The Girl with the Scar (Dark Connection Saga Book 1) Page 3

  With that, the door closed behind him, leaving the two women in the kitchen. Thick black smoke rose up the chimney, and the wood cracked in the flame. Eva braced herself for her mother’s assault.

  “You will learn some respect, young lady,” her mother said, half smiling and picking up their bowls. She took her time making it to the pot of soup that hung above the flame, holding the small of her back.

  Eva grinned. “It’s impossible to learn when there’s no one to teach me.”

  “Hush, child.” Maria scooped a spoonful of the vegetable soup into both of the bowls, and then she placed them on the table. “No matter how you feel, you can’t treat a Kibitzer like that. What if he did not come to warn us that the star had fallen? Then what would we do?”

  “I may just be too hard-headed to have a brown nose, like some people.”

  Maria shook her finger at her, slurping her soup. “A brown nose might just smell a rose.”

  With a disgusted look on her face, she replied, “I think you can keep those roses.”

  Maria burst into a silent laughter, spraying soup across the table and into Eva’s bowl while some leaked down her chin. Eva pushed her bowl to the center of the table. “I think I’m done,” she said.

  “I’m sorry,” Maria replied, dabbing the table with her dingy napkin. “You’re a darling when you want to be, but you’d better watch that mouth of yours.”

  The ladies were quiet for a moment, and Eva fiddled with her spoon. “What are we going to do…about what Jahn said?”

  “It’s Sir Jahn to you,” Maria warned. “I don’t know. If the star is right, then the Raiders will be at our part of the river within a few months.”

  “What if he’s wrong?”

  Placing her napkin back in her lap, she rolled her eyes slowly at her daughter. “Then he wouldn’t be a Kibitzer.”

  Hearing that, Eva felt sick. Her stomach knotted, and the bit of soup that she had eaten seemed to be all at once too filling. “You think they’ll come here?”

  “With the death of Tyel, I fear that the Raider scouts may have already arrived.” Maria grabbed the sides of her head with one hand, massaging her temples and sighing. “Why did they have to kill him, of all people?” The tears returned to her eyes. “He would never hurt anyone, not that man.”

  “I don’t think a man could do that,” Eva replied.

  Shaking her head and fighting back the tears, Maria said, “The Raiders aren’t men. They’re savages, blinded by their lust for blood and death. If anyone could have done this to him, it would have to be them, and that foolish brother of yours goes off to fight them. I hope to the gods that he survives.”

  “He’s going to need more than the gods. You saw how well they worked out for Father.”

  Maria glared at her through her tears that sparkled from the fire. “Don’t you dare speak that way in my home.”

  “I won’t speak it, but you can’t stop me from thinking it.”

  Ignoring Eva’s reply, Maria cut her eyes over to the empty bucket of water, kicked over by the panic from the other day. “We’re out,” she said dryly, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

  “What does that have to do with me?” Eva asked.

  “We need more.”

  Eva's voice cracked. “You would have me go to the river and be slaughtered?”

  “The gods know that if I could go in your stead, I would be there, but my back won’t allow it. Now is better than any. The Raider scout has probably gone back, and the Raiders are far from us. Besides, you’ll be the first to hear the news from Water Walkers.”

  With the same intonation, she replied, “I don’t care about the news. I care about my life! You can’t possibly be serious about me going up there alone, not with the Raiders looking for me. Send somebody else.”

  “Who else can I send? Tyel is dead, and your brother has abandoned us. We would never see the water from the other people of the town. They’d probably sell it at a higher price from half the distance. If you don’t go, we won’t have water for another two weeks, and I don’t think we could last that long.”

  Eva closed her eyes and bit her lip, trying to keep her jaw from trembling. Tears made their way between her eyelids and dripped down her cheeks when she opened her eyes. Her mother was right, but there had to be another way. “Can’t we pay a merchant?”

  “Five king’s copper for his services and four for the water! Our purse is light enough as it is.”

