Pathfinder's Way (52 page)

“Except this one is real.” Witt wasn’t lying
or exaggerating. His face had the sort of look one got when they
were relating an experience that had left a mark on the soul.

Shea’d had her suspicions about him, but his
expression as he explained the mist confirmed it. He had
encountered a true mist and lived to tell about it. Such men were
rare. As he’d said, when a true mist fell, few people found their
way back to the real world. He’d evidently been one of them.

It explained why he’d been less combative
than the rest of the adults in Birdon Leaf. He actually understood
the true purpose behind the tithes the Highlanders paid the guild.
Only a pathfinder stood a good chance of finding their way. It was
why they held such a unique position in a land as fractured as the
Highlands.

“If what you say is true,” Caden said, “how
does anybody in the Highlands travel?”

“Most are unwilling to chance the routes. In
addition to the mists, the beasts are thicker up there and more
aggressive. They’re a people ruled by fear. Luckily for them, there
is a small, a very small, segment of the population that is able to
find their way no matter how thick the mist gets. Isn’t that right,
Shea?”

A muscle in Shea’s jaw twitched.

“It’s why the pathfinders are such a powerful
influence,” Witt continued, holding Shea’s gaze. “Not many will
risk upsetting the guild if it means they could be cut off from the
rest of the lands. Anger the guild and they’ll forget your village
exists. For a while. By the time they circle back around, the
forgotten village is usually a fraction of what it was before, if
it still exists.”

“They sound like they could be a powerful
ally,” Fallon stated.

Shea looked sharply at the back of his
head.

Witt shrugged. “It’s unlikely they’d agree.
They’re not good at cooperating with outsiders.”

“We find their headquarters, and they’ll have
no choice.” Fallon’s voice was steely as he made this
observation.

“That’s the sticking point, isn’t it? You’d
have to find it first.”

“Capture one of the villages and force them
to tell us,” Caden said.

Shea begged silently for Witt to stop
talking. This was information they shouldn’t have.

“They won’t know it.”

Any hope Shea had that he’d be willing to
help her escape disappeared. Just like that. Helping the Trateri
survive in the Lowlands and not sabotaging them every moment of the
day was understandable. Neither one of them was a native and had no
real loyalty to the people below the cliffs. Revealing Highland
secrets. Revealing guild secrets. There was no coming back from
that.

Worse, he was betraying Shea. She’d counted
him as a sort of friend once. She even looked for him on the rare
occasions she was in camp in the hopes that she might be able to
help him escape.

His fingers tapped idly against the table.
After that last revelation, he very determinedly avoided looking in
her direction.

“Who does?” Caden asked.

Witt didn’t answer. His finger tapped
faster.

Shea’s chest rose on a shaky breath as her
gaze darted from one end of the tent to the other. If she thought
she was in trouble before, she’d been wrong. Very wrong

“The pathfinders,” Fallon said, his voice as
loud as a shout to Shea’s ears.

Caden looked up at Shea. Her eyes were fixed
on a point behind them, but sensing his gaze, she straightened her
shoulders and stood taller. There would be threats. Probably
pain.

“I do not envy you,” Caden told Fallon.

Shea didn’t hear Fallon’s response, but
whatever it was caused Caden to smile and rise. He clapped Witt on
the back.

“Let’s go. I have other tasks for you
today.”

Witt rose, giving Fallon a sharp nod and
followed Caden towards the exit.

Shea darted after them reaching out to grab
Witt’s arm. She deserved an explanation. She didn’t understand.
Why? Why had he gone to the other side?

“Shea.” Fallon’s voice rang loudly in the
small space. Shea came to a stop while the other two gave her small
looks, Witt’s slightly apologetic, Caden’s amused. The amount of
force Fallon put behind the unspoken command kept her in place even
as her mind urged her to follow Witt and demand answers.

She turned back to Fallon, forcing herself to
ask politely, “Is there something you needed, Warlord?”

His eyes burned coldly into hers. “I have not
given you permission to leave.”

