Pathfinder's Way (54 page)

Sleeping pallets littered the small campsite.
As was usual for fast journeys such as theirs, the Trateri hadn’t
set up a shelter that would need to be torn down in case of a quick
exit.

Fallon’s bags sat abandoned near the hobbled
horses. Shea picked up on the unspoken order, shouldering them and
heading for a spot near the middle of the proceedings, intending to
set his pallet up where he’d be surrounded by his men.

“Fallon prefers to be on the edge,” a man
spoke over her shoulder as she unrolled his blankets.

He pointed in the direction he meant. Shea
gave him a quick nod and gathered both packs and the half unrolled
blankets, before making her way to a little spot just far enough
from the fire that its light wouldn’t bother him as he slept. She
chose a site at the base of a tree with bark the color of ash and
branches that bent gracefully under the weight of its leaves. After
placing his pack at the head of the nest she created, she grabbed
hers and stood.

Now, where should she set up hers?

Immediately, she discarded anywhere inside
the circle of Trateri. Like Fallon, Shea preferred to be on the
edge of things.

She found her ideal sleeping area on the
opposite side of the campsite from Fallon’s. No one had bedded down
within ten feet of her, leaving a nice little bubble of privacy.
Just the way she liked it.

“You might as well pick those up and carry
them back to where you set me up,” Fallon said from behind her.

Shea paused in the act of rolling out her
blankets. “I prefer this spot,” she told him politely, determined
not to let any action of his fluster her.

“And I prefer you next to me.”

There were several responses she could make
to that statement. None of them polite.

“We don’t always get what we want,” she
said.

She was tired. Muscles she hadn’t been aware
of in years ached. Her lower back was one giant throb, and her ass
hurt something dreadful. All she wanted to do was roll into her
blankets and sleep.

“Indeed. You don’t.”

Well, she should have seen that coming.

“I’m not moving,” she told him flatly. “You
have nearly a hundred men. I doubt I’ll be able to sneak off
without at least one of them noticing, if that’s what you’re
worried about.”

It was not quite the diplomatic,
non-confrontational reply she had composed in her head, but it had
been a long day and a headache was beginning to nag at the base of
her neck.

“I’m done with this conversation.”

That was good. She was too.

Shea turned back to what she was doing.

Suddenly, she was up in the air, blankets and
all, before finding herself lying belly down over Fallon’s
shoulder. She let out a sound disturbingly close to a squawk.

“What are you doing?” she hissed, struggling
to right herself.

There was a sharp crack and then a stinging
in her ass cheeks. A series of catcalls and whistles sent Shea’s
face up in flames.

“I told you I was done with the
conversation.”

“I cannot believe you just did that,” she
muttered at his back.

“You sleep next to me.”

He set her on her feet next to his sleeping
pallet and walked away, his message clear. If she persisted in
being stubborn and tried to set up somewhere else, he would escort
her right back here, even if he had to manhandle her to do it.

She threw her stuff down, glaring at his
retreating back.

Stupid, stubborn man.

Even if an aide normally stuck close to his
master, Shea wasn’t doing that. Especially since both of them knew
it was a bullshit title, made to keep her in his vicinity. He no
more needed an aide than she needed an extra head. He hadn’t even
had her perform any of an aide’s normal tasks.

Fine, if that’s the way he wanted it. No one
said what time she had to go to bed. She’d just take a nice walk,
maybe catch a nap while she was out. As long as she was back before
they took off in the morning, he couldn’t accuse her of running
off.

She stalked away, heading into the woods.

Her feet whispered through dead foliage as
she made her way silently. She’d chosen to head into the deep
forest, following a nearly nonexistent game trail. Coming to a
steep hill, Shea veered off the path, picking her way past boulders
and up a steep slope until she stood on the ridge.

Behind her lay the valley Fallon and his men
camped in, while in front of her was a panorama of jagged hills and
shadowed hollows. And trees. Lots and lots of trees.

She walked along the ridge line, careful of
where she put her feet, not wanting to misstep and roll down the
hill. It required all of her concentration and soon the frustration
and anger from her encounter with Fallon drained away as the peace
and serenity of her surroundings soothed her soul.

She missed the wide open expanses of her
Highlands something fierce, where the only thing that shielded her
view were steep mountains so tall they touched the stars. The
heather and wild flowers in spring that turned an austere landscape
into a thing of beauty. The enduring glory of the terrain that had
existed for thousands of years and would continue doing so for
thousands more.

After a day of constant riding, her legs and
back welcomed the movement, though they began protesting before
long. Noting an interesting formation of boulders in the distance
that would give her an excellent vantage point over the valley and
surrounding area, she pushed on with a goal in mind.

Finally she stood at the top of a rocky ledge
jutting out from the side of the ridge, allowing her to walk out
and sit on its edge, her feet dangling over the side. The sun was a
giant orange ball as it set over the valley. In an hour, maybe two,
it would be hidden from sight behind the mountains and the entire
valley would be cast into shadow until true night fell.

Shea would have to head for lower ground
before then or be stuck up here for the night. The path she had
taken to her perch was too uncertain to attempt in the dark. For
now though, she enjoyed the last of the day’s light and breathed
deep as she basked in the calm of the world around her.

Shea shut her eyes to listen harder.
Something didn’t belong. A sound, so faint and discordant from the
normal sounds of animals, wind or trees, that she would have
discounted it if she’d had less experience. Shea couldn’t quite
place her finger on what it was about the sound that seemed off.
All the dips in the hills made sound travel and rebound.

Shea tilted her head.

There.

Voices coming from not too far away.

Crap. Had Fallon sent men after her?

No. The voices were coming from the wrong
direction. Furthermore, she thought she heard horses as well. No
way could his men have gotten the horses up the path she’d
taken.

