Basha hadn’t intended on making her way to the border, nor of exposing Therese to the risks there, but when Marshall informed Lucy and the others in the City of Light, of the urgency of the situation, she relented. Two hundred and fifty Oathtakers accompanied her to his camp. None of those troops, trained for warfare and now in top fighting shape, had living charges of their own. Thus, she told herself, they could assist in keeping Therese safe. Further, Effie and Fleet had commissioned a number of flits to travel with her. They would provide the means for her and Lucy to communicate regularly. Still, she worried, since after she’d informed Trumble of her intentions, he insisted that he and his charge would accompany her as well. Despite her cautions to the contrary, he felt certain that Felicity’s connection to the twins would be of help to her and his other new-found friends and colleagues.
Given that the palace was situated fairly close to the border, within days after setting out, Basha and her entourage arrived at Marshall’s camp. It was situated at a spot approximately a league—the distance a person could walk in an hour—from Chiran. There, they would set up their accommodations.
Her first order of business was to find Marshall, who assured her that his company would assist her group in getting things in order. Then she addressed those under her command.
“Let’s get to it!” she ordered. “Everyone to their assigned duties!”
The air filled with the clamoring of weapons and tack as those tasked to see to their mounts, did so. Others set up tents. Still others quickly prepared campfires, expecting the night would grow colder. Meanwhile, several people attended to preparing dinner for the lot of them. Finally, those designated to keep an eye out for potential danger, spread out, along with some of Marshall’s troops, in all directions. They would act as sentries, changing out for freshly rested replacements every few hours.
After informing Marshall of her plans to scout out their surroundings, Basha and Trumble set out on foot for a better look at the area.
“Marshall confirmed that a number of young men have been making their way across the border near here,” Basha said. “He believes they may have been trained by the Chiranian guard.”
“That may account for some of Felicity’s recent troubles,” Trumble replied.
“Oh? She’s having problems?”
“Nightmares—about the men in black—again. I suppose that was to be expected. After all, you will recall that she tried to warn us about the possible capture of Mara and the twins.”
“Yes.”
Basha winced as she recollected a spell Felicity suffered shortly before Mara and the twins had set out on their mission. Out of the blue one evening, the girl had crumbled into a heap on the floor of the palace dining room. Everyone present had rushed to assist her, but not even Trumble could ease her pain. Hours later, she still sat, nearly comatose, staring into space, trembling and weeping. When she finally spoke the next morning, she simply repeated the same phrase, over and over again: “The trap is sprung. The trap is sprung!”
Unfortunately, as Trumble was unable to decipher her meaning, Basha had not provided Lucy with advance warning. Later she learned that it was the very next day that Zarek’s men had taken Mara and the twins captive, quite near where Basha now stood. Since then, Felicity had suffered long spells during which she refused to communicate with anyone.
Basha worried for the girl; she looked deathly. Her eyes were sunken and red, and ever-present dark circles graced the hollows beneath them. Moreover, she often refused to eat, and she’d dropped weight. She looked less like a sprite—and more like a ghoul—by the day.
“I wish you’d stayed back at the palace with her,” Basha finally said. As much as she enjoyed Trumble’s company, she also realized that his nearness to her presented its own difficulty, namely, staying true to her oath; he moved her as no other man had ever done. Moreover, it put Felicity in harm’s way. “It would have been safer,” she added.
He glanced at her. “What? And miss out on all the fun?”
When her eyes met his, she smiled. “I’m concerned for her, but I’m glad you’re . . . That is, we can certainly use your assistance here.”
Just then, Trumble ducked down behind a nearby tree trunk. He grabbed Basha’s elbow and pulled her toward himself even as he directed her attention, with a nod, at something ahead.
Dusk had descended, making visibility difficult, but then Basha made out movement before them. Keeping her eyes on it, she crouched down at his side. From there they watched as three young men made their way toward them. The last in line held a rope. It was tied at its other end, around a young woman’s neck. Repeatedly stumbling, the gag over her mouth muffled her cries. All the while, her captors talked and laughed as though nothing was amiss.
When the group came within a few feet of the hidden Oathtakers, the leader spoke. “The border’s just that way,” he said, pointing. “We’ll be able to deliver her tomorrow.”
Another of the youths chuckled. “We’ve still got tonight then,” he said.
Basha’s stomach turned. There was no mistaking the young hoodlum’s intentions.
“Ha!” the leader laughed. “I don’t know. She’s worth more to us if we deliver her . . . unhandled. Still, I suppose we could take less for this one—make the most of our time with her while we can.”
Trumble caught Basha’s eye. Then he glanced toward the first of the youngsters as he soundlessly unsheathed his blade, Amora. Looking back at his cohort again, he pointed toward the last of the hoodlums.
She understood his gesture. He would take out the first of the youths, she the last. Once done, they would see to the remaining captor.
Quickly, she unsheathed her blade, Honora.
He lifted one finger and mouthed the word, “One,” then another as he mouthed the word, “two,” and finally, he held up a third finger as he whispered, “three.”
Immediately and simultaneously, the Oathtakers jumped out from their hiding place and threw their blades. So unexpected was their attack that when each of their targets fell, the remaining youth stood frozen for a moment. Then, once he’d processed the situation, he reached for a weapon.
By that time, Trumble was once again armed. He threw his blade. It found purchase in the young man’s chest.
He dropped. His screech mingled with the muffled screams from the woman he and his comrades had held captive.
Basha retrieved Honora and then ran to the girl. “I’ve got you,” she said. “Everything is fine now.” Quickly, she removed her gag.
The girl’s piercing scream rent the air.
