Memory Hunted (9 page)

"We have to move. We are too close to the road," Kit
whispered. "Quietly." She moved in a half crouch deeper into the woods. Timothy
felt his headache thump in time with his heart as he followed. Yuzu skulked on his
heels.

Kit weaved through the undergrowth, picking paths around
fallen branches. The rustle of leaves muffled by snow made Timothy grit his teeth.
Yuzu brushed against him. The forest floor angled upward, and Kit led them on a
deer trail. Timothy saw several prints in the snow.
Those look fresh. Maybe that
is what Kit heard. If there are deer nearby, Daeric can’t be—

A rock slipped from under his boot. Timothy landed hard
on his shoulder—hard enough to break the cord binding the heavy lantern to his pack.
The lantern rolled and clanked on rocks buried under the snow. The metallic peal
echoed through the frigid silence.

Yuzu stared down the hill with wide eyes. Kit stalked
down the slope. She offered Timothy her hand.

"Kit, I’m—" He heard it then. Snapping twigs and rustling
leaves coming toward them from below. Fast.

"I don’t know what I ever did to that lantern." Kit hoisted
Timothy to his feet. "They know where we are. Move it!"

Kit shoved him up the slope. Once back on the deer trail,
Kit set a faster pace. His shoulder ached, and exhaustion dragged his legs.
Kit
has to be more tired than I am. She’s been on constant alert since we fled.
Yuzu
labored behind him. They worked their way up and around the hill. Timothy couldn’t
hear anything beyond his breathing. Kit remained intent on the path forward, and
her ears darted to and fro. Timothy glanced behind.

Yuzu was gone.

He grabbed Kit’s cloak and pulled her short. She twisted.
"What?"

"Yuzu….gone." He closed his eyes against his burning
lungs and thumping heart.

"She’s been nothing but trouble." She turned back to
the trail and hesitated. "We have to keep going." She took a step forward, but Timothy
held on.

"Kit."

She whirled. "That girl is more annoying than that fool
lantern. I—"

"We can’t leave her. I won’t leave her."

"What’s she to you, Timmy? Is there something I don’t
know?"

"She’s your adopted sister, Kit."

"I didn’t adopt her. She adopted me."

"Does it matter? She knows what you are. Did she run
or yell when she saw your ears? No. She accepted you, same as I did."

Kit crossed her arms and frowned. Finally her arms dropped,
and she sighed. "You are right. Yuzu—" Kit leapt forward and threw Timothy aside.
He stumbled into a wide oak tree and twisted around.

A shape appeared from the trees.

Tell raised his palms. His eyebrows disappeared underneath
his bandana. "W….wait…"

Yuzu peaked around him. "Don’t, Sis. He came to help."

Kit held her knife in her fist. Tell’s wide eyes latched
onto it.

Her ears!
Timothy
tackled her.

"Get off. What are you—"

He tugged her hood over her ears.

Kit smashed her forehead into his nose. "Are you an idiot?
What if I’d stabbed you?" She sheathed the knife. "Do you want me that badly?"

Yuzu sighed and looked down on them with her hands on
her hips. "They are like this all the time."

Tell fidgeted. "D-Daeric has your trail. We should—"

"Why should we trust you?" Kit pushed Timothy aside and
scrambled to her feet.

Timothy let out a breath.
It looks like Tell didn’t
notice Kit’s ears. Maybe Yuzu has him too flustered.

Yuzu grabbed Tell’s arm. "He came to help me. Right?"
The boy blushed. She smiled up at him.

Timothy rolled his eyes.
Poor guy is going to have
to learn how to handle women better.

Tell bobbed his head. "I—I don’t want anything to happen
to you, Yuzy."

Kit pursed her lips and curled her nose. She shook her
head and glanced away.

"They are my family, but—but they are wrong. You didn’t
do anything so I—I decided to help you get away. I—"

"Do you know where to go?" Yuzu asked. "You are right,
Sis. Men do like to talk."

Tell nodded. "Belafonte is—is—"

"I won’t make the same mistake again. I am done with
this." Kit’s voice grew louder.

"Kit. Don’t." Timothy rubbed his forehead.

Tell paled. "I hear them. I don’t understand how—" Worry
edged his whisper.

Timothy swallowed. "Do you hear anything, Kit?"

