“I’m just here!” he called.
“Terence, come back, I wish to return.” She’d lost her visual of him. She listened for the rustling of his feet in the brush or his call to her, but she heard nothing. She set the water sack aside and took a few steps downstream. “Terence?” she called again. She felt needles of worry.
“Eve!” came her name, this time with urgency.
She called out to the boy again. She looked up over the hill to see if Michel was coming yet. She was arrested in what to do: go after Terence or stay and wait for Michel. Then she heard Terence call her name again, his voice desperate and afraid.
He had fallen, she thought. She would need to get to him. Her body moved to run to him, but she turned to call to Michel. She feared being far from him, despite the worry she felt for Terence. That silly boy was a constant danger to himself.
“Michel!” she called again, hoping her voice carried. She forced herself to wait until she saw Michel come over the crest of the slope. “Terence is calling,” she yelled back. “I believe he has fallen.” She ran down the path, toward Terence’s cries.
Michel shouted behind her, but Eve was sure Terence was just over the next ledge. She hadjusthad her eyes on him. She came upon the ridge and looked through the trees, but she did not see him.
She called his name again. She didn’t go further now and instead waited for Michel to catch up to her. When he did, he grabbed her arm. “Eve, we can’t be out here, this far from the guards.”
“Yes, I know,” she said. “Terence was just here.” She trailed off. “He could be hurt.” Then she heard Terence’s voice call her name again. She jumped to run, but Michel grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
“Stop,” he said. He drew his sword and edged forward. “What was he doing?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, feeling frantic, prickles of fear running down her back. Fear for Terence, fear for the sudden oddity to the situation. “He was at the stream, and then he was gone.”
“Terence,” Michel called out. “Come out right now.” When there was no response, he turned to Eve and said with even words, “We are going to go back to rejoin the men. We cannot be out here chasing him through the forest.”
“You’re right,” she agreed. She didn’t want to leave Terence, but something was off.
“I’ll come back with a few of the guards,” Michel replied.
Eve nodded and went to turn, but then she saw something that made her freeze in her place. Just around the slope of the earth, past a few tall sweetgums, she saw Terence.
Standing next to Ganbold.
The sight ignited the prickles down her neck, making them burn with fire. At first, she thought that Terence had been captured. Then she saw the boy look down as he shuffled his feet. She understood. Terence had decided to place his loyalty with the wrong man.
“Terence,” Michel said. “Get over here.”
Terence shook his head.
Michel’s sword was out and at the ready. His stance changed. She knew he would fight, despite this effectively ending any chance left he had with Malik and the tribes.
“Eve, confirm for me,” Michel said to her. His voice was steady. “Is Terence an ally?”
“No, it appears he is not.” She shook her head. Terence’s betrayal gripped her, though somehow, she still felt for the boy.
Panic gripped her. This fight would be too much. Darkness came into her from the edges of her feelings. She didn’t want this to happen. She wanted Michel to make his deal and for them to return together to France. They had been so close.
Michel made to move forward. Eve reached out and touched his arm.
“Michel,” she said. She wanted to tell him not to fight, to run. To get away, leave her to her fate because she understood now that she couldn’t escape it. But all she was able to sputter out was, “Don’t…don’t let him get his hands on you.”
“I won’t, Eve,” he said, solemnly.
ChapterThirty
Michel stepped out to engage Ganbold. He kept his eyes on both the monster Ganbold and the chaotic form of Terence, mad at himself for taking Terence on, for letting this boy infiltrate his plans. Up ahead, Ganbold swung his blade menacingly, grinning his red gummed smile.
This would destroy the relationships with the tribe. Done. No more negotiating. Michel knew in no uncertain terms that to kill a man from the tribes would be waging war. He couldn’t avoid the fight any longer. Not with Eve under his protection.
They were too far to get back to the guards for help in time. The fight would be over before anyone could be alerted. Michel felt a focus come over him then. He felt it in his limbs, his hands. This would happen now. He would fight this man. He also knew that he would win.
