Chapter 10: The Wounded Bargain

Elinalise kept climbing. The slope steepened. Her breath tore at her throat. She moved from one boulder to the next, each one a temporary shield from the view below. The chain wound around her waist dug into her skin with every step. The metal ring tucked into the fold of her tunic felt like a cold, heavy stone.

She didn’t look back until she reached a ridge line. She dropped behind it, chest heaving.

The road below looked like a child’s toy battlefield after playtime. Bodies lay scattered. The burning wagon still smoldered, a thin grey plume rising into the twilight. Grenville soldiers moved among the fallen, checking bodies. They had formed up again. The bandits were gone, either dead or fled back into the rocks. From this height, the soldiers looked small and methodical.

One figure stood out, grey robes stark against the dirt. Adrion. He was walking slowly along the line of wagons. He stopped at her wagon. The open door would be obvious even from here. He gestured. Two soldiers ran over and peered inside.

They knew.

She pushed herself up from the ridge, moving before they could think to scan the slopes. The other side of the ridge dipped into a shallow gully choked with scrub pine and loose scree. She half-slid, half-ran down into it, grabbing at branches to keep her balance. The chain rattled against the rocks.

The gully deepened into a proper ravine with a trickle of water at its bottom. The sound of her own movement was too loud. Every snapped twig sounded like a crack of thunder. She forced herself to slow down, to pick her steps with more care.

The ache in her core was changing.

It had been a muted, wool-wrapped fist for days. Now she felt a threadbare patch in that wool. A low warmth seeped through it, familiar and unwelcome. It wasn’t the sharp, demanding heat of a full flare. It was more like embers stirring in ash, radiating a dull glow.

She paused beside the stream, sinking onto a flat rock. Her wrists felt less cold. The silver manacles were just metal now, heavy and awkward, but not actively leaching warmth from her skin.

Distance from Adrion. His magic, or his presence, must have been reinforcing the suppression. Or maybe the spell on the manacles had a limited range from its caster. Either way, the curse was waking up.

She pulled the stolen knife from her belt. It was a simple weapon, its blade about as long as her hand, single-edged and sturdy. The point was sharp. She examined the padlock on her chain first. It was a solid lump of iron with a keyhole too small for the knife’s tip.

The manacles themselves were more promising. Each cuff was two halves joined by a hinge on one side and a locking clasp on the other. The clasp was a simple latch that slid into a groove and was secured by a tiny pin. That pin was the weakness.

She wedged the knife’s tip into the gap around the pin on her left manacle. She levered it carefully. Metal screeched against metal. The pin didn’t budge. She applied more pressure, her hands shaking from exhaustion and cold. The knife tip slipped, gouging a shallow line across the back of her hand.

She hissed, sucking at the cut. Blood welled up, dark in the fading light.

Trying to pick a lock with a combat knife while shivering in a ravine was stupid. She knew it was stupid even as she tried again on the right manacle with the same futile result. The pin was too small, the mechanism too precise for brute force with the wrong tool.

The ember-glow in her core pulsed, as if amused by her struggle.

Voices echoed down the ravine.

She froze, knife held mid-air.

The sounds were faint, carried on the evening breeze from somewhere behind her, back toward the road. Shouted orders. They were searching.

She stuffed the knife back into her belt and stood up too fast. Dizziness washed over her. She hadn’t eaten since the morning, hadn’t drunk anything but a few handfuls of stream water since her escape. Her legs trembled.

She had to keep moving.

Following the stream seemed logical. Water cut paths through stone. It might lead to a valley, maybe even to people who weren’t Grenville soldiers.

The ravine walls grew taller, shadowed and damp. Moss clung to the stone. The trickle of water widened into a shallow brook. The going was slower here, over slick rocks and tangled roots.

She heard the search party again, closer this time. Their voices bounced off the stone, making it hard to pinpoint direction.

“—check that crevice!”

“Spread out! He can’t have gone far with that leg.”

They weren’t looking for her. Not specifically. They were looking for someone wounded. A bandit.

Elinalise pressed herself against the ravine wall, behind a thick curtain of hanging ivy. She held her breath.

Boots crunched on gravel not twenty paces away. She could see movement through the leaves—the dark green of a Grenville uniform.

“Nothing here,” a soldier called out.

“Keep moving up,” another voice answered, older, authoritative. “Captain wants the area clear before dark. Any stragglers get put down.”

The boots moved away, upstream.

Elinalise waited until the sounds faded completely before she slid out from behind the ivy. Her heart hammered against her ribs so hard she thought they might hear it.

She went downstream instead, moving away from the soldiers and their wounded quarry.

The ravine twisted and turned. The light bled from grey to deep blue. True night wasn’t far off. She needed shelter, somewhere to hide until morning.

Ahead, the stream disappeared under a jumble of massive boulders that had fallen from the cliff face long ago. They formed a chaotic pile, creating dark gaps and shallow hollows beneath them. One opening looked large enough to crawl into.

She approached cautiously, listening.

