Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money. I'm just playing.
I missed out a thank you a few chapters back. Deb, thanks for the medical and horse advice.
Shadow Puppets
Chapter 23
"So Edna," Lula asked from where she was sat in the circle of Tank's arms against the wall of the tiny house, "how long have you been a witch?"
Edna shrugged from the bed. "Beats the hell out of me. Nobody ever told me I was supposed to be a witch."
"Well nothin' else has done any good so far. You reckon you could get us out of here?"
"I'm not done yet," Lester said as he carried on scraping at their translucent prison with the point of his knife. A thin trickle of green ichor pooled underneath the shallow abrasion that he'd created.
"Yeah? Well you ain't got nowhere so far, and when the water runs out I ain't drinkin' my own pee for nobody. What do you say, Edna?"
"I can try. Do you think I need a magic wand?"
"Hell if I know. Can't you just, I don't know, concentrate?"
Edna closed her eyes and screwed her face up. A few seconds later she opened her eyes again. "Anything?"
"Nope. Did you feel anything?"
"Not a thing. I guess I could try dancing naked like that girl in Wisconsin said they do."
Lester shuddered and renewed his attack on the wall. "Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse. Tank, you ready to take over again in a while? We really need to get out of here."
"Sure thing. We better hope that Morelli got clear though. He's our best chance of getting out of here."
"Any way of getting out of here that keeps Edna's clothes on works for me," Lester muttered.
* * *
Morelli woke slowly in a warm space filled with the smell of hay and horses. He could hear rustling sounds around him and the occasional clank, quiet voices somewhere further away. When he opened his eyes he was looking into Garrick's hawk-like face. The older man was sat on a bale of hay watching him.
He looked around to see a wooden half-wall on either side of him. A black horse was watching him with interest from over the nearest one.
Garrick pushed a metal cup into his hands. "Drink this."
He obeyed, gagging at the sweet-salt taste of it. When he had drained the cup he handed it back, grimacing. "Thanks, I think."
"So where are the others?"
"In trouble."
Garrick raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"
"We found Ash. She kicked our asses and trapped the others. I need your help. That's about it." He looked around again. "Where exactly are we?"
Garrick waved absently at the neighboring stall, where a familiar shaggy grey head was eating hay out of a hay-rack. "I remember the last time she wanted to find you. It seemed wise to keep you close by." He leaned forward with a predatory look on his face. "Now, tell me. Where is she?"
"Ash?"
Garrick nodded.
"Right now, I don't know. I'm guessing she left when she trapped the others, but we found her in a house by a big lake."
"Long? With a narrow end that goes round like a hook?"
"That's it."
Garrick rasped a thumb and forefinger over the graying stubble on his chin. "I know it. We can get there in a day."
"We need to hurry. I don't know if they have water in there."
"We can't do anything until tomorrow now. You've slept most of the morning, and you're in no fit shape to ride anywhere today." Garrick nodded his head at the horse. "Neither's she. Get some rest. We'll ride out in the morning."
"You can help? Just like that?"
"Oh yes." Garrick's smile was darkly gleeful. "The chief has no love for Ash either. You'll be in good company in the morning."
* * *
The next day, the barn was bedlam when Morelli rose stiffly from his blanket-and-hay bed. Tack jingled and men shouted as they saddled horses and brought them clattering out into the yard.
The yard was filled with hard-faced young men covered with blue tattoos that wound around bare, hard muscled arms and shoulders in intricate patterns. The village girls, including Belle, were clustered together at the edge watching them. Belle caught sight of him and smiled and waved as the other girls whispered and giggled.
Garrick stood in the middle giving orders as the men checked their horses over and prepared to leave. He grinned when he saw Morelli lead his horse out of the barn to join them.
"Welcome to the warband."
"This is amazing. How many men are you bringing?"
"Half of them, six. The rest will stay behind to watch the village." He stopped suddenly and glowered at someone across the yard. "Berin," he roared. "Haven't you got anything to be doing?"
Morelli followed his gaze and bit back a grin as a tall young man broke away from the crowd of giggling girls and returned to his horse.
Garrick scowled at him before turning back to Morelli. "Do you want a different horse? She'll still be tired."
Morelli thought about the way she'd found the village for him, and the way she'd let him hang around her neck for most of the journey. If she thought that they were a team, who was he to disagree? "No. We'll be fine."
"As you wish. We won't push the pace too hard anyway. We might be out a long time looking." Garrick swung up onto his bay horse and shouted across the yard, "All right. Let's go!"
The warband followed suit, all sitting their horses as easily as they stood on the ground.
