Prelude

The two men sat at a table in the shadows. One had a small child, no more than three years old on his lap. “I need to get her out of the city. This life got my oldest son and his wife killed, I can’t let it kill Margred too. I just don‘t know what I‘d do if I lost her as well.” He sighed and ran a hand through his graying red hair. He looked ragged and beaten down, tired.

The child wasn’t listening as her grandfather spoke with his friend and partner. She just sat on his lap hugging a ragged doll close to her chest. She had tear stained cheeks and a glazed, lost expression in her eyes. “Henry doesn’t know our secrets like Jonathan did, and his wife is a cold one, but we should be safe there. I’m not terribly fond of who Henry has become, but he has several children and it should be a safer place for little Red to grow up.”

His companion nodded. “I wish you’d change your mind, but I do understand. I will expect to know how both of you are doing. Come back and visit when you can. I’ll miss you old friend, and the little miss too.” He held out his arms and the little girl scrambled from her grandfather's lap to his friend's and snuggled into him. “You will always be welcome here youngling. You might not remember us in a few years, but we’ll always remember you.” He ruffled her hair and tweaked her nose. She looked up and gave a watery smile as she reached up to tug on his black hair that was just a bit too long.

When her grandfather moved to gather her back into his arms her doll dropped to the floor. Immediately tears began to form again and her bottom lip trembled. Before either man could retrieve the doll, the two boys that had been listening from the back of the room ran forward. The smaller of the two reached the doll first and handed it back to the girl while glaring at his cousin that would not have returned the doll in quite the same condition as his cousin. “Don’t cry little bit, here’s your doll.” He looked at her very seriously. “You’ll be back, and we'll take care of you because you will always be one of us.” She met his gaze and nodded solemnly, sniffing back the tears.

The two men exchanged a look over the boy’s head, knowing it was unlikely the children would actually get to see each other again. “Here we go Red, time to head out.” The two men shook hands then gave in and hugged. The two boys stood behind the men and watched their role models part ways.

“Don’t stay away too long old man, we’ll expect regular reports of this one’s growin’ up. And how you are doin’ of course.” Margred’s grandfather grinned and ruffled the hair of his partner. He shot back easily, “You’re not so young anymore yourself. Won’t be long before some gray starts appearing in that black mane of yours.” The two men chuckled, clasped hands once more and parted ways. “Be safe old fox, and take care of that pretty little granddaughter of yours.” The remaining man whispered as his friend and mentor left.

“Why do they have to go?” whispered the boy that had picked up the doll. The remaining man knelt down to be face to face with his little brother, who looked like a miniature version of him. “They have to go stay with the rest of their blood, it’s the way it has to be. They were no longer safe in the city, and none of us would want little Red hurt, right? Her safety and the lives of everyone we care about is more important than wanting to keep them close.” The boy sighed and agreed with his brother, but was sad to see Red and her grandfather go.

“Sissy, why'd you wanna play with a stupid girl anyway? She’s too little to be any fun even if she were a boy.” The larger boy then smacked his cousin on the back of the head and ran from the room. The remaining man and child hugged and slowly walked up the stairs together, sharing their sadness. They were both already missing their departed friends.

Chapter One

Fat, ugly, useless. Some words stay with you, even if you know they are not true. The words flung at her for so long from her uncle and his family since she arrived on their doorstep with her grandfather. At first the slights had been minor and just rolled off her. She knew her grandfather and his friends truly loved her. That was enough, for awhile. But after the insults and slights grew and her grandfather became ill and less active she began to waver in her strength. By now hearing the insults and taking the abuse either saddened her because of what she had lost and could now barely remember or enraged her because these people were blood, family. Family should protect and support its members. This she knew without a doubt.

Since she had come to live here she had been forced to wear her cousins' leftovers and worn clothes, which were all far too big for her, not to mention often torn or stained. But, in the last few years these baggy clothes have been a blessing. When she was only ten years old the gods had decided that her body should start changing. Early and far too quickly her body became that of a woman.

Thankfully she was just as quick to learn to tightly bind her breasts and handle her monthlies without bring any attention to herself. With her breasts bound and reasonably fitting clothes she looked like a skinny young boy. But, most of the time she wore a second layer or larger clothes, just to hide her curves a little bit more. It was effective but often uncomfortable to maintain in the hotter months of the year, but quiet nice in the cold months.

