Blackthorn

[ Chapter 9 - A Way Home]

It'd been awhile since leaving the lake and my vision clouded with sleep. Cloudy splotches of exhaustion began to blot out the light of the lantern. The aching of my legs distracted me from the hunger that panged my stomach every minute. My mouth watered for real food. I had found nothing but a few sour berries.

I'd been wandering aimlessly by the lantern's light with only the berries to hold me over until my next meal; wherever that was coming from. Surely the main road was close, it couldn't be far.

I guess the sprites didn't think to make a trail to lead me back from the lake.

Then, the spaces between the trees thinned out. I must've been getting close! I could hear the distant clop of horse hooves and nearly burst into happy tears. The main road! It sounded like someone was passing by.

Now was my chance.

I raced off, darting and dodging between trees with Bayaard trying his absolute best to keep up with me. The sound of the horse hooves grew louder. The candle's flame blew out just as I broke through the trees and spilled onto the dirt. I was right in the path of the carriage. As luck would have it the horses reared back in surprise, their hooves stopping inches from my face.

"You there! What are you doing?" The driver demanded, "Nearly got yourself killed."

Dust filled my lungs and my only reply was with a fit of coughs. The driver set the reins down, trying to gauge a look at my face, hidden mostly by the hood. The taste of dirt was still fresh in my mouth as I stood up and moved the hair that had fallen in front of my eyes.

He examined me closely, "You're not one of them are you?" He asked with an eyebrow raised. I dug my heel in the dirt. I assumed he meant vampire.

"Of course not!" I lifted my hood and smiled, showing no fangs. He huffed his approval and lifted the reins ready to snap the horses back into action.

"Wait—I don't suppose you could give me a ride?"

"No room for you or the mutt, get lost." He grumbled. The reins clicked and the horses began to trot along, leaving me and Bayaard in the dust they kicked up. I was going home, and this was my way back.

I caught up to the carriage and the driver pulled back on the reins, the horses slowed.

"Sir, please! I need to get home to my family." I begged.

Who was I kidding, I had nothing to offer him, my coin was in the satchel when Sterling took off. I hid my mother's ring from view. The last thing I wanted was for him to take the last valuable thing I had on me. My smile was practically pleading with the driver to help me.

"10 gold and I will get you to the nearest tavern and no more." He said.

"—but I don't have any money. Please, I'll repay you as soon as I can."

"Fine. But that mutt isn't setting foot in my carriage."

"—but sir, he's hurt."

"I don't care!" He snapped, "He can walk on the side."

The driver helped me up and I seated myself next to him. Already he had shown to be unpleasant, not being in the best of a mood so far.

"Stay off the road, you hear? Next time you may not be so lucky."

"I will, thank you."

The carriage wheels began to turn up the dirt as the horses started out. I'd bet it was a long way from here to Arwyn. During the ride as the carriage bumped along the driver kept muttering about how he wasn't being paid enough to transport goods through the Blackthorn let alone ferry a little girl and her mutt along to the nearest village.

I knew he was talking about me; about how I was such a burden to him, but I was too tired to even care. I just wanted to be back home.

I did happen to catch the mention of my father's name in the string of inconveniences. Something along the lines of, "How does Henry expect to keep his best suppliers if he can't even spare a single coin." Apparently someone didn't feel they were getting the amount they felt entitled to, but that wasn't my father's fault, or mine.

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Halfway through the bumpy ride I had tuned out the merchant's complaints. I kept occasional tabs on Bayaard, limping alongside the carriage. The blood around the bite had dried. Time continued to pass and we finally reached our destination.

The gnarled branches of an oak carved into the dirt and the carriage stopped. "Here we are; The Drunken Hog." I was launched from my seat, tumbling down into the dirt. I stood up and brushed myself off, thanking the driver for the last time—but I added something more.

"The man you spoke of our whole ride—he's my father..." The driver's mouth fell open in shock. He started to speak but I silenced him.

"I'd be happy to let him know that you are dissatisfied with the pay you receive. But I'll have you know he has a sick wife and step-daughter, along with four other mouths to feed and is trying his best to make ends meet. I'll be on my way now, good day to you, sir."

Needless to say, along came a sputtering of apologies, none of which I entertained and turned my back on such an arrogant man. I heard the carriage ride away and I set my sights on the tavern. A few horses were tied up in front and the sign hung but a rusty chain swaying in the wind.

Going inside was better than staying another moment out here.

I walked up the lopsided steps with Bayaard in tow limping along beside me, still whimpering from his injuries. How dare he call him a mutt, and to make him walk alongside the carriage rather than ride by my side? I pushed the door open to allow the scent of ale to waft out.