Shadowdance 01 - A Dance of Cloaks

Nava tugged on her wrist, and then after her initial stumble forward, she jerked her entire arm to the side. The sudden pull back surprised the faceless woman, and Alyssa’s thin hand slipped free. She bolted in the opposite direction, praying she had not gotten turned around inside the forest. Branches lashed at her face, and bushes they had easily walked around seemed to suddenly spring up and claw at her legs and ankles. Her attire was silky and thin, a poor guard against the grasping fingers of the forest.
    She heard no shout behind her, but she knew the woman would give chase. She imagined Nava holding a serrated dagger in her left hand, her right reaching for Alyssa’s hair or the neck of her dress. One tug, just one tug, and she’d stumble and fall.
    Her heart soared when she saw the forest’s edge. The trees were spaced farther and farther apart, and she ran more easily. When she dared look behind her, the faceless woman was gone. Then she looked forward again, and a large, masculine shape stepped directly in her path.
    Alyssa cried out, and as rough hands grabbed her arms, she felt her legs weaken at the thought of being raped by a lowborn ruffian.
    “Alyssa?” she heard the man shout, and for a moment she ceased her thrashing. Her eyes opened (she’d never realized she shut them) and then she saw who it was who held her: Yoren Kull, sporting a fresh set of scratch marks on his face.
    Relief broke her tension. She flung her arms around his neck and sobbed against his chest, all the while mumbling incoherently about robbers and ghosts and faceless women.
    “She’ll kill me,” Alyssa shouted once she regained a bit of her wits. She spun and pointed to where Nava approached from the forest, no longer running but instead flowing around the bushes and trees as if her muscles were liquid.
    “Kill you? Why?” Yoren glanced over to the faceless woman, and his right hand drifted to his sword hilt.
    “Don’t be a fool,” Nava said. She pointed to Alyssa. “I was taking her to your camp, but she fled like a child.”
    “Your camp?” asked Alyssa. Her cheeks flushed.
    “Yes, my camp,” Yoren said. He smiled at her, and she felt her flush grow bolder. Gingerly, she touched the scratches she had made, and when she felt no blood she kissed them.
    “Forgive me,” she said. She disentangled herself from his arms and curtseyed in her dirty, torn dress. Her hair was a mess, and no quick wipe from the back of her hand could hide her tears.
    “There is nothing to forgive,” Yoren said, pulling her close and kissing her forehead. “All is safe now. All is safe.”
    Her sobbing began anew. After her time in the cells, shivering in the cold and desperate for conversation, to hear comfort and concern in his voice was more than she could bear. If he was embarrassed, he did not show it. She felt his arms tighten around her. With her face buried against his neck, she did not see the cold glare he shot to Nava, who only sheathed her dagger and glided back into the woods.
    “I expected all three of you back last night,” Yoren explained once they were deep in the woods. Alyssa sat next to him, the warmth of the fire divine on her cold flesh. Nava sat opposite them, keeping her distance from the flame.
    “There were complications,” Nava explained.
    “If Alyssa is hiding here with me, I can imagine so,” Yoren said. “She should be the ruler of the Gemcroft estate, not a runaway outcast. How did you fail so spectacularly?”
    “They were ready,” Nava said. “When Eliora and Zusa return, they will tell you the same thing. Hundreds of mercenaries hid within the walls. You fooled no one with your attempt to use Alyssa, and surprised them only in your choice of aid. We should all be dead.”
    “I was told you never failed,” Yoren said. He had tied his blond hair behind his head, giving his face a stretched, dangerous look. “I was told even Thren Felhorn would quake if he knew you came for him; so how did some fool-headed merchant defeat you so easily?”
    “If you had come,” Nava said, her voice cold enough to freeze water, “then you might have seen for yourself. You’d have died, but at least you’d have your answer.”
    Alyssa thought he might reach for his sword, but before he could, the rest of the faceless women arrived. Nava greeted the others with curt nods. They sat side by side near the fire, facing Yoren and Alyssa.
    “Why are you alone out here?” Eliora asked him. “Shouldn’t