The Kiran Thall pressed his wound and hobbled after her, catching her arm as she tried to escape. She kicked his ankle up from under him and swung the dagger around, cutting his chin. Her tunic ripped at the shoulder as he fell, but she jerked her arm free and ran as the other three soldiers joined the first.
The fog swallowed her. She heard them swearing and calling after her, but she didn’t stop. Reaching the gate, she pulled herself up and over the ironwork and jumped onto the cobblestones below. She kept running as fast as she could. A needle of pain in her side made her slow, but still she jogged until she could no longer hear their voices. She hid in a side alley and waited. Chattering with cold, she chaffed her bruised arm and bit her lip to keep back the tears. She made it. She made it. Her heart felt like it was a bird wriggling to escape her chest.
She breathed more slowly. Pulling the cloak tighter, she raised the hood to cover her hair. Where were the Kiran Thall? How close behind? Her ears strained for sounds of pursuit, but she heard nothing. She stood and started walking away. The soft brushing of the cloak against her hair was the only sound as she walked towards the main street where she could find the Wee Kirke again. The streets were nearly barren, but there were a few who had been drinking who sang and staggered down the way. Turning down a major street, she walked north until she recognized the weaponsmith shop. From there, she hurried around it to the alley it shared with the inn. The noises of the inn were still loud and boisterous. Letting down the cowl, she stepped up on the small stone ledge on the wall and pulled herself up on the roof. Carefully, she went to the window. It creaked softly. She paused, listening.
All was silent.
Planting her palms on the window sill, Ticastasy jumped up and sat on the edge. Sliding her legs inside the room, she dropped to the floor. Her hands trembled as she lit the lamp and trimmed it.
There was an old man in black robes standing against the door, regarding her with interest. She froze.
“There is someone waiting to see you, my dear,” he said. The window swung shut by itself and the latch fastened.
XXIX
Allavin Devers dropped to a crouch and touched the thin outline of a bootprint in the soft hillside dirt. He traced two of his fingers along the earth and then pointed to a bent clump of stettleweed and another bootprint. He smiled up at Flent. “Thealos is banned good at stepwalking. I almost didn’t see these.”
“What about Justin?” Flent asked, folding his arms. He looked off into the mist and scrunched up his shoulders.
“His trail is hard to follow too, but he’s still with Thealos.” Allavin gazed into the mist. “The tracks are about two hours old. We’ve made good time catching up.”
Flent dropped down on his knee and studied the print. “No Kiran Thall?”
“No Kiran Thall.”
“That’s good.” He wiped his nose.
Allavin kept low to the earth and followed the set of prints he had re-discovered. Kiran Thall had crisscrossed the trail several times since the two Shae had left the Shadows Wood, but they didn’t appear to have picked it up. Allavin was careful and had to keep reminding Flent to step on hard clumps of moor grass rather than the soft mud of the slopes. The trail led them towards the river, curling around the western face of the hill where Landmoor sat. With all the mist that morning, their movements were hidden.
“Doesn’t make any sense,” Allavin mused, scratching the back of his neck. “Looks like they’re wandering around the base rather than trying to find the Iron Point Road.”
Flent stared up at the thinning mists. “Maybe they’re lost.”
“It’s possible. The mist was thicker when they were here, and they don’t know the valley that well. Hmmm. Look over there, now that’s...those are horse tracks. Hate!”
Allavin and Flent hurried over to the tromping mess of hoofprints and smashed grass. “At least a dozen riders. Maybe more, it’s pretty messy. Sons of fire, they caught the trail right here.”
Flent withdrew his heavy axe and patted it against his palm. “Can you tell what happened?”
“Give me a moment,” Allavin replied, bending near the earth and studying the web of tracks. He was careful to skirt around the mess of churned mud and grasses and waved Flent over to join him. “No, they just found the trail. Lucky fools, just stumbled onto it. Ban!” Allavin fumed. He and Flent were still two hours behind the two Shae, and the Kiran Thall tracks were fresher than that. They were still too far from the city’s northern gatehouse. He couldn’t understand why they weren’t looking for the road.
“Come on,” Allavin said, preparing his long bow. He bent forward, not bothering to conceal his own tracks, and followed the trail of tracks around the side of the hill.