28
Lauryn’s Journey

Everything seemed to be going smoothly. Lauryn was enjoying Sorrel’s company, even though she was wary of the old girl; there was just something about her which suggested caution. Still, the daily conversation about herbs and plants fascinated her and even in this short time she had begun to recognise the flowers and grasses which Sorrel pointed out to her.

Sorrel was impressed with Lauryn’s recall of which plant could help an ailment; there were even moments when she was stunned by the young woman’s adeptness at suggesting her own combinations of herbs to achieve a different result. She would make a superb healer.

But mostly they talked about her mother. Lauryn never tired of hearing about Alyssa and was especially pleased when Sorrel commented on their strong likeness, especially as her mother was reportedly beautiful. She could hardly believe they did look alike; nevertheless, in the quiet of night she hugged herself when she thought about it. The tale she repeatedly forced Sorrel to tell was the reunion of her parents at Caremboche and their escape to the Heartwood.

‘Where do you think this Goth is now?’ Lauryn asked.

‘Dead, I should hope,’ Sorrel said with disgust.

‘But you don’t know that,’ Lauryn suggested.

‘No. The last I knew of him, he was hunting us all down in the Heartwood. Saxon, whom I’ve told you about, gave chase in order to lead the Chief Inquisitor away from where your mother was struggling to give birth to you, my child.’

Lauryn smiled, trying to build that picture in her mind.

‘Saxon would have found a way to deal with him and, if not the Kloek, then your father. I’m sure of it,’ the old woman added.

‘Of course. I’m forgetting that you don’t know anything that happened after this Darmud Coril you speak of sent you away with us. That’s right, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

Lauryn considered this as they walked. ‘So really, we have no idea what has happened to my parents since that moment. My mother could be dead,’ she suddenly said.

‘No, child. As I said once before, I would have known. We shared a great deal, your mother and I. And your father would not bring you back to a dead mother; I am sure of that too.’

‘But how do we know they are even together? We don’t know anything about their last fifteen years.’

Sorrel nodded. ‘This is true but don’t labour it, child. Time travels differently here than it does where we have come from. It has not been nearly as long as you think here in Tallinor. Let us try to think only good thoughts. This is hard enough without us anticipating the worst possible situation. Your father is alive. He has called you. One step at a time, eh?’

Lauryn could tell Sorrel was tired. It was only the middle of the morning and yet the old woman was struggling to speak and walk at the same time. Funny, she had seemed so much stronger and healthier in their own world. Here she seemed frail. Mind you, they had walked far; much further than Lauryn could ever recall walking before. In her old life—those little parts of it she could still remember—she knew she had been lazy, had embraced any excuse not to exert energy. Yet, in the past few days of solid walking, she had noticed her complexion was clearing, her clothes felt looser and even her humour was better. She needed no mirror to know these things.

It was a rare sensation, she realised as they walked the roads, to enjoy being Lauryn. It was a grand feeling and the only blot on her day was her brother’s tone over the link.

Who was this girl he had to help, this Yseul? How could he have become so involved with someone, even as a friend, in such a short time? Lauryn grunted, but when Sorrel glanced at her, she ignored the look and kept walking. Gidyon had sounded anxious. Actually, that was what bothered her most of all. She was worried. Just when she had finally found someone to love and care about, he got himself in trouble and she was helplessly far away and unable to help. She wanted to open a link with Gidyon right this moment, but she dared not. He had made it very clear that he needed to be left alone to think.

The hedgerow was thickening and, as they approached a bend in the road, Sorrel stopped.

‘Are you all right?’ Lauryn asked, coming out of her thoughts.

‘Someone approaches,’ Sorrel said quietly. ‘Lauryn, it is important to say this now. Should anything happen to us—’

Lauryn cut across the old girl’s words. ‘What do you mean, happen?’ She sounded alarmed.

‘I mean, child, should we get separated, or if I am unable to travel with you for any reason, you must make your own way to the Heartwood. Do not wait for me. Do not even pause for me, no matter what might occur. Get yourself to Axon and into the Great Forest, to your father. Make haste.’

