Free Shana Abe by The Promise of Rain Page A

preposterous things like long hair or skirts.
    Every now and then a whirling sweep of air would clear the ground ahead of her, highlighting the brown earth, the clumping bushes, an ancient tree or two.
    That was bad. If the fog was lifting, she might as well give up now. She heard the muttered cursings of the soldiers, the sounds traveling to her clearly now.
    “Blasted woman,” said someone, and others growled agreement.
    “Blasted witch,” another amended, and got a louder round of approval.
    She needed to loop around them. She needed to be somewhere they would not think to look right away. She needed to turn back toward them.
    Leading Auster abruptly left, Kyla prayed she had enough time to cross their path before the soldiers were upon her. She began moving at a half run on her toes, squinting, bending low, keeping one hand up in front of her to ward off the dangerous branches and limbs, letting her arm take the brunt of the blows.
    Still they came closer. Hadn’t she reached the end of their line yet? She and Strathmore had been almost at the end of the column when she turned off. She wouldn’t have believed they could organize and fan out so quickly.
    She was heading right for them. Their horses were snorting and stumbling through the haze. She could clearly hear the steady
clink, clink
of the men’s chain mail against their shields and armor once more. It was a nightmare coming true, faceless monsters come to hunt her down, they were going to get her.…
    She wasn’t going to make it.
    In a heartbeat she turned Auster around, away from thesoldiers, and let go of the reins. He didn’t move, just stood placidly as the others approached. Kyla pushed at him, put both hands against his mighty shoulder and shoved. He still didn’t move.
    In desperation she slapped him lightly on the flank, then pushed again. The stallion turned his head and looked at her reproachfully.
    Please
, she thought,
oh, please, my friend, go now.…
    And the horse had looked away from her and ambled on, almost immediately invisible behind the curtain of the fog.
    The moisture clinging to her face now was mingled with salty perspiration, but Kyla rubbed her eyes with the sleeve of the gown and began to stumble on, running on a straight path that crossed the line of men.
    But she still wasn’t going to make it.
    To her left she thought she saw the shadow of a horse, but then it vanished again, lost in the mist. The soldiers were talking to one another in lower tones now. They had abandoned the notion that calling her name would bring her back, she guessed, and so they were keeping track of one another, cursing and noting markers when they saw one. She did not hear Lord Strathmore anymore.
    And then the shadow beside her took shape and she saw that it really was a horse, with a real man atop him, and Kyla whirled around and darted ahead. There was no call to halt or to follow her. Maybe she had not been seen? That horseman would be between two others, and they were too close now for her to circle around them. It was only a matter of seconds before they spotted her.
    Just ahead rose one of the many thick tree trunks, blessedly not an oak—a barren, long-trunked oak—but instead a heavy old pine, and without a second thought Kyla was on it, grabbing at her skirts and climbing faster than she would have thought possible.
    The sap stuck to her skin, collecting pieces of bark and needles, which dug into her palms. It didn’t matter. She was only a few feet off the ground when they passed her. She froze, flattening herself against the trunk.
    “Waste of bloody time,” one man was saying, slapping his thigh for emphasis. “Ought to leave her out here for the wolves.”
    “Go on, then,” said his companion, riding to his right. “And I’ll takes that fat reward for her m’self.”
    As they passed by she could make out their heads and torsos through the pine needles and the mist, both men dark-haired and large, mounted. They were exactly at