Lia’s hands trembled as she reached into her pouch and withdrew the Cruciger orb. Where is Edmon? she thought. Is he alive? The spindles spun and then pointed the direction of Muirwood. Where is Marciana? she queried next. The spindles pointed a different way - to the east. Away from Muirwood. Away from Bridgestow. Her hope crumpled. She had one last question for it. Where is Dieyre?

The spindles straightened, pointing directly in the path they were going.

Colvin studied her face, saw the flush in her cheeks.

“We are sailing into a trap,” Lia whispered. “Dieyre awaits us.”

The woods looked empty, but she knew it was a deception. Once they left the boat, the trap would spring.

Colvin turned back to Pen-Ilyn. “We cannot go this way. Follow the current, but keep clear of the shore.”

He looked at them, confused. “What are you saying? We are almost there.”

“We will die if you leave us there. Follow the water, along the shore.”

“But…”

“Just do it!” Colvin snapped at him. He pointed. “That way!”

Pen-Ilyn frowned and gritted his teeth, pulling even harder on the oars. He had not changed direction. The dock was getting closer.

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“What are you doing?” Lia demanded. “Pen-Ilyn?” She saw the determination in his face.

His voice was dark. “You paid me a great deal to wait for you and row you back. But he will pay even more to bring you back to him. What happens to you then is not my concern.” His eyes leveled at Colvin. “If you think you can knock me down, you might be mistaken. If you stand, I will jerk the boat and you will end up in the water. Believe me, you will. I know you are a maston too and it is against your kind to murder. He did not want you dead only captured. Ah, I see them now.”

Lia looked back at the shoreline and saw the horses emerging from the trees. They came as a wall, at least fifty mounted knights lining the shore. It was easy to spot Dieyre, so loose and confident in the saddle. The men bore the standards of the Queen Dowager.

“Please,” Lia said, crossing one of the benches to get closer to Pen-Ilyn. “You do not understand what is happening. You do not know who we are.”

“I do not have to know,” he said back simply. “Simply put, I would rather not. Come no closer, lass. If you reach for your blade, I will jerk the boat. Then you will be swimming.”

Lia clenched her teeth. “If he betrayed us, he will betray you as well. He promised you a reward, but did he pay it? Did he trust you enough? Please, Pen-Ilyn. I am Pry-rian, as you are. So is she. You cannot betray your own blood.”

He snorted, but he did not stop pulling the oars. “I am not an honest man. I help people avoid the taxes. I will ask for my coin before we berth. But if your knight tries to stop me, I will swear you will…”

Lia lunged, smashing the heel of her palm into his nose. Blood spurted as he flailed backwards. He choked and moaned and she jammed her elbow into his gut and wrenched the oars away from him. Colvin was stumbling past Ellowyn to help and she thrust the oars at him.

Pen-Ilyn wailed with pain, unable to speak through the blood. He tried to sit up, but Lia shoved him down again. “If you try anything else, it will be you with the fishes,” she threatened. “Then you can swim back to Pry-Ree. Row westward, Colvin. Keep going west. They will follow us along the coast, but once we reach the Bearden Muir, their horses will be a disadvantage to them and the boat a help to us. There are waterways that criss-cross the swamp.”

The look adoration and gratitude Colvin gave her nearly made her blush. She reached for her bow and pulled in an arrow from her quiver. She stood up to her full height on the swooning boat and looked at the Earl of Dieyre who watched them intently. Raising the bowstock, she let the arrow fly at him.

It stuck in the earth right in front of him. A warning. As Colvin pulled on the oars and shifted the direction of the boat westward, she remained standing, the bow held in defiance. Dieyre did not move. He only watched. But she knew he would hunt them.

* * *

Lia knew all the rivers within the Bearden Muir. The first one was called the Comb and they passed it, knowing it would be the first boundary that would seriously challenge Dieyre’s men. The second was called the Brent and it was wide and shallow. During the winter, it flooded the lowlands the most, creating little islands that could only be connected by rafts or on horseback. She wanted something wide, something that would make it easier to move quickly. However, its greatest benefit was that it connected to the Belgeneck, the largest river in the Hundred – the one that formed one of the borders to Muirwood. If they could pass the Comb and make it to the Belgeneck, there would be no way that Dieyre could reach them fast enough. Their horses would need rest. A boat did not.




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