Lauryn could hear men’s voices now and the sound of horses. They were moving slowly.

‘Lauryn.’ Sorrel insisted she listen. ‘Do not tell anyone who you are or how you come to be here. Let them know nothing about your background. Lie if you must but get yourself to the Heartwood as fast as you can—alone!’

Lauryn could hardly miss the fear in Sorrel’s voice but she had no time to ask more. Around the curve of the road appeared four horsemen. She and Sorrel moved to the grass verge, eyes averted, expecting them to pass.

‘Who are they?’ Lauryn whispered.

‘King’s men,’ was all Sorrel had time to say.

The horses ambled to a halt. One of the men addressed them. ‘Pardon me, ladies. Are you alone?’

‘Obviously,’ Lauryn answered, feeling nervous from Sorrel’s caution. The old woman hissed at her.

The man got down from his horse and his men followed. He approached the two women and spoke. ‘May I have your names, please?’

Sorrel curtsied. ‘Forgive my granddaughter, sir. She is in poor humour today.’ She glared at Lauryn to remain quiet. ‘I am Sorrel, a herbwoman. This is Lauryn. We are travelling towards Axon.’

‘I see,’ he said. He looked at Lauryn. ‘We are patrolling this area for a band of thieves. We lost sight of them last night.’

‘Well, we haven’t seen anything,’ Lauryn said, hoping to bring the conversation to a close.

He ignored her tone and addressed Sorrel. ‘Madam, may I suggest that you exercise caution in travelling alone with a young woman. These men have shown themselves to be ruthless. They already know they are dead thrice over for their deeds; they show no regard for anyone.’

‘Are we in danger from them here?’

‘Well, madam, the next village is not far. I would suggest you remain there today and perhaps join with a group who may be travelling to Tal or even Hatten. Safety in numbers. The road seems clear. We have made our presence felt so you should be safe.’

He smiled kindly. ‘I am Captain Lyngos, by the way.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Sorrel said, curtsying politely again.

Lauryn could not help herself. ‘I would suggest travelling in a group would draw more attention to ourselves. At least with just the two of us, these men, should we encounter them, will quickly see we have nothing worth stealing.’

The captain turned back to her. ‘Do you not?’

‘No,’ she replied, a little haughtily. ‘My grandmother and I are on foot. We have one bag with a few items of no interest to anyone. We have so little money; it probably would not keep them in ale.’

‘Young lady,’ the captain said, eyeing her firmly, ‘these men may take your grandmother’s coin, but they may also decide to rob you of something more precious.’

It took Lauryn a moment to realise what he meant. He was already on his horse and moving forwards when understanding hit and she felt herself blush with hot embarrassment.

‘The Light guide you safely,’ the captain said to Sorrel and they moved on.

When the guardsmen were out of earshot, Sorrel turned on her. ‘You must learn to curb that quick tongue of yours. It will get you into trouble. You have no status here yet. That was a captain of the King’s Guard and due your respect.’

Sorrel broke into a coughing fit which lasted some minutes. She could say no more.

By the time she was calm again, the incident was put aside. Lauryn was now worried for Sorrel, who was sitting on the ground from the effort of coughing.

‘Are you sick, Sorrel? How can I help?’

‘Not sick. Just old,’ she said. ‘It is almost my time.’

‘Your time?’

‘My work is almost done. I must see you safely into the care of your parents, then I can go to my rest.’

It all sounded too ominous for Lauryn. She changed the subject. ‘Are you able to continue walking?’

‘Help me up, child. We must be alert until the next village.’

Lauryn offered to carry her bag but Sorrel refused. Instead, Lauryn insisted she lighten the load and removed three apples to her own pockets and carried the small flask of fresh water. It made little difference, she was sure, but she felt better for doing something.