Ugly was a taunt she had no doubt that was actually true, with her family's bright red hair she was a freak. It looked even worse now that she had taken to cutting it short like a boy's. She had no illusions of beauty. Her eyes were too large for her face, and a shade of green that was more the color of grass or leaves than you normally saw in eyes. Freckles dotted her face, so it looked like she was filthy, no matter how much she tried to keep clean. She was too short for her age, making it even easier to go unnoticed or thought to be younger than her thirteen years.

Useless, she supposed that could be debated, depending on whose definition was used. Her skills had managed to keep her alive, but did nothing to add to her uncle's estate. She did not have assigned duties, though she did spend much of her time with the animals, and she was extremely glad that her uncle hadn't thought to use her as slave labor. Just as Margred had started to doubt her own worth because of the daily onslaught of insults, the praise heaped on her cruel cousins made them think themselves invincible and intelligent. Thankfully, they were neither, which made it much easier to outwit them or to hide from them. After hearing the some words so often and for so long they had started to become real to those that heard them. Shaking even the most obvious foundations of truth.

Unfortunately the years of easily hiding in plain sight were gone. One moment of carelessness, relaxing, and her years of trying to escape notice were rendered useless. Until tonight she had not been noticed as anything more than the dirty girl child, a charity case, an annoyance. Now she might face a horrible fate simply because of her desire to be clean, ad the gods' decision to have her body develop so early.

She had always hidden herself crowd of boys. For years she had spent her days running and climbing trees, hiding from the beatings her uncle and cousins would give her if she did anything to irritate them. Using the skills of stealth her grandfather had taught her before his death. She had stayed safe, staying small and unimportant in every one's eyes as much as possible had been her only defense and it had worked until today.

Some of her younger cousins weren't so bad. The now twelve year old twins Richard and Donald had helped her learn to climb trees like a monkey and where some little hiding places were in the manor. Though she had discovered or built most of her favorite hiding places on her own. They had always been reasonably good to her. They had never stood up for her or tried to protect her, but they never snitched on her or hurt her themselves.

Really, as long as her Uncle Henry or cousin Roger didn't catch her doing something they didn't like she would be fine. She had only to stay out of their way. She had been really good at that for years. But when she made a mistake she made it big and paid for it in spades. This mistake would cost her everything.

Margred cursed Roger and her own carelessness as she sat huddled on the roof. She had just finished bathing and had only just put on some pants and finished inding her breasts when she heard a branch snap in the woods behind her. She should have been paying attention; if she had been she would have heard Roger early enough to avoid all this. But, she was too busy nursing her wounded pride and bruised arm. She had failed to evade her uncle's swing at breakfast that morning and paid the price, but this threat was different.

Roger looked at her with a different kind of heat in his eyes. She knew if he managed to find her now she would be hurt in far worse ways than the beatings that she had survived thus far. She had always been grateful for the skills her grandfather had taught her in hiding and thieving. It has been those skills that have kept her alive, and free from serious harm for this long. Now she was doubly glad of her ability to hide from her cousin.

Sighing silently Margred knew it was finally time to leave. She had only stayed so long for grandfather, and now that he was gone there was no real reason to stay. Being honest with herself she could have left a year ago, right after he died. But a threat you knew was much easier to face on a daily basis than the unknown. She always kept a travel bag packed and hidden in the stable along with a plan forged from grandfather's old stories for just such an emergency. She always knew that she would leave; it was just the when and why she finally went that had been in question.

Now she just had to wait out Roger, get her bag and get out unnoticed. It should be easy, if only she could calm her nerves enough to hide like she has in the past. Margred had several hiding spots that Roger would never think to find her. Now that would come in handy as she worked her way off her uncle's land and toward the city of Burghal.

Settling into a more comfortable position she readied herself to sit tight for a couple hours. Then she would steal some food from the kitchen and gather her pack from the stable. Then she would move through the woods, heading north until she hit the county road that would lead the way to Burghal and her uncertain future.

