A Bandit's confession

Shayn looked at the bandit incredulously. "Tell us everything. Why would a halfling be here, and why would he be involved in your thievery? Are you lying to me?" 

Walter's blade moved closer to Jerry's neck, emphasizing the need for truth. 

"The partner talked about people as if he wasn't one, and I think even mentioned 'your race' or something similar. It fits. The halfling provides them with herbs to put people into deep sleep. The bandits do the work and then divide the loot in exchange for more of the herbs. They weren't supposed to kidnap people. The halfling didn't like it, and broke up the business." Simone had moved behind Shayn and whispered the information quickly to him. He tilted his chin down in a subtle nod. 

The bandit wasn't nearly so forthcoming. 

"I… it was Boss's orders. The halfling made us do it. I don't know why he's into stealing things, he just is." Jerry looked desperate to make himself look innocent at the expense of everyone else's reputations. "I didn't even want to take the women." 

Simone scoffed behind him, and Shayn turned his face a fraction to glance at her from the corner of his eye. 

"He grabbed me. Held my shoulders… smelled my hair." She whispered. "It was…" She choked on the words and couldn't continue.

"I have reason to doubt your statement," Shayn said to Jerry, who quivered under the scrutiny. "How did you treat the women?" 

"It wasn't me! It was… Omar!" Jerry pointed at this dead companion. 

"That's a lie," whispered Simone. She had been blindfolded when he found her, but she seemed confident. Enraged, even. 

"The halfling has the other one! They was in the trees we left behind, He might not 'a gone far, maybe you can catch 'em if you hurry!" Jerry spewed the words in a torrent. 

"I'll go," Walter volunteered. "They may be gone, but I'm a good scout and now we have enough horses for us. I'll follow the trail you came from and look for signs. Catch up with the wagon when you can." 

"Is it wise to split up?" Kyler asked. 

"I won't approach unless it's necessary," Walter said. "I'm on a tracking mission for now. I'll leave a marked trail for you to follow and we can go in together, but if I wait too long the trail might go cold." 

Shayn nodded, and gave him brief bearings and directions to the copse of trees he thought Jerry was alluding to. 

 With Kyler finishing tying up Jerry, Walter took one of the bandits' already-saddled horses, a waterskin, and a little food with him in case the chase was prolonged. With a nod to the group, he took off in the direction Shayn had recently come from. 

"What should we do with him?" Kyler asked, gesturing to the still-living bandit. "Leave him? Take him with us?" 

"Watch him for a few minutes, if you wouldn't mind," Shayn requested, and his elder brother lifted one eyebrow. "I need to find out a little more." 

He glanced over toward a fallen log where Simone had sunk down in exhaustion. 

Simone's whispered words hadn't been overheard by anyone else, and if she'd been violated, he wouldn't hesitate to visit justice upon the odious man. It would save them the trouble of bringing him along… then again, he might yet have more information they might need to retrieve Victoria. 

He approached the woman slowly, now far more cautious about moving suddenly or getting too close. In the heat of saving her, it hadn't fully occurred to him what she might have experienced in her captivity. 

The shaky whispers about being grabbed sat ill with him. 

She watched his approach with a cautious gaze, and he paused a few paces back from her. 

"Are you all right?" He asked softly. 

"My leg hurts," She winced. "And my cheek stings." 

He glanced at the red cut across her face. "May I?" 

With a sigh, she gestured for him to join her. Exhaustion hung about her shoulders. Slowly, he sat down next to her, taking the handkerchief again to dab at the wound. He looked carefully at it, and she flinched when his fingers touched her face. 

"There's a splinter in here," He tried to keep his voice steady as he gently plucked it out. "What did he hit you with?" 

Perhaps direct, specific questions would help her tell him more about what had happened. 

"What?" She seemed confused. Perhaps the blow was hard enough to cloud her thinking. 

"The wood, what did he have when he hit you?" Shayn tried again. 

"Oh. No, I scraped it myself trying to remove the blindfold." Simone looked abashed.

He stared at her for a moment, absorbing the unexpected information. His fingers lingered on her cheek. It was soft, and warm. Too warm, even? Was the cut becoming infected? He cleared his throat. 

"I think that's the last of the splinter," He swallowed. "You said your leg hurts?" 

There were a few reasons a leg could hurt, and a few of the options he really didn't like. He braced himself for the answer. 

"I hit my shin on a crate while trying to kick myself free. They were taking Victoria," Her eyes welled with tears. 

"Did you manage to hurt yourself more than they hurt you?" The words slipped out, and Shayn regretted them immediately. 

"Apparently," She shot a glare at him as a tear escaped its place, and raised her hand to run it through her disheveled hair. It was more voluminous than he'd imagined it to be. She was no longer the prim, upbraided librarian poring over a book. 

Her hair fell down her back, her eyes shined with tears, but there was a fierceness underlying the fear and trauma. She was a fighter. 

"So, they didn't… that is… how much did they hurt you?" He asked cautiously. She was wincing as he spoke, and suddenly seemed vulnerable again. She ran a hand down her shoulder and to her forearm. 

A purplish bruise was blooming there. Anger burned in Shayn's chest, turning the edges of his vision slightly red. 

"I don't remember being grabbed there," She whispered. "I must have been unconscious for that. I just recall…" She stopped for a moment, and he held his breath, ready to take his sword and behead the bandit on the spot. Her eyes closed. 

"He grabbed my shoulders. Pulled me against him. His breath was rancid." She shuddered and raised her hand to her golden locks. "He was smelling my hair. I think he was going to—but the boss told him to put me down. Said there would be time for that later." 

Tears poured freely down her face as she recounted the events, and he was grateful her eyes were closed so she couldn't see the profound relief he felt that it hadn't been worse. Frightening, certainly. But not what it might have been. 

"You're safe now," He promised softly. Her face was buried in her hands. Should he hug her? Would that be too much like the memory of Jerry grabbing her? He didn't like that thought at all, so he sat awkwardly beside her. 

"Thank you. I don't know if I said it already," She opened her eyes to look at him, and he couldn't stand the look on her face. He needed her to go back to her prim state before she affected him irreversibly. 

He lifted one hand, slowly, and brushed her hair back behind her shoulder. She was still, neither encouraging nor rejecting the attention. She seemed confused by it somehow. 

"I saved your life from a runaway horse, you think I'm going to let some gross bandit steal it?" He teased. "You know I take pride in my work." 

Her eyelashes still quivered with unshed tears, but the corners of her mouth tipped up slightly. "Pride is definitely something you're not lacking." 

The barb was halfhearted, and Shayn smiled. "Are you all right to travel? Walter will find the way, but we need to catch up and save Victoria." 

Simone nodded, getting to her feet. "I'll be all right." 

"Does that mean you're not all right now?" Shayn ducked his head to catch her eyes. She frowned. 

"I'll be a lot better when I know that Victoria's safe." Her lower lip quivered slightly, and she clamped her mouth shut. He considered her for a moment before turning to Kyler. 

"All right, let's load up and get going!" 

During Shayn's absence, Walter and Kyler had gone to the trouble of taking down the tents and loading what supplies they had into the wagon in anticipation of his return. All that remained was to hitch the horses to it and throw Jerry in the back, hogtied, of which Shayn made quick work. 

The bandit squirmed and whined, darting morbid glances at his dead friend. 

"Should we… bury him?" Simone whispered as she stared at the bloodied corpse. 

"There's no time." Shayn kept the emotion from his voice. "And he doesn't deserve it. Are you riding in the wagon, or horseback?" 

"Horseback," She said resolutely. "I refuse to be in a wagon with that man ever again if I can avoid it."