  Eva searched hopelessly for a way out. “Shouldn’t I wait a few more days for the scout to be as far away as possible?”

  Maria wiped the sides of her mouth, though she hadn’t eaten any more soup. “When your father was alive and fighting with the Strikers, you were just a little girl at the time, he used to tell me how he would warn the villages. He said that the scouts never went back to their ranks for fear that they’d be followed, but they hid out, waiting for the Raiders to come, then the scouts would report back to their leader.”

  There was no comfort in what her mother said. Eva fixed her hair and mumbled, “Mother, I'm afraid.” It came out as a whisper. She knew that her mother couldn't go, not with the pain in her back, and they had to have water. There was no way out of this.

  “Genevieve, the scouts know that our people are looking for them. They wouldn’t want to show their heads around here, not for days.” She massaged her daughter’s hair. “You’ll be fine. What did your brother used to say whenever he’d take you with him?” She smiled sweetly.

  “Stay on road,” Eva sighed.

  “Just go straight there, and come right back.”

  Eva’s legs felt stiff as she walked blankly to door. She grabbed the rusted metal handle on the wooden bucket and stood at the threshold. The fear of the scouts made her weak, nearly pushing the spoonful of soup back up her throat.

  Maria got up from her chair, bracing herself on the table as she stood. Once the stiffness ebbed away, she stepped to Eva and hugged her, pressing her daughter’s face against her chest. Grabbing Eva’s bark-colored leather coat that hung near the door, Maria draped it around her daughter. “Don’t be afraid. Nothing’s going to happen to you.” She kissed her, and Eva left.

  CHAPTER 3

  THE RIVER

  The door closed heavily behind Eva, shutting her out. She drifted down the stairs to the road and headed towards the intersection where Tyel had been murdered. Towering cedars enclosed her town. To the left was the hill that sloped down to the eight other cabins. The road in front of her led to the mill, and the road to the right guided her east to the river.

  Her legs moved before her mind commanded them, and the cool breeze whipped her milk-colored dress as she started up the trail. The crisp autumn air brought with it the squawking of the crows. The rustling of the dying leaves from the trees felt distant and out of place, reminding her that summer had long since passed.

  She crossed between the Vice, the entrance of the village where the road divided the trees on either side, and the trail became less defined, allowing shoots of dead grass to enter the path. The sun shone above her, but the warmth was forced, not having the same intensity that she had felt only two months prior.

  Along the road, people hurried past her either coming or going. She looked to find someone who might be going to the river, but that day had already come when Edward went with the group a few days before.

  The rusted handle from the bucket pressed firmly into the skin in her palm, and she switched the bucket to her other hand, giving her arm some rest. The splintered pail banged against the same place in her calf with every step, making the area tender and irritated. How was she going make it back when the bucket was full?

  Approaching the clearing in the trees, the trail split in three directions. The left went north, the right traveled south, and the one ahead brought her to the river. The people who passed her on the way veered off either to the left or the right, and no one traveled with her forward.

  It was now past noon, and she was alone w
ith only the sun to guide her. If she hurried, she could make it home by nightfall. Increasing her steps, she trudged along through the soft grass where slightly visible slithers of dirt remained, marking out her path to the east.

  Stay on the road, she reminded herself. The grass brushed against her boots, and the forest stood in front of her as she traveled beyond the planes, alone. She could feel her heart in her throat as she approached the woods.

  Trees, devoid of leaves, bent over the path like claws, and the wind whistled through the trail, caressing her knuckles like the unwelcomed touch of a man. Bumps appeared on her skin from the cold and from the dread. What if this was where the scout was hiding?

  She walked faster, boots grinding into the soft dirt as she closed her coat over her chest. She wanted to run, but she didn’t want the thud of the bucket to bring undue attention to her. The path sloped down slightly, and she leaned back to keep her balance as she trekked over the protruding roots.