"Damn it," Morelli muttered as he looked around, the only man still on the ground.
"There's a mounting block around the corner by the trough," Garrick murmured without looking at him. "Just walk her round. No-one will say anything."
Morelli nodded and led the horse round. He would have liked to think that he managed not to draw attention to himself but the truth was, she was the largest horse in the yard and hooves that size didn't go anywhere quietly. His ego was starting to sting to match his aching legs and back.
He ignored it, and when he was able to walk stiff-legged up the steps of the block and lever himself into the saddle out of sight, he silently blessed Garrick.
He planted his feet in the stirrups and took up a loose hold on the reins, hoping that was the way it was done.
"Okay sweetheart, let's try not to look too stupid in front of everybody, okay? Um, giddy up?"
She sighed gustily and walked out to join the other horses. They clattered out of the village in a loose column and went out onto the grasslands.
The beginning was agony, and Morelli suspected that it was bad for both of them. She seemed to be moving a lot more stiffly than she had on their original wild ride. He practiced sitting up straight and moving with her the way the riders in front of him did until both of their muscles loosened.
Just as it was getting easier, the column picked up the pace into the trot that had rattled his bones yesterday. He did his best but the jouncing started again, and he could feel the tension in the horse's back as she braced against the constant impacts.
The tall youth, Berin, was just ahead of him on a broad roan. Morelli noticed him glancing back occasionally and gritted his teeth with embarrassment.
After a few minutes the roan dropped back so that Berin was riding next to him. "Stand up in your stirrups a little every second beat," he said. "It'll help your horse until you get comfortable. Look, like this." He posted for a few strides, and Morelli copied him. It was a revelation. Suddenly he was in control of his body again and he felt the horse relax as he started working with her.
"Thank you."
Berin grinned. "No problem. You're Morelli, right?"
"I am."
"The man that kissed Belle and lived."
Morelli would have laughed if he wasn't concentrating so hard on posting.
"When we stop you have to tell me how to get past Garrick," Berin continued. "He watches me like a fox in a henhouse."
"No shit," Morelli snorted. "You telling me he shouldn't?"
Berin laughed. "He should. I'll leave you to practice." He pushed his horse forward again to take up his place in the column.
A few minutes later they picked up the pace to a rolling canter, sweeping through the grasslands at a ground eating pace. Morelli found that it was actually getting easier. He grabbed a double handful of mane to brace himself and started to enjoy himself. The sensation of speed beat his Ducati hands down. The pounding of hooves and the shared movement had a rush all its own.
* * *
They stopped to eat and rest the horses when they reached the end of the grasslands and the forest stretched out dark and grim in front of them.
Morelli chewed at a strip of dried meat and listened to the cheerful banter as they talked about the girls back at the village - who had been watching whom, what they were going to do when they found Ash - the hard faces and silence gone along with their breathless audience.
"So Berin," a blonde man with a distinctive pattern of spiral tattoos said around his mouthful of bread, "I saw Mara eyeing you up in the yard. Something going on that I don't know about?"
Berin winced. "Are you joking? She'd eat me alive. She caught Gareth in the barn last week and he had to plead a running case of the pox to get away."
"Which was a lie, by the way," a younger man with close cropped brown hair cut in. "Just in case you were wondering. If Vanna thinks I've got the pox that'll be my chances with her dead in the water."
"Don't worry my friend," Berin said with a broad grin that would have looked more honest on a crocodile, "you can trust me. Of course, Dewar you might have to bribe. Didn't you have your eye on some new tack the next time we went up to High Peak, Dew?" he said to a stocky man with a dark complexion.
"Anything to make that nag of his look less like a girl's horse," a lean man with black hair said, straight-faced. "Did you find anyone that would sell you a bridle with spikes on it, Dew?"
They all sniggered, and Dewar looked embarrassed. "You lot can just shut up. It was just an idea, all right? I never said I was going to get any."
"You haven't got any in years the way I hear it," a brawny red-headed warrior added, and they all howled except for the unfortunate Dewar.
Garrick snorted and shook his head at Morelli. "My men. The pride of the village. Be afraid. I am sometimes."
"You know you love us really, boss," the red-head replied cheerfully.
"Savin, if I was your father I'd have hacked my balls off with a rusty knife in case I had any more like you."
"Didn't you know, boss?" the blonde said innocently. "His mam said she ate too many pickles while she was carrying him. Reckons he was born with his brain already pickled. She ate porridge for the whole nine months next time just in case."
Morelli and Garrick joined Savin laughing along with the rest of them.
Morelli had just taken a swig of water when they expanded the conversation to include him.
