We rode for two more days before we caught up to them.
The sun was still creeping toward noon when we came upon the remains of the bandits most recent camp. The ashes of the campfire were still smoldering, and even in the soft, springy grass the tracks of horses were clear. "We can't be more than two or three ours behind them," I announced.
Douglass leaned forward eagerly in the saddle. "Then let's go!" he urged. "What are we waiting for?!"
"Nightfall," I replied. "We're waiting for nightfall. We'll trail them the rest of the day, but if we get too close we'll lose the element of surprise. We don't want to be seen."
Douglass snorted. "Are we to creep upon them like cowards, then? Attack from ambush?"
"We came to rescue your woman, not pick a fight," I snapped. "Judging by the tracks I've seen we'll be outnumbered three to one at least, and carrying a wounded woman to boot. We're going to sneak in, and sneak her out, with no fuss if we can help it. They're off their guard and hopefully won't post more than a cursory watch. If we can kill him and get away without bringing the whole damned camp down on our heads, so much the better."
"And what about justice for what they've done?" demanded Ruarc.
"You want justice, go to the City Guard, or those Radiant Heart fools. I've no interest in such. I'm here to retrieve the woman, nothing more." Siobhan was implacable, her voice almost bored
There was a moment's pause. Douglass spoke softly, but with great feeling. "My heart cries out for justice as well, my friend, but I will lay aside that today if it means rescuing Moira. They speak truth, my friend. There is little to gain by dying today."
I cast a long, measuring look at him. For perhaps the first time since we'd left Athkatla, the blond man was agreeing with something Siobhan had said. I glanced quickly at the sky for signs of an impending apocalypse. Seeing none, I simply shook my head in disbelief.
We made camp at sunset, choosing a small clearing near a clear, sparkling stream. "Rest up," I ordered. "We'll move out later tonight, after our quarry has had a chance to bed down and go to sleep. Eat, nap, fill your water bags; we may not have time for much of that on the way back, particularly if we don't make a clean getaway."
Baret didn't bother with a campfire, instead doling out rations of bread and jerky. One by one the others lay down for a short sleep before we commenced our nighttime raid. I didn't; my nerves were already humming with anticipation and I knew that rest would not come easily. I decided to walk instead, allowing the night air and faint starlight to sooth my overwrought nerves. Eventually I sat down on the shore of the little stream, listening to its musical trickle.I
I found myself thinking of Ruarc. He had been a good companion these last few days, not complaining or questioning, smoothing over the inevitable conflicts that arose between party members. His worry for his sister was almost palpable. It infused every part of him, from the slump of his shoulders to the tightness of his jaw to the frown that crease his forehead . . .
Spending quite a bit of time looking at him, eh? a treacherous inner voice sneered. Thinking of making a play for the heart of the noble? Grow up. Women like you are fine for rescuing sisters or tickling under hedgerows, but do really think he'd give you a second thought afterward?
I'm not 'making a play' for anyone, I told the voice firmly. I'm just thinking. And thoughts are private, so go away.
"Penny for your thoughts," said a very real voice next to me.
Flustered by Ruarc's sudden appearance -- embarrassing train of thought aside, I was not a woman used to being sneaked up on -- I stammered, "Nothing. . . nothing really. Woolgathering." I looked away from him, gazing at the stream as it burbled on its merry way, oblivious to the machinations of human beings.
He sat down, so close to me that our arms brushed together. "Nervous?" he asked.
Yes, but not for the reasons you probably think, I thought wildly. "A little," I said out loud. "Knowing a battle is coming is, well. . . I guess I like my violence a little more spontaneous."
He smiled. "I know what you mean." He shifted a little, and it suddenly occurred to me that he seemed nervous, as well.
There was a long moment when neither of use spoke. "You fascinate me," he finally said. " I . . . find myself thinking of you, at odd moments." He finally met my astonished gaze. "I've never known any woman remotely like you."
Then, before I could even begin to formulate a response to that sudden outburst, he kissed me. Full on the mouth, one hand stealing up to caress my cheek, leaning close to me until his simple presence seemed to overwhelm any attempt at rational thought. I kissed back with equal ardor, and when he pushed me gently backward to lie on the ground I did not resist.