Only the sound of water dripping somewhere inside the rock pile.

The opening was a narrow slit between two house-sized stones. She dropped to her hands and knees, the chain dragging through wet gravel, and peered inside.

It wasn’t a cave so much as a pocket. The space was maybe eight feet deep and five wide, tall enough to sit up in near the back. The floor was dry sand and pebbles. It smelled of damp stone and earth.

Empty.

She crawled inside, pulling her legs in after her. The relative darkness felt like a blanket. She slumped against the back wall, finally letting the full weight of her exhaustion settle over her.

For a few minutes, she just breathed.

Then she unwound the chain from her waist. It fell to the sandy floor with a heavy thud and a clink of metal links. She rubbed at the sore skin beneath her tunic where it had chafed her raw.

The warmth in her core had grown steadier. It was definitely there now, a low-grade fever simmering under her skin. Not enough to cripple her yet, but enough to be a constant distraction, a reminder of what was coming back.

She had escaped one cage only to find herself in another made of silver and her own flesh.

Outside, twilight deepened into night proper. The slice of sky she could see through the entrance turned from deep blue to black, dotted with faint stars.

She must have dozed off sitting up because the next thing she knew, a sound jerked her awake.

It was a scraping noise, followed by a low groan of pain.

It came from just outside her hiding place.

Elinalise’s hand went to the knife at her belt. She held perfectly still, listening.

More scraping. A labored breath.

Someone was dragging themselves along the stream bank toward the rocks.

She shifted silently to the entrance, staying low in the shadows.

A figure slumped onto the gravel bank about ten feet away, collapsing against a smaller rock. In the faint starlight she could make out bulky shapes—leather armor, fur trim. A bandit.

One of his legs was bent at an unnatural angle below the knee. He clutched his thigh just above it with both hands, his face a pale mask of pain and dirt-streaked sweat.

He hadn’t seen her yet.

He was panting heavily, his head lolling back against the stone as he tried to catch his breath.

Elinalise weighed her options silently in the dark cave mouth where no one could see her thinking things through anyway since thinking didn’t require light or movement necessarily but did require not being found by wounded criminals who might shout for Grenville soldiers if startled enough perhaps even if they weren’t particularly loyal to any cause beyond their own survival which made them predictably unreliable honestly she hated dealing with predictable people almost as much as unpredictable ones actually no that wasn’t true unpredictable ones were worse obviously unpredictable meant you couldn’t plan anything at all which made everything feel pointless after awhile but maybe she was just tired and hungry enough for everything to feel pointless already so what did it matter really anyway she should probably decide what to do right now before he spotted her first which would ruin any element of surprise she might have theoretically possessed though surprise wasn’t worth much against a man who couldn’t walk properly but still he had arms presumably and maybe a weapon somewhere on him she hadn’t checked yet so better to be careful than stupid obviously yes careful good plan let’s go with that then okay time to move maybe just watch him first see what he does that seemed sensible enough honestly fine watching it is then good plan good thinking very smart princess indeed great job really pat yourself on the back later when you aren’t hiding in a hole with magic handcuffs on okay focus now please thank you very much alright back to watching then yes indeed here we go watching watching watching…

The bandit fumbled at his belt with one shaking hand and pulled out a waterskin. He drank greedily, water spilling down his chin onto his chest.

He lowered it with another groan and let his head thump back against rock again closing his eyes for moment maybe passing out which would solve problem neatly but no his eyes snapped open after second scanning darkness around him instinctively wary like animal caught in trap which basically described situation accurately enough she supposed

His gaze passed over cave entrance didn’t linger but then returned slower this time

He had seen something shape maybe movement shadow couldn’t be sure but his body tensed even through pain

“Who’s there?” voice raspy dry despite water

Elinalise didn’t answer

He shifted painfully reaching for something else at belt not weapon but small pouch opened it poured contents into palm herbs maybe medicinal something he pressed them against wound on thigh hissing through teeth

Then he looked directly at cave entrance

“I know you’re in there” he said tone conversational now like discussing weather “I can hear you breathing”

She hadn’t realized she was holding breath let it out slowly

Still didn’t speak

“You one of mine?” he asked “Or one of theirs?”

When silence held he grunted “Fine hide then but they’re sweeping this ravine come dawn Grenville dogs won’t leave loose ends like me lying around they find you they’ll either kill you or drag you back for that pretty silver jewelry you got there”

Her hand went to manacles reflexively metal felt warm now against skin curse-warmth bleeding through

How could he see them in this dark?

