Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 161

Chapter 161: New information
“What?” Trace heard Anaisa’s voice from behind him, but he had to concentrate on the path ahead. The trail was fairly steep and the guard he carried wasn’t light, especially as unconscious dead weight.

“Emily. She told me who else is in there just now,” He told her. “And I couldn’t wait any longer. Now we’ll have one less guard to worry about. If we’re lucky, some others will come looking for him soon and we’ll be able to pick them off one by one instead of storming the entrance against all of them at once.”

“But won’t that make them suspicious?” Anaisa’s voice was concerned. He paused, panting from the exertion of the conversation and the weight he carried.

“They may figure he got lost, or found his ram and had trouble carrying it back by himself. I’m hoping they’ll be more annoyed than worried by his disappearance.”

“What did Emily say??” Anaisa pressed, and Trace turned again to continue walking.

“Emily snuck up the passage for a moment and returned back to her place. She was telling me what she overheard–what she saw.”

“What did she see? Is she done talking?” His wife was understandably anxious to hear what he’d learned.

It was more frustrating than Trace had first anticipated, having whispers in his head. He couldn’t reply, or turn them off, or choose when they happened, or ask clarifying questions or for her to repeat something.

He hoped he’d gotten all the most important facts along the way.

“For now. I think the guard just came back to take her empty breakfast tray,” He responded breathlessly, and paused again to catch his breath. They were drawing closer to the top, where they would be out of the immediate sight of anyone coming looking for them. That was his first goal.

“So what did she hear?”

Trace felt his face darken as he explained. “Emily heard children, and three or four adults.”

“Who are they?” Anaisa asked with alarm. “Why would they take children?”

“I wondered that before,” Trace shook his head. “Whether the intent was to make them magical and then hone them into weapons for evil uses, or some other scheme.”

“And now?” She lowered her voice.

“Emily heard the adults talking. She heard two names before she had to retreat back to her place to avoid being caught.”

“What were the names?”

“Seth and Sarah.”

Trace got the words out, but just barely. Emily had the worst timing. She told him the names just as he stepped foot in the cave entrance. He’d tripped, and caught the attention of the guard. It was more instinct than plan to grab a heavy rock and hit the man over the head as he turned to investigate.

“Your brother and sister-in-law?” Anaisa squeaked. “And… their children?”

“I suspect my parents, also.” Trace felt the sweat pour down his face. Or was it tears? He did not know, and had no time to figure it out.

“Oh, Trace, no,” Anaisa breathed. “We have to get them out.”

“We’re going to,” He huffed. There was no room for failure. Not that there was before, but now…

“Our letters. They must not have gotten the letters…” Anaisa frowned. “But someone saw them, surely. The rumor has to spread, and soon. The more trouble we cause for Barnabas–”

“The more reason for swift retribution he will have,” Trace warned. It was one thing to have a hostage while blackmail was ongoing. Oakdown could hold Emily’s health and wellbeing over Sanders’ head, easily.

But since Trace and Anaisa were blatantly defying him now, trying to thwart his plans and ruin his chances at success… the man could easily kill their families in a moment of silent rage, just to see if it would break them entirely.

This was not good at all.

“He hasn’t killed them yet,” Anaisa piped in, as if she could see his thoughts written on his face. Maybe she could. “That can only be a good sign. He’s manipulative and calculating and vindictive, but he’s not reckless. If he were going to kill them for some purpose, he would have done it already.”

Trace wasn’t sure about her logic, but she did know the man better than he did. He would trust her judgment for now, even if it was a vain hope.

They reached the top of the gorge, and he dumped the unconscious body on the ground.

“So, um…” Anaisa paused. “Where do we hide him, exactly? Or what do we do with him?”

“We can’t take him back. No one can know about Ewan,” Trace thought out loud. “I don’t want to kill him, unless we have to.”

He’d had enough of death in the war. He didn’t want to perpetrate it on anyone here.

“If we just leave him tied up, he’ll cry for help,” Anaisa mused. She knelt down suddenly, and began tugging at the hem of her petticoat, trying to rip it.

Trace saw where her thoughts were going, and pulled a small knife from his belt.

“Allow me,” He wished his own wardrobe had excess fabric, but it didn’t. He would buy her a new petticoat as soon as he was able.

“Oh,” She breathed as he took the hem between his fingers and cut off a length sufficient to use for a gag. Quickly, she tugged her skirt down over her ankles, coloring.

“He’s unconscious, you know,” Trace couldn’t resist pointing out the obvious as he gagged the man and dragged him under a low bush. “And you and I are married.”

Anaisa gaped and turned a deeper shade of red.

“That’s true,” She admitted. “But…”

She paused, apparently not finding a delicate enough way to phrase what was obvious.

“I intend on resolving that ‘but’ at some point soon… unless you’re opposed,” He teased, but was suddenly afraid that she would be averse to his suggestion.

“What… what do you mean? Please don’t toy with me, Trace, I need you to be absolutely clear what you’re saying.” Anaisa took a deep breath and faced him.

Trace stepped forward and took both her hands carefully in his.

“This is terrible timing, and of course we have so much to do right now, but this is the first time in two weeks, since everything went awry that we’ve had a moment alone…well, sort of,” He grimaced and glanced at the unconscious body under the bush, which was facing the other direction, “but before we plunge into something that may very well result in both our deaths, I need to tell you something.”