Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Bramble felt heat lick at the back of her neck, slowly rising to brush her cheeks. She didn’t understand how this man had snuck up on her. She had been relaxing, yes, but she had been aware of every breeze that blew, every fish that swam around her. It was almost as if he was a ghost, moving silently through the night. She narrowed her eyes, never letting him out of her sight, as she slowly walked towards the shore. This did not seem necessary, however, since he never moved an inch. Still, she did not trust this man.

“What are you doing here?” She inquired as her feet finally brushed against grass. She could not keep the edge out of her voice.

“I could ask the same of you.” She noticed a hint of malice, of ill-intent, in his tone. All amusement was gone.

She took two full strides towards him, efficiently closing the gap. She would not allow him to have an effect on her. Not now, “But I asked first.” By now she had changed her pose. She was swaying slightly, shifting her weight to the balls of her feet. Bramble was not about to be taken by surprised just because his façade was calm. It was easy to be deceptive.

“Well, I would answer you but you seem eager for a fight.” She knew by his own stance that he was ready to spring at the slightest provocation. He was taller than her - wider as well. He had quite a bit of weight on her.  She would not be winning this fight with strength alone.

“Perhaps if you answered me I wouldn’t be. Who are you?” He shifted his weight at her question, moving smoothly to the side. It was enough motion for Bramble to justify an attack. In the blink of an eye she had kicked him in the chest. He crashed to the ground. She went to jump on top of him, wanted to land a blow to that pretty face, but his voice stopped her.

“I’m the grandson of Cress,” Bramble held his gaze as he rose to his feet.  His sea green eyes brimmed with hatred. No recollection entered hers, “You don’t even remember, do you?” He spat. The look he gave her and the tone of his voice gave her an idea of the horror he was hinting to.

“What did I do?” Her voice was barely a whisper. Breaking the eye contact they shared by turning her gaze to the ground, she continued, “Did I kill him? I’m so sorry.” And before he could confirm her worse fear, Bramble did what she was best at. She ran.  

 Only she didn’t get anywhere. His large, calloused hand clamped around her wrist and yanked her back towards him. She teetered on the balls of her feet before crashing into his chest. She felt a small sheath against her bare belly. Bramble’s mind raced wildly with possible escape routes and which of his vital points were currently unguarded. The unhelpful thought that he smelt good, like pine trees and soap, also intruded. Before she could react, however, his other hand grabbed a fist full of her dark hair and yanked down, forcing her to look at him.

“You better not have killed him.” The anger washing off of him was palpable, “I saw you, two months ago; kidnap my grandfather from my home!”

Bramble’s face was catching fire from being so close to this stranger. His anger made her heart cry, especially since she had been the one to cause it. She remembered the old man he was inquiring about now. She did not make a habit of remembering the names of her victims; it made the guilt worse, but she could not forget the last mission she had ever completed, “I did not harm him,” She tried to reassure him of this, but then again, she wasn’t sure herself if the old man was alive, “I brought him to King Richard safely.”  It wasn’t a lie.

His hand left her wrist but tightened in her hair, painfully, “What’s become of him?”

She swallowed the howl of pain that was stuck in her throat. She had survived worse than this. Much worse, “I do not know. I ran away soon after.”

“Why did you take him? What good is a sick old man to the king of Riverview!” She flinched away from him, hesitant to make eye contact with him again. It made it harder to reason - harder to think. She needed to think.

“I do not know. I just did what I was told. I had no choice!”

He didn’t seem to believe her, “There’s always a choice.”

“Not when you are someone’s possession, there’s not! It was either obey or death!”

If Bramble had been watching she would have seen the stranger’s eyes soften, if only at tad. But she wasn’t and she hadn’t. Before the man could respond Bramble grasped the hilt of the knife that lay in the sheath against her navel. In one clean motion she unsheathed it, brought it up and through her own hair. The locks spilt around her face. Free of him, Bramble ran as fast as her feet would carry her.

He did not follow her.

--------~*~-------

The next morning Bramble found herself staring into the mirror. Her hair was short now, much shorter than before. She touched it tenderly.

She never would have thought that the ghosts of her past would catch up to her so quickly. She didn’t like to think of how many innocent people she had personally harmed and killed. She didn’t like to think about how many families she had destroyed. The look of anguish in that stranger’s eye -she had been the cause. Did she truly even deserve a new life, a fresh start? Was there a way to amend her mistakes?

She patted her cheeks in attempt to snap out of her self-loathing. She had only been the puppet in every crime she had ever committed. It was not her fault; she had been a victim too.

She knew it was only a matter of time before she ran into the stranger. When she did she realized it had to be in her favor. She could not allow him to take her by surprise again. He had seemed like such a kind soul the first time she had seen him. Even the gentlest humans could be hardened. She understood that all too well.