CHAPTER FIVE: Soaring

French Country Fields

I fell to the ground with a thud. "Ouch!"

Rubbing my bruised, violet feet, I laid on the dirt helplessly. Auguste gave me a pitiful look.

"I'm sorry, Marienbard. I promise – we're close to a resting place." I tried to pull myself up, but my feet seemed to have their own mind and would not let me. Every time I pressed weight down on them, fireworks of stinging pain shot up my legs. I let out an inaudible squeak.

Letting out a small laugh, Auguste grabbed my waist and hoisted me up several feet. Appalled by the sudden action, I involuntarily struggled a bit. "A-Auguste? What are you–?" When he lowered me, my back and knees rested against his forearms, carrying me without a hassle. I went pink and shyly muttered my thanks.

After walking a fairly large amount of miles, Auguste set me down and peered out at the horizon. "It looks like a barn," he observed, as he stared at the silhouette of a small building many yards in front of us. Grinning, He swept me up and now began carrying me on his back, running in an excited, fast pace. I knew he anticipated something about this place, and I thought it best not to doubt him. In a surprisingly short amount of time, we reached the structure.

I climbed off his back, my feet feeling much better indeed, and helped him push the door open – and what I saw almost made me leap with excitement.

"A horse stable!" I exclaimed, beaming ear to ear. "Auguste, you're brilliant!" I would've turned and kissed him on the cheek, save his wolf mask that covered his face. We strolled down the rows, glancing at all of the horses.

"Hm… I've never ridden a horse before," I said, taking interest in a white stallion.

"Neither have I." Auguste walked out of the stable for a moment and glanced upward at the sky. "It's noon. We should probably hurry this up – I want to be free of here quickly."

I nodded, and pointed at another stallion, only this one was black. "I think you should get that one."

Immediately Auguste strode over and put a saddle on the horse, then he assisted me with mine. He gave me a boost onto the back of white animal, and then he began to turn away. "I'm going to check if there are any supplies lying about. Stay here and I'll be right back."

Before he could start looking, a high-pitched voice rang out;

"Hey!"

At first I thought it was the owner, but her next words caught me by surprise, "I was here first!"

A girl about our age appeared in front of us with short, ruby red hair and in authentic brigand attire; a bandana sitting atop her head, a linen shirt made short by tying a knot with the ends of the fabric, and wool trousers. She welt a dagger. I grabbed my scythe instinctively.

"We're weary travelers," Auguste spoke coolly. "Please pardon us."

"Ooh – city urchins," the female-brigand taunted. "Your fancy words don't scare the likes of me."

Unperturbed, Auguste snorted and spat back, "The only thing that makes me flinch about you is that banshee screech of a voice you have."

I disembarked my horse, sanding alert, anticipating something bad to happen. The girl's cheeks grew three shades of pink. Her fists clenched up until her knuckles were white.

"Don't…insult me!"

She came at Auguste with her knife – which she now had two of, pulling another dagger out of the scabbard that was hidden behind her back. He easily blocked the attack with the thickness of his blade. She stumbled back, and before she could charge again, I held my scythe in front of me, and the sharp, curved edge was inches away from her neck. The brigand froze in her tracks.

Auguste liked my movement, and took its advantage. He stepped a few places in front of the girl, and a whimper erupted from her throat.

"We don't want to cause harm," he said in a piteous tone. "But we could use the company. We're heading to Germany, if you are interested." He nodded at me and I lowered my scythe casually. Auguste mounted his horse, and I did mine, not taking my gaze off the girl. Auguste led his horse out of the stable and began heading out, not paying any heed to the brigand.

"I… I have the supplies you were looking for," she said loudly, trying to get Auguste's attention, and indeed he turned. She pulled a satchel out that she had been hiding. The girl tossed the bag up to him. "Merci," he said absentmindedly.

"I wanna go to Germany with you guys," the girl said again, then sneered. "You could sure use my help." She strode over to a horse.

"Really? Is that so?" Auguste spoke with sarcasm only I could detect, and I smirked at him. The thief quickly got on a horse and followed before we could change our minds. In only a minute, we were a ways from the stable.

