Ena of Ilbrea: The Four Book Saga

Chapter 9

9

I left for the woods at dawn the next morning. I’d heard Lily come in after the wedding but stayed silently huddled under my blankets. I didn’t want to talk to her. Didn’t want her to stare at me with her steel gray eyes and know she felt sorry for me―even though she’d never say it.

After a night spent trapped in a horrible dream, I still didn’t want to see her. I slipped out of the house when the sun finally rose and fled for the safety of the forest.

The trees didn’t ask what kind of a foolish girl would turn down the best marriage Harane had to offer. The birds didn’t call me a hypocrite for making inks to be sent to Ilara where only the gods knew if Guilded paun would be using them. The rotting leaves squishing under my feet didn’t say there could be no hope of joy for an orphan girl incapable of loving anyone.

I made it higher in the mountains that day than I ever had before. I stuffed every chivving leaf and lichen into my bag that had a chance of making Lily happy and took pleasure in the pain its growing weight caused me.

Better now than later. I tried to comfort myself. Better for Cal to know you could never live in his tavern now, before Karin chooses a husband.

The thought of Karin lying in Cal’s arms made me scream loud enough to send a flock of birds scattering to the sky. But it didn’t change anything. Cal belonged in the tavern with his family. I could never live with being glad the Guilds were coming.

Simple as that.

When I’d finally gotten tired enough that climbing back down the mountain would be painful, I turned around and headed home.

By the time I made it out of the forest, my legs shook so badly I wasn’t sure I would be able to climb over the fences to get back to Lily’s. I took a deep breath to steady myself. There was something more in the wind than the usual scent of animal dung and trees.

I took another breath, trying to find what the stench might be. My gaze caught on something on the horizon, a pillar of smoke rising from the northern side of the village.

Taking off at a run, I headed toward the flames, ignoring the trembling in my legs that threatened to send me face first into the dirt.

The smoke wasn’t from the very northern edge of the village, and it was back from the main road, off toward the farms on the western side of Harane. I scrambled over fences, dodging around terrified livestock that had scented the fire and knew they had no chance of escaping their pens.

I didn’t hear the screams until I neared the road.

A man crying out in agony.

I stopped behind Shilv’s house, teetering between running to get Lily to help whoever had been hurt badly enough to make that sort of noise, and being afraid of leaving someone to die alone.

The man screamed again, and I ran forward, toward the sound.

“What…” My question faded away as I saw why Shilv had been screaming.

Five Guilded soldiers in black uniforms stood in a line, staring down at Shilv who clutched the b****y stump of his arm to his chest. Shilv’s wife Ester knelt ten feet away, sobbing as she stared at her husband.

I stood frozen for a moment before instinct took over.

And I ran.

Around the side of the house, leaping over the fence and tearing through the pasture without looking to see if any of the soldiers had followed me.

My breath hitched in my chest as I ran. Shilv had been toying with the Guilds for years, hiding his livestock when the scribes came to do their tax accounting.

A hand for the money Shilv owed. If Lily could take care of the wound and make sure no infection set in, Shilv wouldn’t be too bad off. His wife was strong. They’d find a way to make do.

I looped back out to the road, heading toward the fire. I pressed my back to a house to peer down the road before venturing into the open.

Shilv’s screams had faded, and there was no blood here. But there were soldiers. A pack of soldiers moving down the road with some purpose I didn’t understand. They kicked in the door of a house. I ran across the street while they weren’t looking and dove into the shadows of a stable.

The horse kicked against the wall, fighting to break free. The banging shook my ears as I ran to the western end of the stable.

I didn’t have to go farther than that.

Flames shot up from the Tillys’ house. The whole place had been eaten by the inferno. Two figures lay b****y and bare across the walkway. Henry’s unmoving back bore the marks of a terrible whipping. His father’s chest had been cut open by something sharper. Both of them were dead.

I bit my lips together until they bled as I swallowed my scream.

I didn’t know where Malda was. If they’d left her in the house, there was nothing I could do for her. Nothing even Lily could do for her.

“Lily.”

