Gareth Ashford's Arc

Chapter 8 of 9

The fire burned low. Thornwood slept under the lean-to, his breath steady now. Gareth sat outside, turning a problem he could not cut with a sword. Grimwold's manor meant debt or death. The guild bounty waited behind that gate. He needed another road home. Snikka crouched across the fire, watching him. She knew the forest better than any map. She had not offered to help him pass. "You know the back trails," Gareth said. "The ones Grimwold's guards don't walk." "I know all of them." Snikka picked at the dirt with one of her daggers. The blade caught the firelight, red runes glowing along the steel. "Why would I lead you through them?" "Because I'm asking." She shook her head. "Not enough. You keep your mouth shut about everything that matters. I don't guide a man I don't know." She pointed the dagger at him. "Why do you fight, Gareth? Not for coin. I've watched you give coin back." Gareth stared at the flames. He had told no one. The words had lived in his chest for a year. But Snikka had saved his life in the plant field. She had killed bandits at his side. He let it out. "My village is cursed," he said. "Every winter solstice, one newborn turns to stone. A baby. Every year." His voice went rough. "My father died in debt and couldn't help them. I left to find coin and a cure. That's the whole of it. That's why I take the jobs no one else will." The fire popped. Snikka set her dagger down. She did not speak right away. When she did, her voice had lost its edge. "A child," she said. "Every year." "Every year." She looked at him for a long moment. Something shifted in her yellow eyes. She had ridden with crews who left her bleeding in the road. She had trusted men who sold her. This one had waited her out instead of grabbing, had cut her chains, had bound an enemy's wound with gentle hands. Now she knew why. "You should have told me that at the start," she said quietly. She rose and came around the fire. She sat beside him, close, her shoulder against his. "I'll take you past Grimwold. There's a deer trail north of the manor. His guards never use it. We can reach the eastern road from there." "You're sure?" "I'm sure." She held his gaze. "I don't help many people, Gareth. I'm helping you." Her hand found his. "A man who fights to save babies he'll never meet. I didn't think men like you were real." Gareth felt the knot in his chest ease. He had a road now. And he was not walking it alone. Then Snikka stiffened. Her ears twitched. Boots crunched the brush beyond the firelight. A heavy axe scraped a tree. Armor creaked in the dark. Someone had found the camp.