12. Owen

The next morning, they rose early and continued their way along the road to Coopersburgh. At noon, they took a break. Owen sat on a rock while Colt hunted nearby, hoping to nab them more rabbits, and Gilda and Brom filled their waterskins at the stream in the distance. Rem stood nearby, watching the landscape, while Clove laid in the grass, basking in the sun.

Owen ate a yellow apple down to the core and followed it with a small piece of cheese. His eyes brushed over the vast, grassy field where their horses grazed, and he shivered against the breeze. The further south they walked, the more the land flattened. In the distance, a forest lined the horizon, making him think of Birchwood in Milarc, where they had met Brom.

He recalled coming to Berry Farms, where Elian had caught up to them, not long after learning from Amias that he was Shadowborn. The Wielder's assistant, Rhielle, had tried to take Amias in, but they'd turned the tables on her. In the later melee against Elian, Lou Cadwell had pierced his uncle with several arrows. Owen tried to save him, but Amias had yelled for him to run.

It's been a long journey already. When will all this running end?

He no longer felt hungry. Instead, Owen held out a piece of apple for Clove, and she sniffed it before eating it from his hand.

"Everything alright?" Rem asked.

Owen glanced up at the man, who stood with his arms folded as he looked down at him. "It's Amias," he finally said. "I'm still upset over how we parted." That was all he needed to know.

Rem nodded slowly. "If it helps reassure you at all, the Legion won't kill him. They might have used him to find you instead, and when they do that, they usually keep those who confess alive."

This struck an angry spark in Owen's chest. He didn't like the idea that Amias would let his location be known. He knew his uncle better than that, but Thomas had insinuated the same thing back in Pitchvale. "Are you saying you think Amias squealed on me?"

"It's possible."

"My uncle wouldn't do that."

"None of us truly know what a person would do until we see it for ourselves." Rem tilted his head and squinted in the harsh sunlight, his dark-brown eyes squaring in on him. "I don't mean to upset you. I only know what I've seen and heard in Luthien when I served the Legion."

"What exactly did you two do in Luthien?" Owen grit his teeth to keep the sting from his voice.

"Amias was in training to be a Wielder alongside me." Rem grunted as he sat beside Owen, moving the sword buckled to his belt. "We became friends. We played cards and discussed politics over tea. He was a very open man, always listening to people with care before giving advice. He is probably the kindest man I've ever known." He looked at Owen. "You take after him. True kindness is a rare virtue."

The prickle in Owen's heart from Rem's earlier words now softened. The man was blunt, but he seemed to know how to retrace his steps to make amends without actually apologizing. Amias was similar in his ways.

"I don't feel very kind for putting myself and my companions in danger."

"If they didn't consider you a friend, they'd have left already. I can see it in their eyes. They care deeply about you."

When Owen met Rem's eyes, the man smiled, and Owen smiled back before looking away. Yes, his friends did care for him, but he still couldn't shake the guilt of putting them in danger.

Rem suddenly got to his feet and cleared his throat. "Be alert, we have company."

Owen's ears suddenly perked up at the sound of footsteps and the clink clink of steel. He looked up to see two guards making their way toward them. Their attire consisted of studded leather breastplates, leather shins and armguards, and iron helms. On their belts, they wore longswords, and on their chests was a golden tree that no doubt represented Calwick's region.

Clove looked at them cautiously before growling.

"Down, Gypsy," Rem commanded, and the wolf went quiet.

The shorter of the two men cocked his head as he approached, his hair concealed beneath his helm, but his clean-shaven face visible. "Good day," the man started, his voice bold as it carried to them. He glanced at Clove briefly.

"Hello, good sirs." Rem bowed his head slightly. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Just wondering about you and your group there," the short man said. "Those your horses?" He nodded to the animals nearby.

"Yes, sir. My wife and I are on our way to Tunstead. She's just nearby with my daughters at the stream."

The tall man laughed. "I'd say your son's overdressed for such a place." He glanced at Owen.

"This is my normal wear," Owen muttered, going along with playing Rem's son. His stomach twisted when the guard laughed again.

Rem stepped up and stood straight. "Is there something we can do for you gentlemen?"

"Just inspecting travelers going into Calwick," the shorter man said. He squinted at Owen, as if trying to place him. "We're on the lookout for a band of escapees from Milarc. A group of four. Three men and a woman. Have you seen anyone suspicious in the area?"

Owen's heart pounded, and he hoped that Colt, Gilda, and Brom stayed out of sight for a little longer.

Rem shrugged and shook his head. "I've seen too many folks on the road today, but nothing like that sticks out, I'm afraid. You see, our carriage is under maintenance, so we opted for our horses and our travel wear. It's too easy to get robbed on these backroads."

