Cade 8

Cade came awake slowly. He felt groggy and disoriented. For just a moment, he thought he was back in the hideout, but quickly realized that couldn't be the case. For one thing, he was being jounced up and down mercilessly. For another, he saw only the steely grey of an open sky overhead. He panicked and tried to sit up, but was weak. He did manage to struggle to a seated position after a few moments, but by then the sharpest edges of his panic had worn down. He didn't appear to be in any immediate danger, he wasn't bound, and the man guiding the horsecart was whistling. Cade didn't know if bad men whistled such jaunty tunes, but he didn't think so.

He took a moment to gather his senses and take stock of his situation. He definitely wasn't in the city anymore. How had he gotten here? The last thing he remembered was waking up and deciding he needed a new jacket. What had happened? Had he fallen ill? He was still wondering about these things when the man, whom he'd already nearly forgotten, turned and spoke.

“Ah, you're awake. I was wondering if you'd make it. Andersen said you'd be alright if you made it through the first night, but I wasn't so sure. It's day five now, and you sure did take your time waking up, didn't you?” Cade was puzzled.

“Who are you? Where am I? Why aren't we in the city?” he asked. The man seemed happy to answer.

“My name is Benson. You're in the back of my wagon, and I'm a trader. Andersen and I, we ride a circuit south in the winter, and north in the summer, then back again.” Cade shook his head as he tried to sort what was important from what wasn't. This all seemed like too much, and he was feeling emotional and overwhelmed.

“But why am I with you?” he pressed. Now it was the man's turn to look puzzled.

“Well boy, I saved your life. Well, Andersen found you, but we saved your life at any rate. You were half froze to death. We hauled you in, laid you next to the fire for two days, but you slept like a stone. We had to continue on, and so... it was either bring you with us, or put you back out. We asked around a little, no one at the market said they knew you. I suppose we could have put you back out on the ice. You'd have frozen to death, but at least you wouldn't have had the unpleasant experience of waking up in the back of my horsecart.” This Benson is a talker, Cade thought, the kind of man who never used three words when four would do. He felt in his pocket for his copper shank, but it was gone. So too were his clothes. He was dressed now in long woolen underwear, the kind the merchant class let show under their fancy buttoned shirts. Cade had always thought buttons were for men who had more concern for fashion than time or money. Buttons were for men who had no need to rely on copper of any sort. Their silver and gold would likely sort them out fine, whatever trouble came their way. Cade immediately became bitter and resentful toward them. He wanted to return to Pole, Shine and Whistle. He wanted to return to the hideout. He considered standing, but the cart was bouncing along the road and he felt weak and unsteady.

“Where are my clothes?” he snapped. “I want my clothes. I need my belt. Where's my purse?” He felt himself becoming frantic, and took a deep breath, steadying himself. The man answered without turning to face him this time.

“We've got it all in a trunk. Tell ya what, we'll get you sorted out when we stop to camp for the evening. You can tell us a little bit about yourself. We've been wondering what sort of boy goes out half dressed and half-armed in the cold like ya did. Why sure enough we were debating that very question the night before last. Andersen, he says you're likely a pickpocket, or maybe even a housebreaker, but me I says nah, I reckon you've got an honest face and more likely you're some kind of apprentice.” He paused. “The kind of apprentice with no master, but who might like to have one. To have a chance to make an honest wage and stop living life on the margins.” Cade answered this with cold silence. “So,” he continued, “you go right on ahead and think about which one of us might be right, and if it's Andersen, well then you can go right on your way at day break. You're smart, you won't want to leave before then anyway. I guess you must be pretty tired, so why don't you lie back down and have a rest. Nothing to see out here but trees anyway.” Cade didn't know what to say, so he did as Benson suggested. He was feeling tired.

They made camp that evening, pulling their wagon off of the road and into a clearing. They ate rabbit stew, the two older men prodding Cade with questions and Cade fending them off. Where he couldn't change the subject, he was vague. When he couldn't be vague, he lied outright. He made no effort to hide his reluctance, and they didn't pry too deep.

Despite his initial feelings of contempt and resentment toward the two men, they had saved his life, and it was hard to dislike someone when they'd given you a bowl of stew and a fire to keep you warm at night. It was more than he'd been given in a long time. Cade looked at them across the dwindling fire. They were in their forties, with greying hair, long beards and sun-darkened, leathery skin. They looked like brothers, or like two friends who'd spent so much time together they began to look alike.

They hadn't been able to find his clothes or his purse, it was tucked into one of their trunks and it would have made for half a day's work to sift through all of their goods to find it. They did, however, give him a bedroll and a blanket. He settled by the fire and lay up at the sky, half of him longing for the hideout, half of him feeling guilty for not wanting to go back. Drowsiness hit him hard, and he fell into a deep sleep.

When he awoke he was, once again, in the back of the horsecart moving down the road. Cade was surprised to see that it looked like early afternoon. How had they gotten him into the cart without waking him? He'd never been a heavy sleeper.

“How long have we been on the road?” he called up to Andersen, who was driving today. Andersen turned.

“Oh, three or four hours I reckon. You seemed like you needed your rest, so we didn't bother waking you.” Cade looked around, curious.

“Where is Benson? And where were you, yesterday? I didn't see you until we made camp.” There was laughter in Andersen' voice as he answered.

“Someone has to ride ahead, boy. Keep an eye out.” Cade waited for the man to continue, but he didn't seem to be the talker that Benson was. They rode on for a ways, and finally it was Andersen who broke the silence. “If you're hungry, there's bread and a mite of cheese in a packsack back there. There's a skin of broth as well. Rustle it up and pass it this way.” Cade did. He wasn't feeling very hungry, but he'd learned not to pass up an opportunity to eat. The bread was stale and the cheese sharp, but he'd had worse lunches or none at all in the years before, and he was satisfied. He washed it all down with the broth and laid back feeling comfortable. I'll give these two the slip at the next town, then make my way back to the city, Cade promised himself. He watched the sky for a while and drifted off to sleep.

He awoke, surprised he'd fallen asleep again. He felt groggy and disoriented as he sat up and looked around. They were climbing a long, gradual hill and the road was, Cade noticed, cobbled. Excited, he waited until they had nearly crested the hill, jumped out of the wagon and ran ahead. Far below he saw houses, and lights in windows. There were no stone walls, but there was a large building, maybe an inn or a tavern, and a well, and people. Cade smiled broadly and let out a whoop.

“Hey now boy,” Andersen called, “don't hurt yourself. We're almost there, it wouldn't do to have you twist an ankle on the way down the hard way.” Cade only laughed. He walked for a while beside the cart, but it was farther than he'd expected and soon he climbed back up to ride the rest of the way into town.

“I feel so... tired.” he complained. Andersen looked back briefly, then answered.

“You had a rough week, boy. When we found you, you'd almost frozen to death. You slept for three days after that. We weren't sure you'd even make it.” He left it at that, and they rolled into town a short while later.