Part 1 (2/2)
Miranda checked the girl's pack and then her own to ensure they were still closed and cinched tight. She looked down the dark road before them.
”This will take us through Colnora and right into Aquesta,” the old wizard explained.
”How long will it take to get there?” Mercy asked.
”Several days-a week, perhaps. Longer if the weather stays bad.”
Miranda saw the disappointment in Mercy's eyes. ”Don't worry, once we are farther away, we will stop, rest, and eat. I'll make something hot and then we'll sleep for a bit. But for now, we have to keep going. Now that we are on the road, it will be easier.”
Miranda took the little girl's hand and they set off again. She was pleased to discover that what she had told the child turned out to be true. Trenches left by wagons made for easy going, even more so due to the downhill slope. They kept a brisk pace, and soon the forest rose to blot out the fiery glow behind them. The world became dark and quiet, with only the sound of the cold wind to keep them company.
Miranda glanced at the old professor as he trudged along, holding his cloak tight to his neck. The skin of his face was red and blotchy, and he labored to breathe. ”Are you sure you are all right?”
Arcadius did not respond at first. He drew near, forced a smile, and whispered softly in Miranda's ear, ”I fear you may need to finish this journey without me.”
”What?” Miranda said too loudly, and glanced down at the little girl. Mercy did not look up. ”We'll stop soon. We'll rest and take our time tomorrow. We've gone a good distance today. Here, let me take your satchel.” She reached out.
”No. I'll hang on to it. It's very fragile, as you know-and dangerous. If anyone dies carrying it, I want it to be me. As for resting, I don't think it will make a difference. I'm not strong enough for this sort of travel. We both know that.”
”You can't give up.”
”I'm not. I'm handing off the charge to you. You'll manage.”
”But I don't know what to do. You've never told me the plan.”
Arcadius chuckled. ”That's because it changes frequently. I had hoped the regents would have accepted Mercy as Modina's heir, but they refused.”
”So now what?”
”Modina is on the throne now, so we have a second chance. The best you can do is get to Aquesta and seek an audience with her.”
”But I don't know how-”
”You'll figure it out. Introduce Mercy to the empress. That will be a start in the right direction. Soon you will be the only one who knows the truth. I hate placing this burden on you, but I have no choice.”
Miranda shook her head. ”No, it was my mother who placed the burden on me. Not you.”
”A deathbed confession is a weighty thing.” The old man nodded. ”But doing so allowed her to die in peace.”
”Do you think so? Or is her spirit still lingering? Sometimes I feel as if she is watching-haunting me. I'm paying the price for her weakness, her cowardice.”
”Your mother was young, poor, and ignorant. She witnessed the death of dozens of men, the butchery of a mother and child, and narrowly escaped. She lived in constant fear that someday, someone would discover there were twins and she rescued one of them.”
”But,” Miranda said bitterly, ”what she did was wrong and unconscionable. And the worst part is she couldn't let the sin die with her. She had to tell me. Make it my responsibility to correct her mistakes. She should-”
Mercy came to an abrupt halt, tugging on Miranda's arm.
”Honey, we need to...” She stopped upon seeing the girl's face. The faint light of an early dawn revealed fear as Mercy stared ahead to where the road dipped toward a large stone bridge.
”There's a light up ahead,” Arcadius said.
”Is it...?” Miranda asked.
The old teacher shook his head. ”It's a campfire-several, it looks like. More refugees, I suspect. We can join with them and the going will be easier. If I'm not mistaken, they are camped on the far bank of the Galewyr. I had no idea we'd come so far. No wonder I'm puffing.”
”There now,” Miranda said to the girl as they once more started forward. ”See? Our troubles are already over. Maybe they will even have a wagon that an old man can ride in.”
Arcadius gave her a smirk but allowed himself a smile. ”Things may be looking up at that.”
”We'll be-”
The girl squeezed Miranda's hand and stopped once more. Up the road, figures on horseback trotted toward them. The animals snorted white fog as their hooves drove through the iced tracks. The riders sat enveloped in dark cloaks. With hoods drawn up and scarves wrapped, it was difficult to determine much, but one thing was certain-they were just men. Miranda counted three. They came from the south but not from the direction of the campfires. These were not refugees.
”Who do you think?” Miranda asked. ”Highwaymen?”
The professor shook his head.
”What do we do?”
”Hopefully nothing. With luck they are just good men coming to our aid. If not...” He patted his satchel grimly. ”Get to those campfires and ask for shelter and protection. Then see to it that Mercy reaches Aquesta. Avoid the regents and try to tell the empress Mercy's story. Tell her the truth.”
”But what if-”
The horses approached and slowed.
”What do we have here?” one rider asked.
Miranda could not tell who spoke, but guessed it was the foremost. He studied them while they stood still, listening to the deep throaty pant of the horses.
”Isn't this convenient?” he said, and dismounted. ”Of all the people in the world-I was just coming to see you, old man.”
The leader was tall and held his side gingerly, moving stiffly. His piercing eyes glared out from under his hood, his nose and mouth shrouded by a crimson scarf.
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