"That it is." The tall man looked away, back to the road, and sighed. "Let's go, Rich. They're good to go. Take care." The short man, Rich, nodded, but looked back at them once more before he left with the other man.

Clove trotted after the guards, but kept her distance. When they were out of earshot, Rem gestured toward the horses, and Owen helped tug them to the stream, where Gilda and Brom seemed to have caught on, for they hid behind a few trees.

"It's safe to come out now," Rem told them.

As Colt appeared with a rabbit in his hand, he asked, "What just happened?"

"They asked about our group," Rem replied. "They sent us on our way, but one of them is suspicious. We'd best head on. Should anyone else ask about us, it would be good to have a plan in place. Gilda, you may act as my wife, and Owen and Colt as my sons."

"And me?" Brom raised his brows.

Rem regarded him for a moment, narrowing his eyes before he nodded and said, "You will be my servant."

Brom frowned, his shoulders sagging as Rem made his way forward, and glanced at Gilda. "His servant? What exactly am I serving?"

Colt squinted at him and shrugged. "Well, you were once a scullery maid. Consider this a good rise in station."

They all cracked a laugh as they walked past him, and Brom let out a breath of disbelief, shaking his head as he followed them.

After mounting their horses, Owen followed the group as they trotted forward, wrapping his scarf around his neck and pulling his cap low before throwing up his hood. He opened his mind to get a feel for the energy around them, but he felt nothing ominous coming their way. He hoped they didn't run into anyone else, and he hoped the suspicious guard didn't report them to his post.

"We will ride through the night," Rem told them.

"We can't go all night without sleep," Colt retorted.

Rem cast him a dark look. "We will need to get far ahead of any guards who are suspicious of us. Some of them know me in Calwick, and they will assume I'm showing tourists around Coopersburgh. For now, we need to ride to a homestead I'm familiar with. We can all rest there in the morning."

"What about the horses?" Owen asked.

Rem nodded at him. "Don't worry, we will rest them along the way."

They picked up speed, and the icy wind sliced through Owen. He tried to think of other things besides the bitter cold, or of bouncing so roughly on a horse, afraid he might fall off as he had when he was younger. Back then, he'd worked on the Gallows' farm, and one of the Gallows' sons was teaching him how to ride a horse when it bucked him off. He'd escaped serious injury by falling into thick mud. But out here?

It's all hard road, and we're riding so fast.

But he was still thankful for the horses' aid to carry the bulk of their weight, though carrying it did come with its advantages. After a month of carrying bags and cookware, Owen felt much stronger. He'd noticed the muscles in his arms looked bigger when he was changing his clothes, and he'd noticed the same of Colt's arms. He'd gotten a good feel for them last night. His thoughts wandered to the tender moment he and Colt had shared in the tent, and he bit his lip as he played the heated memory over in his mind.

The day melded into night as they rode. Fortunately for them, they came to the homestead Rem spoke of sometime past the midnight hour. The wind gusted around them, and the sky billowed with dark clouds that blotted out the moon and stars. Coming to a barn, Rem unlocked it with a key and swung open the door, allowing them all to move quickly inside.

Having eaten while riding, Owen was too tired to do anything else besides find one of the stalls filled with hay and lie down. Colt laid beside him, seemingly uncaring about who saw them as they curled up together, sharing warmth and blankets as they slept through the morning.

When they woke at noon, Owen opened his eyes and looked over at Colt to see him changing shirt. The daylight shone through the windows, illuminating his companion in sunshine, and he ran his eyes over his body. By now, Owen knew of the spade inked onto Colt's right forearm, a symbol for playing cards, but there was another small design of a bird outlined in black below his collarbone, one he recalled seeing several times when Colt washed or changed.

"What does it mean?" Owen asked, and Colt glanced over, brows furrowed in confusion. Smiling, Owen sat up and reached over to trace the inky dove with his finger. "Your tattoo. I've only seen your spade and this one."

Colt looked down, a look of sadness falling over his features. "When Rowan passed, I didn't know how to cope. I just… sort of buried my grief with him, I think."

A pang ripped through Owen's heart, one he was all too familiar with. It was the same pang he felt when he thought of his mother, or Amias. He recalled Colt briefly telling him about his friend, Rowan. One of the card decks Colt kept had belonged to him.

"Was he your lover?" Owen only asked because Colt seemed to speak fondly of him, but Colt only smiled and shook his head.

"No. At one time, I might have wanted more with him, but Rowan was strictly a ladies' man, and I respected that." Colt pulled on his shirt and buttoned it. "I guess getting this dove made it feel like I was honoring him in some way. He had no burial. Amias told me his body had been dumped with others and burned."

