Fugitives: Chapter 9

We arrived outside of a farmhouse, with a huge barn. There was a large quilt hanging outside of the farmhouse, so Zeric decided to risk it. We were low on supplies, and needed help desperately. Razel's wife, Naya, was going into labor.

    When Zeric knocked at the door, an old man and his wife answered it. They immediately helped us, and situated Naya with a room. Luckily, the woman, called Granny Jasie, was a Healer, so she was able to help Naya.

    The rest of us slept in the barn. There were more horses in that barn than there were us refugees, I swear. I tried to sleep, but the neighing kept me up all night, and I was cranky and irritable in the morning. But not for long.

    We received word. Naya's birth had gone succesfuly, and a little boy was born. Naya and Razel named him Torin. Elijah, Kielle and I waited our turns to go in and see him. When we got our turns, we crept in to see Naya lying on a bed, holding little Torin, and Razel, looking so proud he would burst, sitting in a chair beside the bed.

    Torin's skin was a light honey color, with wisps of black hair. He was sleeping now, but occasionally jerked about in his sleep. He had an innocent and sincere look around him, one that I envied.

    Kielle loved Torin, and just stared at him. She declared that he was the most beautifulest thing that she had ever seen. Naya's smile was one of true happiness when she heard that. It transformed her whole face, and made her into a whole different person than the sad one I've come to known. I immediately liked this Naya better.

    Later, I was coming in to grab something for a cut that Kielle had, when I heard Zeric and the old man whispering.

    “Yes, a whole party of them. Had to be at least twenty, maybe thirty slavecatchers. Prince Esryn leads them. They're close by, searching,” the old man said.

    I froze, my heart pounding. Zeric, oblivious to me, asked, “Who are they searching for? Just a group of slaves, or one slave in particular?”

    The old man hesitated. “A young girl, about fourteen years, gold hair. Apparently escaped right under the Prince's nose.”

    Zeric froze. “Gold hair? Young girl, fourteen years? We have-” he broke off, seeing me in for the first time. “Kya?”

    I fought back tears. “He's here? I'm not safe here anymore?”

    Zeric stepped forward, and placed his hands on my shoulders, kneeling down. “Kya, is it you?”

    I nodded, the tears escaping. “Yes. Yes. Prince Esryn is searching for me. I'm the one he's searching for.”