Chapter 9
Why was the insignia of a band of raiders on a simple highwayman’s clothes?
Maybe he stole the clothes? Maybe he used to be a member but had never gotten rid of the insignia but when Drystan had been fighting him he didn’t consider him good enough to be a mercenary.
And what person kept identifying symbols of a fallen army?
If he had been caught alive and found with that he would have been beaten to death for what the raiders did to the country.
Drystan looked up and watched Isadora’s retreating figure and realised that she had a personal tie to this army; why else would she keep it a secret?
He needed to find out what happened to her.
* * *
Isadora was in a place she did not know well.
Drystan had held her and screamed at her like someone who cared.
Her mother had told her once that when boys teased her it was because they liked her; did Drystan care for her?
Was that why he was so concerned with the insignia and her past?
No, Isadora shook her head; he only cared about the collective; not about her.
Who would care for her? Even her father had disappeared on the night of the attack; he had promised to search for them but he never came and he was not amongst the dead. He had abandoned his family.
She didn’t care for him nor Drystan. She cared for no one except herself because who else was going to look out for her?
At least that’s what she kept telling herself until she reached their camp once again and she could focus on something else other than her thoughts.
Because her thoughts were dangerous.
“Forgive me but I feel that God delivered you unto us,” Brother Thomas told Beth and her family around Izzie’s fire and she let out another aggravated sigh. All she wanted to do was go to bed before her watch started and yet Thomas was preaching again.
“Thank you, brother,” Beth’s mother seemed to weep, “I feel as if God is watching over us,”
“He is,” Thomas reassured them.
“Well, maybe he could watch over you somewhere else other than my fire,” Izzie interrupted them.
“You do not believe that you were sent to save us?” Beth’s mother asked Izzie, frowning up at the warrior woman.
“I think your daughter,” Izzie nodded to the young girl that had alerted them to the fight, “stepped in front of our horses and we heard the fight. There was no mystical light or angel that guided our path to you,”
They all stared at her; it was uncommon for anyone to not believe in God and those who didn’t were burnt as witches more often than not.
“Well, forgive me, but I feel as if God made you like this to save others,” Beth’s mother stood as she pushed the others away, “Everyone has a duty; yours is a protector,”
Izzie kept her mouth shut, knowing that what she might say back was not polite; because if she was true then God had a sick sense of humour.
The next day they all travelled on together, despite Izzie’s claim that they would slow them down; they needed to get back on track and get ahead of the army before they burnt another town to the ground.
Beth and her family were walking along with the female archer, Dawn, who Izzie kept in front of her just in case she tried to pull anything though if she did she was as stupid as Izzie thought she was.
“I’m going to go and scout ahead,” Drystan announced to the others.
Izzie envied him for able to get away, why hadn’t she thought of that earlier?
“Isadora,” Drystan turned back when he slightly ahead of them, “Would you like to come with me?”
Everyone looked between Izzie and Drystan, scouting was normally an individual job, and Izzie was caught between getting away from the heard and staying so they didn’t think something was going on between her and Drystan.
“I wouldn’t mind,” Dawn spoke up when Izzie didn’t reply straight away.
“No,” Izzie shouted a bit louder than necessary and pushed her horse forward, past Dawn until she was beside Drystan, “Scouting’s a dangerous business and we wouldn’t want your pretty dress to get ruined,”
Dawn narrowed her eyes at Izzie but she just turned back and headed on with Drystan who was regarding her rather peculiarly.
“Oh, shut up,” Izzie snapped at him.
“I didn’t say anything,” Drystan chuckled, holding up a hand in defence.
“I could hear you thinking,” Izzie explained but that sounded rather strange to her and they fell into silence.
The repetitive sound of horses hooves against the ground and her breathing filled her ears almost soothingly as they progressed through the country, heading for the next village.
“The other night,” Drystan spoke and hearing a different sound almost shocked Izzie , “when I found the army insignia,”
“You mean, when you stole it off me,” Izzie corrected him.
Drystan gave her a strange look, “well, I recognise it. It’s the insignia of that mercenary army that ravaged this land almost a decade ago,”
“What of it?” Izzie asked, licking her lips.
“I saw your face . . . you have a past,”
“Everyone has a past,” Izzie told him, not liking where this conversation was heading.
“A dark past,” Drystan clarified, “Something to do with that horrid army invasion,”
“I was only eight when they came to the land,” Izzie snapped, “What past could I have with them at that age?”
Drystan didn’t answer and Izzie hoped that that would be the end of the topic but she doubted it; she knew she had just piqued his curiosity further.
“There,” Izzie whispered, bringing her horse to a stop and pointing her sword to where a single royal guard was resting just beyond the bend.
“I think we’ve reached our target,” Drystan whispered as he removed his own sword, “Follow my lead,”
Izzie watched him dismount his horse and hide his sword under his cloak. Izzie was going to tell him off when he was too far and she cursed herself.
Jumping off her horse she tied her up with Drystan’s before she caught up with him.
“Who goes there!?” A guard stood to attention and shouted at them.
“Please, sir,” Drystan kept his head low and limped, “Me and my wife,”
Isadora gave him a look before remembering that the guards were meant to think them feeble and went back to hunching over.
“We’ve been walking for days. Please, where is the next village so we may rest our heads?”
The soldier sheathed his sword and looked at them both in pity, “Turn around now, sir, if I were you. This village is riddled with the pestilence and if you do not wish to be killed, I would turn back the way you came,”
Drystan and Izzie shared a look.
“We have heard of this pestilence,” Izzie stepped forward, “Is the King doing anything to save our land?”
“He is, ma’am,” the guard reassured her, “We are currently purifying the land right now,”
“Right now?” Izzie straightened, her hood falling away and the guard realising that they were not the feeble couple he had been led to believe.
“But you-” the guard started.
“-Oh, shut up,” Izzie snapped at him before she whacked him over the head and he fell to the floor unconscious.
A moment later they heard the distant screams as the guards made their way through another village; only this time they had arrived early and could still save them.
“Let’s go,” Izzie rushed and went to head into the village when Drystan grabbed her hand.
“We need to wait for the others,” Drystan told her, they would have a better chance if they had more people.
“You can wait if you want,” Izzie snatched her arm back and removed her sword, “I’m going in,”
And before he could grab her again she ran towards the village, taking the path through the forest so she would come up on the rear of the village and surprise the guards.
She just hoped she wasn’t too late.