They covered the next mile or so wrapped in their own silent thoughts. Progress was slow but the weather was fine and it was a good road they walked. Lauryn began to relax. Sorrel was weak, there was no doubt about it, but she was a gritty old girl and made no further complaint. By mid afternoon, they sensed they were not far from the village of Hamptyn. Sorrel said they would have to stay overnight, even if they just begged the cover of a barn and a knuckle of bread from one of the farmers.

Just as she finished saying this, they rounded another bend in the road and were confronted by a small upturned cart. Lying at the side of the road was a seemingly lifeless man, his face covered in blood. By his side a lad knelt. He looked very distressed and, when he saw them, he jumped to his feet and started yelling. ‘Help me, please! It’s my da. He’s dying.’

‘Light!’ Sorrel said. She did not heed her own warning and broke into a fast shuffle over to the boy. ‘Quick, Lauryn,’ she called over her shoulder.

Lauryn took in the scene. Sorrel had told her to be so careful and here she was rushing into a situation without care. Lauryn could see that something was not right here.

Sorrel dug a cloth out of her bag to clean up the man and see how bad his wounds were.

‘Lauryn!’ she yelled. ‘I need some water.’ Lauryn moved closer and handed Sorrel the flask. ‘Use this. We can always get more.’

She looked at the boy. He immediately averted his eyes, though she knew he had been staring. There was not so much as a tear staining his face, for all his anxiety over his father. Something told her his antics were forced. He kept darting his attention behind her. No horse! That was it. That’s what was wrong. Where was the horse which had been pulling this cart?

She swung around but it was too late. Three burly men were approaching behind her.

She screamed and the boy grabbed her. He was rangy but strong and his fingers dug cruelly into her arms. Sorrel began to scream as well as the wounded man sat up and grabbed her too, laughing.

‘Let’s see what’s in this bag then, shall we, old lady? And if there’s nothing worth taking, I’ll help myself to something from her,’ he said, licking his lips clear of the blood smeared all over them and eyeing Lauryn.

‘No!’ shrieked Lauryn, with clear understanding of his intentions.

One of the men dangled a rabbit in her face; its throat cut and still oozing the blood which had been smeared on the ‘wounded’ man’s face. She tried to push it away but blood flecked her face in her effort. The men laughed.

‘Take her into the woods,’ the leader said, standing, one foot pinning Sorrel to the ground.

Sorrel found her voice. ‘Run, Lauryn, run!’

The boy turned back and belted Sorrel so hard that the old lady fell backwards and lay deadly still.

Lauryn had been in shock to this point. But now she felt fury rising and, although two of the burly men had literally lifted her off her feet and were running her off the road into the copse of trees ahead, she began a titanic struggle. She screamed, kicked and bit whatever she could find. Fortunately, she found one man’s ear and ripped the lobe clean off. He screamed and let go of her, but the other fellow still had a mighty grip. Her arm had gone numb from his hard hold on it. He slapped her.

‘Get up, Belco!’ he ordered. ‘Help me get her away from here. We can have some fun later and you can get your revenge. You had ugly ears anyway.’

Belco belted her too, for good measure. It felt to Lauryn as though he might break her arm by the cruel way he twisted it behind her back. Her head burned from the blow but she could still see the image in her mind of Sorrel lying on the grass, lifeless, and the first man rifling through her bag.

The leader arrived, the lad behind him. ‘Where’s my grandmother?’ Lauryn screamed at them.

‘Dead!’ the leader said viciously. ‘Which is what you’ll be if you don’t shut your mouth.’

Captain Lyngos and his men arrived at the rendezvous point. His chief, the Under Prime, was kneeling at a stream near where they had set up camp. Shirtless he stood up, flicking water from his hair and face, and used his old shirt to dry himself. The Under Prime was a good-looking man; he reminded Lyngos of Prime Cyrus from years ago. He possessed the same quick wit and intelligence, as well as the dashing bravado and arrogance which won the hearts of the ladies.

It had been hard to accept him as their chief at first. They could all remember him as the little boy who had been found chained to the palace railings. Now he was a man. Not exceptionally tall, but built strongly with a heart to match. He had earned their respect the hard way, beating all of them with sword, stick, fists if necessary. None of the men had made it easy but he had won through.

