Some things, especially intense situations like that, have a way of hanging around longer with you than others.”
“I suppose,” she says. She gives him a quick glance and continues, “Did anyone tell you why he captured us?”
He shakes his head and replies, “No, not yet.”
“Well, the last package on the list was for his estate,” she tells him. “When we went to deliver the goods, the man at the gate called the guards and had us taken. It seems that the smugglers had worked for Lord Cytok, in fact his is the name on that letter James has been showing everyone.”
Nodding his head, he says, “That makes sense.”
“Yeah,” she says. “They held us until he showed up and then began questioning us as to how the letter and the cargo came to be in our possession. He hadn’t been at it very long before you guys showed up.” She lays her head on his shoulder and he puts his arm around her as sobs begin to wrack her body.
Holding her close, he sits there silently as she lets out all the emotions she’s kept bottled up since the ordeal.
When she’s done, she wipes her eyes and says, “Thanks.”
“That’s what friends are for,” he assures her. He gives her one more hug and then says, “Now, you go and get some sleep, you look like you could use it.”
Nodding her head, she begins to turn toward the house. Then she comes back over to him and gives him one last hug before leaving him there alone.
He watches her go until she’s inside the house. Brushing away the tears that had fallen from his eyes in the dark, he turns his attention back to keeping watch.
Late in the night as Stig is taking his turn at watch, he hears horses passing off in the distance. He quickly moves to try to better see where they’re going. In the moonlight he’s able to see a company of twenty empirical horsemen ride past, going to the east.
He continues watching them until they disappear into the night. When he wakes Yorn for his turn, he tells him of the riders before turning in.
Yorn keeps a watchful eye and ear out for any other visitors, but his watch passes quietly.
“This is not the afterlife,” Scar assures Potbelly when he wakes up, thinking he’s dead.