"The name's Jacqueline, by the by."

He nodded. "Mine's Auguste, and that's Marienbard."

Jacqueline snorted. "'Marienbard'? Pfft. Where're you from?"

"Ireland," I replied with pink cheeks and a glare. "What about you?"

"Orléans," Jacqueline casually stretched and grinned. She glanced up at Auguste. "And you, Mr. Wolfman?"

He didn't find her amusing either. "Rouen."

If Jacqueline were a feline, her ears would have been as straight as a lance. She leaned forward in her saddle. "Ooh…with all that Sorel trouble? Exciting!"

"It's actually why we're out here," Auguste said, then added, "…partially."

"Yeah, I was gonna ask that. Why are you guys out here anyway?"

"My father was sent to Germany by force to serve arms in their cavalry." I answered for Auguste.

Jacqueline sat back down in her saddle in a dismal way. "That's the same this that happened with my troupe."

For some reason I was eager to hear her story; so did Auguste, who slowed a bit and turned to face her. "Your 'troupe'?" he pondered.

"Yeah. I traveled with a group of brigands – I thought you could tell… I was the only girl in our band of thieves, but they were all like brothers to me. Well anyway, we were just a few miles from Orléans when they snatched 'em up." She exhaled through her nostrils deeply. "I sure do miss them."

I suddenly had much more respect for Jacqueline. She was just like Auguste and I – looking for our loved ones. Jacqueline cleared her throat.

"So, I get why Marienbard's here… what's your alibi?" She poked at Auguste.

"I'm giving her the company," he began, "and I hope to find…something in Germany."

I tilted my head. "Like what?"

"I'm not sure. Destiny, maybe? Passion? I just anticipate that when we arrive, we'll not only find your father and your troupe, but I'll also find my… 'place' in this world."

"Do you have a notion of what you want to do?" Jacqueline asked the question before I could.

"Maybe I'll be an apprentice."

I would have never thought those words would come out of his mouth. I had pictured Auguste as a man who would just go into lunacy if he had to take orders or lessons from someone. I was so shocked that I couldn't tell if his truth was hidden behind sarcasm or not. I decided not to fret about it too much.

Auguste had a growing superstition about the soldiers. Every time we stopped to rest, which was rarely, at every noise or rustle he would flinch and tell us to mount. While it only annoyed Jacqueline, I had grown concerned. Was he going mad? For some reason I decided to discuss this with Jacqueline.

"I don't know him too well, so I can't really tell ya spot on," she muttered so we could keep our conversation quiet.

"Well do you at least know about his condition?" I whispered. "Like mentally?"

She gave me a puzzled look.

"Is it…insanity?" The last word was hard to utter out. Much to my relief, Jacqueline only chuckled.

"Nah. He's just paranoid."

"Paranoid?" I thought I had heard Amelie say the word, but I was still unsure.

"You know, like freakishly worried. For instance, a bloke in my troupe was paranoid because once when we were traveling through the woods a dark beast came an' attacked 'im. Gosh, he never stepped a foot in a forest again an' he'd go pale every time he saw a lapdog or somethin', heh."

"So you mean to say Auguste is paranoid of the soldiers that chased us out of Rouen?"

"I guess. He probably thinks that they're still hunting him down or somethin' like that." She laughed.

Eventually Auguste's paranoia fell, and he could feel back at ease again. Jacqueline usually poked fun at him for his brief state, and he only scoffed. I found their bickering quite amusing, yet soon I only became envious and wistful. It was an emotion I could not explain, and one night as I was roused while the others slept I had even dared to call it jealously; every time he brushed off Jacqueline's playful hugging with a laugh it made my eyes moist. I knew it wasn't Jacqueline's teasing and easy-going personality that I coveted…

So why had I become so protective of Auguste? I had known him for countless months – years, mayhap – so was not it time to "share"? And alas, as I watched the two tease each other on a separate day I realized why Auguste was so precious to me:

I was in love with him.