Chapter 4

Brena wasn’t sure about the offer, but she decided that the risk might be worth a place to sleep indoors for once.

Brena washed her face and hands in the cold water, then stood, shaking her hands to get most of the water off. She didn’t want to use her cloths to wipe off as they had road grime and some twigs imbedded in them. She turned towards the door, but kept the man at the edge of her vision. Something felt off about this, but she just couldn’t place what it was. She pushed the cloth aside that covered the door and waited a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the darkness inside the hut. There was enough light coming in from the windows and fire to see fairly well. The place was rustic to say the least. It had an open pit fireplace in the center of the one room, smoke was allowed to escape up a tube made of wood that had a some sort of metal sheeting lining it. The rafters had many herbs and plants hanging, along with what appeared to be preserved meats. She saw one wall had several cords of dried wood along it, shelves with jars and flasks lined another.

She could see that they were indeed doing well for themselves. They might even have a spring house of some sort to keep things cool as needed. She looked at the table and noted eight chairs around it but didn’t see anybody else around. The wife saw her looking around, “The kids be grown and gone. I put out six of the ungrateful little monsters, then they up’s and leave us rather than stay, marry and help in the family trade of wood cutting.” She turned away to pick up the pot that was over the fire pit and bring it to the table. She had continued to mutter about faithless children in today’s world. “Come in old fool, dinners on the table,” she shouted.

“Oh shut up hag, I could hear you just fine.” He yelled back.

Brena looked back and forth as they continued the verbal assault on one another for another minute. When they ran down, the wife smiled at Brena. ‘Don’t mind us dear, we’re an old married couple and get along just fine. This was just an exchange of pleasantries in the evening, not that a youngin like you could understand it though. You have a long way to go before you reach our point in life. Now eat up the stew girl while it’s hot, safer that way most times.”

Brena dipped the wood spoon in the thick, grey green goop and lifted it to her nose and sniffed quietly. Now her real training came to the fore. She could smell a herb that would put her to sleep if she ate even a little of it. There was also a hint of something more diabolical in the mix as well. She wasn’t sure of it, but felt a cold shiver run up her spine. She also noted that neither of her host had yet to touch the goop. She had not taken her bag off when she sat on a stool at the large table. She reached around and in the top, whispered a word and a small pouch suddenly was in her hand. She pulled it out and opened the tie string, then after a quick sniff of the contents, she sprinkled a pinch on the goop and stirred it in. When the smells faded, she resealed the pouch and returned it to her bag.

“What was that dear?” asked the wife, who was not looking as friendly now.

“Just a spice I happen to like is all.” Brena sniffed once more and didn’t detect anymore bad scents, at least none that she could recognize. She took a small taste and her stomach sent word, not no, But HELL NO!!! She gagged and spit out the small bit she had tasted and slid the stool away from the table.

The wife glared at her and the husband stood to block the door. “So you wanted to drug me and hand me over to the Duke did you,” said Brena. “I have some news for you, did they tell you who I am?”

The husband continued to glare, but answered, “You are wanted as a thief for stealing his signet ring.” She saw the dogs now covered the door from the outside. “You are worth ten years of wood cutting to me girl, and I mean to collect!” He moved towards her, arms out stretch to grapple her in a hug she knew would put her down hard. She didn’t want to kill them, but she also didn’t want to be captured. She pulled and threw a dagger almost faster than the eye could follow. She had aimed for his left knee in hopes of simply disabling him long enough to escape. He saw her move and tried to bring a hand down to protect his legs. That move was his undoing, he stumbled even as the dagger reached him. His mouth was open, it closed for a moment around the daggers hilt that protruded from it.

“You nasty child, you done killed my man, Now I’ll feed you to the dogs bitch!” The wife charged her with a large cleaver swinging over her head. Brena didn’t move because she saw what was about to happen. The cleaver smacked into one of the lower rafters and stuck in the old hard wood. The woman staggered to a stop and looked at her now empty hands, not quite understanding what had just happened.

Brena had a larger dagger out of her bag now and held it at the woman’s throat. “Let me leave and I will allow you to continue living. I am Brena Sizemoore, daughter of the head of the Plains Guard Thieves Guild. A position that I seem to have inherited thanks to that madman in the castle. She backed to the door, hearing the growls behind her. “Call them off or they will join him and you on the ground rotting. All food for the vultures because I can’t afford the time to bury all of you.”

The woman glared with absolute hatred at her, “I can’t call them off, they only followed the old bastard’s orders.”

“Then sadly, they will die too.” Before the woman could speak again or even move more than a step, Brena did a back summersault out the door. The old man had left the flap open to allow for light and air into the confines of the hut. She held the dagger in her right hand, her pack in her left. The dagger came down and sliced into the back of the neck of the dog on her right. It yelped in pain then fell to the ground, whimpering, unable to move at all. The dog on the left jumped back to avoid the swinging pack, then charged Brena, it mouth open and snarling, showing more teeth than any dog should be allowed to have.

Brena hit the ground on her feet, sprung up again into a standing back flip and spin, bringing her dagger hand around to confront the other attacker. The blade made contact, slicing across the dogs snout. It screamed and started running around the yard and, dragging it’s cut nose in the dirt, trying to make the hurt go away. Brena didn’t stop to watch, she ran in the direction of the river and soon saw the water with the evening sun reflecting off it. She found the path and ran until she couldn’t run anymore. Her breath was coming short wheezes and she realized that there had been something else in the goop her antitoxin hadn’t totally neutralized.

“Have to get off the ground.” She thought. In the bag she had ropes, slings and a hammock. She gathered these items then figured she had a few minutes to see if she could stop what ever the drug was from killing her. Her poison pouch had a general antidote, but it would leave her weak and sick for a full day, possibly two after using it. She wet a fingertip, touched the powder in the bag, she licked the powder off her finger. She drank her fill from the river then looked for a tree that would suit her needs for the next day or so. She soon was up a large, wide spread oak and had her hide set up. She removed her lower garments to keep from soiling them as she knew one of the effects to be a violent clearing of the bowels. She made sure she would have it all go down into the crux of the tree rather than strait down. It would still smell, but it wouldn’t be as obvious as to where she was hiding.

The next two days were a haze of cramps and agony. What ever was in that goop was nasty, maybe it was just the crap as a whole that was making her so sick. By the end of the second day her body had settled down and she was able to climb down to the rivers edge and fill her water bags. She also took the time to wash up to remove her own feces and vomit from her body.

“Very nasty stuff in that goop,” she thought miserably. “No food, no shelter and not sure which way to go except down stream. One place I could obtain food that is fresh would be back at the hut. A few chickens and some fresh killed and cooked beef would go down good about now.” She looked at the early evening sky and saw the clouds to the northwest had turned dark and ominous with flickering of lightning among the upper towers of the thunderheads. “Back to the hut then,” she thought. She had a hard time recovering all the ropes from her hide. She had thrashed around a lot causing the knots to tighten far more than she had set them.