The man's trail was hardly difficult to follow. He was a hulking beast of a fellow on his own, but dragging a full-grown deer along the forest floor was as good as laying down paving stones. She had waited there by the stream, allowing him to gain a considerable distance, beyond sight and sound. And then she followed.
The flattened grass, torn-up soil, and bent-over saplings streaked with blood announced where he'd gone, and while there was no sign that he'd stopped, she kept a cautious hand lightly set upon the handle of her knife. The wood was hushed, as if holding its breath, while her soft leather boots beat a steady, quiet rhythm along the path he'd left behind. At some point, the wide swath of a dragged carcass was replaced with boot prints and what appeared to be the rut of a wheel, indicating the deer had been placed on some sort of barrow or cart.
At length, distant sounds began filtering through the cool, sunlit air. Voices speaking, calling out to each other. The high lilt of women and children were noted first, and then the lower timbre of men, both young and old, as she crept closer. Departing the path the branded man had taken, she made her way up along a sloping rise, crawling in a crouch as she neared the crest. A pleasant spring breeze fluttered over the small hill, carrying with it scents of civilization; cooking fires, food being prepared, the tang of refuse and hard-worked bodies that had not seen a bath. The voices were many, and her forehead puckered. How big *is* this man’s camp? she thought.
From her perch above, she crawled through the trees and found herself on a ledge, looking down into a camp that was stunningly vast, and not at all what she had expected to see. A maze of tents of varying sizes. Dozens of people milling about. A bewildering cacophony of low chatter, laughter, shouting, crying children, bellowing men, barking dogs.
She sat down, drawing her legs up and wrapping her hands about them. Her eyes swept from side to side over the scene below, quietly absorbing how many tents there were, an approximate number of people, whether folks were carrying weapons, and what the point of it all seemed to be. An alternative to life in the Alley? she mused. Where did all these folk come from? What’s to be gained from living in the woods in tents like Blackwolds?
A hand moved to prop her chin up, her elbow resting against her knee. The morning passed, and she simply watched. Surely, the Bree Watch knew of this place. The magnitude of it was impossible to miss, and she was hardly the only one who ventured through the Chetwood and would’ve stumbled upon it, or overheard the ruckus from afar. If this were the source of the small group she’d bumped into near the Road, and the “barrel-thrower” who’d tried to grab her, and then kill her when she proved ungrabbable, then it was hard to believe their existence was entirely peaceful and innocuous.
Not like I can do anything, though. One girl with one bow. And what if some of these people aren’t troublemakers at all? Smart man to surround himself with women and children so no one dares to storm in with swords drawn and torches blazing.
A voice echoed softly in the back of her mind. “It’s not your duty. Walk away and be safe.”
She scowled at the unbidden thought. Go away. You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. How long has it been? Half a year? Have you even bothered to see if I’m still alive and didn’t die in the wilds of that fever? You gave up your right to have any say in what I think or feel or do when you so skillfully pulverized any shred of friendship, trust, and affection that was once between us.
The sounds of the camp below seemed distorted now, and she rubbed the heels of her hands roughly over her eyes, trying to blot out the voices arguing inside her skull. As if by reflex, her fingers trembled to her throat, sliding over the smooth, cold metal of the bow-shaped brooch that held her cloak round her neck. Her breath was exhaled, and her muscles relaxed again. The bickering voices were gradually replaced by images that drew a faint smile, and eased the frustrated lines along her brow.
Taking a slow breath inward, she angled her gaze once again to the camp below, and returned to her watching.