Shea took a deep breath. Composure came
slowly and was paper thin when she asked with as much deference as
she could muster, “May I be dismissed?”

He advanced on her until he was just inches
away, invading her space. Shea kept her eyes on a stray thread on
the collar of his shirt. The anger and hurt that had been growing
during their conversation was written on her face.

“Look at me,” he said in a low deadly
voice.

Inch by inch her eyes lifted until they
trained on his forehead. His face gave no quarter and held none of
the lover she’d seen last night.

“Since this is a new position with new
duties, I have tried to be lenient. That may have been a mistake,”
he began. Shea barely managed to conceal her flinch at the ice in
his voice. “For future reference, my personal guards do not ask to
be dismissed. They leave when I tell them to. They also do not
accost my guests in my own chambers. If this happens again, I will
have you stripped to your skin, tied to a post and whipped bloody.
You are not my Tolroi. You chose to throw that offer back in my
face. You’ve chosen to be a guard, and you will act with all the
décor of one. If you fail, you will be disciplined just as I would
any of my men. I am the Warlord, and you will treat me with all the
respect that position deserves. Is that clear?”

“Very.” Shea’s hands were shaking with the
strength of her emotions.

“Now, you are dismissed. Inform the captain
of the guards that I intend to ride out in an hour, and I want ten
of my guard and one squad from Earth Clan’s army and another squad
from Horse Clan’s to march with us.”

“Understood.”

Shea turned to leave.

“In case it’s not clear in that thick head of
yours already, you will be joining me. I wouldn’t want to leave
without my personal scout.”

Shea’s eyes closed. She’d expected as much
but had hoped he’d leave her behind.

She nodded once and left.

Outside, she waited until she was out of
sight of the men guarding his quarters before allowing herself to
fall apart. Her body trembled, and she had the urge to curl up in a
protective ball.

They were planning to invade the Highlands,
and they needed her to do it. How long before Fallon tired of
seduction and chose torture instead? Furthermore, Shea was about
four months overdue to check in with the guild. Were they aware she
was missing? Were they even now sending out a party to discover
what had happened to her?

Pathfinders were scarce since most prospects
died during the final test. When one disappeared, the elders
usually tried to discover what happened, whether it was because of
the wilds or more suspicious circumstances.

Witt had been right when he said the elder’s
had been known to abandon settlements to the wilds. However, the
reasons behind such an act were usually more serious than a simple
political disagreement. It usually involved the death of a
pathfinder at the hands of villagers.

Not everybody was content to give the guild
tithes for its continued help. Sometimes they took that emotion out
on those responsible for acting as a link to the outside world.

The unspoken threat of abandonment usually
worked, and pathfinders were left un-accosted, even as they
remained outsiders in the settlements they were sent to serve.

Shea could only hope Birdon Leaf had come up
with some excuse to waylay the elders. Even that hope was slim
after four months. If they hadn’t already, they would send someone
before much longer.

From the way Fallon had thrown her refusal to
be his Tolroi in her face, she guessed he wasn’t as sanguine about
her rejection as he first led her to believe. No man enjoyed
rejection and that double for a warlord used to taking what he
wanted.

He now saw her as something of a challenge.
If it had been any other type of man, she might have been able to
turn that to her advantage. But with a man like that? A man
incapable of being influenced or led around by his dick? No. Fallon
would demand any woman to follow his pace, dance to his tune.

Shea had made the right decision this
morning. Best not to fall any deeper in with him.

Composed again, Shea stood. She needed to
find Caden and give him Fallon’s message. She might even be able to
use this situation. Two squads and Fallon’s ten men would be a lot
easier to slip away from than a whole army.

She’d wait and bide her time.

After asking several men for Caden’s
location, Shea finally tracked him down at the training fields. He
was in the midst of sparring with another man. They flowed back and
forth across the field, their blades parrying and striking with a
liquid grace. It was elegant, terrifying and amazing all at
once.

Both men were masters of their craft, and it
showed in the speed with which they moved and the precise blows
they struck.

