Able had thought walking through the woods was difficult before he had tried it with a bag over his head and his hands bound behind his back. They'd left the bag loose enough that he could see a bit of his feet when he looked down his chest, so he could at least avoid most tripping hazards.
It was cold again today. Able had felt under-dressed at night and several times during the day as well, and if he was reading his brief glimpses of shadows right they were headed even further north. His time in the camp had acclimated him somewhat to the woods, so he could make some sense of time and direction so long as the sun was not cloaked in clouds.
The constant jangling of chains overwhelmed the usual birdsong and rustling leaves. It was the second day of walking in a line behind the prisoners while trying to not bother a Resistance member to steady him when he stumbled. This was his only task, so he recited to himself the names and stories he had been entrusted with during his stay at Brand Camp.
Sincere Burner lost his family and home in the war, found a new wife and home in Whitevale until his new employer could no longer afford to keep him on, and so he lost it all again. Kindness Lastlake came to Aimsby after her village to the west was burned to the ground only to be arrested for vagrancy after the war was over. She served her sentence, went to Neckthorpe looking for work, and was arrested again for vagrancy. Steadfast Buckler had been a carpenter in Kettlebrook when they conscripted him and his workshop for the purposes of the fort—or was that Righteous Highland? He's a carpenter too...
As he'd feared, the names and stories had started to run together in his mind. While unique in their own way, they all told the same sort of tale and all looked to end the same way. Even if he recalled them all, what value was there in honoring them in print? Was there more he could do?
Not right now with a bag over his head, of course, so memorization it was.
Journey Leftbough—referred to as "Stone"—called for a halt, so Able found a place to sit and rest. He realized as he collected his breath that the wind was picking up and the trees were louder. They could be at the field designated for the exchange, or near it. Raven Longfield had explained to him that the prisoners on each side would pass each other in the field. While there shouldn't be any trouble, the grass would be tall enough that he should be fine if he just ducked down in it until the skirmish was over. Able had neither her confidence nor indifference, but there was no use giving himself over to nerves, so he kept reciting in his mind.
A bucket of water was passed around for the prisoners, and another hour passed before they moved again. It seemed to Able that there were fewer footfalls over the next few hundred paces. After that, the shadows fell away, and the relieving warmth of sunlight spread across his back. Stone arranged the prisoners in a line, then walked down it removing their bags one by one.
Able was the first of these, and he blinked and looked around. As he suspected, only three Resistance members in full masks remained with him and the eight imprisoned enforcers. On the other side of the clearing from the huddled group appeared to be a dozen people in chains accompanied by another three in enforcer uniforms. After squinting awhile in the bright light, Able was pretty certain he recognized two of them as Sheriff Reeve and Senior Deputy Capstone.
Reeve held his arm aloft, which Stone then mirrored and said, "Okay, go ahead."
The line of enforcers were chained to each other, but they seemed to have that sorted out as they walked. Bound only with rope, Able followed along the path they stomped through the tall grass. He watched the Resistance members stagger by twenty paces or so away, gaunt and also chained one to another. Seeing them struggle to manage with their chains, Able supposed they had been carted over instead of walked...but he didn't see a cart.
Apparently he was not the only one concerned by this evidence, as no sooner had the enforcer prisoners crested the hill than the Shadow popped up from the grass and seized Reeve by the neck.
"Captain!" Capstone was the first to react and also the first to freeze in place, for the Shadow had arrived knife in hand and had it at the Sheriff's throat.
Reeve was not so conciliatory and had slid one hand up between the Shadow's arm and his neck to try to dislodge him. The Shadow behind him, however, had his belt firmly in hand and was little more than jostled while he continued to threaten with the knife.
"Let's all settle down and let the exchange proceed as planned, hm?"
It was definitely Lark. Able had several emotions he had to get under control now; it'd been more than a week since he'd last seen him.
"You mean as you planned?" Reeve had halted his efforts and seemed perfectly calm.
"As we planned," Lark clucked, "so hand over the additions that were not discussed in the letters."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Reeve elbowed Lark in the chest, close enough to his left side that he grunted, but his grip didn't waver.
"You Larbants are as dishonest as you are unfriendly. Are you stupid as well? I have more than one way of stopping that signal from going off." And he pricked the Sheriff in the neck to prove it.
Reeve exchanged a long look with Capstone, who spread her hands and looked to the third man who indicated similarly. Whatever they had planned, they had taken the no weapons part of the agreement seriously.
