Chapter 6
Flight, Freedom, Fright
As the night grew deep, and the sounds of the keep stilled, Sarah rose to her feet, soundlessly slipping towards the door. She leaned her ear into the door, murmuring an ancient incantation to the wood.
“Speak for me, noble tree.” She stroked the rough grain, coaxing the very wood to articulate, to tell her what she needed to know. She pressed her cheek into the roughness, sighing. “Through the window, then,” she concluded, patting the wood softly in thanks.
Quietly, she returned to where Bren slept peacefully, secure, knowing he was no longer alone. She passed her wand into her hand. “Shadowed, shaded, dark in night, hide us now, until the light.” She cast the spell with intricate motions. It settled over both of them, coloring them opaque, like a mere shadow of their true selves. She knelt behind the boy, whispering in his ear to wake him.
“Bren, lad, time for us to leave.” She roused him with a gentle shake. “Do not look back at me. I cast a spell. We are only shadows for a brief time. I am going to help you through the window. You will jump to the ground and press up against the wall, hiding until I jump as well. Do you understand?”
“Yes, m’Lady,” he whispered back, stiffly staring straight ahead.
“Dress quickly, warmly. Your clothes will blend with the spell,” she instructed. When he was ready, she murmured once more, “To the window, then.” She nudged him. “Make no sounds!” she exhorted as she lifted him to the frame. He pulled himself up then shimmied over, dropping lightly to the ground outside. Sarah leapt for the frame and followed suit. When she dropped to the ground outside, she quickly scanned the compound, searching for guards or other members of the Aedui.
Seeing no one, she reached for Bren’s hand to guide him towards the stables, hugging the protection of the wall as long as they could. Knowing they had to cross the open courtyard, Sarah studied the area with great care, being sure to check windows and corners. When she felt safest, she motioned for Bren to run by pressing on his shoulder. The lad took off, floating over the ground a mere gray shadow of himself. She overtook him easily, pulling him forward faster than she should have. Bren stumbled. Sarah lifted him to his feet and they pressed hard against the rough stone wall of the stable, breathing heavily from the exertion. They rested but a brief moment before Sarah led them through the shadows towards the doors. Once inside, she called out in a soft voice, “Cara?”
The elegant head of her dapple gray appeared over a stall door, expectant and curious. Sarah and Bren moved quietly through the aisle, her eyes constantly searching in the dark, looking for her tack. A noise outside startled her, and the strange trio froze in place: Bren frightened, Sarah listening, Cara alert, his pointed ears nearly touching. Cara slowly lowered his head to nudge his mistress. Sarah, trusting his better hearing, reached for the leather bridle hanging on the peg next to his stall. Eagerly, he opened his mouth accepting the cool bit. Deftly, she buckled the supple leather at his cheek. A dark bay, no white markings at all, poked its head over the stall door next to Cara, curious yet quiet, not at all alarmed by the strangers or their odd appearance.
“Bren, we’ll bridle that bay,” Sarah whispered her request. Bren stroked the horse’s head as he waited for Sarah to find the saddles. She tapped his shoulder to get him to look at the racks of saddles as she unlatched Cara’s door. Bren grabbed one that looked comfortable and let himself into the stall with the bay to saddle up. He had to stand on tiptoe to slide the saddle into place. The mare obliged him by lowering her head to his level to accept the bridle. Sarah pointed towards the back paddock doors that were open to let in fresh air. Bren led his new mount in that direction with Sarah and Cara right behind them.
He paused, unsure what to do next. Sarah draped the reins over her arm and locked her fingers together to give the boy a leg up on the tall horse. He stepped into her hands and she lifted him high enough to swing his other leg over the mare’s back. She stroked the arched neck of the animal, murmuring to it as Bren settled in the saddle, finding his stirrups then picking up the reins.
“Her name is Luath. Can you jump that low fence at the far end?” Sarah asked, pointing towards her planned escape route.
“Yes, I think so,” Bren offered, trying to judge how high the wall was in the darkness. “How do you know her name?” he wondered.
“She told me, of course,” Sarah answered.
“Truly?” Bren was impressed.
Sarah smiled at him even though he could not see her. “There is much magic in the world, young Bren. Perhaps you will try to learn?”
“Yes, Lady Sarah. Will you teach me?”
“Certainly! If your father allows,” she replied softly. “Now, we must escape.”
“I agree!” he chirped.
“Just lean forward and hold on to her mane,” Sarah coached. “Luath will take good care of you. She said she would,” the witch reassured him. “She is fast and will keep up with my Cara, understand?”
“Yes, m’Lady,” Bren nodded solemnly.