"Hey, Morelli," Savin said, "Why such a big horse? Are you trying to compensate for something?"
Morelli choked and sprayed water all over his legs, to general amusement.
"I've never had any complaints," he said when he was able.
"What are the women like where you come from?" Gareth asked.
Morelli thought about the Jersey women that had been closest to him in his life. Stephanie. His mother and Grandma Bella. Terry. Morelli women in general. More recently, Lula. "Frightening," he said firmly. "They don't take crap from anyone. None of them back off a fight. Some of them carry weapons."
He wasn't expecting the hushed silence that followed the last sentence.
"Warrior women," Savin said in awed tones.
"Kind of, I guess. Some of them."
"I'd like to meet a real warrior woman," Dewar said. The rest of the men nodded slowly.
An image of Lula going after Tank like a naked avenging angel sprang into Morelli's mind. "Get my friends out and you will."
Garrick got up and dusted himself off. "All right, up you lot. We have a job to do."
They all got up and went back to their horses, resettling knives and swords around them as they walked.
Garrick joined Morelli as he contemplated the shaggy side-of-a-mountain that was his horse. "She's a good size, I'll give you that." He laced his fingers together into a cup next to the stirrup. "Put your foot here and spring on my count of three."
He boosted Morelli up the horse's side and into the saddle. Morelli gathered up his reins and tried to look like he belonged there as he followed the warband into the forest.
* * *
They had just splashed across a shallow stream when the problem started. His horse started to lag behind the others and her gait became increasingly uneven. By the time they had done another mile it was obvious that she was limping and in pain. Berin was the nearest rider to him in the column.
"Berin," he called. "Problem."
Berin dropped back to ride next to him and watched her move for a few moments.
"Hang on," he said, and cantered to the head of the column. Morelli watched him talk to Garrick before Garrick raised a hand and brought the column to a halt.
He slid off the horse and waited with her as Garrick and Berin rode back to him and dismounted.
"Hold her head," Garrick said as he moved to one of her hind legs and lifted the hoof off the ground to look at the bottom. He touched something there and Morelli felt her flinch slightly.
"She's sore," he said as he ran a hand down her neck and scratched along her mane. "Shh, sweetheart."
She lowered her head and leaned it against his chest, where he rubbed around her ears soothingly.
Garrick put the hoof back down and patted her broad, shaggy rump. "Stone bruise. She'll be all right in a few days but she won't be able to ride out with us now. You're going to have to walk."
Morelli shook his head. "Not an option. We don't have time to walk there; they'll run out of water long before we get there. Damn." He let go of the horse and kicked savagely at a stone on the ground.
"Calm down. I said you'll have to walk. I know where the lake is. We'll go on ahead without you. We'll free your friends and wait for you there."
Morelli took a deep breath. "Okay, fine. We'll do that."
Garrick nodded sharply. "Good. But there's one thing you will do once we're gone."
Morelli looked at him questioningly.
Garrick pulled the sword from where it was tucked in at the back of the saddle and handed it to him, hilt first. "You wear this. All the time. Practice with it, even on your own. Not being armed on your own in the forest is idiocy, and I expect better from the men in my command."
Morelli thought about pointing out that he wasn't actually one of Garrick's men and decided against it. He didn't stand to gain anything from angering the older man. He nodded. "Okay."
Garrick nodded again and swung up onto his own horse. "We'll see you soon." He cantered to the head of the line and waved for them to move out behind him again.
Berin smiled at him reassuringly before following them. "Don't worry, we'll get your friends out. I want to meet this woman, for one thing." He pushed his horse into a canter and re-joined the column as they rode out, leaving Morelli alone with his injured horse in the forest.
An unseen bird sang sweetly above his head, audible in the silence now that his companions were gone. Except for the horse he was absolutely alone.
"Well, I guess it's just us again, sweetheart." He walked over to a large log covered with thick green moss, sat down and looked at the sword he still had in his hand. "You know, I've got no idea what to do with this thing."
The horse limped over to him and tried to investigate the contents of his pockets.
"It's like this whole place wants me to be its Prince Charming," he went on.
She chewed his collar experimentally.
"And then there's you. You're not a normal horse, are you?"
She tugged at the laces tying the neck of his shirt.
"I'm not supposed to kiss you and turn you back into a princess, am I?"
She squealed and rolled her eyes at him.
"Sorry, just checking."
She blew a warm, grass-scented breath through his hair.
He reached up without looking and stroked her soft muzzle. "Yeah, I love you too."
