Pathfinder's Way(22)

She headed to the edge of camp closest to the mouth of this valley. She  wanted to be out of sight of the sentries as soon as possible and she'd  be in view a lot longer if she went to the other side of camp.

She hurried along the dirt pathway, trying to project the air of someone  with important matters to attend to. Meanwhile, she kept an eye out for  anyone whose eyes lingered on her for too long or any shadows that  might have followed her.





Shea clung to the tent's shadows, watching as the perimeter guards  conducted a systematic search of everyone heading to the outer ring of  the encampment. She'd made it all the way to the end of the tent city.  Now, she just had to pass the massive horse corrals and the training  fields rimming the camp.

Beyond them was the outer perimeter, which would have stationary  sentries watching from the high ground and roving sentries to keep an  eye out for anything trying to slip through the cracks. That's if  whoever set this camp up knew what they were doing. From the looks of  it, they did.

A guard tilted a young boy's face up, turning it from side to side. Shea  guessed from the thorough inspection that Darius and Damon suspected  she had changed her appearance.

"Crap."

This was the third checkpoint she'd encountered since nearing the edge  of camp. Once again she would have to try to find an alternative way  out.

The knot in her stomach got tighter every time she encountered one of these.

"You're late." A heavy hand landed on Shea's shoulder and dragged her around to face the speaker.

She jumped and let out a loud squeak. Heat flashed up and down her back, leaving her sweating in her jacket.

A pair of annoyed brown eyes frowned down at her. She struggled against  the hand holding her, but couldn't budge it. By the way the man kept  speaking without missing a beat, she wasn't sure he even noticed her  attempt to flee.

"We've been waiting nearly an hour for you to get here." His grip  changed to her arm, and he dragged her behind him as he headed toward  the sentries. "I don't know how they do it in Eagle Company, but in  Dawn's Raiders, when we say to be somewhere, you're to be there on  time."

Shea stumbled after him, not really hearing everything he said, her eyes  glued on the fast approaching sentries. He barely checked his pace as  he waved at one of the men. The man grinned and waved back.

"Eamon. Thought your party already left," the sentry said. He barely spared her a glance.

"We were, but then we learned that one of our scouts showed up soused. He couldn't even put his shoes on the right feet."

"Ah." The sentry fought to hide a smile.

"I had to beg Landry for another scout to round out our numbers, and all  he could spare was a junior just out of his apprenticeship. One who  obviously can't tell time as he's an hour late," this last was said with  a dark glower at Shea.         

     



 

She realized he meant her. He'd mistaken her for someone else. She didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.

The sentry followed Eamon's gaze to Shea. "He looks young."

Eamon frowned at her again. "Damn it. He gave me the runt of the litter. He said he was giving me one with potential."

"And you believed him?"

Eamon sighed. "This whole mission has been one clusterfuck after another. Everybody's running behind tonight. What's going on?"

"You didn't hear?"

"Obviously not."

"They found that ghost woman. You know, the one everybody has been  looking for over the past few months. Only, get this, she's up and  disappeared again. Camp's on high alert until she's found."

Shea froze, wanting desperately to fade into the steadily deepening  shadows. Even as they spoke torches were being lit to provide light  against the encroaching darkness.

"Great," Eamon said. "It's going to be a bitch trying to get past the final perimeter if that's the case."

"Good luck," the sentry called to Eamon's back as he dragged Shea behind him.

Eamon held one hand up in acknowledgement. Shea followed without  protest. It couldn't be this easy, could it? They barely noticed her  once Eamon started talking.

"What's your name?" Eamon barked at Shea.

In the waning light, Eamon's face was mostly lost in shadow, but she  could feel his irate gaze pressing down on her. She was so startled she  almost let her real name. "She-ane."

"I'm Eamon, the second in command."

Shea nodded, forgetting he couldn't really see her. This must have been enough for him because he faced forward.

