Chapter 15

The journey to Gyueson had been a hard one. Corsha had never been outside the city and Analie was unused to traveling on foot. The stops along the way were few and despite the relative safety of the established safehouses, Analie faced difficulty finding rest. She practically vibrated with nervous energy, the need to do something, anything, to protect them, to hide them. 

Corsha hovered over her, wanting to help, to ease that anxiety but unsure how to accomplish that. Analie could see that all consuming need to help in her cousin's eyes, could sense the resulting frustration growing by the day. 

They danced around each other for days, trying not to further aggravate the other's anxiety, their relationship growing ever more strained until at last they arrived at Gyueson, the town where, according to their last contact, they were to meet their escort.

A warm meal and lukewarm bath later, the pair retired to a tiny,  windowless room at the inn reserved under the alias they'd been provided. 

The single bed was narrow, the mattress a lumpy mess of straw that poked through the threadbare fabric that covered it. The floor was gritty with dirt and creaked with even the smallest movement. The seemingly once white walls were thin and stained a dingy beige from smoke and grime. But it was dry, relatively warm, and reasonably safe. It was also one step closer to their new home.

They agreed to sleep in shifts, as they had each night since leaving the city. As Analie drifted into fitful sleep, Corsha positioned herself facing the door and laid her dagger across her lap. Now they had only to await their escort. She'd caught sight of the man in her peripheral vision and seen the sudden change in him after reading Analie's letter. He'd gone from weary mercenary to purposeful soldier in an instant. That spoke well of him. 

A key turned in the lock and Corsha tensed, her grip tightening on her dagger. The door swung silently open, their escort staying well back as if expecting her weapon to fly in his direction. 

“Time to go. Best to be gone before daylight. It's three days, at least, to Aarov.”

Corsha nodded briskly, sheathing her dagger and waking Analie. They were on the road within half an hour. As Gyueson faded from view, Corsha dared to ask the questions that had been running circles through her mind, starting with the most pressing.

“How shall we address you, sir?”

The man startled, scratching his head, “Oh, I guess introductions would be helpful. The name's Mirren, a guardsman of Aarov.”

Corsha smiled, not at his discomfort but at how human it made him seem, “I'm Corsha, a former maid. And this is my cousin Analie. We are grateful for your aid, sir Mirren.”

Analie nodded her greeting, opening her mouth to speak but freezing before the words could form. 

“Ana?” 

“We're being followed. Six adults. At least two wearing sigils.”

Mirren's eyes narrowed, searching the darkness behind them, his hand on his sword, “Can you tell how far back?”

Analie shook her head, “I can stall them though. At least the ones with sigils.”

Mirren glanced between the darkness and the diminutive mage, “We'll wait. If it becomes necessary, we'll use it. For now, let's not alert them that we know about them.”

A decisive nod was Analie's only reply before she grabbed Corsha's hand and resumed walking. They tried to maintain the purposeful but unhurried pace from before but couldn't help the speed that knowledge of their pursuit spurred them to.

Periodically Analie would close her eyes and slow her pace for a few steps before continuing on. It worried Corsha. She wanted to help in some way. If Analie could track their pursuit and Mirren could fight, what purpose did she have?

—---------------------------------------------------------------

Mirren kept half his attention on their surroundings and half of the two young women who followed behind him. The younger of the two was obviously a mage, but the other he was unsure about. Was she a mage too, or just a supportive family member?

“They're closing in. If I am to stall them, we cannot wait any longer.”

The girl's voice was calm, nearly emotionless but he noticed her hands were trembling, a thin trickle of blood staining her palm, as if she'd clenched her fists too tightly. 

“How exactly do you intend to stall them?”

“I can overload their binding sigils, causing pain and confusion. It will disable them long enough for us to escape.”

Mirren nodded slowly, “But will that be enough? They may still overtake us later, bearing a grudge. It would be better to eliminate them.”

Analie wrapped her arms around herself and spoke so quietly Mirren had to strain to hear her words, “But they may be under orders. Fighting the orders brings pain. They may not have any choice.”

Mirren understood that, he did, but if they truly wanted to escape there were ways. He'd heard of a mage resisting not one or even two sigils, but five. He knew it brought pain, but if one truly wished to fight it... But he understood the girl's reluctance as well. These were likely people she knew, people who had shared her circumstances, terrible as they'd been. 

“If you were still bound, would you want to remain that way? Killing people you knew, people you had shared meals with? Or would death be a mercy?”

Fragile fingers brushed against a collar adorned with a large pink stone, “I am still bound. I've been ignoring the pain.”

The older girl gasped, “For how long?!”

“Since that night at the forester’s cabin.”

“Ana! That was almost a week ago!”

Mirren felt a sudden sense of awe, his respect for the girl growing. He knew how bad the pain could get, he'd seen mages staggering into Aarov fighting a command, he'd watched mages having their sigils removed, had smelled the burnt flesh, heard their screams. And she had been fighting similar pain for a week?! He looked closer, truly seeing her for the first time and saw the tightness of her features, the strain of keeping the pain hidden.

“If you can fight the pain, they can too. But they're not. We must at least incapacitate them so they cannot follow us. And I would rather not leave them wounded, unable to travel, still suffering.”

Analie nodded, leaning into Corsha for support. Mirren drew his sword before carefully approaching the pair and taking a knee.

“Analie, can you overload the sigils to even my odds? I will do my best to save the mages if I am able. If they choose freedom and can resist the pain until we reach Aarov, I will bring them with us, okay?”

Before he could react, Corsha reached for his blade and gripped it tight, blood beginning to flow, “Ana, use mine this time. You’ve used enough of yours.”

Mirren watched as the older girl pried open the younger’s bloody fist and he realized how the girl could sense their pursuers, how she would be able to overload their sigils. She was a blood mage. 

Blood magic still carried a stigma, even in Aarov but Mirren couldn't bring himself to fear the child before him. She could be powerful enough to kill with a gesture but instead she showed concern for the wellbeing of those sent to kidnap or kill her. She'd bought his trust and her safety, paid for it with her own blood and pain. 

“Disable them and stay here. I'll be right back.”

Delicate fingers trailed through the blood pooling in Corsha's palm and then the night filled with screams, “Two mages, adult but young. The rest…”

“Understood. I'll get them out.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------

When they got underway again, it was on horseback. The three horses their pursuers had brought were in poor condition from the harsh treatment along the way, but they were willing enough to carry the five of them. 

Analie kept the two mages they'd recovered unconscious for the remainder of their trip. Using so much of her power was exhausting even if her companions volunteered their blood. The trip to Aarov passed in a blur of sleep and exhaustion. 

Soon the walls of the city loomed over them, large and intimidating. Mirren smiled as he looked up at them, “Almost home.”

They approached the gate, oddly closed despite the midday hour and Mirren called to the guards on the wall, “Open up already! It's me!”

The guard manning the gate shifted nervously before calling back, his voice thin and nervous, “The viscount has ordered no entry until he has rid his city of mages and their supporters.”

Corsha's arms tightened around her and Analie heard her whisper, “Oh no…”

This city was their hope, their safety, their new home. What were they supposed to do now?