Lily laughed. “Landing on your arse is half the fun!”
“Oh? Then we should do just fine.”
Oskar was hesitant at first, his movements stiff and uncomfortable, but as he glanced down at Lily’s hand in his, he allowed himself to be drawn into the rhythm of the music. They were awkward and clumsy and Oskar hadn’t been kidding when he said dancing wasn’t one of his skills, but it wasn’t meant to be serious. It was meant to be fun.
As they moved, Lily felt the tension between them begin to dissipate. She could see the corners of his mouth twitching with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. The cold breeze that had been nipping at her nose lost its bite, replaced by a cozy warmth that seeped through her from where Oskar’s hand rested on her waist.
“See?” she said. “It’s not so bad, is it?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, it is, lass,” he replied. “I feel ridiculous. I hope none of my sword-brothers are watching. I reckon I would die of embarrassment.”
Lily laughed, letting it blow through her like a spring gale, blowing away the last of the heaviness that had dogged her the past few days.
Eventually, the music came to an end and the dancers stepped back, breathless and laughing. Lily joined in as they clapped the musicians who all stepped forward to take a bow.
Lily’s gaze moved beyond the musicians and she saw a man standing in the shadows. He wore a dark cloak that fluttered in the cold wind—and he had a crutch under one arm. Awareness prickled at the back of her mind and she suddenly recognized the man.
Alfred Brewer.
“Oskar!” she whispered, leaning close. “Behind the musicians. It’s him! Look!”
Oskar’s eyes flicked to where Lily indicated, and his expression went flat.
“Aye, Lily, I see him,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous.
He drew his sword with a soft scraping sound and began edging towards the man on silent feet.
Suddenly, as if sensing Oskar’s approach, Alfred Brewer turned around. He froze, eyes widening. Then he spun and took off up the street, hobbling as fast as his crutch would allow.
With a snarled curse, Oskar ran after him, and after a moment of stunned hesitation, Lily ran after them both. As they sprinted uphill, the sun descended behind the buildings, casting long shadows that danced eerily over the ground. They dodged the carts, wagons, and merchants who were busy haggling and bartering, their voices booming like a chorus of eager crows.
Up ahead, Lily saw a large cart blocking the street, its cargo of barrels being unloaded by a group of burly men. Two large, sweating horses stood in the cart’s traces, their manes tussled and their coats glistening in the light.
Alfred reached the cart and whirled to stare at Lily and Oskar gaining on him. Then, in a flash, he drew his knife and slashed through the traces that harnessed the horses.
“Yah!”
He slapped the horses hard on their rumps. Whinnying in fright, the horses bolted. They fled uphill, their hooves clattering, sending up sprays of mud and slush and causing the passersby to scatter in panic. With nothing to hold it, the cart began to slide backwards, the men struggling to keep it in place as it wobbled dangerously.
With shouted curses, they lost their grip and sprang back to keep from being crushed. Lily watched in horror as the cart began to roll with the force of gravity, picking up speed as it went, its wheels rattling against the uneven stones, the barrels bouncing dangerously as it raced down hill—straight at her. She was frozen, unable to move.
Then Oskar slammed into her, taking them both sprawling just as the wheels careened through the space they’d just occupied. He covered her body with his own, shielding her as the rumble and screech passed by, so loud and so close that Lily was sure they would both be crushed. She heard panicked cries from further down the hill, a loud crash, and then screaming.
Oskar scrambled up, yanking her to her feet. Heart thumping, Lily looked around. They had been lucky—but others had not. The runaway cart—given devastating momentum by the weight of the barrels it carried—had crashed through the crowd and through a series of stalls, sending barrels flying, ropes snapping, and creating a domino effect as the closely-packed stalls collapsed into each other. The street was littered with broken wood—and broken bodies—but now something else threatened.
Fire.
In the chaos, lanterns had been scattered across the ground and now the hay and broken wood that covered it took light with a whoosh.
Oskar hesitated for only a heartbeat before he sprang into action. “Ye and ye,” he barked, pointing at two men who were staring wide-eyed at the carnage. “Help me douse these flames before the whole market goes up.”
He called out to others nearby, shouting for them to start pulling people from beneath the wreckage. They grabbed blankets, buckets of water, and anything they could find to help extinguish the flames while others struggled to free those trapped.
“I’ll help the injured!” Lily shouted.
She rushed through the chaos to find those who needed her help. There were many, some with broken limbs from being hit by the cart or the barrels as they came flying out the back, others with cuts and bruises from splintered wood and flying metal. She sorted through the injured, tending to those who needed medical attention and calming those who were in shock. She didn’t have her bag with her so she did the best she could with what was to hand. She tied tourniquets, applied pressure, and tried to calm those who needed aid that was beyond her meager skills.
She could hear the fire roaring behind her as it grew and spread, could smell the stench of burned wood and hay, as Oskar and his helpers struggled to contain it. She pushed it from her mind, concentrating on her tasks. Her hands moved quickly to apply makeshift bandages and splints and she barely noticed the pain that gripped her shoulders and back. She barely noticed the sweat that dripped into her eyes, or the sting of tears as she worked.
