26 Escaping one’s fate

  “Damn it!” Joseph said, rushing after her, but came to a halt with a fierce force around his wrist. He realized that his hand was tied to the tree. How could she do that without him noticing? He pulled a knife out of his footwear and tore the rope. Then he started following her. She was fast, but Joseph was determined. He ran at a speed he had never tried before, getting slapped in the face by the leaves and the branches, and feeling annoyed that the Pedlar was so good at ducking them.

  With a loud thump, the Pedlar got stuck in a trap. A rope tightened around her foot and pulled her upward, hanging her upside down like prey. Joseph reached her and saw her in the air with the rope around her ankle and her hood around her head since the gravity had pulled it down. She saw Joseph through the hood and sighed while swinging to free herself.

  Joseph put his hands on his hips. “Really?” he asked, watching the speed of her swinging decrease. “Are you not done running away?”

  The Pedlar said nothing, pushing the hood out of her face to lessen the embarrassment. Joseph approached her and stopped the last bit of energy left in the rope. Her eyes came to the same level as his lips, and she felt self-conscious to be in such a position. He looked her in the eye while holding her by her shoulder in the air.

  “Why did you run away?” Joseph asked without blaming her.

  “I always do.”

  “Why?”

  “Because nowhere is safe for me.”

  “I told you I would protect you.”

  “A woman is never safe.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “It is. Not in any part of the world. That’s why I chose the hood to hide myself. The things that are condemned if done by a woman, are praised if done by men.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “As a woman, I am a witch and hated by everyone, but as a man, I am a Pedlar and a healer. A woman with sight is called mad, but a man with sight is called a prophet. And now as an heir, I am a woman therefore I shall die. But if I were a man, they wouldn’t dare to hurt me.”

  Joseph hated that, but it was true. He got closer to her. “I would never hurt you.”

  “You know too much about me.”

  “I don’t even know your name yet.”

  “You know everything else.”

  “And what if I do?”

  “No one has ever known me this much.”

  It became clear to Joseph that she was shielding herself by running away. Joseph used to do the same by working, drinking, and mostly self-isolating. He watched her eyes, realizing how similar her character was to his while securing her head with his hands so she wouldn’t feel bad hanging upside-down.

  “Even after all I said,” he said, not parting his gaze from hers. “You don’t trust me.”

  “I do trust you, Lord Mainwood,” the pedlar said, and his eyes smiled, but it didn’t last long for her to say something and ruin it for him. “That’s the problem.”

  “How is it the problem?”

  “You could hurt me because I would let you do so.”

  Was that a confession to something deep? Why was it so hard to make her talk? He couldn’t complain because he was just as bad at expressing his feelings. Joseph dared to move his fingers to her lips, approaching her even more. His face was now so close that he could put his lips on her cheek and kiss her. His breath touched her warm skin, tickling her. She didn’t push him away. But his conscience stopped him. Slowly, he pulled back and dragged her down, cutting the rope at her ankle. She fell on the ground with a thud, her back hurting.

  “Are you all right?” Joseph said, helping her get back on her feet.

  “I’m a bit dizzy.” She kept stumbling back and forth. Something cracked under her foot, and Joseph heard a swishing. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he held her and shielded her from whatever dangerous thing was awaiting them. Something hit Joseph on his arm, making him lose his balance.

  The Pedlar was shocked and scared. “What happened?” She freed herself from Joseph’s hold and checked him to see if he was all right. An arrow was in his arm. She frowned. “My God! What is that? Let me see!”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Joseph glanced down at his arm as if he had only noticed it. “I’m fine,” he said. The sight made him a bit sick, so he decided not to look at it anymore.

  The Pedlar looked around. The darkness was unmatched. “Do you think a trap did this? Or a man?”

  “If it were a man, his aiming needs training. He missed my heart.”

  She frowned at him. “Do you think this is a joke?”

  “I think my life is.”

  “That tongue of yours!” She said, and Joseph agreed. He hated it too. She got closer to him. “Let me help you."

  Joseph stopped her hand. “It’s unnecessary.”

  Those were the same words she kept telling him, and she almost cursed him for mirroring her stubbornness. “You will get an infection. Please. It’s the least I can do.” The depth of his wound was worse than she thought. “It’s too dark here,” she insisted. “Let us go to my cabin.”

  “Your cabin?”

  “It’s close to the Fairy Lake.”

  Joseph nodded. “All right.”

  They entered the cabin. Joseph’s pain was growing. He kept hiding his grunts, but it was getting out of hand. The Pedlar lit a lantern and a few candles. Joseph noticed the cabin was too small. It was probably her shelter from everyone since she liked escaping people. The Pedlar grabbed alcohol and a few cloths to wrap around Joseph’s wound. Joseph sat in a chair, and she sat in another close to him. She tore his sleeve without a warning, wiped the blood off his wound, and poured alcohol on it. Joseph grunted in pain.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, inspecting his wound. The arrow had to be removed immediately. But it would hurt him gravely.

