The Shapeshifters (4 page)

‘
A curse of
the Dark Wraiths of Corthware.’

‘
Really? And
how often does this take place? How often do they
change?’

‘
Daily,’ he
declared, pushing the prison door open and jumping down into the
grass. ‘On the sun’s zenith. Hence why we travel mostly at
night.’

I gazed down at him, my
jaw still in a dull ache from Rolonder’s punch, my ribs in a throb.
‘Was this your plan all along then? To do in the Barony’s good
men?’

‘
They
banished us from Palemoth. And were most brutal and unfair in their
conduct.’ He held out a hand for me as I left the cart, climbing
down awkwardly with my lame foot into deep dry grass. ‘But for
Arrabel Grean, she of the Greans of Raethgar, she who lopped off
the head of the Baroness... why, how could we stand by and allow
you, our
Varrën
,
to be taken into custody to face unwarranted execution?’

I smiled at him. ‘Again,
Hillod, I must thank you for your aid. And must apologise for
doubting you.’

‘
I hear you.
But you must plead neither from us. It has been our deepest honour
to assist you.’

I looked about, adjusting
the belt fastened around my dress. My eyes found the perforated
carcass of Rolonder, lying there, his spine cracked and hinged and
twisted backwards, almost inside-out. His spilt belly-guts being
nibbled at by those small grass lizards, his eyeballs being picked
at by ants and mantis and grass crabs. I wanted to feel a sense of
victory over that horrid soul. But I simply felt a numbed sense of
continued hate. For his role in incarcerating my family, for his
role in the violent, torturous rape of so many innocent young girls
and women. At least now he was dead. Justice done, I suppose.
Although, I wished he had endured a death of far greater suffering.
For his hurtful, wicked ways. I snorted and spat at his blank,
hateful face one last time.

I turned and pressed
Hillod, ‘I judge we are safe then if we are vacating the safety of
this cart.’

As if in
answer he pointed toward the edge of the woods. Firstly one, then
two
horses
… then
a handful more… leaving the confines of the trees and thickets.
Blood soaked and speckled in torn flesh, yet all now returned to
their original form, grazing now peacefully upon the plentiful
grasses.

15

Within the hour we were
away once more... heading East toward the Gundarven Marshes, where
I bid farewell and offered many thanks to my new friends and their
strange steeds... where I would trudge for the next six weeks in
the hope to find the friends that I believed still lived in the
hills beyond... where I would go into exile... and at last mourn
the passing of my family...

~ END
~