Shea lingered at the edge of the practice
area, unsure whether she should interrupt or not. On one hand, the
message from Fallon was important, and he was the warlord. On the
other, Caden was technically Shea’s superior and could make things
very difficult for her if angered. Pissing off just one person this
morning was enough.

Shea hated this indecisiveness. It wasn’t
like her. She wasn’t used to not knowing what to do. On the trail,
she rarely felt overwhelmed and always had a plan. But here? This
place was a never ending maze of frustration and questions.

A loud grunt rose as the stranger saw his
chance and lunged forward. Caden parried at the last moment,
sliding his blade under and then over his opponents to sneak under
his guard and land a blow squarely on his opponent’s chest.

Caden drew back and said, “You saw victory
and got careless.”

“I should have known you wouldn’t drop your
guard like that.”

Seeing her chance, Shea stepped forward
drawing Caden’s attention.

“What is it, girl?”

Shea related Fallon’s message.

“Understood.” When Shea just stood there, not
knowing what to do next, Caden ordered sharply, “Return and help
your master prepare for the journey.”

Shea dipped her head in reply and turned to
do just that.

“Is that the girl the men are talking
about?”

“Yes.”

“What is she doing running messages for the
warlord?”

“She refused the position of his Tolroi. He
made her one of his guard instead.”

There was a low whistle before the stranger
said, “Talk about poking a lion when it’s asleep.”

Caden barked a laugh. Whatever was said next,
was lost as Shea moved out of hearing range.

As was her habit, Shea scanned the area for
possible dangers even while lost in thought. It was why, despite
being distracted, she noticed Witt coming out of a tent.

Seeing her chance, she moved quickly,
catching up to him and saying softly, “Witt.”

His head turned. He didn’t seem surprised to
see her standing behind him and waved the two men he was with to
continue without him.

“Shea. Somehow, I’m not surprised that you
would track me down.”

“That makes one of us.”

He sighed wearily. “I expect you have
questions.”

Her silence spoke for her.

“Perhaps we could do this later.”

Her glare and crossed arms didn’t intimidate
him, and the two lapsed back into silence.

Shea, knowing she didn’t have much time
before she was missed, broke first. “Why?”

Witt looked away from her, staring into the
distance.

“Why did you tell him all of that? If anybody
in the Highlands finds out, you’ll be exiled or stoned. Why
couldn’t you have just kept silent? They wouldn’t have known any
different.”

“Did you ever wonder why we were sent to that
village to discuss trade negotiations?”

Shea blinked at Witt. That wasn’t an answer
to her questions.

“What?”

His eyes slid back to hers. “I know you’re
smart enough to have put together that Goodwin of Ria was a setup.
That you, Dane and I were thrown away because we were considered
expendable.”

Shea’s mouth clicked close, and her eyes
dropped from his. Yes. She had suspected as much.

“Then you have your answer,” he told her
simply.

She caught his arm as he moved away from
her.

“What answer? You have a few suspicions and
suddenly your loyalties shift? That’s not an answer, Witt. That’s
an excuse.”

“It’s not a suspicion,” he said in a gruff
voice. “Paul confessed as much when Fallon questioned us after you
escaped. The idiot thought he’d be somehow exempt from being taken
prisoner since he helped the elders set it up.”

Shea dropped his arm abruptly.

Witt’s eyes held pity as he watched the
expression drain from her face, leaving her feeling numb.

What fools they were.

The guild was going to have their blood when
they found out.

“Still, that doesn’t mean you should punish
the entire Highlands for the actions of a few blind, self-serving
men.” Shea meant what she said, even if her voice currently lacked
conviction.

Witt’s snort was ugly as his lips twisted in
sneer.

“A few men? Those same men are in every
village, every city and every fort in the Highlands. It’s a
sickness of the soul, and it’s sunk so deep I doubt there is a
single settlement left unaffected.”

The bitterness in his voice was too potent,
too raw for him to be speaking from anything but experience.