First Comes The One Who Wanders by Lynette S. Jones Read Free Book Online Page B

into a gallop. Racing through town, Joshuas fell silent and Leilas could hear the cries of detection from the soldiers as they passed. Sword at the ready, she hacked at the hands reaching out to stop her mount as she raced past them. She had no idea how many she had wounded or killed. But her hand was covered in the slime of blood and tissue. Her ears rang with the screams of pain. They ran the horses until they passed the outer walls surrounding Dirth and crossed the open field that led to the city. When they reached the shelter of a birch grove Joshuas slowed them to a walk. They had a long way to go and no fresh mounts waiting for them. Leilas turned and looked behind her, expecting to see a cadre of soldiers pursuing them. But they were alone.
    "Those soldiers had no idea who they just let get away," panted Joshuas, addressing her unspoken concern as he fell in beside her. "They were just trying to stop fugitives from fleeing Dirth. I wouldn't like to be them when Darryl and Jayram find we've escaped." Joshuas wiped the perspiration from his face, leaving a streak of blood in its place.
    Leilas looked at her hand covered in blood as well, still clutching her sword. "Will they kill them?" she asked as she wiped the blade on her breeches before she returned it to the sheath.
    "In all likelihood they will. After all, they are just lowly soldiers."
    "Who happen to be men, who have families, friends, people who will miss them."
    "You won't make much of a warrior with that attitude."
    "It's probably a good thing I never intended to be a soldier then, isn't it?"
    "Sometimes things don't work out the way we intend."
    Something in his voice caused Leilas to look up and find him gazing sadly off into his own memories. If it had been Gidron, she would have joined him there and comforted him. But this stranger wasn't her master and friend, and Leilas didn't believe he would appreciate her trying to help.
    "How did you keep them from seeing us as we left?" Leilas purposely pulled him away from his thoughts.
    "The same way you would have," replied Joshuas, first looking down at her, then toward Dirth.
    "I wouldn't have been able to do it," contradicted Leilas. "They would have seen us."
    "This morning it never occurred to you that you could kill a crafter, much less that you would. You never know what you are capable of doing, until you are called upon to try." Joshuas smiled sadly at her and turned his mount in the direction of her mother. Leilas acknowledged the perception of his reply with her silence.
    "Are we heading for the cave?" asked Queen Daina, when Joshuas reached her.
    "It seems like the best defense for now. Do you have a better idea?"
    The queen shook her head. "Will they send someone after us?"
    "Once they realize we’ve escaped." Joshuas nodded. "And they won't send common soldiers."
    "No, they wouldn't, would they? We should make the best of our head start."
    Joshuas took up the lead. Daina and Brenth fell in behind. Leilas brought up the rear. Menas was to the south and to the east. The foothills stood between them and her mother's city. Their destination seemed a bit obvious, but maybe Darryl wouldn't believe they'd head for a place that had rejected her mother so many years before.
    With time to catch her breath from the battle and flight, Leilas tried to wipe the rest of the sticky, drying blood from her hands. But it refused to be eradicated, much the same as the memories from the morning were refusing to be put aside. They kept running through her mind. But now wasn't the time to sort through the confusion and doubt. She would deal with them, later.
    "Always later", a voice taunted her. "One day it will be too late."
    She checked to see if Master Joshuas had whispered the admonition, but he was deep in conversation with her mother. It hadn't sounded like his voice, but she’d wanted to be sure. Who else could have penetrated her thoughts? She glanced around nervously. Could the crafters from the School of Land