The way Colt said it with a stoic face made Owen's heart hurt even more. It seemed he'd become numb to what had happened, but Owen could sense Colt's pain. He could feel the shame swirling around Colt's honey and lemon scent. There was deep remorse hidden within him.

Taking Colt's hand, Owen squeezed it. "Thanks for telling me."

Colt smiled crookedly and leaned into him, but before they could share a kiss, they were interrupted by Gilda, who strolled casually up to their stall.

"You lovebirds ready?" she asked, hands on her hips.

Owen and Colt shouldered their bags and followed Gilda out of the stable. At the doorway, Colt laid four rabbit pelts on a shelf, payment for whoever owned the stables, and met Brom outside.

Coming up to him, Colt glanced around before he asked, "Where's Rem?"

Brom nodded nearby, where Rem was speaking to an older man with a wrinkly face. After a few minutes, Rem approached. "That was Horace. This is his homestead."

"Everything alright?" Brom asked.

"Yes. He informed me of a quake that happened just north of Calwick. This is good news, as the regional and Legion soldiers will be preoccupied with the damaged villages, making it easier for us to slip through."

"A quake?" Colt cocked his head. "Those don't usually happen so far north."

"No, but there have been reports of more recently. Supposedly a sign of something ill to come." Rem glanced at Owen and hesitated, and Owen narrowed his eyes.

There hadn't been many quakes that Owen had heard of in his lifetime, and now he had heard of two within the span of a month, the first being in Milarc, near the border, and now this one…

"What does that mean?" Gilda asked.

Rem sighed. "It means the Legion is very tense. No doubt Luthien knows by now of Owen's escape from Milarc. The guards being distracted in Calwick helps us, but at the same time, these quakes are being seen as a bad omen. Luthien will detach more soldiers up this way soon to ensure you're caught."

"Then we'd better move," Owen said, marching for his horse.

As Rem climbed up onto his horse, he nodded darkly. "We will ride hard to get to Coopersburgh earlier than anticipated. If we are stopped, you will play your roles as I've assigned them. If anyone attacks us, we will fight them, so keep your weapons handy."

For the next few days, this was their routine. Walking, riding, eating, and camping, until they came to Coopersburgh, much earlier than they'd originally planned.

As risky as it was, they rode along the main road now, as it was more suspicious for them to be in the open fields around Coopersburgh. Before long, the dirt path changed to granite slabs as it led to town. Grand chariots made of dark mahogany pressed down the lane, carrying passengers behind blue ruffled curtains. In the distance, a black tower stood tall against the sky.

Owen narrowed his eyes on the building. "What is that?"

His companions followed his eyes.

"Legion barracks," Rem said. "For soldiers. But don't worry about them. There are a few Legion guards who patrol in Coopersburgh, but they mainly keep to the outskirts of the city."

"Or perhaps they butcher people and send them out to the region's cafés," Gilda proclaimed.

They all looked at her and grimaced, except for Rem, who looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

She shrugged. "What? That's what we speculated, anyway."

"We?" Brom furrowed his brow. "You mean the Clamor Gang?"

"Yes, you know what I mean, idiot." She shook her head.

"Clamor Gang?" Colt laughed. "That's what you called yourselves?"

"Look, we didn't create the name." Brom sighed.

Gilda straightened her back. "It's in the past. Let's not venture back."

Owen nudged Colt. "I think that's a tally each for us on that one."

They both chuckled and bumped fists, but they stifled their laughter when they caught Gilda's and Brom's scowls.

"There is an inn just outside the city," Rem told them. "You can rest there, and tomorrow I will visit and tell you my plan for the next destination."

"What about keeping hidden?" Colt asked. "We look too suspicious with our hoods up, in these dirty clothes, even on the outskirts of this city."

"I will bring you all fresh clothing tomorrow. Until then, it would be best for you to lay low in your room."

As they drew nearer to Coopersburgh, lamp posts lined the road on either side. A young boy lit them one by one. They came to the inn in no time and put the horses up in the stable, while Rem took care of their room inside. Clove sat beside them, begging for scraps from the stable boy. He threw her a few apple peels, but she chewed them only for a moment before spitting them out and whining.

"I will be back in the morning," Rem assured them as he returned outside. "I have a few things I must see to before the night is full." He whistled for Clove, and she darted toward him, following along as Rem mounted his horse and made his way to Coopersburgh.

Sighing in relief that they would all get to sleep in a warm room with a bed, Owen followed his companions toward the inn. He was thankful they had gotten far ahead of the Wielders. He hoped with this passing into Coopersburgh, that they would be able to lose them for good.