A fear like I hadn’t known in nine years seized my lungs, choking the air out of me. I ran south, along the backs of the houses, racing toward home.

Lily was smart. She hid the things the Guilds had banned. She only treated people she knew she could trust. The villagers loved her. They would sooner let themselves be whipped than turn Lily in to the Guilds.

Soldiers had gathered behind Les’s house. I ducked between buildings and toward the main road before I could see what might have become of Les and his angry wife.

I made it all the way to the side of the tannery.

If I cut between the tavern and the public stables, then looped behind the houses, I’d reach home in a few minutes. I had to warn Lily, make sure she had everything hidden.

I leaned out to check up and down the street. Pain cut through my head as someone grabbed my hair and tossed me to the ground.

The dirt flying into my mouth cut off my scream.

“Who is this sneaking around?” a man said.

I pushed myself to my knees. A kick to the ribs sent me back to the ground.

“Get her up,” a second voice said.

A hand grabbed the back of my coat, hauling me to my feet.

Screams came from the south end of the village as a new pillar of smoke drifted toward the sky.

“What’s your name?” A soldier leaned close to my face.

I wanted to scratch his leering eyes out, but another soldier had pinned my arms behind my back.

“Your name.” The soldier took my chin in his hand.

“Ena.” I spat the dirt out of my mouth, letting it land on his fingers. “Ena Ryeland.”

“Ryeland isn’t a land owner here.” A man in white scribes robes stepped forward.

“I don’t own land,” I said. “I’m a worker, that’s all. Now let me go.”

Laughter came from behind me.

I glanced back. There were six other men in black uniforms. I tried to yank my arms free.

“What kind of work would a pretty little thing like you be doing?” The soldier trailed a finger down my neck.

“Don’t touch me.” I kicked back, catching the man who held me in the shin.

The soldier stepped closer to me, pinning me between him and the one I’d kicked.

“You have attacked a soldier of the Guilds of Ilbrea.” He wrapped a hand around my throat, cutting off my air. “You just made a terrible mistake.”

“Gentlemen!” Cal’s voice shouted from across the road. “Come have a drink!”

“We’re busy here.” The man behind me pressed his hips to my back.

I coughed as I tried to pull in air past the pain squeezing my throat.

“I can promise each of you, you’d rather have some frie and roasted lamb than mess with that.” Cal laughed. “Come in. Drinks are on the house, and you can forget that little street scum ever bothered you.”

None of the soldiers moved.

“You’re here to uphold the laws of our great country.” Cal beckoned them toward the door. “You are doing all of us a service by clearing the law breakers out of our village. Come, let me give you a good meal as a token of thanks. I promise the frie we have is the best you’ll find south of Ilara.”

The soldier in front of me stepped away. He let go of my throat, and the world swayed as I gulped down air. “One this pretty must be diseased anyway. Let’s go, lads.”

The man holding my arms threw me back down into the dirt.

“I have chamb, too, if any of you prefer,” Cal said. “Six years old. I’m told the grape harvest was perfect that season.”

Cal led the soldiers into the tavern.

I pushed myself to my feet before the last of them disappeared and ran back between the buildings. I’d made it past the smith’s when footsteps pounded up behind me and a hand slammed me into the rough clapboard.

“Do you think I’m that much of an i***t, girl?” The man’s breath touched my neck. He leaned into me, pressing his stiffness against my back. “I will not be disrespected by a filthy little rotta.”

“Please don’t.” I tried to reach into my bag, for the knife tucked under the layers of foraged things.

He grabbed my wrist, twisting my arm with one hand and snaking my skirt up my leg with the other.

“Don’t do this.” I wanted to scream for help, but helping me would be a death sentence.

“Rotta need to learn their―”

A grunt, a rasp, and a gurgle cut through the man’s words.

I turned in time to see a spray of red fly from the soldier’s throat as he toppled to the ground.

“We need to go.” A hand seized mine, dragging me away from the dying soldier.

I looked to the one who had saved me. Black curling hair and deep brown eyes―the man who’d been with my brother in the woods dragged me away.