* * *
They walked slowly through the forest together, the horse limping, Morelli watching the path to make sure that they were still following the others and kicking stones and branches out of her way.
Around them the forest was bursting with life. Squirrels leapt from branch to branch above them making the treetops sway and rustle. Birds scolded them from the security of the treetops, or rose up from the ground in a clatter of wings as they approached. Once they disturbed a deer hiding in a thicket. It bounded away gracefully, not looking back.
It was mid-afternoon when he spotted a flash to the right of the narrow path. A fallen tree had left a gap in the tree cover that let the bright sun through, and something had reflected the sun straight at him in a glint that was there and gone again. He stopped and watched the thicket of bushes, holding his sword and wishing he still had a gun.
He could just about see a figure in there, crouched above the ground. As he watched, it moved fractionally. He could see blonde hair that didn't blend in with the thicket as well as the clothes that they were wearing.
He held the sword out in front of him in a two-handed grip and stalked over. "I know you're there. Come out."
The figure didn't move, so he used the tip of the sword to part the branches in front of him.
A girl's voice screamed, and the crouched figure jumped out at him brandishing a large kitchen knife.
Morelli goggled. It was a boy, and he couldn't have been more than ten years old. Tears coursed down the boy's cheeks as he waved the knife in large, unsteady circles in front of him, shouting, "Don't you dare. I'll kill you, I swear I will."
"Whoa, kid, slow down." Morelli backed away slowly, sword raised in front of him in case the child was serious. "I won't hurt you. I'm just passing through."
The boy advanced, the point of his knife shaking. "I don't believe you."
"Put it down, kid. You're going to get hurt."
The boy shook under his gaze and held on tightly to his weapon.
"Damn it." Morelli switched his sword to one hand and stepped forward. When the boy lunged he ducked around the blade and grabbed the boy's wrist, twisting it until he dropped the blade.
"No!" The child thrashed and twisted in his grip, trying to get to his hand to bite or scratch.
"God damn it, kid, calm down," Morelli said in exasperation. "I can't let go of you until you stop doing this."
The boy didn't answer, continuing to thrash and fight even as he ran out of steam. His movements got weaker and weaker until he stood still and drooping in Morelli's grip. His silent crying turned to loud, racking sobs; the tears carved runnels in the dirt on his face before dripping to the leaves.
"That's better," Morelli said softly. "Now I'm going to get rid of this knife and my sword and we're going to talk. No weapons, just you and me, understand?"
The boy nodded, looking at the ground.
"Okay." Morelli kicked the knife away and threw the sword to join it, then let the boy go. He didn't move. "So what's going on, kid? Who are you with?"
"Nobody."
"So where are your mom and dad?"
"Dead," he whispered. "The witch killed them."
Morelli winced. "Oh damn, I'm sorry. Who's taking care of you?"
"Nobody." The boy raised his chin defiantly. "I don't need anybody."
"And what about her?" Morelli jerked his head towards the thicket.
"Who?"
"Don't give me that. I heard a girl scream. Who is it?"
The boy looked at the ground again. "My sister."
Morelli nodded. "Stay there."
He pushed into the thicket and saw another child hiding in the fallen leaves, a little girl about five years old. Her white-blonde hair was a tangle of twigs and dried leaves and she was shaking in terror.
"Come on, little one, out you come." He lifted her up and carried her out to join her brother on the path. They clutched each other as soon as they were together.
"Right, first thing: food." He pulled a handful of dried beef out of his pack and handed some to each to them. They took it from him reluctantly, but as soon as it was in their hands they tore into it as though they hadn't eaten in days. They probably hadn't.
"Now, what are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"
"Hiding in case the witch comes back for us," the boy said as he chewed.
"Why would she do that?"
"She said she wanted us. Dad tried to stop her while Mam hid us in the woods, then she went to help him. They never came back for us. I looked and I found them..." The boy broke to look at his sister and didn't continue.
Morelli nodded his understanding. Poor kid, to have to protect his baby sister and carry that burden all on his own. "Haven't you got any other family? Or friends you can go to?"
The boy shook his head. "Nobody else lives near us."
"What are your names?"
They both shrank back a little. "Mam said never to tell people your real name because they can hurt you with it," the boy said.
"Okay, well I'm Joe. And that's my real name, so I'm trusting you not to hurt me with it. See, now we all get to trust each other and maybe we can be friends. How 'bout I call you Buddy and she can be Twinkle. Will that work?"
The boy nodded while his sister stared at Joe with solemn green eyes.
"Good. Now, I have to go find some friends of mine that are in trouble, and I don't think you two should stay in the woods on your own. Do you think you could walk with me while we think of a safe place for you?"
