From Across the Clouded Range (24 page)

Tethina shifted, getting ready to
strike, but they were not found yet, and a rash move could cost
them their lives. Dasen wiggled his hand out from where it was
trapped by Tethina’s leg and caught her arm just below the wrist.
She looked at his hand then face as if he were one of the men
outside the bush, but Dasen nodded slowly and squeezed her wrist.
Tethina got the message. Her muscles relaxed, but the knife did not
move, so he did not release her.

More footsteps sounded nearby as the
other men joined the first. From the sound of their steps, the
bandits were big. Undoubtedly they were heavily armed, able-bodied,
and confident. If they were discovered, he and Tethina would not
stand a chance. Capture would be the best outcome. With that
thought in mind, Dasen surveyed their hiding place again but found
only curved walls of green on every side. They were safe from
casual observation, but if someone pushed back the branches, they
would have nowhere to run. He prayed that it would not come to
that.

The first bandit whispered to the
others – even the whispers seemed a roar, but the language was no
clearer. He closed the final feet on the bush as if he still might
surprise what he found inside. When his huge leather boots could be
seen peeking through the bottom leaves, he stopped, and there was
silence. Dasen could imagine him peering intently at the canopy
above.

A hand started through the top layers
of the bush.

Dasen froze and watched Tethina. He
could feel the tension in her every muscle like a steel trap with a
faulty trigger. He intensified his grip on her arm and prayed to
the Holy Order for her to remain calm – even if she surprised the
men, she would only spark their aggression.

A second hand joined the
first.

Dasen continued his silent prayer but
was paralyzed beyond that. He could not even breathe. The pounding
of his heart sounded like thunder in his ears.

The huge hands closed around the
leaves of the bush to draw them apart. They were found for
certain.

Dasen clenched his eyes shut unable to
watch his fate unfold and made one last desperate plea. To his
tremendous surprise, it was answered. With a bellow of
agony.

She stabbed
him
, Dasen thought as his eyes flew open.
He still held her wrist. He was certain that it had not moved. He
looked at the blade. There was no blood on it.

The bandit yelled again, anguish clear
in his guttural scream. Another scream and he fell to the ground
near the bush. He howled, gnashed his teeth, and groaned in misery.
His fellows backed away from the bush as if it had come alive.
Their weapons rattled as they came to the ready. The men yelled
back and forth to one another in wonderment, surprise, and
fear.

Dasen was every bit as confused. He
looked at Tethina, but she just let out a soft sigh and lowered her
knife. Had she expected this outcome? A small smile crept across
her lips until she heard the bandit coming to his feet.

The sound erased her smile and brought
the knife back to its place near the innermost leaves, but the man
did not approach. He mumbling then screamed what could only be
curses as he backed away from the bush. From the sounds of their
steps, his friends had joined him. Eventually, the other men
relaxed and chuckled at their compatriot’s inexplicable misfortune,
but none of them came near the bush. They joked and laughed all the
way to their horses then mounted and rode south . . . toward
Randor's Pass.

#

When the sound of hooves grew distant,
Tethina’s eyes turned to Dasen. They ran up and down his body,
inspecting him as carefully as they had the canopy above a moment
before. "Can you move?" Her distaste was clear, but the strength in
her voice was betrayed by the shaking of her hands.

The immediate threat past, Dasen
really looked at Tethina for the first time since the crash. Her
face was bright red where it was not smudged black, her hair was
singed, and her dress was marked with burns and soot. She had
obviously not fared much better than he, and it made the pain that
racked him seem less significant. “I’m pretty miserable, but I
think I can stand.” His voice sounded slow and distant even to his
own ears.

“
Alright, then.” Tethina
sighed. It sounded like she might collapse. “Hopefully, your
friends think we are still in the coach, but that doesn’t mean we
can stay here. Though you’d deserve it, your screaming would
certainly bring them back, so I’ll warn you not to stand up in
here. This is a serpent bush. The leaves are coated with poison. It
won’t kill you, but once it soaks into your skin, you may wish you
were dead.”

Dasen could not restrain his shock.
Tethina chuckled only to have the pain of her burns transform it to
a wince. “Remember that bandit's reaction? Imagine that all over
your body. I’ve seen men brought to my aunt delirious from the
pain." She did not say anything further as she moved to her hands
and knees and led the way out of the bush.

Dasen rolled onto his stomach, but
even that simple movement made his head swim. His entire body
protested. Spots danced before his eyes. His head felt like it
would burst. He closed his eyes to gather himself and waited until
the dizziness had passed then kept them closed as he rose to his
hands and knees. He forced his eyes open – they felt as if they
would explode from their sockets – and fought against the spots to
follow the path Tethina had taken. He crawled out of the serpent
bush and through a different bush that had given them access to the
first until his head hit Tethina’s knee.

His head bumping her knee shifting her
attention from the road. “It’s clear for the moment. We have to
go.” Her tone did not suggest that there were any alternatives to
that plan.

“
Everything is spinning,”
Dasen moaned as he shifted from crawling to sitting.

“
Well, I’m not staying
here, so you can either join me or crawl back under that bush. It’s
your choice.”

Dasen looked at her with distaste, but
she was watching the road, literally bouncing with anxiety, her
feet set as if to run. Obviously, she was serious. He considered
staying under the bush – surely she’d send someone for him when she
got to the village. But if something happened to her on the way,
he’d be alone in the forest with no idea how to find the village.
Besides, could he send his wife off to find help while he lay under
a bush? On their joining day? Given their already rocky start, that
wasn’t likely to improve his standing. His only chance to mend
their already broken relationship was to prove her perception
wrong, and he couldn’t do that from under a bush.