It was clear that the young man had not asked for this position. He was a favourite of the King and it had been dropped onto his broad shoulders with no choice but to accept. He had not pushed his role too hard; Gyl was intelligent enough to realise that he must take the business of leading men slowly. Trust had to be earned. With Prime Herek away, as his deputy he was in charge of the remaining company.

‘Anything?’ he said, striding towards them with his distinctive swagger.

‘No, sir. All quiet. We have swept around from the back of Hamptyn and the only people we encountered were an old woman and her acidtongued granddaughter.’

Gyl nodded. ‘They’re here, all right. But they’re too clever for their own good.’ He walked to his saddlebag and dug out a fresh shirt. ‘All right, we break camp and set up a new rendezvous point and we’ll go through this next ten miles with a fine comb.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Get your men fed and rested, Lyngos.’

The captain nodded and saluted, then turned to give orders.

‘Oh, Lyngos, these people you met—was it wise to let them travel alone? How old was the girl?’

‘I’d guess around sixteen summers, sir. Dressed plainly. They were on foot and insisted they had nothing worth taking.’

‘Other than the obvious thing that fiends like these will not think twice about stealing,’ Gyl said, shaking his head. ‘Did you offer them an escort?’

‘No, sir, I didn’t. They were adamant that travelling alone suited them.’

Gyl believed the captain should have insisted, and Lyngos now realised he should have too. These men had killed many times and, having had the death sentence proclaimed on them over and again, had nothing more to lose. Rape was one of their favourite pastimes. An old girl and a young woman on foot would be easy pickings.

‘Thank you, captain. Get some food into you.’ Gyl dismissed the men and pulled on his shirt.

He knew the story of Alyssa’s rape, which she had told him haltingly one rainy night a year or so ago. He could not recall why this tale had spilled out just then, but they had cried together over it and he had made her a promise then and there, that every woman in the Kingdom would be safe when he was Prime.

That comment from a young man had brought a smile to Alyssa’s face. ‘My brave Gyl. So you think you’ll be Prime one day, do you?’

‘I shall lead my men bravely and I shall die for my King if required,’ he had said, leaping to his feet and grabbing the sword he was so proud of. ‘And every woman will be able to travel the roads of Tallinor without fear!’

He remembered how his stepmother—the woman he now thought of as his true mother—had stood and hugged him hard. ‘That is a fine promise.’

Gyl brought his thoughts back to the present and called for his horse.

‘Carry on. I’ll catch up with you,’ he reassured the captain, who looked over at him enquiringly. ‘I’ll just see those women safely into Hamptyn.’

He hit the road at a steady canter.

Lauryn felt real fear now. ‘What do you want from me?’ she yelled at the leader.

‘All it is that you have left to give us,’ he said and laughed.

‘Tie her to that tree for now, Belco. What happened to your ear, man?’

‘She bit me,’ Belco lamented, pushing Lauryn back against the tree trunk.

‘Well then, you’ll just have to bite her back later in a place she’s never felt such pain before,’ the man replied and grinned horribly at her.

Lauryn knew if she did not do something right now, it was over for her. These men would rape her, maybe torture her. Certainly they would not leave her alive. And Sorrel was dead! She could not dwell on that now, but Sorrel had forbidden her to linger, had urged her to flee at any sign of danger. And she would never see her Gidyon again, or meet her father, or be held in her mother’s arms if she did not do something now!

With that rush of emotional thought, a new sensation flowed through her body. She felt it like a pulse and then she sensed the Colours; it was as though they were rushing through her. Suddenly she felt lightheaded and…powerful. Yes, that was it! She felt power. Not really understanding the sensation, or knowing what to do with it, she reacted instinctively when Belco bent her arm painfully back behind her for the second time that day.

Belco’s body hit the tree opposite with great force and a sickening crunch. His body dropped to the ground, broken; his ear leaking a trickle of blood, which would stop shortly because his heart no longer pumped life.

