“I don’t imagine they’ll fancy pushing themselves past those thorns.” The woman’s voice was husky with the effort of the run. We lay on our fronts, side-by-side, from where we could look out into the clearing under the spikey wall that protected us.
“They came this way,” said a gruff voice.
“How can they have got away so fast?” said another.
“And what the hell did he do to Alek? His face was a proper mess, as if it had been burned. Who the hell gave him a torch?”
“Could he be a magic user?”
“Definitely not. Boris checked him properly. I saw him do it with my own eyes. He was damned thorough.”
The woman and I held our breath as the slavers moved about the clearing calling out to each other. There were three of them. I guessed that one had stayed behind to look after the wagons and to care for the one they called Alek, the driver whose face I had burned.
They seemed reluctant to go further than the clearing. One man even approached our clump of bushes, but he seemed more interested in the cliff that backed it.
“No sign of them,” said the one nearest us. “I don’t like this. Let’s go back to the wagons and see if we can pick up their trails again.”
The woman was lying right next to me, her book clutched under her arm. Her hip was pressed up against mine in the hollow. She had a fresh, lavender scent, despite the days on the road and in captivity. I stole a glance at her, then spoke.
“Looks like we got away with it, wouldn’t you say?”
“For now. But let’s not stay in here. I think I’m lying on an ants’ nest!”
We pushed our way out of the bushes and stood up, brushing needles and dirt off our clothes and then regarding each other. I met her eyes, and she smiled shyly at me.
“Thank you for freeing me from those trollmen,” she said. “That was amazing, what you did back at the wagon. I’ve never seen anyone move so fast.”
Damn, but that compliment felt good coming from her.
I took a deep breath, aware of how my chest filled out as I did so. The admiration in her face was almost intoxicating. Her eyes were ice-blue and matched the pale blonde of her long hair, which curled at the edges. Her face was round, with high cheekbones and a faint blush of color in the smooth cheeks. She held her big, arcane-looking book close to her chest, and I could not help but notice the way her generous breasts pushed up against the top of the book and filled her thin top. She caught me looking, but rather than annoyance, she ducked her head coyly, then smiled up at me again through her eyelashes.
“Come on,” I said, a little breathless. “We ought not to hang about here. They might come back.”
She gave a tight little nod.
I was about to start up the hill when she put her hand on my arm. “Wait, before we go… well… what’s your name?”
“Of course, those slavers never introduced us. How rude of them.” I held out my hand to her. “I’m William. I come from the village of Lowvale, near Aranor.”
She shook my hand. Her skin was cool and her grip was surprisingly firm.
“Amelia,” she said. “I come from Astros.”
“Well met, Amelia of Astros. Come on, let’s head up this hill and put some more distance between us and the road. I don’t want to meet those slavers again if we can help it.”
We reached the top of the hill quickly and looked out over the tree canopy. To the northwest, we could see the shadowy mountains in the distance, and behind us to the south there was a line among the trees which must mark the road. There was no sound of the slavers at the moment.
“What direction shall we take?” Amelia asked.
“Good question. I hadn’t really thought about it. We’ll need some supplies. I don’t know about you, but I’m rather hungry. I think we should head back in the direction of the slavers’ wagons, collect what’s useful there, then decide where to go from there.”
Amelia shrugged. “Sounds reasonable. Let’s go.”
We went down the other side of the hill and back under the canopy of the forest. It was early afternoon, and I glanced up through the leafy treetops, taking a bearing from the sun’s position to be sure we were heading more or less toward the wagons. From the way things had looked from the top of the hill, this forest went on for miles.
The forest canopy let enough light through to allow some grass and ferns to grow on the forest floor here. Lush green and rich browns surrounded us, and the warm smell of a summer wood filled the air. I breathed deeply.
“Freedom feels good, doesn’t it?” There was a smile in Amelia’s voice, and I looked at her to find her gaze on me. I smiled back at her.
“It sure does.”
We walked for an hour, not hurrying. Once, we came upon a stream running through a deep cutting in the mossy forest floor. We stopped to drink and splash the mud from our faces, careful not to leave tracks that could be followed in the muddy bank.
Once we were moving again, we both felt refreshed. The forest had opened out a bit, with many high broad-leaved trees overhanging knee-high grasses which gave up a sweet scent as we walked through them. I decided to try to find out more about Amelia. Several times in the last hour she had seemed about to speak, but it was as if she did not know how to start a conversation. Very well, I would save this alluring, shy woman the trouble,