  Her breaths came in spurts, and a cooling mist escaped her lips. The skin on her legs, beneath her dress, felt tight from the long journey and from the chill. She loosened her grip on the handle to let blood back into her white knuckles.

  “It’s just my mind. No one’s here. Stay on the road.” She practiced her mantra aloud, chapped lips sticking together.

  The woods extended farther than she could see. Why did she agree to come? She could have stayed home. She could have talked her mother out of it. What were a few more pieces of king’s copper? She would have paid twice as much if she never had to make this trip alone again.

  She placed the bucket on the ground for a moment, leaning over and stretching her fingers. To her right, a sound interrupted the silent forest. She snapped her head around to see, eyes flicking to and fro. Grabbing the bucket, she kept her eyes pasted to her right, searching.

  She picked up her dress with her free hand and scurried along the path, nearly running. The sound did not return, but she staid her haste, not looking back.

  Before long, the King’s Extension came into view, which was filled with gravel in both directions. She glanced up and down the road, and then she hopped across, hurrying along, hoping that none of the king’s men were traveling along, watching.

  Continuing on, the forest gave way to another clearing as she escaped the woods with the fear of the scout still clunking around in her chest.

  The breeze rushed past, unimpeded by the woods that once surrounded her. The ground became softer, and the air was cooler. The river was another three days away, but she had arrived to the Connect, the market where the Water Walkers roamed.

  As she approached, murmurs interrupted the forest’s deathly silence. Merchants with thick wolf pelts hanging around their shoulders traveled up and down the clearing, following behind brightly painted wheel barrels that held their delicious meats and cheeses.

  “Duck, milady?” asked one of the merchants who stood as tall as she. He was nearly her mother’s age, and his wheel barrel was loaded with meats wrapped in cloth and tied with string.

  Thoughts of the scout sifted away through her mind, replaced by the sweet smell of freshly cut meat and the tangy scent of cheese that she could nearly taste on her tongue as she inhaled. Placing her hand in her satchel, she fumbled around mindlessly for coins.

  “Are you a silent, madam?” asked the merchant, leaning his head in front of her eyes so that she could read his lips.

  She shook her head quickly. “No,” she muttered.

  “Well if you’re thinking about buying some delicious, smoky flavored duck meat, then you’ve found the right one. My birds are killed quickly and drained before the mortis sets in. No gritty or game flavor. Only the smooth, tasty, tender meat that you and your family will enjoy.”

  “I…how much?” She pulled her coat closed, lost in the reverie of flavor.

  The man looked her up and down, readjusting his straight brown hair so that it all fell down his back. His face was smooth, fitting for a merchant. “I don’t cut my birds. It kills the flavor. Two king’s silver is the—”

  “Two silver!” She stepped back, absorbing the blow. “That’s—”

  “But for a lady like you,” now he was sweet talking her, jiggling his eyebrows up and down, “I do accept other forms of payment.”

  “What! No!” She clenched the handle of her bucket and started away from him.

  The merchant grabbed her wrist, forcing her to face him. No one at the Connect paid her any attention. “Then perhaps you’ll give me what you have at no cost to me.”

  “Let me go!” She jerked her wrist away and shoved him, but he barely moved. The people just watched. He grabbed her and licked the side of her face, leaving a streak of thick saliva on her cheek.

  Flailing, she beat him back, but he was too strong. He wrestled her to the ground and kissed her.

  “Get off her, Grange!” yelled a powerful voice. A solid boot rammed into the merchant’s ribs, sending him flying off Eva.

  Grange landed on his back, and a sturdy man, wearing a white wolf pelt around his shoulders, stomped over to Grange and rammed his foot into Grange’s face.

  The sturdy man stepped back to Eva and reached down to pick her up. She brushed herself off, and she had to look up to see the man’s face. His hands were thick and rough, but his lips were even and thin. The lines on his cheeks aimed down to his mouth, pointing at his slight smile.