Sarah turned, stepped to Cara’s side and grasped his neck with both hands. With a smooth fluid motion, she lifted herself up, nearly flying onto his back. Without looking, she slipped her feet into the stirrups and Cara exploded into a gallop, heading straight for the fence. Luath was hot on his heels, her much smaller rider leaning low over her neck, both of his hands tightly wound in her black mane. The gray shadow that was Cara gathered his hind legs underneath his body and launched himself into the air, soaring without wings over the stones. Dark Luath mimicked his motions, carrying Bren safely to the other side where both of them disappeared into the protection of the trees. The two horses moved in the same direction, as if sharing one mind. Sarah chanced a look back, wand drawn, apprehensive. She cast a quick bewilderment spell behind her, designed to confuse any tracking dogs or men. Finished, she turned forward and Cara doubled his speed, Luath matching him, for stride.
As the sun peeked over the far away mountains, Sarah eased their gait to a pacing trot, her eyes ever searching, ever alert, waiting for the attack she was sure was waiting for her.
Slowing, Cara tossed his head to express his displeasure. The mare was tiring. He wanted her to rest and recover. Sarah stroked his neck apologetically. “Sorry, old friend, my haste is warranted though. We must put great distance between us and the Aedui before sundown.” Cara rolled his head towards their partners. The lad was barely sitting up and Luath’s sides were heaving.
“I said I was sorry!” Sarah apologized once more. “Bren? Do you need to rest?” She studied the boy with worry creasing lines in her forehead.
“No, we must keep moving,” he protested weakly.
“We have made good time, young one. We can rest for a few moments,” she observed, asking Cara to stop.
He pressed on, towards a small stream. There, the stallion halted, lowering his head to drink. Luath did so as well. Bren slipped from the mare’s back to kneel upstream and drink as well. Sarah kept a close eye on him, concerned when he simply lay down on the ground, letting his eyes fall shut. She left him to drift off as she too drank deeply. Concerned, she led Luath into the stream, cupping water with her hands and pouring it over her neck to help cool her. The bay mare lowered her head to help. Sarah poured water over the veins inside Luath’s legs, cooling her blood. Cara waded into a small pool and stood belly deep to cool himself. He was sweating but not breathing harshly. The many speed trips to heal someone that his mistress required of him in the past showed in his endurance and musculature. A sound in the brush startled him. He threw his head up, intently listening for further sounds. Sarah observed him closely, mirroring his actions.
“Yes, Cara, I hear. We must move,” she agreed. Quickly, she knotted Luath’s reins to a ring on the front of the saddle. Turning, she scooped up the sleeping Bren and hoisted him atop Cara. She clambered up behind the sleeping boy, settling and pulling him in close with one arm. “We shall let him and the mare rest for a while, yes?” she asked of her horse. He agreed by moving off once more at a ground eating trot with Luath following closely behind him.
~*~
“ULRICH!” Tarin bellowed in panic as he skittered through the door to Ulrich’s chambers. “The witch and the boy are gone!”
“WHAT?” bellowed the Chieftain. He sprinted from his bed, reaching for his boots as he moved. “When? Loose the dogs to track them!” He threw his boots on the ground and returned to find pants, clearly flustered, fumbling to dress.
“Saddling horses as we speak, sir,” Tarin answered dryly. He rolled his eyes as Ulrich struggled to dress. Soon enough, Ulrich was ready, storming out the door towards the stables, Tarin hot on his heels.
“Which way do you think they went?” he demanded of his master.
“I truly do not know, Lord Ulrich. We found no unusual tracks. The gates were not opened. My only guess is that they went over the paddock fence into the forest.” The keeper of the hounds interrupted him, dragging the lot of grey wolfhounds to keep them from jumping all over Ulrich. A stable hand sped forward, leading horses.
“Where is my mare?” Ulrich demanded.
“Seems they took her,” Tarin answered wearily.
“Great goddesses! My own mount?” he bellowed indignantly. A young servant boy came towards them at a dead run, carrying two pillows, from the bed Sarah and Bren had shared. Dutifully, he handed them to Tarin then backed quickly away. Tarin handed them to the hounds keep for the baying dogs to sniff. They snuffled it eagerly, tugging at their constraining leashes, wanting to be away. Their keeper let them loose and they leapt as one towards the stable, then veered towards the gate.
“The Hells!” Tarin exclaimed as mounted his horse to follow them. “How could they have gone through the gate completely unnoticed?”
“She is a witch, Tarin,” Ulrich growled, spurring his replacement horse past him to follow the hounds which were baying and tearing ahead, hot on the scent.
“Still,” Tarin murmured warily. “Through the main gate?” He urged his horse to match Ulrich’s, concerned.
