Page 32 of Ember and Eclipse
Staying would mean death.
Pulling a simple beige dress over herself took a matter of moments. She grabbed one of her older and darker cloaks, pinning it hurriedly around her throat and pulling up the hood. In Romul, her dark red hair was a dead giveaway. Lacing up boots took longer than she liked, but if she was going to try and escape, good footwear would be important. Lastly, she grabbed a sack and tossed clothes and items she hoped could be worth money into it. A hair pick that looked expensive, two candelabras with stones encrusted in them, and a silver bracelet that the princess had given to her. The latter she put around her wrist—she would only sell it if she had to.
She left her quarters, walking quickly and confidently as if she had a right to be there. The hour was late, and the usual hustle and bustle of the castle had turned into nothing but servants coming and going, preparing and cleaning so as to not be seen during the day. At the last minute, she turned and walked toward the center of the castle and then south. She could more easily get out through the gardens without being seen. There would be roving guards, but if she stayed in the high hedges, she should be able to go undetected in her dark cloak.
The moon was but a crescent in the sky, casting the gardens into something more fitting of a nightmare. The limbs of trees and the towering hedges left gnarled, reaching shadows. Taking a deep breath, she moved toward it. When no one called out for her to stop, she moved faster, her hand trailing against the hedges to guide her. The gardens ended with an option to go left, which would wind and lead back to a farther part of the palace, or right, which would lead her to the courtyard and the stables. She turned right to follow the more open, stone-inlaid path, cursing the crunching sound the gravel made beneath her feet.
The summer festivities had ended the night before, most of the carriages already packed and gone. She didn’t know what her plan was exactly. Steal a horse? She had never ridden alone, and the couple of times she had ridden one had been long ago.
As she approached the stables, she heard voices. “Come on, lad, that’s what I’m paying you for.”
“It’ll take me a while to get both horses ready and attached, and it’s late,” the youth whined sleepily. A smack of a sound then, “Ow! Fine, but I want double the coin.”
“Just get my horses. I want to get out of this gods’ forsaken territory. Barely sold enough to make it worthwhile, and that was with taking the cheaper option,” the man muttered. She peered into the stable to mark him. He was short and stout, balding but committed to keeping the few patches of his wispy hair he had left. There were three other men, all severe looking, with weapons and dressed for riding.
Mercenaries.
That meant they were going through Heigar’s Pass. Closer to Witch Country. The boy was already set to his task, so Rel went back out of the stables and around until she stood before the impatient merchant. “Sir,” she said, her voice raspy. She cleared her throat and tried again but still kept her voice low. “I can offer payment if you let me ride in the back of your cart through Heigar’s Pass.”
“Get away, beggar,” he waved his hand in dismissal but then looked at her and the sack she was holding up. He attempted to snatch it from her hands, but she pulled it out of reach.
“All I ask is you don’t mention I’m with you and for food and water.”
“You a criminal?”
“No.”Yes.She had just killed the future Imperator of Romul.
“That’s what a criminal would say,” one of the mercenaries said, then laughed heartily at his own joke.
She shrugged. “You won’t know I’m there.” Pulling one of the candelabras out, the merchant’s eyes immediately focused on it.
He looked from it to her and then nodded. “Fine, but you better not get me in trouble. It wouldn’t be the first time a woman did. Stole everything from me the last one did,” he grumbled.
“Which cart is yours?”
The man gestured at a large carriage that transformed into a shop cart. The stable hand was leading the second horse to it. She waited until both horses were attached, staying out of sight of the boy before opening the door. The inside was slightly cramped, filled with crates of herbs and other wares. The lavender overpowered every other scent, though. With the low light, she could just make out a tarp in the very back. Climbing in, she shut herself inside and waited. Either she would be caught, or she would be free.
A fist pounded on the back door sometime later, startling her so much that she jerked involuntarily. “You in there?” the merchant asked.
“Yes,” she said hoarsely.
“We’re on our way. Hope you’re comfortable because I’m not going to stop until I’m well out of this shit-filled territory.” The last part was faded as he moved around the carriage and mounted.
With a lurching movement, they were off.
She spent almost an entire moon in that carriage, surrounded by the strong scent of lavender. Most of the time, she was lost in a dream-like haze from the herb itself and from the lack of food and water. But what she dreamed of was a lush and green-jeweled world, laughter that came easily, and a place to call home.
She dreamed offreedom.
Chapter XIX
Thejostlingofthecarriage became so intense that she opened her eyes. Except, she wasn’t in the merchant’s carriage, running away from Romul. She was back in the bed of North Star, the inn in Gavenport. Sitting up slowly, she found the hunter staring at her, his gaze an intense assessment of her person. He was sitting in the chair by the window, the object seeming like a toy beneath his considerable size.
“I found you,” he drawled, “on the floor. Unresponsive for the most part.”
“I—” Her voice cracked and broke. She cleared her throat and tried again. “It happens sometimes.” She immediately regretted the confession. It would have been easy to blame it on the fever. However, she noticed the last of its grasp on her had broken while she was passed out.
He arched a brow. “You just pass out? No explanation or reason?”
