I was eleven, I think, when I made the decision to move on.
Escgel had long since acquired that which he needed to go home, but he had stayed with the group in order to keep a watch over me, as well as to continue his campaign to convince me that I should return with him to a stable life and learn to be a proper lady. I had resisted his every attempt to talk me into such a life of drudgery. Fancy clothing and spending all day doing embroidery? No thank you! The very idea of such an existance filled me with dread.
Having lived as I did during these past few years, I felt free and unencumbered by the bounds of society. I could choose where and when I went, what to do when I got there, how to act and not once have to worry about what other people thought of it. Of course, it was necessary to consider the implications of being caught, but that was a small price to pay for being able to stretch my wings as wide as I did. Escgel's offer, whilst promising a comort and stability that my life then certainly lacked, also demanded conformity to a social structure for which I held only contempt.
So it was that one dark eve, after a rather boisterous round of celebration from the men for a raid gone well, I made my move. Utilising many of the skills Escgel had taught me, along with some I had picked up myself along the way, I slipped through the camp in the dead of night, careful not to disturb a soul. Being the type of men they were, and having consumed as much alcohol as they had, I could have marched through the lot of them shrieking at the top of my lungs and not woken a single one, but I was careful anyway - mostly for the sheer fun of it.
Light on my feet even then, I danced my way between the slumbering shapes upon the ground, slid myself under the canvas wall of the tent belonging to our glorious leader, and made my way over to the woven rug. Lifting it aside, I pulled out the small chest within, picked the shoddy lock with a bent piece of metal and retrieved the bags of coins hidden within. After stuffing them carefuly - to avoid unnecessarily clinking - into a scrip, I placed the box back into the hole, covered it once more and made my escape.
I headed back to my own bedroll as stealthily as I had come, only to find a grim-faced Escgel awaiting my return. He looked me over, saw what I carried and grimaced a little.
"You've decided to leave then," he said quietly.
"I thought it time," I agreed, placing the scrip at my feet.
"And with the takings too, from the sound of it," he observed, motioning toward the bag. I simply nodded, seeing no point in lying about it. "You know that they will come after you."
"Not if I have anything to do with it," I shrugged, unconcerned by his prediction. I had long since decided what I would do upon my departure from this group.
"Betrayal then, little bird?" he arched an eyebrow with the question, then both his expression and tone became stern. "They have been good to you."
"They've used me," I snorted incredulously. "And tormented me. Everything I've learned is from you and them, and I am not stupid Uncle. They'd have cast me aside long ago, left me to rot in a shallow grave, if I'd not continued to be useful to them. Well, they're of no further use to me!"
"A pre-emptive strike? Is that it?"
"If you want to call it so," I shrugged again as I set about gathering my scant belongings together. My bedroll, a few changes of clothing, a plate, fork, knife and a cup. All of these went into the scrip with the money, being forcibly shoved when the clothing proved a little more space consuming than I had thought it would be.
"I suppose I should depart as well then," he sighed, the leather of his clothing creaking as he pushed himself to his feet. I fancied it was not his clothing at all but his old bones making the sound. "Will you not come with me?"
"I won't," I said, as I had so many times before. "But I'll try to keep in touch. Goodbye Uncle Escgel."
We hugged then, him holding me so tightly as if he feared to let go. Let go he did, though, and we both went our seperate ways. At first I walked but as my mood lifted with each passing tread away from that place, I found a spring to my step that soon enough coaxed me into running, joyful laughter floating behind me upon the pre-dawn breeze.
Two days it took me to reach the nearest settlement and only half a day more to do that which I had planned. By early evening, I was on the road again, provisions and money upon my back in a new larger scrip, secure in the knowledge that the local Riders would be out seeking my erstwhile companions thus preventing them from finding me.
I heard some weeks later that a large and organised group of bandits had been run down by some Riders over in the Westfolde and that there had been no survivors amongst the brigands. I heard too that the Riders had struck just before dawn, ambushing the hapless camp-dwellers. That news made me smile from ear to ear as I sat within the tavern of a small settlement, picking my next victim from the bawdy crowd.
