22. The Middle of Nowhere…
Francesca
I stared into the bushes surrounding the trail. There was nothing to see really. We were currently on the edge of the plains – a gaping hole in the middle of Aerien where there were no decent sized settlements anywhere. The land was flat, and empty except for the scrub and grass. We were literally in the middle of nowhere. “Where are we?” Luke asked.
“Look at the map and see,” Rowan’s voice echoed back to me snappishly, “The Trace should give you our coordinates.”
I heard Luke sigh and rummage through the pack on his saddle. We’d stopped in Atway about two days ago and gotten rid of the wagon, so now I was being forced to ride. Based on that and the fact that Rowan had decided to forgo the strip of arable land that cut through the plains because there were too many settlements, I guessed that we were a decent day’s journey south of Raceland by now.
Following close behind Luke, I saw that he had pulled out the tattered piece of paper they called a map and was carefully looking at it. “South of Raceland,” I heard him mutter. I nodded my head in agreement, satisfied that my reasoning had been correct. “Where in hell is Raceland?”
“It’s southeast of Saffron,” I remarked from behind him, remembering my geography lessons from previous years, and he turned in his saddle to glare at me.
“I know that,” he snapped angrily, “I was noting that it was in the middle of nowhere.” I silently agreed with him but hid it behind a sneer. “Bridget’s almost a day’s travel ahead of us!” he continued petulantly and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Ever since Bridget had been captured that was all we had heard about from him. Bridget this and Bridget that. Not to mention the fact that he had connected himself semi-permanently to her mind to make it easier for us to track her.
He urged his horse into a gallop and pulled away from me. Cathy urged her horse past mine and readily caught up with him. She bent her head toward his and began to speak in a low voice to him. He turned his head and I saw him nod, glancing back at me repeatedly. I wished desperately I could hear them. Finally, Luke nodded to something Cathy had said and Cathy dropped back behind me again.
I had now been a prisoner for five days. I’d learned a lot about the group I was travelling within that time. The fact that there was no one else to interact with made it hard not to learn things about them. And I wasn’t as keen to escape as I had been when they had first captured me either. As far as I was concerned, they would take me where I needed to go. They would help me find Aurora and then she’d answer my questions.
In the five days since I had been discovered eavesdropping at the window I’d changed. Changed so that I no longer knew where my allegiances lay. On the one hand, I owed everything to the Magicians – they had raised me and taught me everything I knew. On the other hand, while I owed them nothing, the group had taught me things I would never have dreamed of.
Cathy had been right. The slaves were people with feelings and thoughts. If anything, the small band of friends I was travelling with proved it. After all, they had all been slaves at one point. Being with them had made me realize that, if nothing else. And it intrigued me that they could be so free, so full of hope even after being imprisoned their whole lives. But I was still confused. I had decided that I needed the full story of their escape to fully understand… the true story. Yet I didn’t think anyone would tell it to me except Cathy and I didn’t particularly want to ask her about it after our last discussion.
I sighed to myself. Why don’t you suck it up and just ask her? I asked myself, Because you’re afraid of what the words will tell you. You’re afraid that they’ll tell you you’ve been wrong all these years. Besides, Cathy was too discerning and I didn’t want to inadvertently give her more information than I already had. With a rising heart, I realized I still had the notes I had taken at the Scriptorium the day before I had been abducted. I could use Magic now because Rowan had decided it was a waste of time to keep on putting Witch-weed in my hair after the third day but only after I’d made an Oath not to try to escape or to use magic to intentionally harm anyone in the company. Summoning a small amount of power I reached into the Other-Space I had created only days before to keep my notes safe from prying eyes.
I pulled out Aurora’s folder first, sifting through it. A leaf of paper floated out of it. I quickly sending the rest of the folder back into the Other-Space and grabbed for the paper before it drifted away. Realizing that I couldn’t ride and read at the same time, I set a Hound on my mount so it would follow the horse in front of it. Then holding the paper carefully I started to read.
Dear Magicians (Or whomever it may interest),
You know nothing about me. Do you want the truth about what really happened the night my Squadron and I escaped? I don’t suppose you do, but who’s going to look in these folders anyway? If I could I would destroy the entire folder, but it seems that is impossible. In the meantime, I suppose it would do no harm to tell you, the High and Mighty of our land, the truth about our escape.
Gregory, the Slaver you sent my Squadron to because I was “difficult” to control, was a most vile and disgusting man, and it is my regret to inform you that he is dead by no fault but his own. I regret it, but what was I to do? He was torturing one of my dearest friends. Before I knew what was happening I lost my temper and a Power surged through my veins at that beast. It killed him. Accidentally - I had no idea what I was doing. In the end, it does not matter. He is dead. That is the truth. It was no fault but his own that we escaped. While he was dying, we took the opportunity to leave. There, that is the truth about our escape.
We are far away now and have no wish to return to your rule. I warn you only because I am not like your corrupt government; we will hunt down every last Magician and Slaver and eradicate them from Aeirien alike. Beware, for when you least expect it I will bring you down.
Sincerely,
Slave 06392012
I finished the letter in surprise. It seemed unlikely that she had known how to write just weeks after her escape, so I guessed that it had been written more recently, probably within the past few years.
“What’s that?” Cathy asked me, coming up beside me and peering at the sheet of paper. I hastily crumpled it up but she grabbed my hand. “Where did you get that?” she demanded.
“That is none of your business,” I retorted.
“It is or you wouldn’t be hiding it from me,” she said simply. “Rowan!” she called, “I think you should come here!”
He came galloping back immediately. “What’s wrong?” he asked anxiously.
“I don’t know Rowan,” she answered, “I found Francesca reading this piece of paper – I think it’s Rory’s handwriting.”
“What?” Rowan looked extremely confused now. “Give me that piece of paper!” He reached over and wrenched it out of Cathy’s grip. His eyes scanned it frantically. “Where did you get this?” he demanded.
“It’s none of your business,” I snapped.
“It is or I wouldn’t be asking you! This could be dangerous in the wrong hands! I need to know if there’s another copy of this!”
I glared at him with narrowed eyes. “What if I won’t tell you?” I asked.
“Then we’ll force you to tell us!”
“Fine!” I snapped, “It was in her Slave file at the Scriptorium! She must have put it there. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you,” I jibed.
Rowan shook his head. “Cathy it’s fine. It’s just a note . . .” He turned his horse and pushed his way to the front of the procession once more. Cathy stared at me a moment longer then she let her horse fall into step beside me.
“So how do you like this?” she asked calmly, gesturing around us, but I could hear the strain in her voice.
“Oh, it’s beautiful,” I replied, falling silent.
I hated how they tried to cover up things they didn’t want me to know. Without warning, I felt a wave of anger and frustration roll over me. I needed to get out of here; if I didn’t, I was going to go insane.
ns 15.158.61.6da2
