Calls and shouts rose from the street behind her as the soldiers neared.
She drove the horse forward, but not quite as fast as before. She scanned the area for somewhere to hide. Houses and shops lined the street. A small garden was behind one of the houses. A blanket hung on a line to dry behind another. She spotted a horse tied to a tree branch at the back of one of the houses. She quickly rode over to the horse, dismounted, and flipped the reins around the branch, beside the other horse. She dashed between two of the adjacent buildings. One was a house and the other, a baker’s shop. The delicious scent of fresh bread wafted through the air.
She patted her hair and took deep breaths to calm her breathing. She needed to appear like a patron. Just looking at the wares. Composed. Not running from killer soldiers. She swallowed as she emerged into the crowded street, stopping to gaze at a vendor’s stand of vegetables. She nodded to the woman with long dark hair and continued. Subtly glancing down the street at the spot where she had turned between the buildings, Sage saw one of the soldiers arguing with a merchant whose fabrics were strewn on the ground.
Sage smiled to herself. That soldier hadn’t made the turn. Where was the other one?
She moved through the packed market, crossing the dirt street. A cart full of hay came toward her, and she jogged out of the way. As it passed, she scanned the area. No soldier. Had he found her horse? It didn’t matter. She had the book, and she…
And then, she spotted the soldier. One house down the street, sitting atop his horse, searching the mass of people with his eyes. She knew it was him by the direction he was coming from, and by the leather armor he wore.
Sage advanced quickly to a vendor’s stand with a yellow awning over the top, pretending to look at the candles on display.
“This one smells like lavender,” the plump merchant explained to her.
She bobbed her head and shifted her gaze to the soldier who pushed his horse forward to enter the congested road. She lifted the candle to her nose and inhaled, all the while watching the soldier. Again, she nodded at the merchant, smiling. “Lavender.” She put the candle down as the soldier came closer. She stepped behind the cloth covering so the soldier wouldn’t see her and pointed to another candle. “Does that one smell?”
The soldier stopped his horse in the street one merchant’s stand away from Sage. He bent over and grabbed one of the farmers by the tunic, pulling him near. “Have you seen a woman with short, dark hair?” he demanded.
Sage touched her trimmed locks. She had never thought her hair would give her away.
“This one?” the merchant asked, picking up the candle Sage was looking at. He glanced at the soldier. “No. No. This one is for light. It will last a very long time.” His voice trailed off as he watched the soldier shake the farmer.
“No,” the farmer in the soldier’s grasp responded fearfully.
The soldier shoved the farmer away with a grimace, and the man tumbled to the ground. He quickly stood and rushed away.
The plump merchant glanced at Sage, his gaze pausing on her hair. “Ruffians,” he whispered in contempt. “That’s all those soldiers are.”
Sage nodded. Her stare perused the candles. “I’ll have to ask my husband,” she said. She had learned long ago that asking one’s husband first was an acceptable answer to not purchasing anything. It usually enraged her, but now, it helped her.
She saw the belly and legs of the soldier’s horse below the awning as it turned and headed for the other soldier. The fabric vendor was gone, all the bolts of cloth gathered from the dirty street.
Sage knew the soldiers were not going to give up that easily. She had to get out of that town. But she was not leaving Marcus behind. She needed to find somewhere she could observe the inn.
Keeping an eye on the soldiers, she circled one of the shops. When the soldiers were speaking, she crossed the crowded street to move back towards her horse. She hesitated at the side of a brick building, watching Guillume’s men speak in the distance near the entrance to the market. She glanced at the vegetables on the cart before her, trying to blend in. She peered at the soldiers. The one on horseback scanned the street and Sage pulled back behind the brick wall of the house.
She waited a moment and leaned out far enough to see the soldier on the horse galloping away toward the inn. The other guard was speaking to one of the merchants, continuing the search.
Sage walked casually back to the rear of the house, so as not to draw attention to herself. Her horse was still tethered to the tree. Her plan had worked.
Now, it was up to her to figure out how to save Marcus.
