Releasing her held breath, she stepped around the dog and moved toward the path. In truth, she didn't know if there was anyone in the Outland that would really hurt her. Based on what she'd already discovered, there were people in the Provinces who would and she'd never been afraid there.
The woods almost engulfed the path as soon as she stepped onto it. Never has she seen forest as close and thick as that in the Outland. Sergeant padded on, stopping to look back at her every few feet to be sure she was following. At least, that's how it felt.
"I'm fine, boy. Just give me enough warning to hide if I need to."
She scanned the green depths to either side of the trail. There was little chance that she be able to detect one of the Green Men. In fact, a whole regiment could be standing three feet away and she probably wouldn't notice. Releasing a long breath, she hurried to catch up with the dog. He would know before she if danger were present.
The smell of something roasting drifted to her on a gentle breeze. Her mouth watered. She should have eaten before she left the house but the sense of urgency kept prodding and pushing out all other needs. Sergeant suddenly broke into a lope and rushed ahead, around a curve in the path and out of sight.
"Wait! Sergeant! Come back!" She ran forward, hoping that she'd find him waiting ahead. She rounded the curve and stumbled to a halt.
Sergeant was standing on his hind legs, front legs against the chest of a man who he seemed to be trying to lick in the face. Her hand flew to her chest and she gasped and stared.
The man looked up, a broad smile lighting his face. Pushing Sergeant down, he stepped forward and extended his hand. "Samantha! What are you doing here?"
"Reece? Reece Lawrence?"
He laughed. "Yes, that'd be me."
"What....." she looked around. What looked like a roast of some sort hung from a spit over a brightly burning but small fire. A small table stood near. Beyond that, a tent stood and she could see, at the edge of the small clearing a horse. "What are you doing here?"
"I might ask you the same question. You're far from home. And alone. That's not wise in these parts." He stepped back and pointed to the log he'd obviously been sitting on. "Have a seat. Would you like some venison?"
She looked at the roast again and made her way to the fire and sat down. "Why are you here?"
He stirred the flames, added a log, and turned the meat. He sat down next to her and looked at her with a half smile. "I asked you first."
With an exasperated sigh she looked at the flames. "I have some questions, about my family, about myself, that I want answer to."
"Ah, a sort of pilgrimage."
Her mouth twisted into a smile. "Not exactly."
"Want to tell me?"
She studied him for a few moments. He was a stranger her brother did not approve of and that she knew nothing about. She looked into the flames licking at the roasting meat. It smelled so good.
"I don't know you Reece. I hired you to work for me a bit but I never learned anything about you."
He took his stick and poked at the logs again. "This is true."
The crackling of the fire grew loud in the silence that fell between them. Her father taught her that silence was often the surest way to make people talk. People had an instinctive urge to fill up silence.
"What would you like to know?"
"Oh...well, ummm....."
He laughed. "Thought it would be more difficult than that, didn't you?"
The flush that spread up her neck was not attributable to the fire. She nodded.
Tossing the stick aside, Reece slid off the log onto the ground, rested his back against the log and stretched his legs out. "I was born in the Outland. My parents...." he sighed. "My parents met and married here, in the Outland. Both were here because their parents were sent here."
"So.... you....."
"I'm an outcast by birth. I committed no crimes. My parents committed no crimes. We simply had no choice."
"But you could have go to any province you wanted."
He laughed. "That's a recent law and if you knew the amount of paperwork involved you wouldn't find that an easy solution. Besides, our families were here, three generations of them."
"You have family in the Provinces?"
"Yes. Uncles, cousins, aunts."
"So you'd have sponsors."
He twisted his head to look up at her in surprise. "No."
She frowned. "But your family. They could sponsor any of you that wanted to come back"
Reece turned his body to face her, propping one arm on the log. "What makes you think anyone would want to sponsor criminals?"
"No," she hastened, "no. You and your parents. You weren't criminals."
"By whose reckoning?"
Her frowned deepened. She didn't understand why he was being obtuse. "You committed no crimes."
"We are descendents of criminals."
Samantha shook her head. "But that's not a crime!"
Reece threw his head back and laughed aloud. "You are magnificently reasonable. How is that possible?"
For some reason she felt she'd been insulted and she scowled at him. "You don't have to make fun of me. You aren't making any sense."
"You're right." Pushing himself up, he turned and bent over the spit and took it off the fire. He went to the table and transferred it to plates, put forks on each one and returned to sit next to her. He offered her a plate. "It doesn't make any sense whatsoever."
The scent of the roasted deer meat tickled her nose and she realized she was ravenous. "Perhaps we can discuss this after we eat."