“Quiet!” the Oathtaker cautioned, holding her hand over her mouth. “There may be more out there! Do you understand?”
Her eyes wide, her breath heaving, the girl nodded.
“Good.” Basha released her. Then she slipped the rope off from around her neck, and cut the bindings at her wrists.
“Oh, thank Ehyeh you’ve come!” she cried.
“Do you know if there are any more of them out there?” Basha asked, her eyes scanning the line of trees ahead.
“I’ll look around,” Trumble offered. Then with Amora in hand, he turned away.
“I haven’t seen anyone else for a few days now,” the girl said.
“What happened?” Basha asked.
The young woman, likely in her mid-teens, pointed at her former captors. “They nabbed me and told me they intended to deliver me to ‘Succedunt.’”
Basha cringed.
“You’ve heard of it?” she asked. “This ‘Succedunt’ place, I mean?”
“It’s not a ‘where,’ it’s a ‘who,’” Basha said. She proceeded to explain to the girl who the succedunt were.
She covered her mouth with her hand. “I had no idea what they were talking about. Oh, thank you for coming!”
Just then, Trumble returned. “I didn’t see any more,” he said, “but we’d best get back as quickly as possible.”
“Right.” Stepping away, Basha motioned for the girl to follow. “I’m Basha,” she introduced herself, “and this is Trumble,” she added, tipping her head in his direction.
“I’m Nadine,” the girl responded. “Where are you taking me?”
Basha explained how they’d come to stay near the border in the event the Chiranians invaded Oosa. By the time she was through with her story, they’d arrived back at camp.
“You can stay with us here tonight,” she said, “and then make your way back home in the morning.”
The girl stopped cold. “But I haven’t a home to go back to. It was just my older sister and me—and she went missing several weeks ago. When those young men took me, they burned our house down.” A tear trickled down her cheek. “I suppose they must have been the same ones who kidnapped my sister.” She paused, in thought. “Goodness! I need to rescue her!”
Basha shook her head. “I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t even try. You heard them. They intended to sell you. No doubt they sold your sister already—and there’s no way to know where it is in Chiran that she might be now.”
The girl choked back a sob. “May I stay here with you then?”
“Truly, that’s not a good idea. It really wouldn’t be safe. But we can give you directions to somewhere that might be.”
She took the girl’s arm and headed toward her tent. “Don’t worry now. We’ll help you.”
After grabbing a quick meal, Trumble saw Felicity to bed. Then he returned to the main bonfire in the midst of camp where Basha sat. As he neared, the frozen ground crunched under his footsteps.
She glanced his way as he sat down a few feet away. “Is she sleeping?” she asked him.
“Yes. Raiden’s keeping an eye on her.”
“Good.”
At that moment, Therese arrived. She sat at her Oathtaker’s other side.
Basha put more fuel on the fire. As sparks flew up into the air, she asked her, “Is Nadine all right?”
“Yes, I think she’ll be fine. I left her with Chaya and Erin. They’ll add her to the others for whom they’re making arrangements. Marshall says they’ve been sending a group off about every other week.”
“Good.”
“Yes. Some Oathtakers will escort them to a nearby city. Then they’ll work with the sanctuary there to arrange for homes for the youngest of them, and to find work for some of the older ones.”
For a moment, all was quiet.
“They’ll set out first thing tomorrow morning,” Therese added.
Basha sighed. “Marshall says that they’ve seen this before—young Oosian women taken captive for sale in Chiran.”
“It’s disgusting.”
“It certainly is,” Trumble agreed.
Just then, a scream sounded out.
“That’s Felicity!” Basha cried as the three all jumped to their feet.
They ran to Trumble’s wagon, skirting their fellow campers along the way. As they neared, Basha pushed through a group congregated nearby.
Upon their arrival, Raiden jumped down. When he caught sight of Trumble, he visibly relaxed.
“What is it?” Trumble asked.
“I don’t know,” Raiden said, shaking his head. “She was sleeping peacefully, but then she screamed suddenly. She’s in there now, crying. Great Ehyeh, she sounds so desperate. She’s . . . inconsolable.”
Trumble stepped up at the back of the wagon and entered it, Basha, at his heels. Once inside, she made a flare. She used it to light a nearby lamp.
Felicity sat, staring into nothingness, weeping uncontrollably. Her shoulders shook with the fury of her despair.
“Felicity?” Trumble called her, as he took her hands.
Her eyes wild, she turned his way. “You have to help her,” she pleaded.
“Who?”
“Ella.” A cry escaped her.
“Who is ‘Ella’?” he asked.
She closed her eyes. “She’ll waste away. Someone must rescue her.”
Basha stroked the girl’s hair. “Shhh . . . Shhhh, now,” she said.
Felicity reached out for her. “Will you help her?” she asked.
“Who?”
“I told you. Ella. She’s too weak.” She pulled back, then looked again at her Oathtaker.
Trumble pressed her shoulders back. “You need to sleep now,” he said. “We’ll do what we can for Ella.”
Moments later, Felicity closed her eyes. The spell having passed, she drifted off to sleep.
“Who is she talking about?” Basha asked.
Trumble shook his head.
“Has she done this before?”
“She asked me to pray with her last night for ‘Ella,’ and I did, but like I said, I’ve no idea who she’s talking about.”
Basha was baffled, as she also, knew of no “Ella” to whom the girl might be referring.
“Is there anyone in Little Creek by that name?” she asked.
“No. To the best of my knowledge, Felicity has never met anyone by that name.”
“Huh. Well, she’s resting easy now, anyway.” Basha turned to go. “I’ll ask around to see if anyone knows who she might be talking about. I suppose it could be one of the children we’ve taken in.”
“Good idea. Thank you.”