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Horses’ hooves sounded in the distance, sending chills down Val’s spine. Gods, but they had caught up so fast. They did not come from the outpost; there was no way they had the time.
This must have been the main party returning to the village.
She had not looked back. She could hear them over the sound of Aditi’s gallop. It was already dark, but they had not stopped a moment, although her legs had gone numb from gripping so hard onto the horse’s sides. She felt that if she were to hold on any longer, her arms would drop from his torso, and she would simply fall to the ground.
Marat heard them, too.
They’d come to the bottom of a hill with a shallow rock outcropping. He’d suddenly stopped Aditi, turning her completely around. She saw the All-Father’s Reach swing around, and there was an almost immediate quiet twang and whoosh of an arrow. He began reloading before seeing if it had hit its mark.
The high-pitched swish of the next sliced the air.
There was a shout and then another.
They sounded near.
Another swish, his speed had been astounding. Something heavy hit the ground, heavier than a man. Val felt the earth tremor with the impact.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the horse come flying into the outcropping, and again he let go. The man had swung the sword, and Aditi recoiled, but the soldier’s horse kept going as its rider slumped and fell completely limp off its side. At such short range, the arrow had gone through his chest, and if one were not to pay close attention, the entry wound would escape their notice - at least until the blood pooled under his tunic.
“More will come.” Marat jumped down and pulled Val to her feet. She saw how tense his body was and how the blood began seeping through the sleeve where the soldier’s sword had caught him.
Were it not for Aditi, the wound would have been much worse.
“Are you alright?” She asked, following him as he walked rapidly into the darkness. “You’re bleeding, Marat, stop!”
“We have no time, Val.” He ran up to a large, dark shape, and a pained moan grated the air. A horse, an arrow through its head, lay atop a man. His body was crushed, and the hand that lay unrestrained above his head kept squeezing into a fist and letting go again. His eyes were cloudy, and a streak of blood ran from the corner of his mouth across his cheek and down into his sandy, tangled hair.
Marat stood looking down at him with a strange, thoughtful expression on his face. There was something about that moment...
The man shifted and moaned again, louder, with a gurgling tapering off his whimpers. Marat began to walk away but kept looking back, his eyes on the soldier.
The fist clenched again.
And again, it loosened.
The man let out a loader groan–
–but before he’d even ended it, Marat pulled his blade and plunged it down into the man’s head through the bloody mouth. He stood still, looking at his sword lodged among the gore. And he breathed hard, strained, he did not move.
“Gods…” Val covered her mouth, the wet sound forcing a gag.
As if snapped out of a dream and without a word, he pulled the hunter's knife from the remains. Val did not dare to say another word; she just followed after him.
“Get on,” Marat instructed. She looked at him questioningly. His face did not change.
“I cannot reach…” She started, but his intensity had forced her to trail off.
“Get on, Val.”
She looked at the stirrup and then her feet. She reached for the pommel, trying to pull herself up, but her foot kept coming up too short. Her arms shook, her muscles exhausted from hours of grasping onto Marat in their chase.
“Grab the horn.”
She moved her hand up and clasped it.
“The back of the seat.”
She glanced at him again and moved her other hand to the back of the seat.
“Close to the horse’s body, pull yourself up and catch a stirrup.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
She did as he said and caught her footing on the stirrup with her right leg.
She pulled her body up and swung her leg and, with great surprise, found herself far above Marat’s height. He did not praise her, nor did he say another word. He only pulled himself up behind her and urged Aditi on.
Again, the rumble of riders echoed across the valley. It was nearing morning now, and they’d been hidden in a shallow ravine, watching the group of fifteen horses move across the valley. This outfit had been larger, faster. Their horses rested, the riders too. These came from the outpost—the news of the man and woman had already spread.
With a grim face, Marat watched the rider up front - a larger man on a white horse. His armor had been different than the others, his posture more refined.
Marat would know him from any other, at any distance away.
If Johannes had been with them, it was because they had been in their pursuit. Likely trailing them from the River Cities, it was only by the grace of the rushing waters that had carried them downriver that they’d not been found sooner.
They couldn’t outrun them. They’d ridden all night. Aditi was exhausted and stood with her head hung low, her body heavy on her legs.
“We stay here, lay low. Take turns keeping watch.” He said, turning away from the open valley. Val was sitting on the ground, her eyelids heavy.
