The Long Road Back Part One

Writers: Miriah, Yvonne
Date Posted: 9th December 2020
Series: The Assassin's Husband

Characters: Lusilk, Olov
Description: Olov and Lusilk travel to Sunstone Sea Hold through the wilderness
Location: Elsewhere on Pern
Date: month 7, day 22 of Turn 10
Notes: Mentioned: Lorican, Bryvin, Varlin

Lusilk

Lusilk huddled under the outcropping, jaw tense as the leathery snap
of wings sounded far over head. The bitter cold of the morning stung
her nostrils, but she kept her breath shallow to reduce the fog that
emerged from her mouth. There'd been no messages, any sign that her
diversion had worked. The dragon flying overhead could be doing
sweeps, or they could be actively searching for an escaped murderer:
her. With little leaves on the trees except the occasional evergreen,
they'd been lucky to find the stone outcropping to hide them.

The dragons passed, but Olov didn't start to move again until well
after the sound of their wings was lost to the faint rustle of fallen
leaves and the whistle of the wind. He glanced at the sun to get his
bearings, then started off again through the brush, leading his
chestnut equine behind him. They'd been gone five days so far and now
that they were further from the Hold, it was safer to move during
daylight again.

Until he'd been back in the woods, on his own, Olov hadn't realized
how much he'd missed it. Living at a Hold meant regular meals and a
warm bed, but it also meant too many people, too much noise and too
many things to dull his senses. The wind was cold but it felt like it
scoured his head clean. It helped that Silk was much less irritating
than most of the people he knew, Holders and Holdless. Grudgingly he'd
found himself warming to her, even though his shoulder blades still
prickled in anticipation of a knife in the back every time he turned
away from her.

Lusilk was quiet as she walked her runner in a single file behind
Olov, clearing the brush to mar their tracks in case there were others
on foot searching. She didn't make much noise, nor did she feel the
need to speak to break the silence. She kept pace easily enough,
though at times it was difficult to match the man's longer stride
without feeling searing pain along her side and leg. The burn was
slowly healing, but the rawness of the new flesh was often irritated
by the rough material of her trousers. Her ribs were a constant ache;
the bruises had deepened to an ugly purpleish green that showed no
sign of fading. Her broken cheekbone ached in the cold, but the cold
of the air had reduced the swelling. Still, she didn't complain. The
pain couldn't be helped and stopping for rest too often wasn't an
option.

Her eyes occasionally studied the bigger man as they walked. His
senses were apparently sharp, because every time her eyes lingered,
his shoulders gave a little twitch. So, she amused herself by seeing
how many times during a candlemark she could get them to shift. So
far, since they'd wakened from their sleeping bags, it had been five.

There was a slight rustle and her hand went to the dagger at her side,
eyes searching the area around them. She saw what caused the rustle
and her dagger flew right by Olov and buried itself within the brush.
Without explaining, she stepped forward and past him, kicking aside
the brush carefully to reveal a young forest wherry, crumpled with her
dagger buried deep in his chest. She looked up. "Hungry?"

Olov had fallen into a crouch as the dagger had whistled past, and now
he slowly straightened. She was showing off. At least it was useful
showing off. "Good aim."

"I didn't want it to run." She shrugged just a little. "I can clean
the thing and take what we need." She looked up at the sun, then back
down at wherry. She wouldn't be able to take all of it, but cooked,
the meat might last them at least a day or two of meals. "It's cold
enough not to spoil until tonight for dinner." They would be able to
store the rest of the cooked meat, or at least smoke it over a banked
fire while they each slept between watches. Carefully, she knelt,
yanking out her blade.

"Let me do it." Olov held his hand out for the dead wherry. "You can
barely use your other arm." Her collarbone had to be cracked, if not
broken, and although she'd fashioned a sling for herself Silk wasn't
always good at keeping her arm in there.

Lusilk looked up at the other man, lips pursed. He was perfectly
right, of course, but with her habit of ignoring her own pain until
she couldn't just to get things done, she tended to take charge. "If
you want. I'm not going to argue. " She wiped off the blade in the
fallen leaves, tucked it into her belt, and with her good arm, hefted the
dead weight of the animal. She handed it to him. "I'll cook it tonight
then. " She did prepare the meals far better than he and they both
knew it.

"All right." Olov exchanged her kill for the reins of his equine. He
drew his own knife and set to work with practiced hands. He was
wrist-deep in pulling out entrails before he spoke again. "So. What
did you do to get locked up?"