It was three hours before Margred finally climbed down from the roof, and using ever bit of cover she could find made her way to the kitchen. Sneaking into the pantry she started gathering bread and flasks of water. Taking things in small quantities so that the loss wouldn’t be noticed. Suddenly, as she was about to reach for a piece of fruit to stave of some of the hunger she currently faced, having been huddled on the roof during dinner, she froze. Cook was returning to the kitchen. Cook didn’t ever seem to share the ill will many in the household had for her; but Margred couldn’t risk her raising an alarm or alerting anyone of her intentions.

“Child, I’ve got a small satchel of food for you here. I heard Roger raving tonight and thought you’d be smart enough to get supplies before runnin’. You always were a smart one. Roger is asleep now, as is the master. Best get on the road now, before anyone gets up for nightly constitutionals.” Margred stepped out of the pantry and looked at cook. She was in her nightclothes, but still seemed to have a cloud of flour clinging to her.

Margred smiled and gave her thanks, still weary that it might be some sort of a trap. “There is still room in this satchel for what you’ve got there. Hurry up and get your stuff together, while it’s still safe.” Margred nodded, grabbed the satchel and said her thanks again. Margred gave the cook a quick hug and run towards the stables.

Cook watched her go, marveling at how the child could disappear into the shadows. She was still in shock about the hug; the poor child had never shown or received any affection, except with her grandfather. “Be careful and safe little one.” She whispered into the night. Hoping that the girl would make it safe to her grandfather’s friends. She’d do what she could to soothe and delay matters here.

Once in the stables Margred wasted several moments talking to each horse and saying goodbye to them. She then grabbed her hidden pack and took out the clothes and dressed herself in multiple layers to both hide her shape and make more room in the pack for the bounty of food she had not expected. If she was frugal with the food she’d have enough for a week, but that would not be enough to get all the way to Burghal. She would have to forage and hunt to stay fed and strong on the road.

All eyes, little Margred sat on her grandfather's lap listening to the tales of his youth. Feeling safe, warm and loved she pictured the tales of adventure and intrigue that her grandfather had told her a hundred times. The Raven and the Fox, legendary thieves and sometimes spies. She knew her grandfather spun these tales, but underneath the bluster and fog of age and drugs there was truth. The vague memories of her early childhood and parents solidified her belief in her grandfather’s tales. The medallion she wore proved to her that on some level it was all true.

The Raven, master of thieves with jet-black hair and a laugh that made everyone want to join in. The Fox, her grandfather, now lost in the haze of the drugs his youngest son fed him, with bright red hair and bold ideas. Margred lost herself in the stories and pictured herself running alongside the two legends. Dodging children and dogs in the street, running towards nothing, and away from everything.

Falling behind she staggered only to be caught by rough hands. She lost sight of the heroes as she hit the road, still with arms on her shoulders. They shook her instead of helping her up or pinning her down. "Hey, get up kid" she heard in the distance. "Hey, boy."

Shaken and fighting her way to wakefulness she realized that the hands weren't part of her dream; they were real. Sitting up straight she struggled free from the hands and scampered back. Putting up her arms defensively she prepared herself for a fight or preferably to run. Dreaming of the past and her grandfather's stories would not do her any good, especially out on the road. It would only lead to problems, like this.

"Boy, what are you doin' all the way out here. It ain't safe for a little lad like you out here alone." Looking up Margred saw an older man and behind him a small cart led by a mule. Letting out a sigh of relief she relaxed a little, until she saw the bright eyes of the man. They were a deep blue lit with an intelligence that had obviously not dulled with age. She would have to play this carefully.

She had been traveling for five days, and last night she hadn’t bothered to climb into a tree or made a hiding place to sleep in. She had just collapsed in pure exhaustion and laziness in the hollow of a tree just off the road. She had not intended to sleep until daylight, certainly not late enough for travelers to be on the road.

Though this particular traveler seemed harmless she knew she'd have to be careful that he didn't see through her boy's clothes and dirty face and realize her true gender. Never mind discover that she wasn't supposed to be here. No one should really be traveling these roads alone, never mind without the proper papers that would allow entry into a city.