The two other men had their backs turned, but the lad saw what happened and called out in shock. The men turned, their eyes flicking first to Lauryn, who was still untied, and then to Belco on the floor.

‘Get her!’ the leader cried and they rushed her.

Lauryn blinked, still struggling to understand how she had harmed Belco, and then she was running.

Sorrel’s voice haunted her: ‘Run, Lauryn, run!’ and run she did, like a startled hare. She picked up her skirt and crashed through the copse of trees at a speed she never thought she possessed, but the men were in hot pursuit. She zigzagged, trying to throw them off, but knew she was making far too much noise, so she headed for open country, bursting out of the cover of trees and running across a field.

They spotted her, of course, and soon the lad was gaining on her. Lauryn stepped up her speed but the burning in her chest told her she could not keep this up; she might be able to outrun the two heavy men but not the lad, and he was all it would take to pin her down.

So she stopped and turned on him. Breathing heavily, she eyed him ferociously and it stopped him in his tracks. He approached cautiously.

‘Don’t take another step forward,’ she said.

He lunged but found himself hurled high into the air; when he found land again it was with an assortment of broken limbs. He began to scream from the pain but Lauryn did not care. She turned on her heel and ran off through the field, with no idea of where she was headed, other than away from the scene of death behind her.

Gyl cantered around the curve of the road and scanned the scene. An overturned cart lay there, but had nothing in it, which was odd. Lyngos had made no mention of this either, but if the accident had just occurred, there would be lots of confusion, a terrified horse and its owner trying to calm it down. Gyl remained on his horse, cautious that this could be a trap.

Approaching slowly, he suddenly noticed a woman lying at the side of the road, her body roughly covered by a few branches. She was silvery-haired and clearly old. His heart sank. This was probably the old woman Lyngos had mentioned. With no sign of the granddaughter, Gyl could only imagine the worst. He punched his thigh, anger gripping him that this could have happened under his very nose.

He made a swift decision. If the old girl was dead, then there was nothing he could do for her. Right now, he might still be able to save her granddaughter.

With a kick of his stirrups and a cry of anger, he forced his horse up the small embankment and into the copse. He drew his sword and guided the horse carefully through the trees. It did not take Gyl long to find the smashed body of Belco. Once again he did not leave the safety of his high position. The man was dead, that was for sure, but he could not imagine what had happened here.

Witnesses had reported three men and a lad, so there were three outlaws still on the loose. He called out but received no response, so decided to head out of the copse and see what lay beyond. Emerging from the cover of trees, he looked ahead and saw two men running across the field. When he squinted he could see the golden hair of a woman bouncing wildly, running not that far in front of them.

Gyl spurred his horse into a gallop and gave mad chase. The men turned to see a King’s man bearing down on them at speed and one peeled off immediately. Gyl pursued the other man, who was closing on his prey. The Under Prime caught up with him quickly and slashed at the back of his legs, cutting through tendon and muscle and bringing the bandit to a screaming halt. It was not the leader.

Gyl did not even slow but pushed his horse faster, until he could reach down and grab the girl. She flailed in panic in his grasp. One moment Gyl had her cleanly up and onto the horse; the next, he found himself on the ground, which he had hit so hard he could see stars.

It took him what felt like a long time to roll himself onto his back, where he lay in pain, sucking in great gasps of air. Had the horse stumbled and thrown him? No! Gyl never lost his seat and certainly not from Bryx. He was the finest horseman in all of the company.

He lay there thinking unclear thoughts, wishing the pain would dissipate.

Where was Bryx? Where was the girl?

‘Er…I found your horse,’ a voice said.

Gyl opened his eyes to slits and turned his head painfully towards the sound. He saw a girl covered in mud. ‘Are you all right?’

‘In better shape than you, I believe,’ she said, sheepishly. ‘I fell into some sort of swamp. Can you move?’

‘I’m not sure. Everything hurts. Did you see what happened?’

Lauryn lied. ‘No. You must have fallen from the horse.’

Gyl pushed himself painfully to his elbows to regard her. ‘The Under Prime does not fall from his horse,’ he said, disgusted at himself.