She held the reins as he worked. He was quick, precise and knew which
cuts to make; clearly he was an old hand and cleaning game. His
question made her lips curl in satisfaction. "Our mutual friend
doesn't share information unless he feels the need, does he?" She
chuckled and patted the runner's neck with her good hand. "Lord
Rorigraff got lazy and arrogant and didn't hire guards that were very
intelligent or vigilant." She tsked her tongue lightly and purred.
"His wrinkled cock paid the price, but I'm afraid that he didn't live
long enough to experience the real pain of it."

"That's big game." Olov flipped the carcass over to drain the blood
and wiped his hands on the grass. "How'd you get caught?"

She knew exactly why she had gotten caught. If she hadn't wanted him
to know why he was dying, she could have killed him in his sleep with
none the wiser, much like his mistress. "I wanted him to know who was
killing him." She shrugged her shoulders, then grimaced at the pain of
it. "He screamed. A rookie mistake, I admit, but it was worth it."

It was personal for her, she'd wanted to get up and close.
Interesting. Olov began cleaning his knife on the grass, leaving long
red streaks along the green. "He musta done something bad to make
broken ribs worth it."

"He took something from me. Then when that wasn't enough, he tried to
take more." She stroked her hand over the runner's neck slowly. He'd
wrapped her ribs, seen the scars that marred her back. He hadn't asked
questions and she hadn't given him any explanations. The scars spoke
silent volumes. She happened to look over at the carcass to watch him,
then the wind shifted. The scent of blood, entrails, and offal wafted
over to her and the scent, which had never previously bothered her,
caused a sudden gut-churning surge of nausea. Lusilk swallowed hard
and looked away, but the nausea bubbled up past her control. She
stepped back, walked quickly to a bush and began to wretch.

Olov raised an eyebrow, but let her be. Silk had her pride and he
wasn't going to insult it by fussing over her. Instead he turned his
attention back to the carcass, which by now had drained enough for him
to deal with. He tied the wherry's back legs together, then tied their
dinner to his runner's saddle. He'd intended to make Silk ride with it
since it was her kill, but not if she was going to be sick over it.

He untied his water skin, then walked over and held it out to her.
"You going to be good to keep riding?"

She heaved again and wiped her mouth with her sleeve, cursing softly.
She swallowed and took the water skin, tipping it back to rinse her
mouth, spit, then took a drink. "Thanks. It's nothing." She
straightened, handing the water skin back to him. "I'm fine." **Shells
and Faranth's fecking first egg, this is all I need right now.**
Lusilk exhaled, shook herself and nodded. "I'm good to go." She
glanced at the wherry, wrinkled her nose and went to her runner.

She could mount her runner without help now, which was good-- and also
somewhat impressive for someone in her shape. Olov nodded, then took
the reins of his mount and a lead to Silk's. He'd walk for a while.
His runner needed a break and he needed to stretch his legs. "Let me
know if you need to hurl again. We can stop for a bit," he said
quietly.

Lusilk settled in the saddle and just looked at him for a moment. The
nausea had been coming off and on the past sevenday, but she'd brushed
it aside, thinking it had more to do with her pain than what she
suspected now. Perhaps it was still only due to the pain. "I will. But
I don't want to lose time. And no more fellis, I'll just deal with
what I have to and I'm not going to slow us down." Her lips lifted.
"Besides, I think the sooner we find a hot bath, warm bread, beds with
cushions, the better for both of us."

Olov snorted. "You're getting soft. But if you do get slow, you take
the fellis. Or I leave you."

She gave an answering snort and a low chuckle. "Wait until I'm healed
and we'll spar some time. Then we'll talk about who's soft. Besides,
you can't tell me a bite of warm brown bread and a mug of ale in front
of a roaring fire in this weather wouldn't be welcome." She smirked.
"I won't. I've handled worse than this and lived. I'm stubborn. And
don't make me hobble you." The last was said in an obvious light jest.

He shrugged. "You could try." It wouldn't be much of a contest if she
tried it now. Perhaps. She was arrogant, but was a good marksman and
had a formidable reputation. If everything that was said about her was
true. If.

"Hmm." Did the man have no sense of humor? Perhaps not. Varlin hadn't
either when on a job and for this man, she was a job. She studied
him for another moment. For Bryvin to trust him with this sort of
task, he had to be good. She wondered idly just how good he was; he
might even be a challenge with his size and reach. What was his speed?
It was a pity that she was injured. She didn't know if she'd ever get
the chance to find out.

They walked silently for a while, the only sounds the crunch of leaves
beneath the runners' feet and the whistle of the wind in bare tree
branches. Then, "What did he take?" Olov asked.

