She was exhausted. She was trembling and jolting at each unexpected sound. Too focused on her survival, even her tears had gone silent to aid in her alertness.
When she reached a stream that ran south, she began to follow it. The village would have built itself on or near the source of fresh water, she was certain. If she went along the path long enough, she would find another soul to speak to.
Hopefully, they were another living soul.
She was starving, her stomach grumbling in protest as she walked, but she filled it with water and mentally told it that was all it was to receive this day. The cold stream was a relief as she cupped water to scrub her face and wipe her wounds clean.
It seemed like both an eternity and only a moment before she noticed the sun was slipping low on the horizon. Soon, it would be night. She would be unable to march through the woods with no light. She had no means of starting a fire, and not even the foggiest idea of how to do so with only what she could find around her.
I wish Leopold were here. He would know what to do. He would help me.The memory of her friend sent fresh grief panging through her. But he was dead and gone. She was alone, and she had to rely on herself to survive.
If I do not make the village by dark, I will do my best to find some shelter. I have water, which is an important start. Perhaps I shall become a forest hermit! I shall live here, living off berries and trout, and this shall be my life. She laughed quietly at the absurd idea.
I do not know which berries are safe to consume. I would die within days. She wished, deeply wished, she knew how to care for herself and survive on her own. But she had always relied on those around her. Her father and the comfortable life he provided, Leopold, and most recently Gideon.
Luckily, as sunset blazed the sky orange and began to die to a pale bluish purple, she saw signs that she might be near the village. Trees were chopped short to stumps, and a deep wagon path ran from the stream and away. Hope and relief swelled in her chest as she immediately began to follow the wagon path.
Not for nothing, it also was less painful on her poor, abused feet.
The forest turned to fields just as the stars began to appear overhead. It was a beautiful night, crisp and cool. God and the weather had been kind to her on a day where everything else was not.
Perhaps it was a good omen. Perhaps now she would find some kind older couple to aid her. It was another hour, and well and truly dark by the time she saw buildings. The moon was half full and gave her just enough light to see out in the fields. Had she been in the woods, she would have been utterly consumed by darkness.
The first building she came across looked to be an inn. It was taller than the rest, although it was modest in its own right. A sign hung from a hook on the front, though she could not read it. When she heard voices coming from a group standing by the side of the building, her heart jumped for joy.
She approached them. In the firelight from the windows, she could just barely make them out. A group of young men, three of them, stood in a circle, speaking casually to each other. One of them was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, smiling and laughing at something the other one had said.
They all went silent as she approached. “E—excuse me, I hate to interrupt, but…I need your help.”
The one who was leaning against the wall tilted his head slightly to the side, his eyes wide in surprise. “Was zum Teufel...Schaut euch das mal an. Ist das eine Leiche?”
One of the others huffed. “Sie sieht aus, als wäre sie gerade aus dem Grab gekrochen.”
“I—I am sorry.” She shook her head. “I do not speak German, forgive me. But I am in desperate need of your help. My husband is—he is a monster, and I need to escape him.” The three young men looked strong and capable. Swords hung from the hips of two of them. Perhaps they were soldiers, traveling on the road? Maybe they could protect her from Gideon! She stepped toward them, a little closer into the warm glow of light coming from the side of the inn. “Please. Help me.”
The third one, the one without the sword, frowned at her. “My French—very bad. You need help?”
With a sob of relief, she clutched that man’s arm. “Yes! Yes. Please. Help.” She placed a hand to her chest. “In danger.”
The third man turned to his friends. “Sie sagt, dass sie in Gefahr sei und unsere Hilfe braucht.”
The first man was watching her, a strange look on his face. He was handsome, his sharp features marred by a thin scar that bisected his cheek. They were soldiers, without a doubt. His dark eyes were fixed on her. She was positive he was their leader. “Soso, unsere Hilfe also? Wir kämpfen aber nicht umsonst.”
The third man, who was shorter with blond hair and blue eyes, turned back to her. “We money soldiers. You pay?”
“I—” She hesitated. Mercenaries. They were mercenaries. Which would be perfect, if…she had any money. The hope in her chest fell just as soon as it had come. Looking down at herself, she took stock of her condition. She had nothing she could trade them for. Nothing at all. She was in her house dress and wore no jewels.
Oh!
She pulled her wedding ring from her finger. It was gold. Perhaps that would be enough to satisfy them? She held it out to them in her palm. “Is this enough?”
The second man, who also had blond hair but was much taller than the third, looked at her with a bemused smile. When he spoke, his voice was smooth and sweet, even if she could not understand a single word he said. “Sie läuft vor ihrem Mann weg. Schaut sie euch an. Er muss sie schwer verprügelt haben, wenn sie so davongelaufen ist.”
The first man with the scar pushed away from the wall and stepped toward her. He was tall, easily over six feet. But she was short, so everyone was tall to her. He took the ring from her palm, thought it over, and then slipped it back onto her finger. He closed her fingers over her palm, but then did not let go of her hand when he was done. “Ich kenne eine andere Möglichkeit, wie Ihr uns bezahlen könntet…mit etwas viel Wertvollerem.”
The way his voice lowered flipped something in her stomach. She did not understand his words, but she understood his meaning.
They do not wish for me to pay in gold.
They wish for me to pay in flesh.