A few miles from the compound, the hounds stopped short, milling about in confusion, unable to pick up the scent any further.
“Hounds Keep? What is the matter?” Ulrich asked in frustration.
“They have lost the scent, m’Lord,” he replied, frightened.
“What?” Ulrich shouted. “How can they lose the scent just like that, on the main road?”
“M’Lord,” interjected Tarin. “Perhaps it was a false scent laid down by the witch to distract us?”
Ulrich glowered at him, but considering his words. “Which path do you think she would choose, Master?”
“If I were her, I would choose to make straight for Alaric of the Iompruír. He is closer than either her keep or the boy’s clan.” Tarin offered his opinion quietly, his eyes focused on the distance as if trying to see her fleeing form.
“I value your counsel highly, Master. Let us hope you are not wrong,” Ulrich threatened him as he turned his horse west, heading for the lands protected by the Iompruír.
Miles ahead of the search party, Sarah held her sleeping burden with one hand while steadying herself with the other. The pretty bay mare moved easily next to them. Cara led them across country, straight as the crows would fly, not taking the well-worn roads. He paused again mid-stream to refresh himself. Luath did the same. Bren woke, confused.
“Father?” he called out groggily.
“Sorry, dear Bren, ‘tis only I, Sarah,” she responded gently.
“Oh, yes,” he stammered. “I remember.”
“Are you able to ride now, Bren?” she asked.
“Yes, I am sorry for being so weak.” He snuffled, rubbing his eyes to wake himself more fully
“No worries, lad. These have been exhausting days for you, no doubt!” Sarah tried to reassure him. “I actually think we are close enough to send a message,” she pondered aloud.
Bren shimmied onto Luath’s steady back and watched, wide-eyed as Sara called out, using her wand to direct her voice towards where she hoped her guards would be.
“How long have we been riding?” Bren wondered, looking around at his surroundings. “It seems to be close to nightfall.”
“Oh dear child, it is actually close to daybreak. We rode all night,” Sara clarified gently.
Bren’s eyes grew wide in amazement. “Are you not tired, Lady Sarah?” he asked.
“Yes, child, I am. I will sleep when you are safe,” she replied as she ruffled his hair affectionately.
Just over the next hill, two of her guard heard her whispering plea in the wind, recognized Sarah’s voice, and rode to intercept. They burst over the hilltop, spying her resting the horses in the stream.
“Sarah!” one called out, jubilant at finding her.
“Barra! Here!” she answered, waving. “Blessed be the guides who brought you to me!” she rejoiced at the sight of her own kinsman.”
“We did not want to follow too closely and alarm the kidnappers. We were afraid they would hurt you,” Barra explained. “Iccios is on his way to intercept and intervene.”
“It is all fine now!” Sarah exclaimed. “This is Bren. Take the boy to our keep. Ennis, you will ride with me to lead the Aedui away.” She spoke with confidence and the practiced authority of the High Priestess. “We will head for Alaric’s. Since it is closer, I believe they will follow me there.”
“Good plan, m’Lady,” Barra agreed. “Bren, I am called Barra, and we will ride hard. Are you ready?”
“Yes sir,” chirped the youngster, eager to be out of the woods.
“Barra will take great care of you, Bren. I shall see you as soon as I can!” Sarah reassured him. Ennis urged his horse into the stream as Luath carried Bren out onto the opposite bank.
“Protect her well, brother,” Barra called to Ennis.
“Be safe, brother,” Ennis answered back, waiting for Sarah and Cara to turn and speed away. He glanced back to see Barra and Bren heading back up the hill, racing for home. “I am truly sorry for being caught off guard like we were. Shameful,” he muttered ruefully to Sarah.
“We were ambushed, not caught off guard. If I hadn’t gone with them, I’m certain they would have killed you,” Sarah reassured him.
“Better to die with honor,” mumbled Ennis.
“No, better to live with honor,” Sarah corrected him. He shook his head at her back but did not argue further. They rode easily for awhile, until hearing the clash of metal against metal – the violent sounds of a battle rising from a valley just ahead of them.
Alarmed, Sarah reined back, Cara shaking his head angrily at her interruption, throwing his weight forward, anxious to enter the fray, dancing against her restraints.
“Ennis?” she called out softly, motioning to towards the location of the sounds with a tilt of her head.
“M’Lady, I think perhaps we should proceed with caution,” he warned her. He nudged his horse forward to take the lead. As they neared the top of a small hill, Ennis slipped off his horse and stealthily crawled to the top to peer into the valley. He dropped to his belly motioning for Sarah to get down low as well. She dropped lightly to the ground next to him, gasping at the melee in the valley below them.