They both nodded and followed him.
* * *
The children were struggling. The boy was limping badly, and the girl was trailing and tired, a wilting flower. Morelli called a halt.
"Okay you two, foot inspection. Sit on this log and show me your feet."
They obeyed, holding out their feet for him to look at. It wasn't good news. Their shoes were worn and they were both sporting a set of angry blisters. One of the boy's had broken and was trickling blood. It was obvious that they wouldn't be able to walk until he caught up the warband.
"Okay kids, new plan. Have you ever sat on a horse before?"
The boy nodded. "Once."
"So here's what we're going to do. Buddy, we're going to see if she'll let you sit on her back. She's got sore feet too, but you're real light, and I'm hoping it will be okay. If she's happy with you up there, we'll see if your sister can get on too. You think you can do that?"
"I'll try," the boy said.
Morelli faced the horse. "Okay sweetheart, I need your help. You think you can carry them? They're only little, and they could really use a ride. For me?"
She dropped her head down to his chest and offered her ears to be rubbed again.
"Thanks sweetheart. Okay Buddy, you're on. Let's go." He swung the boy up above his head and dumped him in the saddle. He perched up there like a bird on a mountain, but he looked safe enough up there.
"Now you, Twinkle. Come here." He picked her up and started to swing, but instead of landing in the saddle the way that her brother had, she screamed and tried to hang on to his neck, fouling the swing. He let her back down and she clung on to him as she buried her face in his shoulder.
It was a strange experience for a man with no children, but a pleasant one. He had no idea what to do next so he opted to just keep his arms around her and let her hang on for as long as she needed.
"Twinkle?" he said after a little while. "Are you scared?"
The way she was burrowed into his neck, he felt the nod rather than saw it.
"Of the horse?"
Another nod.
"How about I be the horse for a little while? Do you think you could sit on my back?"
Two nods this time. Evidently she liked that idea.
"Okay, here we go."
He hoisted her up onto his back and supported her weight on his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight.
"We call this a piggyback ride where I come from." He hoisted his new passenger up a little and started walking again.
The warband had left a clear trail of hoofprints and trampled vegetation through the woods and it was easy to follow them. Even so, he nearly missed it when the little girl decided that maybe she could talk to him.
"What's her name?" she whispered in his ear.
"What's that, Twinkle? You mean the horse?"
"Yes." It was almost more of a breath against his neck than a word, but as her first step towards confidence it was precious.
"I don't know it. I just call her sweetheart if I want to talk to her. Do you think maybe I should give her a new name?"
"Yes."
"Sure. Let me think. How about... Champion the Wonder Horse."
If it was possible, he felt her smile. "That's a silly name."
"Yeah, you're right, we need a better one than that. How about Trigger?"
"No."
"Silver?"
"No."
"Mr Ed?"
Even the horse objected to that one. She see-sawed her head and rolled her eyes at him.
He laughed. "Okay sweetheart, I hear you. Not Mr Ed. Well," he said to the little girl again, "she's my friend, and in my Grandma's language that would be amica, so how about Amica? Ami for short."
The horse whickered.
"She seems to like it," he observed. "What do you think?"
"I like it too."
"Good. Amica it is. Ami, meet Twinkle and Buddy."
Amica whickered again.
"So that makes us all friends then. Good." He shifted the little girl's weight a little and kept walking.
As the shadows were lengthening and he was thinking about where to stop for the night, she spoke again.
"Greta."
"What's that, Twinkle?"
"My name is Greta. He's Hans."
Morelli smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Greta."
* * *
He stopped for the night next to a wide rock overhang where he could tuck the children up against the wall and put himself on the outside. It would have to do; it was as secure as he could arrange without enough men to arrange a watch. Hopefully Amica would raise the alarm if needed. He cut a large swathe of ferns for them all to sleep on and put the children together in his sleeping bag, preparing for a cold night himself.
Hans went to sleep straight away, exhausted from the day's events, and he thought that Greta had too. He was trying to get comfortable on the cold ground when he heard a tiny sob coming from the sleeping bag.
"Greta?" he whispered.
"I miss my mam," she whimpered.
"Oh God, I'm sorry sweetheart. I wish she could be with you, I really do."
"Will you sleep over here with us?"
"It wouldn't be right, sweetheart. I'm not your dad."
"I miss my dad too."
"Oh Jeez.... all right, stay there. I'll move over."
He moved over to the sleeping bag and curled himself around her on the outside of the sleeping bag so that she was snuggled in between him and her brother. He felt her relax and go to sleep almost immediately.