Chloe's Guardian (The Nephilim Redemption Series Book 1) (36 page)

CHAPTER
47

“Good morning,” Hugh said. “Sleep well?”

Horatius opened his eyes, having trouble getting his thick, heavy lids to lift. He felt worse than before he’d fallen asleep.

Billy popped up like he had not been asleep the second before. “We are going to find the goat man today.” His endless energy was unfathomable.

“I bet you are famished,” Hugh said. He ladled the previous night’s soup out of the cooking pot and handed a bowl to Billy. Then he offered a hand to Horatius and helped him sit up against the barrel again.

“Would you like some ale?” Hugh asked Horatius. “I made it myself but it is not half bad.”

His mouth watered and a deep yearning stirred. Oh, to take the edge off all the frustration and anxiety. Ale would be sweet to the soul.

Then the conviction came. “Thank you, no. Just some water again will suffice.” Somehow, he meant to refrain from drinking from that time forward. He just had to.

“I am afraid I have bad news. The hunchback found my money and took it, too. I have no coin with which to pay you for the lad’s work. What can I do? Do you want me to come with you to town?”

Horatius shook his head. “We won’t trouble you more than we already have. I have the idea that if all else fails, Billy can try the sacrifice for me. He carries a small knife. We can sharpen it. He knows how to catch a rabbit. If we don’t find the Arab, I think we will fare well enough. I can talk Billy through the ceremony. Then all will be well. I am certain.” Hugh gave him a dubious look. “Really. We will be okay.”

After they broke their fast, they thanked Hugh for his hospitality. Billy led the mule from the stable over to the barrel next to Horatius. Hugh helped him to his feet but he could barely take weight on his wobbly legs. Spots dotted his sight. He had to bend over the mule’s back a few moments before he could let Hugh help him mount.

He settled into the curvature of the swayed back.
Holy tribulation! I don’t know if I can do this.
Hugh tied a length of leather to the mule’s bit for Billy. Billy pulled the mule into an amble and Horatius wondered how long he could stay seated.

“We will come back and see you once we get all this worked out,” Billy called to Hugh when they reached the trail that led back into town.

They traveled in silence. Horatius had no stamina to talk. It was out of character for Billy to be quiet, but it was too much to wonder about that either. He concentrated on balancing and not falling off on the steep slope. He could not wait to get his power back and take flight. He swore this would be the last time he ever rode an animal. Flying never seemed like such a wonderful privilege.

The smell and noise of the town reached them before they saw it. Once it came into view, it bustled with activity. The market day was in full throttle. The previous night’s absurd idea that it would be easy to find the goat herder dissolved. Carts, tents, and stalls arranged in rows created the pathways that overflowed with shoppers. Masses of people and numerous animals clogged every lane.
We’ll never find anything in this multitude, especially not an Arab who probably doesn’t want to be found.

Billy led the mule through the pressing mob. He was away the full length of the mule’s tether, pulling hard to keep it moving, which it was reluctant to do with such a large crowd. A few times Billy tossed comments back to Horatius, but Horatius couldn’t hear him through the tumult. Billy moved through the crowd with determination and left no slack in the lead, shoving through the people, pulling the mule with all his strength.

Whenever a bleat sounded over the din, Billy whipped his head in the direction of the noise. Horatius followed his gaze and scanned for goats. So far they’d been roused by four sheep, a crying toddler, and some strange chicken. But no goats.

A commotion in the one lane drew Horatius’ attention. Billy pulled the mule over at his command and they stopped to watch. A plump woman was being carried away on a cot. Her color was bad enough to make Horatius believe she was already dead. A short, stocky man wrapped in a kilted tartan walked alongside her cot shouting Gaelic and flapping his arms. Horatius shook his head in disbelief to hear the man scold her about not working at their stall hard enough.

Then Horatius heard it. A ringing bell and bleating goat. It was an unmistakable blat. A woman—obviously a middle eastern woman with a brown hijab wrapped around her head and neck—was manning a stall with large wedges of cheese, crocks and buckets of milk products. Behind her tent, four grazing goats were tied to stakes.

Billy leaned hard on the tether and coaxed the stubborn mule to the goat stall.

