Chapter 7

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“Noooooo!!!”

The scream was so loud, piercing even, that Gretchen thought had been torn from her own throat. But no, it was Salvie that had leapt forward, breaking free of the man’s grasp and leaping at the woman called Nejuh. Her hands scratched and tore, drawing blood even as she was twisted by unnaturally strong arms.

To the side, Gretchen could see her father shouting, moving forward with a determined step. Too fast, everything was happening too fast. She started to rise, to move to the doorway, but froze at the sound of a scream cut off in a wet cough.

There, lying broken and bleeding on the table, was her step-mother. She had always admired Salvie, had always been thankful that the singer and storyteller had caught her father’s eye. Salvie had brought love and laughter back into the family, at a time in which it was sorely needed. And now she was dying, torn apart by the dark-skinned woman who seemed completely apathetic about it.

Her father had stopped mid-stride, unbelieving eyes locked onto the table. Then he turned, slowly facing the two intruders.

“Why?”

The word rang loud in the sudden silence, broken only by the burbling sobs of Salvie. The long haired man shrugged, equally as unmoved as his companion.

“I gave you a chance. You lied. This is the price.”

Her father nodded. Then he moved quietly to the table, cupping Salvie’s face in his calloused hands. “If I help you, will you save her?” He did not turn his head to ask the question, continuing instead to gently hold his dying love.

“I suppose we could. If you truly lead us to the man we seek.”

“Very well.” He moved then, picking up Salvie’s body, and turned towards the door. As his gaze drifted aimlessly over the window, Gretchen saw a flash of recognition, and he paused in this step to stare at the doorway. His head turned towards the man and woman, though he appeared in a daze. His voice was a low rumble now, a tone Gretchen easily recognized. Her father never angered easily, but like an inevitable flood, once it arrived it was unstoppable.

He spoke, utterly serious and yet somehow distant.

“I wish you to know this. No matter how far you travel, no matter where in the world you seek to lay your head, we will remember you. And you will not forget us. When the day comes for old debts to be paid, you will receive your due reward. Now let me help you, as only a righteous man should.”

The two intruders looked curiously at one another, obviously puzzled and amused by her father’s speech, but Gretchen knew. Knew those words were meant for her, disguised as an empty threat but in truth, a declaration of love and the command of a parent. Her father wanted vengeance. And yet even now, he would do everything in his power to protect his family.

Frozen in place near the window, she watched as he led the two individuals outside and down the path towards the far pasture.

No one looked back. No one noticed the trembling form of a girl racing to the stable, nor heard the soft pounding of hooves as she rode into the night.

They would realize, eventually. After her father was unable to give them the body they desired, they would kill him and search the farm. They would find the missing horse, and would know someone escaped.

But somehow, whatever method they used to track the man known as Esadras no longer seemed to work. Perhaps his death had broken it, and his current form within the silver-lined card could not be traced. However it was possible, because of her father she now had a head start.

But where should she go?

Simply heading into town would do no good, there was no one powerful enough to fight off the two individuals behind her. Even Doric (who for all his bluster was known to be decent at hand to hand combat) would be thrown aside like kindling.

Perhaps to the capital? If she could ride north fast enough, she might be able to petition the king… but no, that was a foolish thought. What king would have time for a farmer’s daughter? Regardless of the fair judgment he proclaimed to have for all denizens of his kingdom, it would do no good.

Besides, hadn’t Esadras mentioned something about these people controlling kingdoms? She would have to discuss such things further with him, when she had the time.

South then. Through the Gatisvall Peaks, and the deep forests beyond. If she traveled far enough, she might even make it to the sea, and board a ship to another land. Maybe Patalli?

Decision made, she jerked the reins to change direction, but immediately felt guilty and murmured a soft, “Sorry Beln,” as the horse snorted in response. At this rate, she should reach the mountains border by morning. She would have to stop somewhere for food, but luckily she still had a few coins from the festivities earlier in the evening.

No extra clothes though. No gear, no equipment, not even a memento of home… her thoughts turned to Salvie and the twins, and a sob choked out. She had tried not to dwell, tried to ignore the lingering fear and anger that threaten to overwhelm.

She could never return home. Her father had said as much, had even hinted that she would need to leave Daeton, but it seemed so unreal.

Like a nightmare she would soon wake up from; rising from the sheets to see Talyion’s rays through the open window, and hearing Salvie sweetly humming as she prepared the morning meal. The cows would need tending, and old Faye the sheepdog would bring her charges in for the daily chores.

Instead, her eyes stung with tears and her ears picked up nothing more than the dull thrum of hoof upon road as Beln did his best to carry her beyond the mad desires of hungry demons.