The sun was still creeping toward noon when we came upon the remains of the bandits most recent camp. The ashes of the campfire were still smoldering, and even in the soft, springy grass the tracks of horses were clear. "We can't be more than two or three ours behind them," I announced.
Douglass leaned forward eagerly in the saddle. "Then let's go!" he urged. "What are we waiting for?!"
"Nightfall," I replied. "We're waiting for nightfall. We'll trail them the rest of the day, but if we get too close we'll lose the element of surprise. We don't want to be seen."
Douglass snorted. "Are we to creep upon them like cowards, then? Attack from ambush?"
"We came to rescue your woman, not pick a fight," I snapped. "Judging by the tracks I've seen we'll be outnumbered three to one at least, and carrying a wounded woman to boot. We're going to sneak in, and sneak her out, with no fuss if we can help it. They're off their guard and hopefully won't post more than a cursory watch. If we can kill him and get away without bringing the whole damned camp down on our heads, so much the better."
"And what about justice for what they've done?" demanded Ruarc.
"You want justice, go to the City Guard, or those Radiant Heart fools. I've no interest in such. I'm here to retrieve the woman, nothing more." Siobhan was implacable, her voice almost bored
There was a moment's pause. Douglass spoke softly, but with great feeling. "My heart cries out for justice as well, my friend, but I will lay aside that today if it means rescuing Moira. They speak truth, my friend. There is little to gain by dying today."
I cast a long, measuring look at him. For perhaps the first time since we'd left Athkatla, the blond man was agreeing with something Siobhan had said. I glanced quickly at the sky for signs of an impending apocalypse. Seeing none, I simply shook my head in disbelief.
We made camp at sunset, choosing a small clearing near a clear, sparkling stream. "Rest up," I ordered. "We'll move out later tonight, after our quarry has had a chance to bed down and go to sleep. Eat, nap, fill your water bags; we may not have time for much of that on the way back, particularly if we don't make a clean getaway."
Baret didn't bother with a campfire, instead doling out rations of bread and jerky. One by one the others lay down for a short sleep before we commenced our nighttime raid. I didn't; my nerves were already humming with anticipation and I knew that rest would not come easily. I decided to walk instead, allowing the night air and faint starlight to sooth my overwrought nerves. Eventually I sat down on the shore of the little stream, listening to its musical trickle.I
I found myself thinking of Ruarc. He had been a good companion these last few days, not complaining or questioning, smoothing over the inevitable conflicts that arose between party members. His worry for his sister was almost palpable. It infused every part of him, from the slump of his shoulders to the tightness of his jaw to the frown that crease his forehead . . .
Spending quite a bit of time looking at him, eh? a treacherous inner voice sneered. Thinking of making a play for the heart of the noble? Grow up. Women like you are fine for rescuing sisters or tickling under hedgerows, but do really think he'd give you a second thought afterward?
I'm not 'making a play' for anyone, I told the voice firmly. I'm just thinking. And thoughts are private, so go away.
"Penny for your thoughts," said a very real voice next to me.
Flustered by Ruarc's sudden appearance -- embarrassing train of thought aside, I was not a woman used to being sneaked up on -- I stammered, "Nothing. . . nothing really. Woolgathering." I looked away from him, gazing at the stream as it burbled on its merry way, oblivious to the machinations of human beings.
He sat down, so close to me that our arms brushed together. "Nervous?" he asked.
Yes, but not for the reasons you probably think, I thought wildly. "A little," I said out loud. "Knowing a battle is coming is, well. . . I guess I like my violence a little more spontaneous."
He smiled. "I know what you mean." He shifted a little, and it suddenly occurred to me that he seemed nervous, as well.
There was a long moment when neither of use spoke. "You fascinate me," he finally said. " I . . . find myself thinking of you, at odd moments." He finally met my astonished gaze. "I've never known any woman remotely like you."
Then, before I could even begin to formulate a response to that sudden outburst, he kissed me. Full on the mouth, one hand stealing up to caress my cheek, leaning close to me until his simple presence seemed to overwhelm any attempt at rational thought. I kissed back with equal ardor, and when he pushed me gently backward to lie on the ground I did not resist.