  “He didn’t hurt you did he?” the man asked, glancing back to Grange who was still on the ground, holding his face. The man spat on Grange, wiping away the excess saliva.

  “Only my dignity.”

  “Nothing more painful than that!” He kicked the Grange across the face again, emphasizing his words on the impact.

  Eva looked away, not being able to handle the blood that leaked from Grange’s mouth, and she shuddered as he hyperventilated, after finding his tooth missing.

  “What’s your name, madam?” asked the man, reaching down to take her bucket from her.

  She held on tightly, but he tugged it away, and she stopped resisting him. “Genevieve,” she said, pushing back her auburn hair.

  “I saw,” he said smiling, showing his teeth that were lined like white robed soldiers, “that you were interested in some duck and cheese.”

  She leaned her eyes over into his wheel barrel, which had only a few items remaining, a bottle of wine, some tobacco, and several brass bulbs that must have been inkwells. “You don’t seem to have those items. Besides, two king’s silver is a bit too steep.”

  The man reached into his barrel and pulled out an empty sack, and then he grabbed two ducks from Grange’s barrel and stuffed them inside. He browsed through Grange's cheeses, flipping through the cheddars. Then he grinned when he found one hunk that was tied in fabric neatly with two strings.

  “Barachi,” he smiled, turning the cheese over a few times. His fingers made tiny indentions in the block, and he shoved the cheese into the bag also. “This is the best cheese in the land, made from the milk of the Baras and smoked in a tree limb hoisted over a flame.”

  Eva waved frantically, turning down the offer. “I can’t afford this.”

  “Get out of my stock!” Grange barked through gurgles of blood.

  The hefty man turned towards Grange, about to boot him again.

  “Stop!” Eva pleaded, touching the man on his vein-lined forearm.

  The man turned back and nodded, resting his foot in the soft soil. “Jevar. That’s my name, but I’m known as White Wolf.”

  “Jevar.” She swirled the name around on her tongue like a sweet treat, pondering. “Well, Jevar, I can’t take these items. I’ll barely be able to get this water back on my own.”

  Wolf motioned for her to follow him as he walked towards the Water Walkers. “One bucket for Genevieve,” Jevar said, his voice as thick and sweet as molasses.

  The walker wore a red dress with sparkling, reflective oval-shaped glasses decorating her shoulders and the hems so that when the sun touched th
e ovals, the rays bounced out, signaling to the travelers that the walkers were near.

  This particular walker was scooping up water from her cart that was lined with metal in the back so that the water would not spill out. She passed out the buckets and took the coins from the travelers who swarmed around her.

  “That’ll be four king’s copper,” she said as she turned. Her face was as bright as the reflective glasses, but her beautiful eyes fell victim to Wolf's handsomeness. She fixed her dress and adjusted her headband that draped down her back, only exposing a few strands of her frizzy blonde hair, dried out by the cool autumn air.

  “I would gladly pay more,” he said, propping his hand on his hefty leather belt that disappeared underneath the wolf pelt.

  Her eyes flitted away. “Nonsense. Four will suffice.”

  Wolf stepped back to Grange who was finally on his feet. Without being told, Grange pulled out four king’s copper and dropped them into Jevar’s hand.

  “Now leave these young women alone. This will be the last time that I warn you about your lasciviousness.”

  Grange grabbed the handles of his wheel barrel and hurried away, blood still leaking from the corners of his mouth.

  Wolf stepped back to the woman, grabbed her hand, and placed the coins neatly into her palm. “Four king’s copper,” he said.

  The woman stuck the coins into her satchel, which was bundled up at the front of the cart. After brushing off her crimson dress, she offered her hand to Eva. “Don’t believe that I’ve had the pleasure,” she said.

  Eva nervously shook her hand, letting her coat fly open. The breeze swirled in, icing her sides and her back. “Genevieve.”

  “I’m Stasis. I suppose you’d like to know the business of the road.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The business of the road. The news. That’s why people come to us. It’s not just about the water, you know.”