"I'm it," the Shadow laughed. "All the backup we needed in a fetching black hood. You can take my word for it, and then we can all go home. In fact, you could even go all the way home, before the nights get so cold that your nose starts running and just never stops."
Reeve watched the Resistance fade into the trees and heaved a sigh. He awkwardly dug into his coat pocket with his left hand until he held up a flare.
The Shadow cleared his throat and poked the Sheriff again, adding a second well of blood to the first.
Reeve grimaced and went back into his pocket a moment, then was holding out two flares.
In a fluid motion, the Shadow kneed Reeve in the backs of his knees, pushed him down, and swept the knife hand over his head to snatch up the flares. He was back a pace before the Sheriff was on his feet again.
Able shivered in delight and was glad no one was paying any attention to him to see it.
"For your trouble," in his left hand, the Shadow presented something that winked in the sunlight.
Reeve rather looked like he wished to smack the hidden face across from him, but he wordlessly took the object instead. The Shadow then flourished a bow for his audience, then turned and whistled his way down the hill. Her hands balled into fists, Capstone looked like she was considering making chase, but Reeve touched her shoulder.
"Not worth it," he sighed and walked by her to the first shackled enforcer where he tried the key the Shadow had given him and found it worked. He continued down the line, calling each lawman by name and welcoming them back.
Capstone started talking to the first one about the conditions they had been kept in, and the fellow described a cave in the woods where they had been chained and fed three times a day and also walked in the woods twice a day "led like horses." Another one added that he'd counted his footsteps since they'd been led from the cave to here but admitted they had never walked in a straight direction, which he was overall uncertain of in the first place.
"Houser?" Reeve had come to the end of the row. "You certainly turn up in the strangest places."
"Did Tanner not mention me, then?" Able asked.
"No, he did, and it's good you're all right, at that. But the letters with the Resistance didn't mention you, not even as a nameless ninth hostage."
"I see. Maybe they didn't think of me as something you'd bargain for. Once they accepted that I was a civilian, they weren't quite sure what to do with me." Able's heart pounded in his ears.
His father had always insisted on honesty. Without honesty, you earn no trust, and without trust, how can you make a place for yourself in this world? What shame would he feel if he saw Able now? What shame could he feel, buried under a false name as he was?
"You'll have to tolerate your bonds a while longer," Reeve brandished the key, "or try to saw through them with this." He began gathering up the chains.
"Did you send them with a key too?" Able looked back down the path in the grass that was slowly recovering from being tramped through.
"I didn't," Reeve grunted as he shouldered his load. "And if they think little courtesies are going to make me overlook the loss of my men, they should think again."
Able held his tongue and looked back the way they came. He knew the Resistance members would be fine, as Ferret was on hand to see to any locks. His eyes drifted back to where he had last seen Lark before he realized it. He pulled himself together and followed the enforcers who were moving out.
Capstone fell in beside him to ask about what had become of him. He pulled out the story he had practiced about being seized from the back of the wagon by mistake, then kept in a tent after they had learned he was a civilian and told him they would get him back to his own people when they had a chance.
"Do you remember anything that could lead us to this camp?"
"I'm afraid even if I could see where I was going I wouldn't be much use in those trees," he said. "Although I do recall wading across a stream to get there. I could hear running water at night too, from my tent. The camp was too loud by day."
"Those hills have hundreds of streams," she sighed. "Any faces?"
"That I would recognize? The woman who took care of me—brought me meals and such, was blond with a longer nose and had a brand on her wrist."
Capstone gave it up for lost with a groan, "Let me know if you think of anything that can help."
"All right," Able nodded and held on to his air a little longer so she wouldn't catch on to his relief.
It took half an hour to walk back to the road where two wagons and four squadrons of horsemen waited. One rider broke towards them before they had arrived.
"Deputy Grinder, we didn't hear the flare—"
"There was a change of plans," the last officer replied. "Tell everyone to stand down and prepare to move out."
The confused rider looked to Reeve, who did not contradict Grinder, so he saluted from his saddle and loped his horse back to the others to relay the order. The mood was frustrated when the group on foot finally arrived, but none questioned Reeve.
One of the drivers who helped the freed prisoners into the back of the wagons had a knife and gave Able a hand. He stretched his arms out and took his seat gratefully. Soon the wagon ponies and the Larbant horses were trotting down the road.