Mumbling apologizes and excuses Margred got up, but kept her head down, and tried to figure out how to stay on the right path to Burghal. She didn't want to raise any one's suspicions, not even this man's. She made a bit of a show brushing off her clothes and gathering up her pack. She took a flask of water out and drank slowly, savoring the taste. Then she corked it again and repacked her bag, water being her whole breakfast. She was already running low on food.

She should only be another few days away now. She gathered up her pack, cast another glance at the man who had woken her and began today's leg of the journey. Not about to be forgotten the old man asked where such a young lad could be going by himself.

Quickly Margred ran a hand through her short hair and then pulled a knit cap out of her pack and covered her hair. Although she had dirtied her hair, and the color was unrecognizable, she was not going to take any chances. She finally answered the question by muttering that she was carrying a message to Burghal for her grandfather. Happily leaving out that she was running away from her extended family and that her grandfather had been dead for a little over a year.

She really did have a message, of sorts. If she could find the Raven, or his family, she had to pass on the news of her grandfather dying. She had the medallion which would prove her identity and gain sanctuary in the thieves' own family. So she wasn't really lying, just not telling the whole truth. She hated being deceitful, but she had to protect herself. Her survival had to come first.

The old man looked at her like he knew that she wasn't telling the truth. She kept moving on down the road, with her new companion not far behind her, and his mule pulling his cart right behind. Odd, he didn't even seem to have to lead the mule. The beast just followed. Maybe the old man had just taken the route so often that the mule new it by route, or maybe he just had that odd connection with his animal that she had with birds. "I'm headin' that way myself. You could join Fred and I, and help gather wood and such at night so as I don't have to go wondering with my creaking joints in the woods If you don't mind travelin' with an old man and mule."

"Fred?" she questioned. He gestured with his head toward the mule. "That's Fred, the best companion an old man could ever have on dusty roads like these." The old man took her non-committal grunt as an agreement to travel together and began to walk beside her rather than behind her. He began to tell tales about the current state of the country. She only half listened to his chatter about robbers on the roads and the corrupt Shamus in the area. Margred took that little bit of information and stored away for future reference, though she was hardly surprised. As far as she'd seen in life so far the people with power, those that were supposed to uphold the law seemed to be the most inclined to break the rules or take advantage.

"I'm Geoff", said the old man suddenly, breaking from his stories and Margred from her thoughts. "We can't be calling each other just 'hey you' if we are going to travel together. Here I am just rambling on, after giving you a fright." Margred glance over at the old man, who she supposed she should can Geoff that that he offered his name and all. He watched her expectantly and Margred supposed he was waiting for a name in return.

"Red... just call me Red" Margred muttered. Again she was telling half-truths, though her father and grandfather had both called her red for the mass of hair she used to try to keep tame. But the name was her only connection she still had with them; as they had both been called Red in their youths as well thanks to the families tell tale shock of red hair. Not the orange that most redheads have- a true red. Between her hair color, and her name, she had no hope of being called anything but Red. Not that anyone would know that Margred's hair was that color now, with the dirt that coated her from head to toe. No one else in the family had called her that since grandfather died.

Her uncle and cousins rarely called her anything but insults or obscenities. She quickly derailed that train of though after remembering how those names had changed and taken on a new threat as soon as Roger had noticed her as female, instead of just a stray to kick around. For a moment she thought about the things Roger had promised to do when he caught her, the names and threats he called out while searching for her. She wondered how long it took him to realize that she had left. Were they looking for her, or just thankful that there was one less mouth to feed and content to let he go?

"Hrmm" Geoff grunted, apparently not noticing her reluctance to talk. However, Margred did not miss his speculative glace that followed her after that announcement. She looked back down at her feet and continued to pull into herself and appear as small of a target as possible. "Not many men, never mind boys, can live up to sharing a nickname with the famed Fox. Surely not one as meek as you. Best hope no one takes your use of that name as a challenge." Margred tried to hide her surprise, but still stumbled over her own feet when she looked over at Geoff. "What's that?" She questioned. "The Fox?"

"Surely you've heard the stories of the Raven and the Fox?" At Margred's nod Geoff continued. "The Fox had flaming red hair. His friends and family had always called him Red rather than by his real name because of that hair. When he began his career that led him to be known as the Fox he left behind roses that matched his hair for his female victims."

