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Exactly thirty minutes later, the night found the three of us tiptoeing out of my quarters.
William was predictably upset; he missed out on ‘the excitement’ in the passageway, and was currently dancing on his toes, full of energy. Nothing seemed to get him down for long. Brex and I, however, were much more cautious.
We were able to make it to the gate without incident, and then settled in to wait for Little John.
“Oi.” The whisper greeted us a few minutes later. He had a medium sized pack thrown over his shoulder, and what looked like several furs under his arm.
“What’s with the fur?” I motioned to the bundle.
“I’ve sent the guards at the gate on a fool's errand,” he answered, ignoring my question. “I also cleaned the passageway and the body you left behind, but Captain Rekker still lives. We need to get moving quickly, before he notices your absence or the guards come back.”
My heart stuttered when I realized that I had taken my first human life, and it wasn’t Captain Rekker’s. I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about that. Should I feel disappointment that the wrong man died by my hand?
After a calculative look, Little John began to quietly unroll the furs he was holding. “Was that your first kill?”
I had killed animals before, but I knew that was not what he meant. “Yes.” The word came out as a croak.
Nodding, he handed me the fur. “Then this is for you, lady hunter. A token of your first kill.”
Curious, I took the fur and shook it open, gasping. It was a fur cloak with a wolf’s head—the same cloak I saw on the Bruralian who buried Will. “What?” My brain froze, and Little John took pity on me.
“Soldiers have the custom to keep a token of their first kill, a reminder that while life is precious, sometimes to protect those you love, a high price is required. Never take life for granted, and never hesitate to defend those who need defending, or yourself.” With that daunting speech, he took the cloak from my hands and draped it across my shoulders. “I chose the cloak as it would be both your reminder, and your aid in your quest to find answers. Bruralians use these cloaks, for what purpose, I do not know, but I’ve got a feeling these will come in handy.”
I lifted my eyes from the wolf pelt to his. “I won’t forget,” I promised.
“Good. Now, you two follow me.” Turning on his heel, he slipped out the unmanned gate.
I ignored Will pulling on my hand, to give Brex one last hug goodbye before I followed Will and Little John. “Be safe, and don’t take unnecessary chances,” I whispered in her ear.
“I could say the same to you. Just come back in one piece.”
Soft laughter left me before I slipped out the gate.
We traveled hard through the night and into the next day, resting only for a few minutes where we could, and nibbling on the rations Brex packed for us as we walked. I worried that Will wasn’t fully healed from his beating, but Little John insisted we didn’t have the luxury of going slower if Captain Rekker was following us. Still, I kept a close eye on Will to make sure he didn’t push himself too hard.
As the day grew warmer, I slipped my wolf cloak off and stored it in my pack. While we advanced through the forest, I took the time to sift through my feelings regarding the life I took. Surprisingly, I realized I didn’t regret it. I had acted in self-defense, and my actions not only saved my life, but possibly others. If he truly was the man who buried Will, who was to say he wouldn’t also kill others? However, I did regret that the loss of life was necessary.
Around midday, we arrived at a small village, and Little John headed toward the inn. The Seven Does. I was surprised at how plush it was, being in the middle of nowhere.
“Are we going to take a nap here?” Will joked.
“We’re going to find someone,” Little John replied. “You can sleep when you’re dead.”
“I’m harder to kill than I look.”
Crossing through the doors and into the empty room, he gave Will a once over. “I think people are beginning to realize that.”
Watching the exchange, I tried to hold back my eye roll. Men were ridiculous.
“Oi, wench!” Little John loudly called, sitting at the corner table. “An ale for me and my companions!”
The ‘wench’ glanced at him, did a double take as if she recognized him, then hurried to the back room. I watched the door like a hawk, relieved when she came out promptly, three tankards in her hands. I only hoped it tasted better than the swill at the Pig’s Toe.
My hands wrapped around the mug, taking a careful sip of the lukewarm liquid before turning to Little John. It wasn’t as bad as I feared, but it still wasn’t good. “Who are we meeting here?”
“Ah, Little John! Fancy seeing you here. My ‘wench’ tells me your manners haven’t improved since our last meeting.”
Surprised by the smooth voice coming from the back doorway, I glanced back to find a tall, lean friar walking toward us—a satirical smile on his face. His dark hair was longer than normal, but his hazel eyes held secrets. My hand automatically went to the dagger at my waist, and I noticed that Will did the same.
