Chapter 22: Refugees and Goodbyes
We took shelter at an inn about five miles from White Wood.
The women insisted on baths before we left, like hot water could wash two weeks of running off their skin. I didn't argue. I waited outside with Ant and Kenda, keeping watch and pretending the world was quiet.
Ant was the boy with the plank—eight years old and loud enough to announce danger before it arrived.
Kenda was ten and skinny, the only girl among them who dressed like a boy. The kind of skinny I used to be, back when I still believed I could outrun every problem in the world.
Both of them had claimed swords from the dead men we robbed. I'd shown them how to hold steel on our way here. How to stand. How not to cut their own feet off.
Now they were "training."
Which meant Kenda was beating Ant with a stick while Ant did his best to look heroic.
Ant shouted when he attacked. Kenda dodged without moving her face. Ant lost balance. Kenda struck him hard on the ass.
Ant screamed like he'd been stabbed and glared at me, eyes wet with rage.
"What am I doing wrong, Leno?" he demanded. "I'm stronger and faster than her!"
He looked like he wanted to cry, which made him even angrier.
"Yes," I said, chewing my pork thigh like it was my only joy, "you're stronger, bigger, and faster."
Ant lifted his chin like victory was guaranteed.
"But she doesn't betray herself," I finished.
Ant blinked.
I pointed with the bone.
"Every time you attack, you shout. Every time you defend yourself, you groan and grunt. Kenda already knows your body's story."
Kenda didn't even look smug. She just waited.
"So she feints when you groan," I continued, "and she guards when you shout. That's why you never hit her."
Ant's mouth twisted. "But people shout when they fight. It scares their enemies."I stared at him.
"Your shouting doesn't scare Kenda," I said. "Does it?"
Ant looked at Kenda.Kenda raised her stick slightly, like she was ready to prove a point again.
I sighed, picked at meat stuck between my teeth, and nodded at Ant.
"Try this. Be calm. Don't look where you plan to strike. Watch where is striking."
Ant attacked again.This time he didn't shout.
But he bared his teeth like a wolf pup pretending to be grown.
Kenda was ready for that too—she dodged left and tried to tag him, but Ant surprised me.
He didn't groan.
He didn't grunt.He met her stick and wiped it aside, then swung back.
Their sticks clacked.
Ant's eyes lit up every time he landed a hit or defended properly, like the boy had been starving for a win.
Just then, the inn door creaked open.Sissy stepped out.
She was one of the older women, though "older" was a lie—she was probably late twenties, maybe younger, just tired in the way people become tired when life doesn't let them rest.
She walked over to me and nodded once, polite as a funeral.
"It seems we won't be joining you to White Wood, Leno."
I stopped chewing.
"What do you mean?"
"The innkeeper's wife told us," she said, glancing at the hilt of my sword as if it made her nervous. "There's a merchant building a brothel in the new town about a mile west. We've decided to go there."
I didn't say anything for a moment.
Sissy and the other two women had been whores in Ladislau. They escaped through a tunnel behind the brothel and ran until their lungs turned to fire. Seven of the children were theirs—Ant included.
They found Kenda in the woods. She didn't remember how she escaped.
Or maybe she remembered and didn't want to.
"Oh," I said finally. "Right. I guess this is farewell then."
Sissy smiled. It wasn't happy. It was grateful.
"How can we repay you for saving us?" she asked.
"Don't worry about it," I said, tossing the meatless bone toward the dogs playing nearby. "Just… live."
That was repayment enough.I went to the stables, paid the stable boy a silver coin, and got my horse ready.
As I led the horse out, Kenda ran up to me like she'd been holding her breath the whole time.
"Please take me with you, Leno," she said.
Her voice was steady, but her eyes weren't.
"You can't come," I said, checking my saddlebag again even though I already knew everything was there. "I don't know where my journey ends. It's not safe with me."
"I can fight," she said, waving her hand like she was cutting down invisible enemies."I know," I told her. "That's not the problem."I put my foot in the stirrup and swung up onto the saddle.
"You come with me," I said, gentler now, "and you'll never have a normal life. Trust me."
Kenda stared at the ground, jaw tight like she was trying not to cry.
"I hope we'll see each other one day," I said.
Then I turned my horse toward White Wood and rode away before goodbyes could turn into begging.
Some roads don't let you carry extra weight.
Even if the weight is a child who wants to live.