Cipher Code {complete}

Chapter Forty Eight: Swear It.

October, Year 483
Town of Lacau
State of Nicia
North

The soldier, Issac, watched them both with careful eyes. His gaze didn't leave them once, even as the growls from beasts nearby promoted his hand to fall to his side, expecting his weapon, the rifle, but grasping nothing but fog.

Esau almost laughed at the troubled look that crossed the man's face the moment he realized how defenseless he truly was.

"Where is my gun?" The captain asked with a scowl. Esau could see much of it now that the fog was thinning. It was morning. The thought nipped at his heart, soon all this would be over.

The nine year old considered lying to the man, his eyes briefly meeting Alun's before flickering back to the soldier. "Back over there," Esau gestured to the path they had just walked.

For a moment there was silence. Esau imagined that Issac was debating whether to go back and get his gun or keep pressing forward.

"Here," Esau made the choice for him, holding out a sheathed blade to the older man, "have it."

Issac took the knife by the hilt, pleased to have something that he could use if under attack. He tugged on the sheath, letting out a sharp sound of approval as the blade gleamed in the sparse lighting.

"A good blade!" He couldn't help but praise, surprised. He ran his finger over the edge, not able to suppress a shiver from going through his heart. When was the last time he held a knife this sharp?

"You like them?" Alun asked. "Blades, I mean."

Issac sheathed the knife and pressed his lips into a thin line, not answering the sly boy. "How did you get it this sharp. . . E?"

"A family secret." Esau answered after a pause. Placing a hand on Alun's shoulder as he considered how to explain to him that they could not go to the capital together. His master had tried to kill his sister and Edythe in turn had. . . It would be better this way, for everyone.

"And where are they now?" Issac asked, curious. Their party of three had stopped by a row of bushes, obscured by the fog, but from here Issac could make out the outline of buildings.

His heart was thrown into chaos as he narrowed his eyes at the scene as though it would help him determine whether his men were still lalive. After all, they must have thought he was dead.

"Dead." Esau answered automatically, not even able to process the words before they left his mouth.

Alun stared at him, a look of confusion flashing across his features. The captain paused, his expression relaying sympathy. . . Sympathy Esua didn't need or want.

The boy stumbled back, rustling the bushes behind him. He looked for a way to explain, but there was nothing to clear up. It was the truth. "We are the last survivors," he breathed, wiping his sweaty hands against the material covering his legs, "you won't find anyone else."

Issac frowned then looked down at the blade in his hand. "How long? How long did they last?"

"Not through the first night."

"Where are the bodies?"

"We buried them."

Astonishment hit the soldier hard, Esau could see it. "You. . . buried them?"

The boy nodded stiffly. "Under the hill by the town's gate."

"You did this alone?" The man questioned, his suspicious gaze landing on Alun.

"No, with my sis-" Esau slapped his hands over his mouth, cursing his stupidity. What had he been saying?

Issac's eyes twinkled. "How old are you, E?"