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Sabrina hitched up her skirts. Hiked her bag higher on her shoulder. Placed one booted foot upon the fallen log. Wobbled, arms swinging out to balance herself.
Beneath her, the stream churned against its banks, sending a muddy spill of water racing under the log. Upstream, broken tree limbs piled against an exposed root, caught in a growing dam of branches.
“Aren’t we past these juvenile games?” Jane asked.
“Enough out of you, Sister Brigh. Being a grown woman does not necessarily equal being a moldy old bore.”
“Very well. But your grown self is going to end up soaked to the skin if you aren’t careful,” Jane warned.
“But I’m being careful. And so will you.” She glanced back over her shoulder where Jane stood, arms folded, disapproval stamped upon her freckled features. “Come. You’re not a full sister yet.”
Tapping her foot, Jane rendered a skeptical grimace.
“Just.” With surefooted agility, Sabrina picked her way across the slick, knobby log. “Like.” Dropped back to the path, sweeping her friend a deep bow. “That.”
Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Jane stepped onto the log. “You’re completely incorrigible.”
Sabrina shot her a grin. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
Rolling her eyes as she bobbled her unsteady way across the log, Jane joined her friend on the path. “It’s getting late.” She darted a nervous glance at the encroaching wood. “I wish you hadn’t taken so long with Mrs. O’Brian. We should have been home by now.”
Dusk filtered gray and purple through the trees. Drew long shadows in the spaces between. Branches scraped in the rising wind, clouds flattening low and angry across the sky. Rain and the damp, moldy pungency of earth scenting the air.
“Babies don’t exactly wear watches,” Sabrina replied. “As it was, it was a very short labor so be happy for small favors. We might have been there all night.”
“At least then we’d have been traveling in the morning. It’s awfully dark through here.”
“Come along. If we hurry we might still be in time for supper.” Sabrina grabbed Jane’s hand, and the pair hurried along the narrow winding track. Never noticed the strangers until they’d stepped into the path. Others drawing up behind them like specters.
“Sabrina?” Jane’s fear trembled her voice.
“It’s all right.” Sabrina’s gaze moved over the filthy, matted features of wild, landless men. “They wouldn’t dare harm us.”
She lifted her head. Let their greasy, hollow gazes slide over the snow-white kerchief covering her hair. The somber habit. Let them conclude they’d not grown desperate enough to molest a pair of holy women.
A bone-thin man in torn trousers and a shirt that looked as if it had been made for a much stouter figure stepped forward. Sabrina’s throat closed at the flash of knife glinting in his fist.
The countryside crawled with gangs of destitute peasants turned off their land. Rumors of the crimes committed by these bandits were a common staple of daily gossip. Ard-siúr warned all to take care upon the roads and travel together when leaving the protection of the demesne. But she and Jane traveled upon bandraoi land. The village only a half mile beyond the last field’s border. They should have been safe. Should have been out of harm’s way.
Her heart thrashed against her ribs, her mouth dry and sticky. Should-have-beens were useless. What she needed were steady nerves and a plan. Any plan. But all her whirling, panicked mind did was curl into a ball and pretend to be dead. Hardly helpful.
“Hand over the bag. And aught else of value,” Bone-Thin Man demanded.
From behind, a dirty hand slid around her waist. Drew her close, a hiss of sour breath against her cheek. A barrel’s dig against her ribs. “Do as you’re told. Isn’t that what them women teach ya? Obedience?”
She dragged her bag from her shoulder to the ground. She might be brave, but she wasn’t foolish. They could have it, though they’d find little of use among the medicines it contained. “That’s all we have.”
Jane whimpered, her freckles standing out in splotches against her white face.
A second man closed in. Tipped her quivering chin to the light, a leering gleam in his eye. With a wrench, he tore the kerchief from her head, hair spilling in a copper wave down her back. “I say we take more than a few measly coins and a trinket or two. Probably starved for a man, they is. Like a good ride? Eh, pet?”
Jane’s eyes darted wildly, her body visibly shuddering.
The sight of her friend’s panicked terror ignited a spark of defiance in Sabrina. A spark that caught. Flared and sizzled in her like a sputtering candle. She glared. If only the flames heating her blood could shoot straight from her eyes. “Take your hands off her.”
The man’s slimy attention swung her direction. “Jealous, are ya, pet?” His crude braying laughter touched off the others, who snorted and stamped their approval of his wit. “You’ll have yer turn soon enough. There’s plenty of us to go round.”
“Take care. You address a lady.”