He dropped her arm as soon as they were past the sentries, but she  tagged along behind him, hoping she could use him and his party to slip  past the final perimeter.

The rest of his group waited next to the corrals, their horses saddled  and packed. Ten men watched them with varying degrees of interest,  touched with a lot of impatience. By now the sun had fully set, and the  evenly spaced torches cast small pools of orange tinged light.

Eamon walked up to a tall man who had completely ignored their approach.

Not waiting for acknowledgement, Eamon gestured at Shea, "I've found our second scout. His name's Shane."

The tall man looked her up and down, his eyes flat and unfriendly. A  scar ran from ear to jaw, and his mouth was bracketed by permanent frown  lines.

"You're late, boy," the man said.

When everyone just stared at her, Shea realized they expected some kind of response. "Yes, I got lost."

As if, pathfinders didn't get lost.

"How can you expect to be a scout if you get lost?" the man with a green  jacket similar to Shea's asked, looking her up and down.

It was a fair question, and if she knew exactly what a scout did she  might have an answer. She had a vague inkling that it was similar to a  pathfinder.

"Alright, enough talking," the first man said crossly, losing patience.  "We've already lost enough time tonight. Saddle up, we've got a ways to  go before we can stop."

Eamon dragged Shea to a horse and then left without another word. Guess that meant this was her horse.

She patted its nose and smiled when it whickered back at her in greeting.

This was almost too easy.

Minutes later they were riding into the inky darkness. Shea spared a  single glance behind before following. She only hoped Witt and Dane met  with the same luck.





Chapter Seven





The men stood as Fallon strode into the tent. He lifted a hand in acknowledgement.

"She's through there." Darius nodded at the partition.

Fallon moved past the others, tugging aside the piece of fabric and ducking through to the other side. It was empty.

He turned in a full circle to make sure. No sign of the woman.

He raised his voice and asked, "Is this a joke?"

Conversation stopped. There was an abrupt silence before Darius ducked into the chamber.

"Damon," Darius barked.

Fallon and Darius stared at the post. The now empty post that Darius  used to detain important prisoners, had neither manacles nor girl  attached to it

Damon shouldered in behind them and walked over to the pillar.

"Where is she?" Darius asked him.

He seemed just as confused as them. "This should be impossible. I put her in the irons."

Darius swore. "If you put them on her, how did she escape?"

"I don't know."

Ignoring the escalating argument behind him, Fallon examined the post  closely. There were scratches on the wood as if something heavy had  scraped against it. These marks scarred the post all the way to the top.  If he had to guess, she used the chain to climb the pole and then  worked it over the top, leaving her free to escape.         

     



 

Damon crouched by a slit in the siding and stuck his head out. "However she got loose, she went this way."

"Follow her," Darius snapped. "Take men with you."

Damon nodded, calling for his men before following the woman's path.

"Fallon," Darius started, an explanation already on his tongue.

Fallon raised a hand, still looking at the top of the post. He shook his  head. Darius wasn't to blame for this oversight. This post had been  used to chain much stronger men than the girl.

She possessed an unusual amount of cunning to have escaped one of his  best generals. Very tricky. His shoulders shook. Before long his  laughter echoed in the room.

Darius watched cautiously, not used to seeing amusement on the normally  stony face. Darius followed Fallon's gaze. His lips twitched as he saw  the humor of the situation.

"Once the troops learn of this, they're going to start calling her the phantom," Darius observed.

Fallon grunted in agreement.

"I wonder how she plans on getting rid of the chains," Darius mused.  "With the level of effort she puts into escaping, you'd think we planned  to torture her or something."

"At least it's not up a cliff this time," Fallon said.

"My heart nearly stopped when she almost fell."

"Mine as well," Fallon admitted.

The woman was foolhardy. Brave, but seriously lacking in judgment.  Though this was no cliff, it wasn't any safer venturing into a camp full  of hardened warriors. One of them might decide to keep her. He'd hate  to have to kill a man loyal enough to follow him this long.