"Good idea. Never mix politics with supper."
She slanted a look at him. He was smiling at her.
The woods almost engulfed the path as soon as she stepped onto it. Never has she seen forest as close and thick as that in the Outland. Sergeant padded on, stopping to look back at her every few feet to be sure she was following. At least, that's how it felt.
"I'm fine, boy. Just give me enough warning to hide if I need to."
She scanned the green depths to either side of the trail. There was little chance that she be able to detect one of the Green Men. In fact, a whole regiment could be standing three feet away and she probably wouldn't notice. Releasing a long breath, she hurried to catch up with the dog. He would know before she if danger were present.
The smell of something roasting drifted to her on a gentle breeze. Her mouth watered. She should have eaten before she left the house but the sense of urgency kept prodding and pushing out all other needs. Sergeant suddenly broke into a lope and rushed ahead, around a curve in the path and out of sight.
"Wait! Sergeant! Come back!" She ran forward, hoping that she'd find him waiting ahead. She rounded the curve and stumbled to a halt.
Sergeant was standing on his hind legs, front legs against the chest of a man who he seemed to be trying to lick in the face. Her hand flew to her chest and she gasped and stared.
The man looked up, a broad smile lighting his face. Pushing Sergeant down, he stepped forward and extended his hand. "Samantha! What are you doing here?"
"Reece? Reece Lawrence?"
He laughed. "Yes, that'd be me."
"What....." she looked around. What looked like a roast of some sort hung from a spit over a brightly burning but small fire. A small table stood near. Beyond that, a tent stood and she could see, at the edge of the small clearing a horse. "What are you doing here?"
"I might ask you the same question. You're far from home. And alone. That's not wise in these parts." He stepped back and pointed to the log he'd obviously been sitting on. "Have a seat. Would you like some venison?"
She looked at the roast again and made her way to the fire and sat down. "Why are you here?"
He stirred the flames, added a log, and turned the meat. He sat down next to her and looked at her with a half smile. "I asked you first."
With an exasperated sigh she looked at the flames. "I have some questions, about my family, about myself, that I want answer to."
"Ah, a sort of pilgrimage."
Her mouth twisted into a smile. "Not exactly."
"Want to tell me?"
She studied him for a few moments. He was a stranger her brother did not approve of and that she knew nothing about. She looked into the flames licking at the roasting meat. It smelled so good.
"I don't know you Reece. I hired you to work for me a bit but I never learned anything about you."
He took his stick and poked at the logs again. "This is true."
The crackling of the fire grew loud in the silence that fell between them. Her father taught her that silence was often the surest way to make people talk. People had an instinctive urge to fill up silence.
"What would you like to know?"
"Oh...well, ummm....."
He laughed. "Thought it would be more difficult than that, didn't you?"
The flush that spread up her neck was not attributable to the fire. She nodded.
Tossing the stick aside, Reece slid off the log onto the ground, rested his back against the log and stretched his legs out. "I was born in the Outland. My parents...." he sighed. "My parents met and married here, in the Outland. Both were here because their parents were sent here."
"So.... you....."
"I'm an outcast by birth. I committed no crimes. My parents committed no crimes. We simply had no choice."
"But you could have go to any province you wanted."
He laughed. "That's a recent law and if you knew the amount of paperwork involved you wouldn't find that an easy solution. Besides, our families were here, three generations of them."
"You have family in the Provinces?"
"Yes. Uncles, cousins, aunts."
"So you'd have sponsors."
He twisted his head to look up at her in surprise. "No."
She frowned. "But your family. They could sponsor any of you that wanted to come back"
Reece turned his body to face her, propping one arm on the log. "What makes you think anyone would want to sponsor criminals?"
"No," she hastened, "no. You and your parents. You weren't criminals."
"By whose reckoning?"
Her frowned deepened. She didn't understand why he was being obtuse. "You committed no crimes."
"We are descendents of criminals."
Samantha shook her head. "But that's not a crime!"
Reece threw his head back and laughed aloud. "You are magnificently reasonable. How is that possible?"
For some reason she felt she'd been insulted and she scowled at him. "You don't have to make fun of me. You aren't making any sense."
"You're right." Pushing himself up, he turned and bent over the spit and took it off the fire. He went to the table and transferred it to plates, put forks on each one and returned to sit next to her. He offered her a plate. "It doesn't make any sense whatsoever."
The scent of the roasted deer meat tickled her nose and she realized she was ravenous. "Perhaps we can discuss this after we eat."
"Good idea. Never mix politics with supper."
She slanted a look at him. He was smiling at her.
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