‘How do you feel?’

‘Not good. May I ask for your help?’

Lauryn looked at the horse, unsure of what to do.

‘The horse won’t go anywhere. He comes at a command. His name is Bryx. And I am Gyl, Under Prime of Tallinor…I’d like to say at your service, madam, but it seems I am far from that.’

Lauryn smiled through the mud which she could feel covered all of her face and hair. The immense fear was falling away and the Colours were falling with it. She felt dreadful about what she had done to this man, who had obviously been giving chase to help her, but how could she have known that in those seconds of terror? Lauryn did not understand what she had struck out with, but it was effective; she knew that much!

‘Where are they?’ she said, letting go of the reins and approaching him.

‘One’s dead in the copse—I have no idea why or how. I felled another with my sword, but not mortally. The third ran in a different direction when he saw me. Light! If I had only kept my seat, I could have had them both under chain by now.’ Gyl shook his head with disgust again. ‘And apparently, there was a lad with them.’

Lauryn said nothing about the boy. ‘Did you see an old woman at all?’

‘Yes, I’m sorry. She is dead. They have much to answer for, these men.’

Lauryn bit back tears. She helped him to stand.

‘Nothing broken, I don’t think,’ he said tentatively, leaning on her and gingerly testing his weight on his legs. ‘Here, Bryx!’

He clicked his tongue at his horse, who obediently walked to his master. ‘Let’s get you back to Hamptyn and work out things from there,’ Gyl said kindly.

‘Oh no,’ Lauryn said, pulling away. ‘I’m not going back.’

‘But what about your grandmother? Where are you going? You surely don’t mean to go on alone?’

‘My grandmother is dead. I am going to continue my journey to Axon and I definitely do mean to go alone,’ she replied defiantly, remembering Sorrel’s urgent warnings.

He looked at her. ‘What is your name?’

‘Lauryn.’

‘And where do you come from, Lauryn?’

The question caught her by surprise. Sorrel had warned her not to say too much, so she blurted out the first place which came to her mind. ‘Mallee Marsh.’

He seemed surprised. ‘Really? That’s where my mother comes from too. Why are you headed for Axon?’

‘Why all these questions?’

‘Lauryn, I am in charge of the security of the Kingdom. I have a right to know your business.’

‘And do you think one young woman travelling alone could threaten the security of a Kingdom?’

This girl made him feel foolish. And she managed to achieve that whilst dripping mud from every inch of herself and staring at him from a mud-encrusted face.

‘No, I don’t.’

‘Then thank you for your concern…Gyl, is it? I am grateful for your help but I wish to continue my journey.’

‘I cannot permit you to continue alone.’

Lauryn felt exasperated by his stubbornness. And he was such a good-looking man. She did not wish to sit close to him on that horse of his, with her back against his chest; though then again…

She was completely confused by all these feelings and spoke sharply to cover it. ‘Can you hold me against my wishes, sir? I have broken no law.’

Gyl knew he was clutching at straws. ‘Axon is a long walk from here, for a woman alone.’

‘It would be no shorter if I was walking with ten others.’

Light! She infuriated him. ‘Are you not scared of the outlaw who is still on the loose?’

Lauryn no longer felt frightened. If anything, she was more terrified by the powers which seemed to be at her command. She needed time to think on what had happened and how she had loosed such magic. Sorrel had insisted she go on alone should anything untoward happen. Well, it had happened and she would go on as instructed…if she could only escape this handsome man’s interest in her. She was finding it hard to even look at him, with that shirt torn open and his broad chest revealed.

‘No, I am not scared because I know you will track him down and keep me safe.’

Gyl smiled inwardly. How could she know him so well? A pity he could not see her face through the mud. He liked her strength.

‘Do you know which way to head for Axon?’

‘Perhaps you could show me,’ she said. She wanted to wipe the mud from her hands on her skirt, but it may betray the nerves she felt at his keen interest.