As if reading thought he said “Starlight catches metal funny makes it shine different than rock saw glint when you moved just now”

She stayed quiet weighing new variable He knew about manacles knew they meant something special

“Look” he said voice dropping lower “I got no fight with you whoever you are But I can’t walk my leg’s smashed Grenville patrol finds me I’m dead You help me get out this ravine I know place can get those cuffs off you”

That got reaction she couldn’t stop herself from leaning forward slightly

He saw movement pressed advantage “Blacksmith name of Kael works settlement day’s hike northward Makes locks keys specializes in tricky magical bindings for right price or right favor”

Settlement Outlaws A blacksmith who dealt with magical bindings It sounded too convenient almost like trap

“Why would you help me?” she asked voice rough from disuse startling even herself

He shrugged painful gesture “Practical reasons You got two working legs I got knowledge We help each other we both live We don’t we both die simple as that”

“You could just tell me where settlement is” she said

“Could” he agreed “But you don’t know terrain you don’t know sentry patterns you don’t know password get you past lookouts You walk in alone wearing Grenville silver they’ll put arrow through your eye before you say three words”

He had point Settlement full of criminals wouldn’t welcome stranger especially one wearing obvious restraints from their enemies

“What guarantee do I have?” she asked

“None” he said simply “Same guarantee you have that I won’t slit your throat once my leg healed take your knife sell your silver Same guarantee I have that you won’t leave me here once I tell you way Trade is gamble always is”

Elinalise considered him in dim light He looked middle-aged face lined with old scars not just today’s pain His eyes watched cave entrance steadily not pleading just stating facts as he saw them

Her own situation crystallized She was alone in wilderness wearing traceable magical restraints curse slowly returning Grenville soldiers searching area She had no food no real shelter no allies His offer however risky represented movement forward not just hiding waiting to be found or consumed by own curse

Vengeance required survival first Survival required getting these manacles off Getting them off required taking risk

“What is your name?” she asked

“Garron” he said “Yours?”

She hesitated “Elina”

“Elina” he repeated giving nothing away whether believed it or not “So deal?”

“What exactly do you need?” she said which wasn’t yes but wasn’t no either

“Need splint for leg then need shoulder lean on Need get over ridge north of here before dawn There’s goat trail soldiers won’t know about”

She crawled out of cave slowly keeping distance between them Knife stayed in hand but pointed down non-threatening posture maybe hopefully

Up close Garron looked worse Leg was definitely broken bone maybe poking through leather breeches dark stain spreading around where he held it His face was pale with shock and blood loss

“First we need splint” she said looking around Stream bank offered nothing but stones and mud

“Cut sapling” Garron gestured toward clump young trees further down ravine “Two straight branches strips from my cloak for binding”

She did as instructed using knife to cut two wrist-thick branches about length of his leg then cutting long strips from thick wool cloak he wore over leather armor Work was slow awkward with manacles on but manageable

When she brought materials back he guided her through process positioning branches on either side of broken leg His instructions were crisp clear man who had done this before probably for others maybe for himself other times

Tightening bindings made him gasp sweat beading on forehead but he didn’t cry out

When done he leaned back breathing heavily “Good enough Now help me up”

Getting him standing was hardest part He was heavy solid muscle under armor She had to duck under his arm take weight on shoulders nearly buckling under load Chain dangling from her waist didn't help tangling around legs twice before she kicked it clear

They stood there swaying for moment him balancing on one leg leaning heavily against her

“Which way?” she asked voice strained

He pointed north along ravine “Hundred paces then climb starts”

First hundred paces took eternity Every step jolted his leg drawing hissed breaths from him Her own muscles protested already exhausted from earlier climb curse-warmth pulsing annoyingly in background like distant drumbeat

They reached base of slope where ravine wall became series rocky ledges rather than sheer cliff

“Goat trail” Garron said pointing upward faint path barely visible in starlight winding between boulders “We go up I guide rest of way after”

Climbing with him was agony They moved inch by inch Her world narrowed to finding next foothold bearing his weight pushing upward Chain around waist became absurd counterweight trying pull her backward off ledge several times

Halfway up slope he stopped panting “Need rest minute”

They slumped against rock shelf He drank more water offered skin to her She took it drank deeply water tasted like cold stone and freedom maybe just imagination but still good

He watched her drink then spoke casually “So what did you do get Grenville silver?”

“Does it matter?” she asked handing skin back

“Not really just curious They don’t use those for petty thieves Usually means magic user political prisoner someone dangerous”

“Maybe I am dangerous” she said

He barked short laugh ended wince pain “Yeah maybe you are Girl who crawls out cave with knife after ambush helps wounded bandit instead running probably has some steel in her alright”

They rested few more minutes silence comfortable in way that surprised her Then he nodded “Alright let’s move dawn not waiting for us”

Final push up slope left them both trembling at top They collapsed onto flat stretch of ground overlooking dark expanse wilderness below road invisible now hidden by terrain ridge they just climbed marked boundary between search zone and somewhere else hopefully

Garron lay on his back staring at sky “We follow ridge line east couple hours then drop down into next valley Settlement there called Crow’s Perch”

Elinalise sat up looking at him then at wilderness ahead then back way they came where soldiers might still be hunting She thought about manacles about curse about long road vengeance suddenly seemed impossibly far away down mountain somewhere lost in fog

But first step was getting these cuffs off First step was following wounded bandit to outlaw blacksmith First step was surviving tonight

“Alright” she said standing up brushing dirt from trousers “Let’s go”