That decided, he took a deep breath
and brought his feet under him. His head pounded as he rose until
he was certain that it would burst. The spots dancing before his
eyes began to merge into solid black. The world spun faster and
faster until he could not tell if he was still moving up. He fell
back to the ground, sitting with his back against the tree and his
head between his knees.

A few moments passed. Dasen failed to
rise, but a succession of condemning puffs from above told him that
Tethina was growing impatient. “We have to go!” she hissed when
that thin patience gave out. “I know you are used to having
everything handed to you, of taking or buying whatever you want,
but there are no servants here, your guards are gone, your father’s
money means nothing, and there are no books that will tell you how,
so you’re going to have to try doing something on your own. I know
it’s scary, but most of us do it every day.”

Dasen looked at her with contempt and
found even more reflected back. He thought to protest, but it was
clear that words would only further her claim. So he decided to
prove her wrong. He took a deep breath and held it as he pulled his
feet beneath him. A rush of pain hit him. His world was swirling
black and pounding agony, but he fought through the darkness to a
crouch. He closed his eyes – they were not seeing anything but
dancing spots. The whole world felt like it was spinning, but he
braced himself, took another deep breath, and pushed himself up. He
came to his feet but was falling backward with nothing to stop his
momentum.

Strong hands on his wrists arrested
his fall. He wavered, but the hands did not let him go until he was
steady. Dasen opened his eyes. The spots were still there, but they
were fewer and remained at the borders of his vision. The world was
still spinning, but it was slower, more manageable. Tethina
released his wrists with a huff. His hand went to his head. He
squeezed his temple to ward off some of the unbearable throbbing.
Tethina came slowly into focus standing in front of him with a look
of concern. She held her hands near his, ready to catch
him.

“
I'm okay,” he assured,
but the words were distant. “Everything is spinning, and my head
feels like the town bell on Teaching Day. We should go. I don’t
know how much longer I’ll last.”

Tethina looked deep into his eyes,
placed her hand on his chest over his heart, and felt his neck and
head with her fingers. “I've seen worse," she declared without the
slightest sympathy. ”You'll probably be back to your pompous
asshole self tomorrow."

Dasen opened his mouth.

“
I don’t want to hear it,”
Tethina cut in. “Not here, not now.” She turned and searched the
forest. “There should be a trail nearby that will take us back to
the village. Follow me and try to be quiet. Your friends may still
be out there somewhere. And don’t even think about touching me.”
She glared at him, a visual blade as sharp as the dagger she held,
then turned from the road and led them into the forest.

Dasen recoiled but knew better than to
argue. He followed her at a distance. As they left the cover of the
trees that blocked them from the road, he was aware of an intense
heat warming him even beyond the already hot sun. He looked back
and saw a towering inferno a dozen paces away where the coach had
ended its course against an ash tree. The coach was little more
than a cinder as the flames consumed the great tree. Smoke rose in
a black column and drifted slowly away from them. For now, the
surrounding trees, damp from the days of rain, resisted the fire
that climbed almost straight to the sky on the windless
day.

He watched the fire consume what
remained of the coach for a long moment. He did not tax his muddled
mind with the countless unexplainable events he had witnessed. When
they made it to the village, there would be time for questions and
answers. Looking back one last time at the coach, however, he
thought about Esso. Though he had practically wished for the
driver’s head, he had not deserved to die like that. And the
horses. The guards. If the bandits had made it to the coach, they
were all certainly dead. The thought made him retch. He knew that
he was not thinking clearly, but he made a promise that whoever did
this would pay. They would face justice for their crimes, and they
would pay.

The thought brought him back to his
escape. A look at Tethina’s bare arms showed the price she had paid
to save him. They were deep red, matched only by the red of her
face. He was not much better, his face and hands burned, but the
pain was distant compared to the pounding in his head. His jacket
was little more than tatters and nearly black with soot and ash. He
ran his hand through his hair and felt it crackle as the acrid
scent of burnt hair wafted around him. “Thank you for pulling me
out,” he mumbled once he pieced together what had happened.
“Especially after . . . well after what you said. You . . . you
know I could never do those things. I . . .”

Tethina stopped and looked at him with
disdain. "Stuff it! I said I didn’t want to talk right now. Now
let’s go before I change my mind and throw you back in that fire.”
She scowled then winced at the pain. Dasen could only sigh and
follow.

#

Teth scanned the gaps in the trees
following the slight rut in the forest floor as far as her sharp
eyes could see. The forest around them was a dense mix of evergreen
and deciduous trees. There was little undergrowth, but a fresh
layer of leaves had fallen in the heavy rains, and the trail was
difficult to discern. Even then, it was only when she nearly
twisted her ankle in the slight impression that she realized where
she was.

It had been a long, slow walk to the
trail through the dense underbrush around the road to the older
portion of the forest where they now stood, and she had been driven
to the edge of insanity by the ungodly fire erupting from her face
and arms. The pain gnawed at her until she almost wished that she
had left Dasen to burn rather than staying to save him. After what
he had been planning in the coach, he certainly would have deserved
it.

And then she would have been a widow.
Young enough to remarry, her custody would have reverted to Ipid.
She considered that. Could he do worse than his son?
Perhaps.

The thought sparked her
anger.
Why does this have to be so
hard?
She had just started to trust the
boy, to think that he understood. Then Pete Magee and that driver.
. . .

Pete
Magee
, she thought.
The driver. Not Dasen.
And in the
coach? He had done nothing to substantiate their claims. He had
seemed nervous, unsure, even afraid. He did not try to sit by her
or even touch her. The driver’s words had clearly upset him. He did
not laugh, did not try to defend them. He had not made excuses, had
not tried to brush it away, or used it to press his claim. Then she
had said those terrible things, accused him of being the worst kind
of monster, and he had been sad, not defensive, not aggressive,
sad, as hurt by the implication as her.