Gyl knew he was not going to win this argument. He had a duty to his men and it was time he returned to them. He still had to pick up the felled man, sort out the body in the copse and start tracking the final villain in the pack. The Light only knew what had happened to the boy.

‘The longer, easier route is back to the road and then head east.’

‘There is another way, I’m guessing?’ she said.

‘Yes, over these hills. It’s steep and very hard walking. But you will cut two days from your journey. Just head north east and you will see Axon nestling in a shallow dip next to one of the forest’s fingers.’

‘Then that is the way I shall head. It will also take me away from the outlaw, I believe. You will find him, won’t you?’

‘For you, Lauryn, I shall. Do you wish me to wait whilst you clean yourself up?’ Gyl was beginning to think he would like to lay eyes on the girl behind this mask.

Lauryn was horrified. At least she had been able to hide her plump, plain looks behind the mud. And ‘clean up’ meant taking her clothes off. Certainly not!

‘No, please. You have spent enough time with me. I am fine and thank you for the directions.’

‘What about food? There are no farms or villages in that direction.’

Lauryn remembered the apples in her pocket. It was hardly a meal but they would suffice. She was anxious to be on her way. ‘I’ll survive,’ she said and turned.

‘If you ever get to Tal, ask for me,’ he called after her.

She did not look back.

It had sounded like a good idea until she found herself on the moors. What would she not give for the strong back of Bryx and the broad chest of Gyl to lean against now? It was a comforting thought. She would hold that picture of the handsome Under Prime in her mind’s eye. Lauryn was exhausted from climbing; she had not realised how much the day’s terror had taken out of her. Alone, feeling lost and past being hungry, she wanted to cry, but she battled through it.

Finally, as dusk settled, she found a reasonably sheltered spot to rest, knowing the night’s chill would descend quickly. After gobbling down two of the apples, she pulled her shawl tightly around herself and drifted into a deep sleep.

In her fright and subsequent jumbled thoughts, she had forgotten to link with Gidyon, but in this she was fortunate. As Lauryn slept, Gidyon was unleashing an awesome vengeance on the town of Duntaryn.

She woke uncomfortably just as dawn was breaking across the moors. Bones aching from her cold, hard bed and feeling nauseous from the lack of food, Lauryn cast.

Gidyon answered her immediately. At last!

She was grumpy enough without this sort of comment. Really? Well, the last time I dropped by you asked me to leave.

She had not meant to react so viciously. In fact, Lauryn would have given anything at that moment to feel his long arms around her and hear his voice telling her that everything was going to be all right.

Good morning, Lauryn. I see you’re in your usual charming mood, he replied, though not unkindly.

If only you knew what’s happened since we last spoke, you’d be more gentle.

That won his full attention. What has happened? Are you safe?

It felt comforting to hear such fright in his voice. How special it was to know someone cared.

Yes, I’m fine now. Sorrel isn’t doing so well. She faltered, fought back the tears again. Oh, Gidyon…Sorrel’s dead.

She told him everything from the moment she and Sorrel had encountered the overturned cart. He was silent throughout. It was a shock for him to hear the terrible story.

What about you? What happened yesterday? she asked as an afterthought.

This was not the time to tell her, Gidyon decided. Oh, it was all a misunderstanding. Everything is fine. Figgis and I are setting off now.

Who is Figgis?

Long story, he replied. How long do you think it will take you to get to Axon?

That fellow Gyl said I’d be able to reduce the time by around a couple of days, so I’m guessing it must be roughly a two-day walk from here.

Keep the link open for me, Lauryn. Even if we’re not speaking, at least we can both feel connected and together. Are you breakfasted and ready to leave?

Well, I have this lonely apple just dying to hit my belly.

She heard him chuckle. You’re doing better than us then! We have nothing. Start walking.

It did feel so much better having him inside her head. After a long stretch, the final apple and a few sips of water which she found captured in the large leaves of a plant she remembered Sorrel saying made the best tonic for arthritis, Lauryn felt renewed. She pushed sad thoughts of Sorrel from her mind and resumed the hard trudge.