Silence was his answer at first as Lusilk debated even responding to
his question. Her voice was dry. "A few turns back I spent nearly five
months in his personal private prison cell. Use your imagination."

Her freedom? Her dignity, her pride? Perhaps Rorigraff had whelped her
like a canine. Olov grunted; it didn't really matter what he'd taken
from Silk, only that he had. The Holdless had so much taken from them
already, and they defended what little they had left viciously. "Bet
it felt real good to watch him bleed out," he said.

"Worth every bruise and break." She spoke with dark relish. "And he
knew why and who was doing it. I got to watch the light die in his
eyes and he knew who did it. It was worth everything. I'd do it all
over again if I could." Her hand slid down the reins at the memory.
The man had attempted to take everything she loved from her; he'd
taken a man she loved at the end, though it had been she who had
driven the blade home. Though she knew that Lorican had probably heard
and thought her dead, she knew her son was now safe. _That_ was what
truly mattered. "That was my justice."

"It's funny how often the holders talk about justice, and how rarely
it actually happens in the Holds. It would be better to get rid of all
the Lords and leaders and let the people govern themselves. Then
justice might mean something." Olov fell silent as he walked,
imagining some fat Lord Holder bleeding out against the sharp end of
Silk's knife, his red blood staining the sheets and dripping onto his
fine wooden floor. It was a good thought.

"Don't let our friend hear you say that." Lusilk's lips twisted in
private agreement. "He might disagree with your viewpoint." Then
again, he might not. Privately, she thought Bryvin would enjoy the
power of having more lands and less other Lord Holders to contend
with. Bryvin's version of justice, she thought, was more akin to hers
and perhaps Olov's; it was one of the reasons she enjoyed working with
him from time to time. "If you feel that way, why do you work for him?"

Olov shrugged. "He's better than most, and I'm just one man. Even if I
killed a couple of Lordlings more would spring up to take their place.
They're a fungus. And besides... Bryvin's given me a bite of warm
brown bread and a mug of ale in front of a roaring fire, and that is a
luxury I haven't had in many turns."

"Can't say I disagree with you." But she was cautious. Her own son
could potentially be one of those Lordlings that would spring up. It
was possible. But if she had her way, he'd be nothing like Rorigraff.
At Olov's next words she chuckled. "And a few women your way too, I'm
sure. He's good about that."

"A few," he admitted. The first knock at his door had surprised him;
most Hold women were scared of him. They weren't wrong to be. "He'll
send them your way too, if you're bent like that."

Lusilk snorted, then chuckled. "I'm not. I've had to bend on a few
jobs, but it was for the job and nothing I really enjoyed. I don't
seek that out. He's never offered me women or men. I've never stayed
around Sunstone long enough."

"Think you will be sticking around that long this time?" That was a
question that did interest Olov.

"Hm..." Lusilk shifted in the saddle. "I don't know." She hadn't been
sure she'd survive in the first place and the issue with Silgan and
his future had yet to be decided. "It'll be discussed with him." She
frowned. "I'd like to retire, quite honestly. I've done this for turns
and quite frankly, I'd like quiet."

Olov was quiet for a while as he walked. "You really think that our
friend would let you retire?" Bryvin wouldn't hesitate to use someone
he thought was useful. And Silk was useful.

"I owe him now, so no. Not until the debt's been repaid. I'm too
valuable an asset." Lusilk was nothing if not pragmatic. But if what
she suspected was true, by the time they returned, Bryvin would need
to wait a few months before she could begin to repay him; a quick ride
/between/ with a watchdragon wouldn't be an option. "It's probably why
he got involved."

He snorted in agreement. At Sunstone Seahold Silk was as likely to
retire as he was. The price of living at a Hold was not being able to
leave; Bryvin knew too much and Olov knew he'd flex his Lordly power
to track down anyone who didn't live up to their debts. "If that's the
case, we'll probably be working together at some point."

"Possibly, yes." She agreed. "Typically, I work alone, but sometimes a
partner is necessary." Her partnership with Varlin had been lucrative
for them both, before the end. But she didn't see any sort of the same
potential with this man. Varlin had been more than the man who'd
trained her. She felt an ache as she remembered him, but quickly
shoved it down. "So we may as well get used to it."

Olov made a gesture that could have been a nod or could have been a
shrug. That was all in the future. For now, there was a forest to get
through and pursuit to outsmart. Whatever happened once they reached
Sunstone Seahold was out of their hands.

Last updated on the December 14th 2020

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The Long Road Back Part One