Passion Play (River of Souls 1)

In starts and stops, Therez crept between and around the wagons, into the forest beyond. Moonlight filtered through the branches, casting blue shadows over the undergrowth and forest floor. She could make out a dark trench that marked the latrines. Farther on, to her right, a stream glittered.

Two shadows, moving between the trees, sent her into a crouch. The perimeter guards. They made frequent rounds, she knew. She would have to time her escape carefully.

Once the guards passed by, Therez counted to ten, then rose to her feet and slipped from tree to tree. Leaves whispered and stirred beneath her feet, no matter how lightly she trod. In spite of the urge to run, she paused every few steps, hoping the guards would think her a forest animal.

She had just reached a point beyond the horse picket, when her foot sank into a muddy patch. Without thinking, she jerked her foot free, stumbled, and heard a sudden noise, like that of men startled into movement.

“Who’s that?”

Therez bolted.

“Grab her!” a guard shouted.

“What’s going on?”

“Alarik’s girl. She’s got loose.”

Therez dodged around a tree, fell over a half-buried root, picked herself up, and kept going. The blanket flapped loose from her shoulders. She let it fall, not even slowing down. More shouts sounded from the camp. Therez glanced back and saw lamps flaring into life. Then she heard Alarik Brandt’s hoarse bellow.

Faster. Faster. Faster.

Her pulse beat in time to the words. She plunged into a dense thicket, jumped over a rivulet, and dodged between tall oaks and bristly pines. Thorns and branches tore at her clothes and face. She broke free, stumbling, only to pitch over the lip of an unexpected bank.

She hit the ground with a thump and kept falling, tumbling over rocks and branches, finally crashing against a massive tree trunk at the bottom. The tree had fallen over, and she could see the hollow underneath, veiled by roots and dirt and leaves. Therez scrambled inside and lay still.

Just in time. Footsteps thudded heavily down the hillside. The men, three of them, circled the clearing, whispering and muttering to one another. One paused by Therez’s shelter, his boots just inches from her face.

“She’s not here,” he said.

“Probably got away,” said another one. “Damn. Well, there’s no use tripping around the dark. Let’s go back and tell Alarik.”

“He won’t like it.”

“Don’t I know that.”

They walked off, expressing their disgust by kicking the branches and leaves. Therez heard their noisy

climb back up the slope. Quiet returned, but she counted to a hundred, then another hundred, before she crawled from her hiding place. By now, the moon was well up, and the sky was clear. It was cold, but she could survive. All I have to do is walk.

She turned and froze. A man stood before her, outlined by moonlight. Therez spun away, but another man lunged at her and threw her to the ground. When he tried to contain her arms, she fought back, biting and clawing and screaming, until he stunned her with a hard blow.

“Don’t break her face,” the other man commented. “Alarik wants that fun himself.”

“Right.” His companion hauled Therez to her feet, twisting her arms behind her back. She sobbed in pain and terror.

The third man came sliding down the bank. “That was easy.” Then to Therez, he snapped, “Quiet. Alarik’s fucking angry enough without you howling.”

The camp was awake and filled with tense activity. Ulf had relit the fires and was handing out coffee. Brenn sprawled over a log, held down by two guards, while Niko beat him with a knotted rope. Volker leaned against a wagon wheel. He looked dazed and sick, and his face was bleeding freely. A dark figure moved in the shadows—the scholar. Therez caught a glimpse of his face, but his expression was unreadable.

Alarik Brandt stalked into view, one of the sentries at his side. He glanced at Brenn’s back, covered with bleeding welts. “Put him to bed and give the other one six cuts.”

“Dock ’em?” Niko asked.

Brandt nodded. “Ten days for both. Scut work from now to Duenne.”

He swung around and saw Therez. His lips drew back from his teeth. “You.”

Therez shrank back. Brandt seized her arm and propelled her past the circle of wagons, to a point near the horse pickets. A smaller fire burned here, its light casting a ruddy light on Brandt’s face. He still had that feral smile.