A March of Woe by Aaron Bunce

Author:Aaron Bunce [Bunce, Aaron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Autumn Arch Publishing
Published: 2018-03-14T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Not My Home

Dennah cast Roman another confused look, silently pushing for some clue as to what happened. Roman shrugged and mouthed “I’ll tell you when we’re alone”, and nodded his head towards the young woman walking just ahead of them, but wasn’t sure she understood. He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. In truth, he didn’t know what was happening, and didn’t know what he would tell her if he could.

Their plan to simply put one foot in front of the other had worked up to this point, but now they had to start seriously considering where they were going and why.

He glanced over to Dennah, just as her head nodded and she teetered on the saddle. His hand flinched towards Freckles’ bridle, but she caught herself first. She’d stayed awake all night, sitting a frozen, terrified vigil, guarding him while he slept, and now looked the worse for wear. Dark shadows ringed her eyes and her face was ashen. She needed to get warm and rest or she would collapse. Roman owed her that and so much more.

The young woman led them out of the trees, the curly, papery bark of the aspen and birch crunching and breaking off as the horses pushed through. The walk was all too familiar. It should have been comforting, but felt more than a little wrong.

Roman took a breath to speak, to tell the young woman that they wouldn’t be welcome here. That riding openly into town wasn’t the most prudent course. But he knew that if she didn’t already know why, she would ask. He would have to tell her that the people believed they were responsible for Frenin’s, and so many other deaths. That would only lead to more uncomfortable questions, and Roman was just as tired of lying as he was of running.

His knuckles grew white around the reins as the last, gentle hill crested before them and Bardstown rose into view. The town sat quiet and dark, snow falling in large, drifting flakes. They passed the mill, its open door left to creak and groan in the breeze.

“I’m…” Roman said, his voice failing him. He took a deep breath and tried again. “I’m not sure many people will be happy to see us.”

“Rest easy,” the young woman said, casting him a crooked smile. “You’ll find rest, warmth, and safety here. It looks like you are in need of all three.”

“Thank you, by the way,” he said hastily. “When you appeared through the trees, I was sure that thing would kill you. I’ve never seen anyone move like that before.”

The young woman nodded, but with most of her face covered he could tell little else.

“Can I ask you…what is your name? You know me, or at least my name,” Roman continued clumsily, instantly wishing he’d just stayed quiet.

“Yes, I do know your name. We met before, back in much younger thaws. You always seemed so considerate. I am disappointed you don’t remember me,” she said.

Roman sputtered for a heartbeat, but decided it best if he didn’t continue and risk offending her.

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