“Excuse me, woman,” Horatius said, working to sound strong and stable, neither of which he felt. “I was told I could find a person here who could perform a certain rite for me.”

“What are you doing here?” she said in a harsh whisper. “You should not be here. My husband said we do not meet until midnight.”

Horatius set his face to give nothing away. She thought he was someone else and he didn’t wish to change that until he knew why. “That is not what I understood.”

She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial level. “I swear all is well. I took care of the nosy woman who overheard the plan.”

“What did she hear?” He hoped she would reveal what the secret was.

“She will not talk again.”

Horatius bore his eyes into her to make her uncomfortable and let something slip.

“I understand your conditions. I will not allow any fool woman to know of our plans, nor the spirit to know of your location. Your passage will be secure.”

Horatius tried not to let his face show any change. She was protecting someone’s location and arranging passage. It had to be another Nephil, and one for whom she mistook him.
Panahasi! From whom would he want to hide his location?
Who would care where he was but Satarel? If he intended to hide from Satarel, he must be planning to go to the Prince. So this was how he had decided to use the girls. To end his banishment, he was going to offer the girls to the darkness. He meant to offer the girls to Lucifer.

“What of the principals? What do you know?” He needed to find the girls before midnight. “What did you say that others may have heard?”

“I have said nothing. I swear. My husband told me nothing.” Perspiration glowed on her upper lip. Her nerves were fraying. He didn’t want to scare her away. He wouldn’t press her into flight. He needed to keep her from changing her plans or he would not be able to find and stop Panahasi.

“You have done well. Until tonight, then.” He gave her a two finger salute. He looked up, wondering where Billy had wandered. He scanned the crowd. He took a breath to yell out for him. And his eyes landed on Chloe, who was standing at a wagon not fifty yards away staring right at him.

CHAPTER
48

Before ducking into the wagon, Chloe’s eyes landed on a tall dark man on a mule at the goat cream stall. For a fleeting second she thought it was Pan. She hoped beyond hope it was Pan and not Horace. But then he turned. It
was
Horace. He was speaking to that evil goat woman. The woman the other one said had planned awful things together with Horace.

She crouched into the wagon as quickly as she could.

“Agnes, please, we have to go now! I’m going to be sick if we don’t hurry back.”

Agnes stuck her head out the open door and said, “Colin, take us back. Quickly.” And she pulled the door closed.

The wagon jolted to a start and gained speed. The sounds of the crowd behind them faded. Chloe tried to keep breathing. She’d seen Horace.
And he was planning horrible things with that evil woman!

***

“Billy,
Billy
.” Horatius called for him, but couldn’t see him anywhere. He tried to knock his heels into the mule’s sides, but he had no strength. The mule started anyway somehow, perhaps eager to leave the crowd. The rope from its bit dragged below them, trailing between the animal’s legs as the mule rambled through the mass.

Every few seconds Horatius called out again for Billy. He finally saw him at a cart where a man gave away free samples of meat on small skewers.

“Billy, come here,” Horatius shouted as loudly as he could, which really had very little volume. Billy turned in his direction, his mouth full and sauce dripping down his chin.

When he saw Horatius, he leapt into a trot and wound his way over.

“Da, they have the best—”

“Billy, chase that wagon. Hurry, it’s almost out of sight. Chloe’s in there.”

Billy didn’t wait for more explanation but took off like a spooked rabbit. He zigzagged through the crowd, using his small stature to his advantage, weaving around the many people. From atop the mule, Horatius saw his red hair bob up every so often among the people. Then Billy broke free of the edge of the square. He sprinted along the path leading out of town like an Olympian. His little arms pumped at his side and his feet pounded the ground. He even raised a plume of dust as he raced.

The wagon went out of sight, and then Billy did, too. Horatius reached low and grabbed the dangling rein. He coaxed the mule to keep moving and the two plodded in the direction Billy and Chloe had disappeared.

***

“I saw Horace!” Chloe gasped.

“What? Where?” Kaitlyn said, jolting up to the edge of the bench and grabbing Chloe’s hands. “You saw him?”

“And he saw me. He looked so angry. He was talking to that goat woman then he turned and saw me. He was so scary looking.”