“They’ll catch us, Marat.” She said, her voice raspy and exhausted. “Maybe if I just go to them, and you can take Aditi. Ride away.”
“I’ll take it personally if you truly think that is an option.” He lowered himself down next to her.
“I cannot think of how this could possibly end well for us, Marat.” She looked at him, her eyes running over his bloody arm. Her heart sank when her eyes reached his face. He looked so tired—his skin so weathered by the sun. The amber eyes that looked out at her from beneath heavy eyelids pleaded for her to stop what she was going to say.
“I love you.” She whispered instead and put her hand on his. His eyes fell to her hand and remained there for a heartbeat.
“Wherever you go, I go.” He smiled, “Even if it is into the open arms of Johannes. Although, that appeals to me much less than a pie made of pigshit.”
He lifted her chin with his other hand.
“We go forward. They have gone east. So we will go south.”
She nodded against the roughness of his calloused hand.
“I’m so tired…” She leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder.
“I know.” He closed his eyes and did not open them again, sleep overtaking him unwillingly. Val slumped against him, her body aches keeping her awake until many hours later.
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Wake up.
It was less so a voice than a feeling rising from her gut.
Wake up.
Her body twitched, and she took a deep breath in as her mouth salivated at the sickly sweet taste of fig.
It was midday.
Marat stood just beyond, surveying the land. There was not a soul around.
The horse looked like they felt, messy, with a greasy matted mane and dusty legs.
When they set out again, Marat tried to look for any landmarks that could help them identify where they were. Through the chase, they’d lost their path and now it was entirely uncertain as to where south had been. It gave them some hope that patches of trees had begun to appear throughout the fields. They became thicker as they rode on, in some faraway places it even started to look like groves.
It was only as the sun began to set after a long day that they could truly get their bearings - and by then, they’d found a well-paved gravel road that looked like it had seen a fair bit of travel. At first, Marat had been hesitant to go on it, but Aditi had already begun to stumble from exhaustion and out of pity for the horse, he led them forth. Having spent quite a while around the horse, he knew she was more likely to refuse to walk and roll over than truly run herself into the ground.
It became clear that to the east, the Deep Wood began in the distance. It seemed the steppes pressed up against it here, the tall looming trees unbothered by the arid climates.
Here and there, they saw abandoned farms. Aside from the birds chirping, no signs of life were to be found.
By noon, they came to a fork in the road - a notch post on its right - the first they had seen in a long, long time. Only one notch appeared on it.
Hope sprang up in Val, and as it did - the strange, warm feeling washed over her, again, tasting of fig. Perhaps that hope was what gave her the bravery to speak.
“I must tell you, and please listen.” She started, placing her hand on her abdomen. “I can feel it still. Since the river.”
She could not tell by the look on his face how he had reacted, but he remained quiet.
“It feels my joys. It feels my sorrow. And if you tell me this is indigestion again, I will push you off the horse.” She said.
This got a slight smile out of him.
“I know, Val.” He said, sighing.
“You do?”
“Yes.” He ran his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit. “I’ve had the presence in my dreams. I still do not trust in the goodness of this being. It came from a pagan ritual in worship of the Nothing. I cannot make sense of the River Cities, although they have been on my mind. I do not know how they could stand atop a Wound so long and simultaneously be the source of the All-Father’s god-children.”
“I do not feel the Nothing within it.” She shook her head. “I know what it feels like. In my dreams, it tugs on me like a rope. It burns and connects me to Her. It… he is a shield from her when this happens.”
“What have you seen?”
“A stone wall, no more. She fumes and rages inside four walls, chained. I hear a thousand voices screaming of her fury. I even feel it myself. But he does not let her see me.”
There was a thoughtful silence.
“Val?”
“Yes?”
“Can you… can you tell me about him?”
Her heart jumped.
“Yes. What would you like to know?”
“Can you tell me what it feels like?”
“It…” Again, at a loss for words, Val tried to explain, “It feels like the truth. Pure, reliable, and trustworthy. But in a physical sensation. And when I feel an emotion, it echoes it back through me - so I almost feel it twice.”
He nodded, and she continued.
“It makes me feel stronger, although I cannot tell you how. I just know that this… it is important. He is important.”
“Do you believe what they say? What the faith teaches?” He asked, and in his voice, there was hope. “That it is a fragment of the All-Father?”
“Yes.”
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