Her hood rustled. "No, and I would if they were there.
He will lead us into a trap." She reached for her knife.

"Perhaps you should listen more closely."

Timothy whirled. Daeric stepped into the falling snow.
He held his stoat boar spear.

"I—I didn’t bring him, Yuzu. I wouldn’t do that to you,"
Tell said.

Timothy tensed.

Daeric’s hands tightened on his spear. "I tried to be
nice. I gave you a choice." He shook his head and walked toward them. "I am not
that type of man. But you refuse to see reason."

"You’re right." Kit bared her fangs. "I should have killed
you back at that inn."

Timothy fumbled for his belt knife.
Must it always
come down to fighting? I can’t fight.

Suddenly, Daeric twirled his spear in a arc. The
iron point whistled, and the flat side smashed into the side of Timothy’s head.
His knife flew from his hand and disappeared into the snow. Black pain engulfed
his senses, and he collapsed onto the snow. .His ears buzzed from the hit.
Slowly, the buzzing became the sound of curses and yelling. He flipped onto his
back and tested his jaw.

A few feet away, Daeric advanced on Kit. His
twirling spear forced Kit backward one step at a time toward until her back was
pinned against a tree. She deflected his thrusts with her belt knife.

"Stop this, Daeric," Tell shouted and waved his long
hunting knife. "You don’t have to do this."

Daeric’s spear stopped with its butt end angled at
Tell. "Jan won’t be happy to hear you helped them escape. I was going to
recommend you be Accepted, but I can’t trust you enough now."

"What you are doing is wrong," Tell said.

Daeric shrugged. "From where I stand, you are
wrong." He shook his head. "I just don’t see how you could betray your own
blood, Tell. I am disappointed in you."

Tell wilted under Daeric’s words. "But it’s not
right. Kit doesn’t want to be with you, and those soldiers didn’t do anything."

"You will understand when you are older. Last
warning. Stand aside."

Yuzu walked up beside Tell, holding a thick branch
in both hands. "I won’t let you talk to him that way. Tell is right."

Timothy grabbed a nearby bough and stood.

Daeric sighed theatrically. "I tried to reason. Now
I have to play the stern uncle."

 He whirled the spear against his side to brace it
and twisted, driving the butt in an arc toward Tell. Tell ducked under it at
the last moment, and the spear slammed into Yuzu’s makeshift club with a
resounding crack. The force of the impact shattered the thick branch and sent
Yuzu crashing to the ground.

Daeric planted his heel and allowed the momentum of
the swing to turn his body. Kit lunged at him just as he finished his pivot.
The sharp steel spearhead aimed straight at her.

Timothy took a wobbly step toward Kit.

Tell appeared and deflected the thrust downward with
his knife. Kit slipped around him and sliced the air with her knife, forcing
Daeric back a step.

Daeric flipped the spear upward, catching Tell in
the chin. Tell’s head jerked backward and he toppled to the ground.

Timothy took a another wobbly step toward Kit and
raised his stick. Daeric regarded him with slanted eyes. He shifted his hands
on the spear shaft. Blackness edged Timothy’s vision, and his ears rang. But he
kept moving toward. His hands sweated against the rough bark of his weapon.
I
have to help. I have—

Daeric’s spear thrust forward, and Timothy’s vision burst
into multicolored darkness.

"Three men are dead because of that man." Balwar brushed
a low-hanging limb out of his way. Rage seethed in his chest. That morning, they
had come across the remains of the patrol Tredere sent against Balwar’s suggestion.

"You need to take control of the camp." Dalton marched
with his halberd on his shoulder. About thirty soldiers fanned into the forest around
them. Balwar refused to be surprised.

"Would his soldiers listen to me?"

Dalton shrugged. "They will come around. You have the
authority. Besides, the boys are afraid of you, Inquisitor." Some of the men nearby
chuckled.

Dalton certainly isn’t helping my mystique.
But it is nice to be treated as a man instead of an Inquisitor.
"I am not
much of a leader."

"And what are we doing out here? Tredere looked like
he was going to bust you when we marched out with almost all the men." Dalton laughed.

"I—"

"What do you think, Andrew?" Dalton asked the man marching
in front.

"Tredere is a puffed-up coward. Don’t see him marching
out here."

"Mark?" Dalton asked.

