Chapter Thirty Five
Safita woke up with a pounding headache which blurred the corners of her world as it swam in and out of focus. The spinning only got worse when she tried to sit up and winced, feeling her temple gingerly, before she was shoved back down again.
“What do you think you’re doing you idiot?” a disembodied voice snapped at her. “Stay down, you need to come round slowly.”
She shut her eyes again and rested her head against the rock which she was lying on. “Who are you?” she asked into the darkness.
“I know you’ve had a blow to the head,” the voice replied, “but can’t you recognise the man who practically raised you?”
“Hergun?” she exclaimed incredulously, opening her eyes and looking around for him.
“That’s right,” he said with a grin.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were back in the Outlands; I thought you were attacked by Lassirus’ men. Where are we?” Suddenly she remembered what happened before she woke up and she started to panic. “Am I dead?” she asked, her voice rising higher than she wanted to let it.
“No.”
“But they were going to behead me,” she replied.
“But they didn’t.”
“Why not? I don’t understand. Lassirus would never let anyone get away unless he had some kind of plan for them. You’re not working with him are you?” Her words tumbled over one another, slurred by the speed with which she blurted them out and the injury to her head.
Hergun laughed and patted her on the shoulder. “No, I promise I’m not working with Lassirus; I don’t even know who he is. He didn’t kill you because he wasn’t able to stop you - I took care of that.”
“Why didn’t they behead me though?” she asked.
“Like I would ever behead you,” he scoffed. “It’s a funny thing, you know, that all the guards wear the same outfits and helmets. Makes it very difficult to tell them apart I find.”
Safita smiled wryly and shook her head at him with a small chuckle. “You clever bastard,” she sighed. “So what happened?”
“Wasn’t too hard really,” he shrugged, “after Lassirus’ men came looking for information… well I had to recover but I knew that you needed help; knew, of course, that you were headed over the Wall. Anyway once I could walk again I set out for Coraina, crossed over and made my way towards the palace. It wasn’t hard to sneak into the barracks and all I had to do then was pinch someone’s kit and volunteer to execute you; I find that they never suspect the fanatics. Once we were both in there I swung my sword, kicked your knees and knocked you over - you were knocked out cold by the floor and went scarily pale - then I smacked Lassirus and knocked him out too before grabbing you and running away. The guards nearly caught up to me but luckily Lassirus refused to let them have bows inside the castle and I had a head start. Most of them were clearly hired for their size rather than their intelligence - half of them just stood around for a minute or two before they realised what was happening.”
“You just ran out of the castle?” she questioned.
“Of course not, I’m not stupid!” he cried. “No I ran out of the room and slammed the doors behind me, blocked them with my sword and strode away carrying you under the arms, pretending that I was taking you back to your cell. Course actually leaving the castle was harder because we weren’t far in front of the other guards and you were an utterly dead weight so I jumped out of a window and into a cart which was stopped underneath it… Luckily I made a couple of friends while I was there or we would probably be dead by now.”
“You threw us out of a window?”
“It wasn’t very high,” he said casually, “but it was difficult. I could have landed on your spine or something. I tell you, next time you need me to break you out of some stupid situation I’d prefer it if you were conscious. It makes it much easier. Plus then you can actually fight and contribute somewhat to our escape.”
“I’ve never needed you to get me out of anything!” she cried and Hergun looked at her knowingly. “Okay fine, apart from the one you just rescued me from. What happened after that?”
“I got changed in a friend’s house and drove you out of the city buried under the pile of carpets which were in the cart.”
“This is the most ridiculous story you have ever told me and I remember when you once claimed to have escaped a bar fight by pretending to be the queen of a foreign country,” she muttered.
“Darling I make a fabulous queen,” he chuckled.
“Oh it’s good to see you again Hergun,” Safita grinned as she wrapped her arms around him. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too Safita,” he said, “the Outlands aren’t the same without you.”
“Oh you’ll find some other unlucky orphan to raise in time,” she mumbled into his enormous chest, “you don’t need me.”
“I want you though. You can’t just erase years of friendship like that.”
“But I can bloody well try,” Safita laughed as she elbowed him in the ribs. “Wait… aren’t you at risk of being executed while we’re on this side of the wall?”
Hergun rolled his eyes and sighed. “Maybe.”
“You’re the most stupid person I have ever met,” she responded quickly.
He interrupted her before she could start shouting at him though and said, “Stop! I might be at risk of being executed but I just saved you from certain execution so you can hold your tongue Miss. Besides I was planning on heading back to the Outlands so we’ll be perfectly safe in a week or two.”
“Hergun?” She examined the ground beneath her feet and the mud which coated her shoes as she avoided looking at him. It had obviously rained the night before and the yellowed grass under her feet was wearing thin, not helped by the way she ground her shoes into it.
“Yes?”
“We can’t… go back. Not yet.” She tensed up in anticipation of Hergun’s reply; she didn’t know what it was but it would probably involve some sort of teasing and possibly anger. He had, after all, risked his life to get her out of Coraina.
Eventually his voice formed two short, measured words. “Why not?”
“There are some… things I need to take care of back there.”
“Things like?”
A cool breeze blew through the trees which surrounded them, making them whisper as if they too had opinions about what Safita wanted to do; as the wind hit her skin she shivered and remembered that she was woefully unprepared for anything like this. She was still wearing the dress which she had been wearing for somewhere near a month now which was torn and thin and the flimsy fabric shoes which she had on her feet would be more than unhelpful if she had to walk for more than a day. To top it all off she was completely unarmed and was about to suggest marching right back to the centre of the new tyrant’s domain. “Things like Nell,” she replied eventually as she crossed her arms and hugged herself tight, “and Finred and Favia.”
“Your brother’s in the castle?” he asked surprised.
