Still fuming with her own stupidity, Deirdre stomped out of the cave, nearly forgetting to check the surroundings before crawling over the big shielding rock in front of it. It had stopped snowing, but there was enough there to make sure it would take at least another day or two to melt - if it would start to thaw. The temperature was still below freezing.
She was already halfway down the path to the timberline and she never realized what a beautiful day it was. The sky was an endless stretch of blue over the sparkling, snow-covered rocks and boulders that dotted the mountainside. The air fresh and crisp, giving her cheeks a rosy blush. None of it penetrated her anger and her worry. Her feet carried her robot like to her message box, the old oak with the hollow at its foot.
The few messages were not urgent and she tucked the jug of ale in her haversack, together with the small bag of flour and a piece of cloth. Gifts in return for the last batch of medicines she had left there. With a sigh she brushed the snow of a fallen tree in the vicinity and sat down. Suddenly sad she looked around her. She would miss this all terribly.
The thought shocked her. She had not even consciously contemplated leaving the area, but it could easily come to that. The idea to stick it out in the cave till the snow was gone, was no longer a good one. She would never be able to get Rory down the mountain without him noticing where the cave was. So there was no point in keeping him hidden any longer. He could walk back on his own two legs. That meant she had to abandon her safe haven.
Leaving the cave would hurt, maybe even more than leaving the house had. She had found the cave by accident when running from the priests for the first time. Scared and cold she had crawled inside the tunnel, only venturing deeper inside the mountain after she had come back from the village the next week.
She smiled as she thought back. Following the tunnel inside the mountain, she had come upon a big cavern. The funny part had been, that is was a furnished place. Carpets on the floor, there was a fireplace and it looked very much inhabited. She had no idea who could be living there, but it had scared her to know there lived someone on the mountain without the people in the village knowing it.
Next time she needed a safe place, she had hesitated for only a moment before creeping into the tunnel again. The memories made her shiver, even after so many years. The cave had not been empty then. He had been there. He had been living there and it almost looked as if he had been waiting for her.
Johan, I still miss you.
He never told her how he came to be living there, only that he had needed a hideout after deserting his unit. He had been sick of being a mercenary. At first it had been exiting, leaving his own corner of the world, seeing other cities, other countries even. After a few years he had been less eager and with every new contract he had felt more reluctance, till the last one. They had hired out to a man of the church and before they knew it, they were hunting down so called heretics and witches.
Johan had confided in her, told her he was not even catholic. He came from across the sea, where a lot of people were rebelling against the Mother Church. They called themselves Lutherans after a priest who had openly criticized the clergy. He had fled his contract, not wanting to fulfill it.
Johan had been good to her. She had fallen in love with him almost right from the start. He had been so different with his blond hair and the startling blue eyes, the funny accent he had and the way he had treated her. No fear there, not Johan. They had been so happy, even though they had to hide it. She had managed to sneak to the cave for close to every night since she lived alone in the cottage by then.
She sighed. It had not lasted very long, no more than a few months. One night she had found the cave empty and the nights after that as well. Finally she had heard a rumor about a deserter that was caught on the other side of the mountain. He had been hanged as an example to others. Careful questioning had confirmed her fears that it was Johan. Not long after she had fled to the cave to live permanently in his hideout. And now, now she was forced to leave again.
Think, Deirdre, where can you go? It was no use, thinking back to better times. She had to find a solution for the mess she was in. She thought it highly unlikely that Rory would back off. Now that he had finally tasted the pleasures of a woman's body, she suspected he would want more. She had no intention of going along, however, no matter how long it had been, she would not be sleeping with him again. Therefore, she had to get out. He would not leave her be and she could not rely on him to keep her secret.
Without realizing it she had been sitting there for a long time. Her feet were getting cold and her bottom was a little damp. She fished the messages out again and had a second look. Tugging on a loose curl she studied them. The butcher's wife wanted her help for one of her daughters; the girl was coughing again. That should be no problem. Next was a tiny slip of paper telling her the merchant was leaving town for a few weeks. Since he was the one who wrote the messages for most of the village, she frowned. In the past it had never been a problem as old Duncan had been able to write as well, but Duncan was dead.
Damn that priest!
If he had not been there, maybe she could have been on time for the old man.
Deirdre got up and brushed her skirts. She had calmed down now and for a moment she considered descending all the way to visit the village. Just in time however, she remembered the troops she had seen the night before. If they were still searching for Rory, she had better stay out of sight. Shit, that meant she would not be able to have a word with the merchant either. Leaving a return message was no use. He would not come back because he would not expect something and there was no one else who could read.
Pursing her lips in frustration, Deirdre started climbing up again. Her footsteps left a clear trail but she could only hope no soldiers would be coming up this high. The path was nearly invisible and with snow covering the track it was non-existent if you didn't know it was there. She hoped they had no reason to start a thorough search of the mountainside. To be on the safe side, she took the same route back however, climbing along the edge of the ravine, hiding her tracks as best as she could.
Back at the cave, she stood for a moment inside the entrance tunnel. Looking out over the mountains, she tried to visualize her next home. Where could she go to find a safe place? She sighed and, not for the first time, wished she could have returned with Johan to his country. She took off her boots and placed them side-by-side near the entrance to the big cavern. Her coat went to its place on the hook-like protuberance of stone above the boots. She smiled at the sight, so much like a normal hallway and yet so different.
Although she knew Rory would be waiting for her, his reaction startled her nonetheless. The minute she stepped inside the cavern, he jumped out of the big chair in front of the fire and approached her almost eagerly. Not sure what she could expect, Deirdre eyed him a bit warily. She had promised herself not to give in to him again and she was determined to stick to that resolve.
His face did not look like he had more plays of the flesh in mind. She studied him in more detail and noticed the red rims of his eyes, the tired slant to his shoulders. His hands grasped each other in a nervous gesture and he kept twisting his fingers.
"I'm glad you're back. We need to talk." He realized he still did not know her name. For a moment he thought about what was said about names in the
Witches' Hammer.
"Demons could be controlled if you knew their real name."
Could the same be true of witches? She