"He just sits like he’s at home. The sooner we get done,
the better."

Balwar fingered his crucifix. "And if men die on my order?"

Dalton shrugged. "It’s in God’s hands, right?"

"Sir, the scout," Mark said.

A uniformed man rushed forward. Andrew and Mark stepped
aside. The scout saluted. "There is a building ahead. There doesn’t appear to be
anyone near."

Dalton slapped Balwar’s back. "Not bad for a guess. What’s
the order?"

Balwar staggered.
How did he ever make lieutenant?
He hesitated.

"I hear a ‘You have your orders, Lieutenant.’" Dalton
smiled.

"You have your orders, Lieutenant."

Dalton turned and barked orders, calling each man by
name.
Being an Inquisitor is different from being a soldier,
Balwar thought.
Men bustled around him.
I’d rather be chasing a witch than commanding men.
After
he and Guillermo had brought Tahd Valador to the Vatican, the Holy See had
given them only a day to rest. Guillermo, at least, was heading home. Not even Spain
was free from the Protestants.
It would be better than out in the end of nowhere.
But the fact the Holy See sent me out here shows how deeply the Pope is concerned
about Luther—if they are even involved with what is going on out here.

Moments later the scout returned again. "The building
is surrounded."

Dalton looked at Balwar.

Balwar gestured. "Let’s see our heretics."

They followed the scout.
What I wouldn’t give to be
in a city again. Buildings are predictable. This is not.
A strange building
appeared from the forest. Snow and remnants of plants pushed the flat roof. Ivy
knotted the stone and log walls. Rough glass—the type common to slums in Rome—emitted
yellow light. A stable stood to one side. The stable and lodge looked more like
hills than buildings.

Dalton stroked his graying chin. "Boys will get hurt
and maybe die in the next few minutes." He looked at Balwar.

Balwar stiffened his shoulders. "Send them in." The last
three words hung in the air. Charging into a building or taking down a heretic didn’t
give Balwar pause.
But ordering other men into danger is something else entirely.

Dalton frowned. "I’ve always wanted to be a hero. Might
as well give it another try." He shifted his halberd and raised his voice. "Let’s
do this, boys." He marched forward.

The men descended on the building. They smashed windows
and scrambled inside. Dalton and five men attacked the door. Shouts and crashes
split the forest’s silence. Balwar crossed his arms in his sleeves, his hidden pistols
ready. He frowned at how the men rushed into the building.
That’s a good way
to catch a knife in the chest.

Suddenly, screams and the clash of metal erupted from
somewhere inside the building. Balwar waved down the men by the stables and crossed
into the ruined entrance. Tables and chairs scattered across a space that looked
like some of the cozy inns Balwar had visited. Stuffed heads of animals lined the
walls and gazed out from above a large hearth. Several soldiers scanned the room
and watched the shattered windows.

Dalton’s voice came from the hall. "Don’t chase them.
Once they get into the woods you won’t find them. This is their land, and they
know it better than you do."

Balwar entered the hall. Several men tended to the wounded.
Sounds of objects being smashed in the adjoining rooms mingled with groans.

"Bring me anything that gives us a clue what they want."
Dalton leaned against a wall. Snow fluttered through a broken door. "Or anything
that would pay off the money you boys owe me." Men laughed.

Dalton looked at Balwar as he approached. "Two escaped.
The boys got one of them." He gestured to a room with a copper tub. A bloodied man
wearing a bandana lay slumped against the tub. "Andrew and a few others will have
war wounds to show off to their ladies."

"Just three?" Balwar asked. The building would turn a
good profit in a city with all its rooms. It had looked far smaller from the
outside.

Dalton nodded. "By the looks of it, unless one of the
boys finds someone hiding, not many lived here."

Balwar frowned. "So few to cause so much trouble."

"Wouldn’t take many men to ambush a few scouts or patrols."
Dalton stroked his beard. "Feels shady to me. For the Vatican to send us here quite
a few had to die."

"They didn’t tell me."

"And Tredere’s boys tell me he would send them out alone
on patrols." Dalton shook his head. "Even in the militia we never did that to a
man, even just down the street. After seeing this, I think we have a rat."

Mark approached and saluted. "We found this." He handed
Dalton a square piece of animal hide.

"Any valuables found?" Balwar asked.