“Who is Horace?” Agnes asked.

“He’s an old friend of ours,” Kaitlyn said.

“
Not
a friend. We know him, but he isn’t a friend.”

“Really?” Kaitlyn said. “But I thought—”

“No, he’s not.”

“Is he coming after you? Is that why we had to leave so fast?” Agnes looked frightened.

“It didn’t look like he was,” Chloe said.

One of the drivers stuck his head through the side window, hanging from the roof, upside-down. “M’lady, there seems to be someone chasing after us.”

Agnes let out a squeak and her hand flew to her mouth. “Is he dangerous?” she asked Chloe.

Kaitlyn said no at the same time Chloe said yes.

“He hardly looks dangerous,” the driver said.

“He is terribly dangerous,” Chloe insisted.

“You really think so?” Kaitlyn asked Chloe.

“I
know
so. Think of all that has happened.”

“I am. And I don’t remember where he was dangerous.”

“What did he do?” Agnes asked.

“He might have killed my family.”

“Shall we shoot him?” the head still hanging in the window said.

“No!” all three said.

“Not yet,” Agnes said. “Is he catching up?”

The guard left the window. His head popped back a moment later.

“We have well outdistanced him,” he said. He pulled back up out of sight, and they could hear him scrape across the roof back to his post.

Agnes looked at Chloe and Kaitlyn, her eyes wide again with fear. “Will he hurt us? We could alert the magistrate, if he is a murderer.”

“He isn’t,” Kaitlyn said. “He’s going to fix everything.”

“
Pan
is going to fix everything. Tonight. Horace hasn’t done anything to help.”

“Tonight? What is happening tonight?” Agnes asked.

Chloe hadn’t meant to tell Agnes. Not yet.

“We expect a visitor. That was the message we got last night. He is supposed to come tonight. He’s the man we saw in the dungeon in Aberdeen. Pan,” Kaitlyn said.

“But he was being tried for treason,” Agnes said.

“They didn’t have any evidence. He was let go. And he is supposed to be here today. He is okay. He is going to help us,” Chloe said before Kaitlyn could say anything more.

“Help you what?”

Chloe was trying to figure out what to answer and was relieved when the guard popped his head back into the window opening. “He is gone. Stopped running and left behind. We did not need to shoot him.” And he disappeared again.

“Oh my,” Agnes exclaimed. “What a day! If my laird husband knew what he sent me home to, he would have kept me by his side.”

***

Horatius passed a stall with caged birds—pigeons, grouse, pheasants. Geese strutted in a small pen with a rope net over it to keep them in.

He pulled the tether and stopped the mule. “Good sir, do you have a white dove? Not yet a fledgling, preferably.”

“Aye,” said the man at the stall. “A perfect squab for you.” He went among the cages back by the goose pen and returned with a small stick cage tied with rough jute. Inside was the most beautiful dove. The down was starting to change, and new juvenile plumage was just beginning to emerge.

“I want to buy it,” Horatius said.

“Tuppence.”

“I will give you a penny. And that is too much.”

“But I willna give you me bird for it. I said tuppence, and tuppence it is.”

Horatius couldn’t negotiate a price without any money. What was he thinking? “I will trade this mule for the dove.”

“What would I do with an old broken mule?”

“Sell it. It is worth three shillings at least.”

“I do not buy and sell mules. And especially that kind. I sell birds. Tuppence.”

“I’ll give you this knife for it,” Horatius said, pulling out the dagger from his belt. “I’ll trade you this.”

“I have a knife.”

“It’s a fine blade.”

“Tuppence.”

Horatius fingered his sword hilt, but he couldn’t give it up. He didn’t know what was ahead facing Panahasi. “These are fine leather boots. The best you’ll ever see.”

“Your feet are too big.”

“Please tell me then, man. What can I give you for the bird?”

“Tuppence. I already told you.”

Horatius snorted at the man. “I’ll be back. Hold that bird for me.”

“I will sell it to the first who has the coin and wants it!”

He kicked the mule forward, lambasting the merchant with profane obscenities. The man just laughed and put his dove cage back where he’d gotten it.