Lysandra urged Panecillo to run at full speed. The poor, gentle animal did its best, but long races were not common for it, and it started to fall behind the group, foaming at the mouth. She wasn't the best rider either. She was used to the gentle trot of calm afternoon rides, not life-or-death chases first thing in the morning. Moreover, on an empty stomach, which put her in a bad mood. The adrenaline of the chase kept her body too tense, making the ride even more uncomfortable. Her sister Zari, on the other hand, rode much more easily, almost alongside Toothpick, who was in the lead. "Isn't this girl afraid of anything?" she thought. She attributed it to the blind confidence of youth. Wait a minute. She was young too, wasn't she? "Of course I am, I'm not even thirty yet." Suddenly, she recalled the few friends she had managed to make during her childhood. All of them married with children, at least two each, living a quiet and simple family life. And here she was, fighting against the forces of darkness and fleeing with a band of thieves. She pushed those thoughts aside and spurred Panecillo to keep pace.
She looked back, trying to spot their pursuers. She still couldn't see them. They were far away, but she knew they were gradually closing the distance. She felt somewhat reassured when she saw the wooden bridge around the next bend in the road. The Quijada Bridge, as Toothpick had mentioned. She wasn't sure what he had planned, but he certainly had something prepared. She was the last to cross it. The rest had dismounted and were heading down to the river. Toothpick waited for her with the horses.
"Dismount and go down with the others. I'll take care of the mounts."
"But, you will join us too, right?" Lysandra managed to say, almost out of breath.
"Someone has to keep the chase going. I'll take the horses to a nearby cave to hide them. The plan is for the soldiers to follow me, at least for a while longer. Meanwhile, you'll hide under the bridge. There's a small boat under there, use it to go down the river and meet me at the entrance to Verdemar tonight."
"I don't understand, why don't we go with you and hide in the cave?" asked Lysa, struggling to push the dark strands of hair from her face and looking nervously around.
"This way, I ensure you escape. Besides, getting there is complicated, you have to leave the path and go on foot. I know the way well, I'll be much faster alone."
"But..."
"Don't worry about me. Crab and Wart will take good care of you and your sister. Now hurry, they mustn't see the horses without riders."
Lysa took a few steps toward the river. But something stopped her. She wasn't sure why she did it. Maybe nerves, maybe fear. Maybe something else. She turned back and approached him, taking his hands and looking into his eyes.
"Don't get caught. I'll be waiting for you in Verdemar, Alaric. Go to my mother's house, Edel. You'll recognize it easily, the only yellow-painted building in the tanner's district." She gave him one of her earrings, a kind of silver feather hanging from a small hoop. "Give her this, tell her it's a gift from her, and she'll know you're trustworthy."
"Count on it, Lysa."
With a wink and a bold smile, he mounted his horse and rode off, leading the herd until he disappeared around the next bend. It would have been a truly seductive gesture if it weren't for the chipped tooth, the crooked nose, and the swollen, bruised eye. Still, Lysa couldn't help but smile. She stood there, watching him, with a very strange feeling inside, like a knot in her stomach. She heard her sister urging her to get down, and she ran to hide with the rest under the bridge. A couple of minutes later, a large number of mounted soldiers crossed above them at full speed, their hooves clattering on the planks and making a deafening noise. When they were sure all had passed, they slid the small rowboat into the river and began their journey, hidden among the thick, tall reeds lining the banks, helped by the gentle current.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
They followed the course of the river in silence, alert to any sound or sign of being discovered. But all they heard was the pleasant flow of the water, the rustling of the reeds, the chirping of sparrows, and the occasional squawk of herons. The boat was really small. Crab guided it slowly from the back with a pole, and she, her sister, and the young Wart huddled shoulder to shoulder at the front. She wasn't sure if Toothpick would have fit in the boat. Maybe he would, given his thinness. "Gods, he should have come with us."
"Don't worry about him, he's surely managed to throw them off," said Crab in his rough voice. It seemed he had noticed her anxiety. "He knows the way well. We'll meet at the city gates tonight."
Lysandra looked at him and tried to smile, but quickly lowered her gaze again, her expression becoming serious and uneasy. She thought about Alaric. In just a few days, he had gone from being a complete stranger to someone she cared about. It wasn't normal for her to become attached to anyone so quickly. But it was also true that it wasn't common to share life-or-death experiences in such a short time. Just four days, nothing more.
She noticed Wart and Zari holding hands. This brought a faint, melancholic smile to her face. Maybe it was more important for her sister to be happy with the young rogue than to try to find someone "better" for her. The boy was nice, in love, and had shown that he cared for her sister and would take care of her. For Lysandra, that was enough.
She started to play with the ring on her left hand. The engagement ring Lorenz had given her that cold autumn morning. A simple piece of jewelry, from someone with few resources. But in its small stone, it held all the love the man had harbored in his heart. She remembered his look of happiness when she accepted, the nerves, the passionate kiss, the celebration with friends the next day...
And all those happy memories dissolved with the image of her fiancé's face, out of control, pressing the sharp knife against her sister's neck to force her to give him the cursed medallion. She relived the moment she handed it over to those sinister men, whose faces she would never forget, and that terrible and maniacal smile of Lorenz. And she couldn't erase from her memory that purple glow in the depths of his eyes, of that thing looking at her from so close and so far away at the same time. Nor the trickle of blood that started to flow from Zarinia's neck. And herself, entering the mind of that crazed man, forcing him to release her and cut his own throat. And in the end, the pleading and incomprehensible look in his last moments, as that thing that controlled him abandoned him at the very end.
She had failed. They hadn't managed to recover the medallion. They had nearly died. And she couldn't contain that thing. She didn't have the strength or power needed. She didn't deserve to be the guardian.
Without realizing it, Lysa found herself crying uncontrollably. The others looked at her with sadness, and her sister hugged her, distressed and with tears in her eyes as well. At least it was comforting to know that the Count didn't know the temple's location. Otherwise, he wouldn't have needed them at all.
Suddenly, a fleeting idea crossed her mind like a spark. She reached for her pouch and started to feel around.
"No, no, NO... where is it?"
She opened the pouch, rummaged through it, turned it inside out, and emptied its contents nervously onto the damp floor of the boat.
"What is it, Lysa?" Zari asked, worried.
Lysandra looked at her sister, pale.
"Alaric is in danger. And so is Mother."
"I've already told you not to fear for him, he's sure to throw off those soldiers," said Crab, reassuringly.
"No, you don't understand. They know where he is."
"What are you talking about?" asked Wart, puzzled.
"The guiding stone..." Zari whispered, suddenly understanding.
"And if he reaches the city before us, he'll unknowingly lead them to Mother."