Jake and the others watched as the two walked up to the second floor. Relief poured through everyone at the tavern. Jake stood, his joints rubbery, and moved back to his table of friends.
“Way to pick on someone who hunts Executioners Jake,” whispered the fat man at the far table. Everyone turned a looked at Jake for a moment, but then suddenly they were all laughing with relief.
?
Tar Navarra was across the bridge and up the Scar just as the sun rose ever faithful, over the eastern horizon. A cool wind whipped along the water, fluttering his cape as he rode, and the sky was decorated with a multitude of red, orange, and purple tinted clouds, but the Executioner did not notice. All his attention was on the tracks that led to the very top of the Scar. It was an easy trail to follow; the girl’s horse had a slightly raised nail on the left front shoe. It made a deeper indentation than any of the others, a perfect telltale sign of her passing. Luckily the rain had again been light the previous night and had not washed away all of the tracks. The Fultan girl rode past this way. Once on the very top of the Scar, Navarra looked about. He spotted a boy hiding among the wagon parts and high grass. Furia spotted the boy also and went rigid, growling deep and low until Navarra softly whistled, then the dog trotted to catch up. Navarra ignored the boy and moved on to the group of buildings up ahead. He stopped in front of the largest building, which claimed to be “Bert’s Feed and Grain.” No one emerged to meet him so he dismounted, not bother to tie off Chaos, for he was well trained. He climbed the stairs to the porch and was almost in the door.
“What can I do ya for?” a woman’s voice sounded from the corner of the building. Immediately Vesania and Furia were growling, hunching low; they began to slowly approach the old woman. Navarra spoke softly and they stopped walking, but continued to growl and watch her menacingly. Bert paused for only a split second then continued on, struggling with a sack of feed. She carried it up the steps and placed it next to the door, then stood and looked Navarra directly in the eye. There was no sign of fear in her despite his Executioner robes, which annoyed him.
“I’m looking for a girl who past by this way,” he said softly, and moved slightly closer to the old woman, wanting her to react to his presence by taking a step back. She didn’t move.
“A girl,” the old woman answered loudly. “I don’t sell girls here.” She grunted then tried to move by him and enter the store. Navarra stopped her easily by reaching out and grabbing a hold of her right arm. He squeezed hard and she gave a satisfying wince.
“You’re hurting me,” she said, scolding.
“Yes,” Navarra answered and for a moment squeezed harder. “I’m looking for a girl who past by this way,” he repeated even softer.
“A girl?” the old woman asked, fear suddenly in her eyes.
“Ye…” Navarra began but was surprised when suddenly there was a knife in the old woman’s left hand. She made the mistake of raising it high to drive it into his throat, if she had gone for his groin she might have succeeded. Navarra blocked the blow at the last moment then gripped her left wrist and twisted hard until the tendons and bones popped loudly in the still morning air. The knife fell on the hardwood of the porch and bounced away. The woman screamed, but it was cut off as he struck her in the throat with the edge of his hand. It was a killing blow, crushing her larynx. It was a blow he had not intended to make, but his surprise was so great from her near success that he lashed out instinctively. He released her, and she staggered away a few steps, face already contorted and turning blue. She pulled at her throat with her right hand, her left dangling uselessly at her side. The dogs were up and eager, staring at him for permission to continue with the killing, but he gave them an angry look that caused them to fall back, clearly disappointed. Navarra watched the woman as she stared back at him, her eyes wide, death fixed in her sight but then he turned away from her and entered the store, looking for anyone else who might confirm the girl’s passing. He soon came back out onto the porch. The woman was dead; a slight blue tint could be seen around her lips. He only gave her a cursory glance, then moved off the porch and looked in the direction where the boy had been earlier. There was no one in sight, and he briefly toyed with the idea of sending the dogs after him, but in the end he just mounted up and continued on, slowly following the tracks left by the Fultan horse.
The tracks continued on for maybe a mile before they suddenly moved off of the road and into the grass leading toward the tangle of undergrowth. At first he couldn’t figure out exactly where the tracks went. They seemed to end at an impossible tangle of brambles. He began to ride to the south, but the dogs did not follow and began barking behind him. They were standing around the bushes and sniffing about the ground. Navarra rode back, dropped from his horse and began to study the surrounding bushes. It did not take him long to discover the false briar, and though thorns stuck him repeatedly, he moved them out of the way as quickly as he could, smiling. He had her now; she would have no easy way out of this area. The dogs paced back and forth excitedly as he removed the barrier. His hands were bleeding here and there, but otherwise he was uninjured as he climbed back up on Chaos. Vesania and Furia moved to his side, both looking up at him, their furry faces full of eagerness.
“Soon,” he said softly, catching a bit of their enthusiasm, “soon.”
?
Samantha was up early the next morning and ate another breakfast with Wake, Martin and Scot. Otter was just leaving for his watch at the Scar, as she emerged from her tent, though he turned and waved to her through the stunted trees. Sam waved back and even graced him with a small sad smile. The wind was strong this morning and the sky overhead was a maze of fast moving clouds, with ever growing patches of blue appearing between. The ground was wet and slick from the previous night’s rain, but it had been light and Samantha was sure the dampness would burn off before the morning was done.
“When do you think the others will return, so I can move farther west?” She asked Martin, who sat on the log next to her sipping coffee. Wake and Scot sat on the other log on the far side of the fire, which crackled and popped in the early morning breeze.
Martin shrugged. “They are not due back before the end of the week, but most times there’s no set schedule. They leave when they have to and return when they can. We just wait for them, and watch the road.”
Samantha nodded, fighting the nagging feeling to get up and leave on her own. They all sat in silence for a time, Sam only vaguely aware of the furtive looks she was getting from Scot.
“I’ll be heading down today,” Wake suddenly said in the silence, and Samantha looked up surprised.
“Leaving,” she repeated, alarmed at her sudden, growing sense of doom.
Wake caught her eye only briefly, then looked back down at the fire and took a sip of his own coffee. “Need to be back. The Deutzani will grow suspicious if I’m gone too long. Can’t have them nosing about up here.”
Samantha just stared at him for a long time, and when he finally looked up he could see how she’d deflated.
“Perhaps I’ll come up for a visit at the end of the week,” he said almost shyly, “if you’re not gone by then.”
Samantha nodded, wondering how the large man had gained her confidence so quickly. “Wake….” She said but fell silent, and for a moment the others just waited for her to continue, but then Martin leaped to his feet, obviously alarmed. Wake turned and there, leisurely walking toward their camp was an Executioner and a dog. Wake quickly looked about then reached over and retrieved the axe he’d used the previous day. By the time he turned back both Scot and Martin had their knives out and ready. Samantha was still sitting on the log, staring in shock as the man in black approached ever closer.
“Run Mona!” Wake yelled, calling her by his dead wife’s name in his excitement. Sam did not react until Wake moved forward toward the Executioner. He held his axe high, ready for a fight. Sam suddenly came alive and bolted off the log and toward the tent that held her belongings.
Navarra saw her plainly, his heart suddenly beating faster.
