Page 11 of The Oracle's Journey

I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to push the stress from my mind. On the inhale, I found the scent of her hair and skin lingered on my hand. I savored it for a moment before guilt set in. I didn’t deserve to enjoy that, and it was probably grossly inappropriate from her perspective. She hadn’t exactly wanted to be carried around like a sack, or anything that had happened in the woods while we’d been alone.

Listening to the women settle in for sleep, I let go of those thoughts and looked up at the starry summer sky through the treetops. The maids bickered about asking for the opportunity to clean up in the morning; the older arguing that it would leave them vulnerable with all the strange men and elves about. Then their bickering moved on to how to share the now crooked bench. Ozanna piped up and threatened to call Handsy-Elf to put the pair in trunks if they continued with their bullshit. Neither scolded her for her foul language.

Ozanna

I fell into a restless doze. Having my arms tied behind my back for so long made my elbows and shoulders ache fiercely. The rest of my muscles were cold and knotted after such a physically demanding day and night. I’d also never mastered the art of sleeping sitting up, which was normally an excellent trait for any kind of guard. Combined it meant any rest I got would be inadequate.

When I closed my eyes to doze, Emmelina had been asleep, head on my lap. But when I opened them again, I saw her foot disappear through the tiny crack between shutters. I blinked a few times. Was I dreaming? There was no way a three-dimensional object the size of a person would fit through a crack that small. It barely allowed enough light to see inside the carriage. Eve and Judith were sleeping upright across from me, undisturbed. I stood and turned around, looking for any place the young woman could have hidden herself. But she was gone. Or was I losing my mind?

I could think of only one thing to do.

I threw myself against the door.

It flew off its frame, knocking over an unlucky elf on the other side. I wasn’t sure who was more surprised, me or him. The maids started screaming, jarred from their sleep by the sound of cracking wood. I leapt down the step and started sniffing the air. Emmelina’s scent was still strong, so she hadn’t gone too far. I ran past two of the bandits, their backs to me, and eventually had to slow my pace once outside the firelight. My bare feet felt every rock, stick, and bramble as I tried to follow Emmelina’s trail.

“Emmelina!” I shouted into the darkness. Then I stopped, cursed at my bloody feet and the wan moonlight, and that damned Lhoris who once again slid his arm around my waist, scooped me up and carried me back to camp. “Let me go, I need to find her!”

“Stop your thrashing, woman,” Lhoris grumbled, then he swore and handed me off to a pale skinned elf that I’d initially mistaken for a man. I changed my mental count to 13 elves and 6 men. Lhoris gave the pale elf some orders in their language before he, and the other dark elves, disappeared into the tree line.

Lhoris

The princess was either extremely fast or had more of a head start than I thought. It took us a few minutes to realize she’d gone up into the trees and probably thirty more to find her among them. She’d back tracked and crossed over her scent trail more than once. When we finally surrounded her, her eyes glowed back at us, like an owl’s or some other night creature. Like ours did. The skirt of her bright red dress was torn to tunic length, her willowy legs bare and dirty. She cocked her head, the motion unsettling, and looked at me. “Where’s Ozanna? She was supposed to come join me.”

“Lady, she is still at camp,” I explained from my bough. “Come, we will take you back to her.” I extended a hand toward her in invitation.

She bounded toward me, almost gliding through the air, from her branch to mine, which was damned odd for a human. There were feathers, leaves, and twigs stuck in her wavy hair, as if she’d broken a bird’s nest over her head.

“She was supposed to follow me,” Emmelina said, brows drawn together in confusion.

I wondered how she had expected the bound, barefoot, mercenary to follow her here. I realized, in that moment, the small, wild looking woman didn’t have a firm grasp on reality. I wasn’t frightened, though the glimpse of genuine madness made the hair stand up on the back of my neck.

I delivered the princess back to her keepers. They clucked their tongues and scolded her over her very un-regal appearance before ushering her back into the relative safety of the carriage. But I was already moving to the other side of camp where I’d heard a commotion.

There I found a handful of the crew jeering at the prone mercenary. Ozanna was face down on the ground, her clothes torn, and face encrusted with dirt and blood from a cut on her forehead, an eye apparently stuck shut. One grubby man sat on her lower back, leering down at her covered ass. Ozanna fought to get her knees under her to throw him off. As soon as she made progress, one of the others would move to pull her now bound ankles or pinch her exposed legs or prod her bloodied feet with a stick. One of the elves went for his blade …

Slicing through their unsettling merrymaking, I bellowed, “Stop. This. Now!”

“She’s not hurt bad, boss,” said the man as he dismounted the mercenary. “Maybe she’ll think twice about running next time.”

One of the dark elves, Broncid, said, “This one isn’t worth keeping, Lhoris. Too much work. We should just kill her.” He still had his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Lobikno met my eyes from across the gathering: a warning.

I waved Broncid off and said, “No, I’ll manage her.”

Broncid pressed his scarred lips together and glowered. “Don’t let your prick do the thinking, captain.” He wielded the title as an insult. We all knew it was a farce on Dulanzo’s part. “The next time she causes such a racket, we will put her down.”

Well, we’d always been one bad job away from mutiny.

“She’s my problem,” I warned. “It’s not your place to make that decision.” I met his eyes and glared, challenging him to try something.

Broncid flinched and his sword arm flexed, preparing to draw. He didn’t get that far.

I leapt into him, halting his sword draw with one hand, slamming the hilt back against the sheath. His nose crunched under the crushing elbow strike that followed. Broncid fell on his ass, blood flowing over his lips and shirt. I sneered and kicked him in the chin, knocking him out completely.

I didn’t need to look at Lobikno to know I’d made a mistake in pulling the power from that kick. It wasn’t our people’s way to allow such challengers to live. The others would only see this mercy as weakness, but there was no honor in killing a downed opponent. I couldn’t stomach it.

There could be no hesitation next time, though.

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