Shea moved away from the ledge, keeping low.
Since she didn’t know who these people were, it was best to
approach the situation with caution. They might just be traders
traveling from one town to the next. They could be Lowlanders out
hunting. Or they could be decidedly less friendly. Staying hidden
afforded her better protection than the sharpest blade and best
weapons training ever could. You couldn’t harm what you didn’t know
was there. She could always reveal herself later. Or not.

The noise sounded like it was heading
directly towards her. Shea moved further away from the ledge,
finding a little hollow between two of the rocks and tucking
herself inside it.

Then she waited.

“Do you really think her plan will work?” a
man asked plaintively.

“Of course, it will. The lady hasn’t been
wrong once.”

Their voices were slightly muffled but
perfectly understandable. Shea resisted the urge to stick her head
out for a glimpse of the speakers. Hearing their conversation was
more than enough. There was no need to risk discovery. Especially
since they were making no attempt to be furtive.

“She did say she was forming a union with
Fallon,” the first man pointed out. “That never happened, and she
never made good on her promise to elevate our clan’s status.”

Fallon? What did these two have to do with
him?

“You know he led her on, making promises
until she allied with him and then breaking every single one. The
man’s an oath breaker.”

“It doesn’t feel right, though? What we’re
doing. This is dirty business. If she wanted him out of power, she
should challenge him, face to face, as is our way.”

“And be killed? Where would our clan be then?
You know he’s never lost a challenge.”

There was a pause. Then the first man
declared, “I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it,” the second man
scoffed. “Just do what you’re told.”

Another silence followed, broken only by the
sounds of the two moving around. It sounded like they were on the
outcropping Shea had rested on earlier.

“Where is he anyway?” the first man burst
out. “We’ve been looking for him and his men for hours.”

“Oh for the love of all that is holy, will
you quit whining?”

“He may not even be out here. How do we even
know the intel is good?”

“He’s out here.” Shea could hear the struggle
for patience in the second man’s voice. “The lady herself came this
time. The information’s from a very reliable source.”

The two lapsed back into silence.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting,
but was no doubt minutes, the second man said, “Let’s go. I don’t
think we’ll be able to take the horses any further, and we can’t
see anything here. Too many trees in the way. We’ll head back and
see if any of the others have pinpointed their location.”

There was a murmured assent and then the
sounds of movement heading away. Shea waited several minutes after
the last sound had faded before peeking out of her hiding spot.
Seeing no one, she stepped out.

That was a very interesting conversation. One
that could have ramifications for her.

From what she could tell, the two men were
part of an ambush party led by a mysterious woman. A woman, Shea
strongly suspected was the same woman she had overheard the
cartographer talking to right before Shea rescued Fallon.

This would make the second attempt on
Fallon’s life that Shea knew of. If she was a betting woman, she’d
say her first encounter with Fallon in the village of Edgecomb had
been another. Three attempts on one man’s life. An important man
with an army at his back controlled only by his iron fist.

She knew that despite Fallon’s brutal tactics
in conquering the Lowlands, things could be much worse for the
people here. She shuddered to think what his army would do should
he be murdered.

The traitors in his own camp would likely
cast doubt on the Lowlanders in the area to distract his men from
finding the real murderers.

The Lowlands would run red with rivers of
blood as the Trateri avenged their fallen leader. Someone they
counted as a hero who would lead them into a golden era. At the end
of it all, the traitors would probably have exactly what they
wanted, control of the Trateri and all the Lowlands but without the
vision Fallon brought to his conquest.

Or, conversely, it could cast the Trateri
back into turmoil with each clan battling with the next. And the
Lowlanders with a front row seat to it all.

Either scenario didn’t end well for the
Lowlanders.

But.

This could also be a golden opportunity for
Shea.

On one hand, Fallon’s men were well trained,
elite fighters. Shea had never seen them fight, but from what she’d
seen of Fallon and his skills, she had no doubt they were lethal
men.

With the element of surprise and an attack at
precisely the right time from an overwhelming force, even an elite
group could fall.

Shea could go home. With Fallon dead, there
would be no one to exercise the penalty on Eamon, Buck and the
others.

Home.

Back to Birdon Leaf. The people who had sent
her on a mission knowing that she and the others would be sold into
Trateri hands. People who, in the entire time she resided in their
village, had not made one attempt to get to know her, show her any
respect or extend even an ounce of compassion.

Of course, she didn’t have to return to
Birdon Leaf. Given the village’s crimes, Shea was sure the guild
would station her elsewhere.

She missed her Highlands.

But.

If she left, Fallon would die. That vexing,
frustrating, man with the godlike body and a razor sharp mind would
cease to exist in this world.

Shea hurt, her heart actually hurt, at the
thought of never matching wits with him again. At never verbally
sparring with him.

For the first time in almost longer than she
could remember, Shea felt like she was a part of something. She had
friends here. People she trusted. She would not, could not abandon
them for a people she felt no kinship for and furthermore did not
trust to have at her back.

Going home would feed a need in her. Yes. But
the sad truth was that the home she wanted no longer existed. All
that was left for her back there was heartbreak and
disappointment.

If it had been otherwise, she would have
taken one of the countless opportunities she had to escape. They
had been there, over and over again, but she always found some
reason to stay a little bit longer.

Feeling her decision settle around her, Shea
smiled. It was bittersweet. Full of loss and hope. One path had
closed to her. It had been gone a long time. She had just been too
stubborn to see it. There would be no winning redemption. No
rejoining the fold.

She missed her Highlands. Yes. But she knew
better than anybody, home wasn’t a place; it’s a state of mind.
It’s the people you’re with. And for her, those people were all
here.