Volume 5: What Was Left Behind
Chapter 2 - Echos
"From the ground came trees and man. From the tree we took shelter and warmth and glue, a place to play and the means to make tools and weapons which we selfishly used against our fellow humanoids. The humble tree even remembers when we used its life to steal others' and it continues to give of itself.
Trees helped us free up the time we spent hunting and gathering, allowed us to dream and with proper engineering, sail upon the winds. But I ask you, what did we give it in return?"
-Captain J. A. Lace
Logbook of the Crystal Lotus (Reg. Freestates of Estan)
Sarah
Never one to get seasick, the trundling and bobbing of the noble's carriage they- she- had stolen from Sorash had Sarah hanging half out the window with eyes closed and deep gulps of air pushing their way through her throat by sheer force of their speed.
The road was treacherous and rocky, packed down by decades of caravans that never seemed to quell the subtle forces by which the dirt managed to push up rocks and other debris. Every clash of horse hoof or steel rimmed wheel saw the carriage victorious but Sarah's stomach rolling. She'd vomited once, but no one noticed. Not like there was time to slow down, anyway.
Caldion mushed the horses on harder, though he sounded regretful about it every time. There was no slowing down this night, though; the city's guards and soldiers would have gained their footing not long after the chaos of the previous morning died. Consu's men had slowed them down, they'd given her and her companions time to escape, but there was nothing that would come of it if they wasted that momentary advantage.
Her stomach was an acceptable casualty.
Vaguely Sarah heard Keiter and Tessarie arguing over something- probably their lack of food- but when Sarah drew herself in to the cabin, content she wasn't going to expel anything else, the air was thick with doubt moreso than hunger. The little kobold across from her was sitting cross legged with a length of rope tied around the doorframe, he clutched it like as safety harness but was no less jostled with every bounce the suspension couldn't compensate for.
Tess hugged a bundle of clothing she'd picked up in their last visit to her chest rocking feebly in the uncomfortable bench seat. She was much too young, even for an elf, to be dumped into this mess, but there was nothing that could be done about it now. Even if Sarah
had
the words to comfort her, they would've sounded rightfully hollow and meaningless coming from the lips of the person that had dragged her into the problem in the first place.
In lieu of having to articulate a lie neither of them would have believed, Sarah fished the bundle of papers from her coat pocket and slid them into the diminutive elf's hand. She laid her hand on the girl's shoulder and tried for her best smile- weak and pale as she must have looked, it seemed to have the desired effect; Tess relaxed visibly.
Then she started to read. Her eyes widened, disbelief and awe changed her expression from one of fear to one of resolute warmth and understanding. She was going home, Sarah was going to bring her there. As an ambassador of the diplomatic council on elven relations, Sarah looked all the world like the one half-blood who could help her.
But to Sarah, they were the best forgeries money could buy. They'd saved her life more than a few times and would likely do so in the future. But that didn't mean she couldn't bring the girl home en route to her next hiding place. It was only right, after all.
"This is not going to work forever," Keiter said in his typically dry tone. His muzzle was pointed directly at Sarah. It was something that they'd both recognized long ago. New circumstances hadn't changed that; horses got tired and caravan trails were frequently traversed lanes. The guards, possibly the knights, would catch up with them soon enough. If not on the road, when they rested.
"I know," Sarah mouthed in return. She didn't trust her voice.
The guards of Sorash weren't a particularly tenacious lot when it came to simple things like taxes and dues, but the way in which Sarah and company had left the city there was no doubt that they'd find the motivation- by whip or by coin- to go out of their way to bring her in. No doubt they'd try her for the murder of at least one noble before she was summarily executed, possibly with the others. That wouldn't do at all. It was all very uncouth. She was responsible for the death of one person. Exactly one. In all her life and she would deal with that in the fullness of time. . .
But under no circumstances would she hang for someone else's blood letting. She'd come too far to be someone's martyr or victim. Unless the dragon had engineered it that the Ace of Diamonds was going to make
her
look responsible for the death she'd left in her wake. It'd be suiting. Horribly ironic, but suiting. Now
she
was a tenacious one.
Elevating the concept of violence to an art form, the Ace of Diamonds was an assassin of world class repute from what Sarah had gathered. From what she'd seen with her own eyes, that was a terribly apt description. For all her flexibility and hard muscles she wasn't just a knife in the dark, she had the endurance to last and the power to destroy anything that stood in the way of her objective. She would be the real danger.
A very succulent, wonderful danger. But a danger all the same.
Sarah banged her head on the wall of the carriage when it bounced and let out a cruse in sphinx. She turned to voice her displeasure through the open window when she saw a farm down the hill. A snaking dirt trail lead to the low house and looked, for the most part, untouched by shear or sickle. The moonlight danced across its wood shingles like a halo, spraying patterns of blue across them through the trees. "Caldion!" She poked her head out of the cabin. "Caldion!"
When he didn't respond she pounded on the wall of the carriage. Nothing. She whistled sharply. He whipped his head around to look behind them, eventually he saw Sarah pointing. He gave her a quizzical, then dirty look.