“I dragged him down with me Hergun,” she moaned, pinching the bridge of her nose tightly, “he was so successful; he had such a perfect life. He didn’t know anything about me, anything about the Outlands even, and then I burst back into his life and corrupted him, just like I’ve corrupted everything else I’ve touched. The one thing, Hergun, the one thing I had while I was out in that accursed place and I’ve destroyed it!”
“You could have no idea what was going to happen Safita,” he said, eyeing her worriedly.
“I’m a curse! Everything I do creates evil! He’s locked in a dungeon because of me. He could be dead for all I know,” she whimpered. “So could Finred and Favia! I’ve spent over ten years trying to get back to Nell and now what? It all falls apart as soon as I’m happy! Fortune hates me Hergun; everything in this world hates me. We have to go back to Coraina. I have to try and get my friends out, I can’t just abandon them.”
Hergun frowned but he knew she was too stubborn to argue with. If he didn’t take her back then she would probably leave by herself and get into even more danger than she had been in before; she was skilled and good at her job but his protégée nonetheless had a knack for attracting trouble. Usually Safita extracted herself from the situations and escaped before too much harm befell her, keeping it quiet until a few jobs later when she would return to see him and tell him about it with a laugh while they were celebrating. He shook his head as he thought about how similar she was to Joah; if she wanted to do something then nothing would get in her way and Hergun didn’t have the strength or the will to fight her. “Fine.”
“Fine?” she echoed after a pause. “I thought you’d put up at least a bit of a fight.”
“He’s your brother Safita; I know how much you love him. I have no idea who the other two are but if we’re running a rescue mission for one person we may as well get them out too.”
“Right… Have you got any weapons?”
Hergun grinned and helped her to her unsteady feet with a chuckle. “Oh do I have weapons Safita,” he answered, practically dancing as he led her over to where he had abandoned the cart the previous night before he had carried Safita over to where she had woken up. “Is your head alright? I didn’t mean to do that to you but I had slightly more pressing matters,” he said sheepishly.
“I’m fine, I’ve had much worst in the past,” she shrugged. Hergun left her loitering by the cart as he threw open the back and began rifling through the supplies that he had with him. “I figured that, since they were only going to use them to kill us, I had better take the guards’ weapons with me before I left; I have more swords than I do in my shop back home.”
“That’s wonderful Hergun but what about bows?”
She almost missed his words, so far into the cart was he buried. “You always have so little faith in me,” he complained, “I have three bows here and enough arrows to rid the forests of every stag they contain.” Moments later he emerged triumphantly with a pile of various items clutched in his arms and a quiver slung over his shoulder. “Bow,” he said, placing it on a rock beside her, “quiver, tunic, pantaloons, cloak and boots.”
Safita grinned and grabbed him in a spontaneous hug. “Hergun you really are one of the best friends I could ever have; you know that don’t you?”
“The pantaloons might be a bit big; they don’t make them as tight as we do because they’re only for decoration and I had to get you men’s trousers,” he said by way of reply.
“That’s not how most people respond to that statement,” she said as she took them from his arms and headed behind the cart to change. The clothes were made of a thin fabric which didn’t look as hardy as she needed it to be but they were leagues ahead of the dirty dress which she was wearing and pulling them over her skin filled her with excitement and ecstasy. As she balanced on one leg and pulled the boots on she beamed to herself; finally she was able to truly be herself again and if there was anything which made her feel free it was the feeling of a bow in her hands.
After a while she emerged from behind the cart with her old dress balled up in her arms. In the time which she had taken to change he had harnessed a horse up to the cart and she smiled at Hergun as he finished tying the last knot. “What should we do with this?”
“Put it in the back and we’ll take it with us. We don’t want to leave any proof that we’ve been here in case someone finds it and tells someone undesirable. Besides we might be able to sell it for a small sum of money - it is very fine fabric after all, even if you’ve half destroyed it.” She nearly threw it at him instead just to punish him for his insolence but instead she bundled it into the back and grabbed her new bow before picking her cloak up off the ground. “This feels so good,” she sighed as they jumped onto the bench and Hergun felt for the reins before urging the horse on.
She changed her mind fairly quickly and thanked fortune that she had been unconscious for the journey out. Safita never travelled by cart for any sizeable distance - she had only ever been in one once, when she had been working and had had to catch up to someone ensconced in a fortified trade post - preferring instead to ride. The one journey she had experienced hadn’t been very long and she was so unused to the jolting motion of the cart on the uneven path which led through the rural villages that she began feeling sick less than an hour into the journey. The monotony of travelling in a cart was new to her too and she complained so much that Hergun almost found himself wishing that he had let her find her way back to her friends by herself .She didn’t stop feeling sick until they stopped that evening and she let herself out into the cool night air.
“We ought to reach Coraina early tomorrow morning,” Hergun said as they locked the door to their private room and warmed their hands by the fire which was burning in the small grate, “which will let us sneak in with the traders. If I remember rightly there’s a market on tomorrow so it should be even busier than usual.”
“We will have to find some different items to trade though,” she said. “Carpets are only made in the city apart from two specific types which come from the far North; they’ll suspect something is wrong and search us.” Hergun smiled at her and nodded his approval as he tapped his fingers against the grainy wooden table. “Got it,” he exclaimed with a wicked smile. “I don’t think they’re going to let us stay at this inn again.”
Okay so I don't know whether this is a bit of an anticlimactic way to save her; personally I think it makes some sort of sense and it's how I've thought that she got away for a while (if you re-read the execution chapter I never actually explicitly stated that she was beheaded; wow I am clever! *laughs*) If you do have any issues with this please feel free to comment and I will do my best to take any constructive criticism into account!
Anyway here's the new chapter, please vote/comment/share etc. it'd make my day :)