Much hung in the air between us, unspoken. Then she said, “We can’t ask her.”
“I know. I couldn’t get the words out. We should try and talk to the man called Thatcher, the bald one with the beard. The man who— the one who intervened. If he can tell us, then we will not need to further upset her. She has not said a word since.”
“What are we going to do?” Mischa’s eyes were shining. “I still cannot believe— I cannot believe that happened. And to her. To Helena.”
I looked above me into the dark blue of the sky, sunlight still far enough away for everything to be cast in shadow. “I know. I know.” I willed myself not to cry. “Should we find and ask Thatcher if he thinks— you know?”
She stood and we walked to where Thatcher was saddling his horse. Standing next to him, holding gear, were two other men whose names I did not know and Alric and Perch. I took a step towards Perch and holding my arm out as far as I could, so as not to come any closer, I handed him his canteen.
“Our thanks,” I said.
“I can get you a fresh one,” he said gruffly, taking the canteen.
The two of us stared at them and they at us for a moment and then I looked at Thatcher and spoke. “We need to ask you—” I paused to inhale, “if you think she will need a tonic?”
All of them had a look of confusion.
I said, “To prevent her quickening with child. We cannot bear to ask her.”
“Please do not make us ask her,” Mischa hissed.
And then Thatcher said, “Gods, no. No. I was able to— he didn’t… I found them before.” He ran a hand over his beard. “She shouldn’t need one.”
“To be prudent, are we close to a village?”
“A day away from a settlement of sorts, with farms,” offered Alric. “No apothecary. No physician, but they’ve a midwife. I think they will. You can— We will find one for you.”
“I will,” said Thatcher. “I’ll find a woman. Make the purchase.”
Alric said something so low only Thatcher could have heard.
I glanced down to his left hand. It was slick with blood.
“You just had to bind our wrists, didn’t you,” said Mischa, scowling at him. “She didn’t have a chance in Rodwin’s hell. You fucking bastard.”
A twitch quivered around Alric’s eyes, briefly and then was gone.
The other men continued to stare at us.
“Mischa,” I warned, grabbing at her right hand with my left. Looking at Thatcher pointedly, I said “thank you.”
Mischa had begun to cry and I was close behind her, but I did not want our pain on display. Returning to the sleeping women, we walked with our bodies close, hands clutched, her head bent towards mine.
Quinn was right. Farming lands met us at the edge of Nyossa. We spent the day that followed Helena’s attack and Nash’s execution, bidding farewell to the haunting woods, the trees farther and farther apart down the road. I found myself confused that this made me sad. I had spent so much time in the place, its secretive, murky climate had become familiar to me. I wondered if I would ever see something like the luminous stream again. I had Helena with me on Nash’s horse, sitting in front of me again. She seemed to have a little life to her, one hand on the pommel for support, one holding Perch’s canteen, sipping from it occasionally. But, she remained without speech. We were of similar heights so I rested my chin on her shoulder sometimes, reminding her that I was there.
Yet again, the close guard of two soldiers on horseback on either side of one horse carrying women was lax. For most of the day, I was in the middle of the procession with no horse on either side of mine. By late afternoon, Helena had handed me the canteen to sling along the back of the saddle and she had fallen asleep, her head leaning back on my right shoulder. To my left, Alric’s horse pulled up beside us, his eyes on me.
“How does she fare?” he asked. His voice was quiet, nearly gentle.
I returned his gaze, knowing my eyes to be red-rimmed. I could not speak.
He looked away, but stayed next to us for the rest of that day’s journey.
Part II. Stranger
15. Farmlands
Nyossa’s thinning trees were our sign that our days in the forest were behind us. As the sun set, farming land made itself more and more apparent on either side of the road, sparse fields of wheat, barley, oats, potatoes, sugar beets. Some of the fields held paddocks of sheep, cattle, goats and some had horses, all grazing, uninterested in our passing. When we reached paddocks on either side with nothing but horses, all fine-boned and tall, Alric rode his mount to the front and spoke with Fletch and Perch. We came to a halt and Alric, Perch and Fletch rode towards an outcropping of buildings abutting the paddocks on the right side of the road.