  Joseph looked at her. “Why are you sorry? You didn’t shoot me.”

  “I believe that was a trap that I triggered by pulling the thread with my feet. That place was filled with traps. I must apologize and thank you. You saved my life again.”

  “You would do the same.”

  Pedlar’s hold on his arm tightened. “Forgive me for this.”

  “I told you it’s fine—”

  With a fast tug, the Pedlar pulled the arrow out of his arm, and Joseph shouted in pain. The Pedlar held his wound tightly. “I know,” she said with furrowed eyebrows. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t lift her hand until Joseph eased a bit. Then she immediately rubbed something green on his wound and started wrapping the clean fabric around it.

  “How could you?” Joseph asked with a deep frown. His entire body was shaking.

  “I’m sorry!” she said while tightening the cloth. “I really am.”

  “You talked to me to distract me. That’s wicked.”

  “It’s how it’s done.” She put a hand under his chin and lifted his head so he wouldn’t look at the wound. “Look at me. Take a deep breath.”

  Joseph did as she asked and looked up at her face. “Do you think your distraction will work?” he asked, already feeling better by not seeing the wound.

  She smiled. “I’ve been told it does not.”

  “They have lied.”

  She felt a faint blush rising to her cheeks. Joseph admired her even more now, forgetting about the pain as he watched her face.

  “You don’t owe me anymore,” she said, securing the fabric on his wound by pulling it.

  Joseph was caught off guard. “What?”

  “You have saved my life three times,” she said, finishing the bandaging. “You don’t have to save me anymore. I will protect myself.”

  Joseph sighed. “We discussed it.”

  She looked at him. “Yes. You told me you only wish to pay your debt. And your debt is paid.” She was right. He hated that she was right. It meant that he had no other excuse to stay with her and protect her.

  “So,” she said, fixing his torn clothes and gently removing them from his body, “You can return to England now.” Her touch was soothing, but her words stung. “You don’t have any obligations to me.”

  Joseph’s heart sank. He felt enraged, not toward her, but himself and his cowardice. There was no excuse for him to stay anymore, at least that’s what she thought. What she didn’t know was the spark she had caused in him. He put a hand on hers to stop her from removing the clothes. She looked back at him as her hand was still in his. “I don’t give a damn about obligations,” he said, holding her gaze. “Don’t you see how desperate I am?”

  “Desperate?”

  “Yes.”

  “For what?”

  “For you.”

  She gulped hard, not knowing what to say. Joseph’s hand tightened around her fingers. “What is that supposed to mean?” she asked, looking beautiful as ever in the lantern’s dim light.

  “Stop acting like you don’t feel it. It means that I care for you,” he said, leaning toward her. “That I yearn for you, and I dream of you closer and more often.”

  Her heart thumped in her chest. He had finally said what she anticipated. She realized that she had been waiting for his confession, counting on it and longing for it since she was filled with the same affection toward him. He was a stern but charming man. She couldn’t resist something about him and didn’t know what it was. Perhaps it was the fact that he didn’t quit pursuing her no matter what.

  Her hand stayed in Joseph’s. Being vulnerable to a man only endangered her life more than it already was. She looked down to stay focused. His words could be a sudden outburst after a fatal injury. “You’re losing blood,” she said to bring him to his senses.

  Joseph wanted to touch her face, but as he moved his arm, a sudden pain struck him, and he winced in pain.

  “I’m sorry,” She said, taking her hand away. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “You didn’t,” Joseph said softly.

  “You can sleep here tonight. You will get worse if you leave." She fixed her sleeves. "It won’t be wise to be on the road when it rains.”

  Joseph was annoyed with her lack of response. “It’s not raining.”

  “No, but it will. I can smell it.”

  An odd feeling grew in Joseph. “You can smell the rain before it pours?” he asked, ensuring he understood correctly.

  “Sure. It has a specific scent like fresh mud or something like that.”

  It was exactly what Joseph smelled too before it poured, but he could never describe it. Now that the Pedlar said it, he realized he smelled the same thing, but no one understood him, and they made him feel strange for saying rain has a scent.

  “If you need anything,” the pedlar said, oblivious to his thoughts as she stood, “you can call me. I will be close.”

  Joseph said nothing. She finally looked at him. “Yes?” she asked, waiting for his confirmation.

  Joseph nodded. She wanted to walk away, but Joseph’s hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her toward him. She fell on him on the chair and steadied her body with his bare chest. His face was only an inch away. The Pedlar’s breathing turned fast. She watched his lips part.

  “Stay with me,” Joseph said, pleading with his eyes and body.