"Why didn't they just call him Fox?" Margred questioned despite herself. Grandfather had never included this tidbit in his stories. Absently she lifted a hand to rub on the medallion where it hung. She thought she knew everything of import about the Fox, if not about both him and his partner the Raven. "At least after he earned the name."

"Well, what legends get names like that off the bat? People need other people to start telling tales about them to properly earn such names. Even the Fox had to be known as something else before becoming a part of local legend. A parent or sibling would not change what they call a loved one, just because the rest of the city gives them a new name. Even if they wanted too it would have made it far to easy to catch them if everyone in their daily lives called them by such infamous names."

Absently Margred nodded. She had never considered that anyone would know her grandfather's nickname. Strange that this man would know something so important about her grandfather when she hadn’t even thought about who he might have been before becoming the Fox. If it were such a secret that Red and Fox were nicknames for the same man, how would it be part of the stories when she hadn't even known? How many people knew this information? Wouldn't that defeat the purpose of the dual names? Questions raced through Margred's head making her dizzy.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts she realized that it was too late to change what she was going to be called out in the world. She would just have to be extra careful to conceal her identity and gender. Besides who would connect a little waif in clothes far too large to the infamous Fox? They wouldn't make a connection, at least not unless they realized her true hair color. How many families had hair like hers? She's just had to make sure her hair stayed dirty, or maybe add ashes from the fire to her hair after bathing to mask the color. The hat would just have to remain on her head hiding her hair for a while longer. At least until she was safe.

Her companion seemed too observant. He knew too much. It was obvious that Geoff was smart enough that he could cause Margred some trouble if she let her guard slip for even a moment. He was too well versed in the lore of the Raven and the Fox. Geoff could be someone that had been in the immediate circle her grandfather was friends with, or he was part of the teams working to catch them. Either way, letting him know her connection to the Fox at this point could be very dangerous. Margred was going to have be extremely careful to stay inconspicuous while making sure Geoff was not a danger to her.

Chapter Two

Geoff had given her much to think about in his ramblings. He didn't seem to censor his thoughts at all. But at the same time, none of his words were careless. He spoke quite freely about his disdain for the Shamus and local law enforcement, the state of the roads and the safety of the general populace. His words were disapproving, but nothing so raw that he would be in danger if overheard by soldiers or the Shamus’s men.

He muttered about the poor in the city and the problems they faced, again leading him to rant about the Shamus, who was apparently at the root of all the problems in his eyes. He had only paused a few moments after they had discussed names before diving right back into his feelings about the state of the commoners here.

He had odd views for an older man, who seemed to be doing well enough. Geoff had his mule, and enough food. He even was carrying enough food to keep Margred better fed than she had been in years. Life couldn't be too hard for him. Those who lived well tended to be on the side of the law, but Geoff was apparently different. Very different, but somehow familiar to her. He shared knowledge that Margred needed about the current state of the world, and seemed to share similar views as her grandfather had. This was soothing but also disturbing for the very same familiarity.

When they had stopped for lunch Margred didn't even have time to scurry away and try to find water or anything to eat. Geoff just pulled a packet from the cart and handed Margred a fairly large piece of cheese, some bread and offered her a sip from a flagon. Timidly she took what was offered after some attempt to refuse and many 'thank you's'. No one had offered her food or anything for that matter without complaints or an attempt to cause pain, by words or blows. This simple sharing shook her and made her more concerned about where she would stand with Geoff when they reached the city. Would he expect some sort of payment? Had he seen through her disguise and plan to sell her off as a slave? Or use her himself?

Margred mentally shook herself. So far Geoff had been nothing but nice. Though this raised some warning flags in her head, she could worry about it yet. First she needed to get to the city. She would approach everything one problem at a time. It was the only was she would be able to keep going. If she started thinking too much about what would happen next she would never get past her fears.

She still had to find the family of the Raven. That was a task that she did not revel in. Hopefully they were still in the city, and still willing to help the Fox's family. Dealing with getting into the city must be her first concern. Hopefully if she just stayed with Geoff she could duck in with him. She might have to use the message story that she had told Geoff since it was mainly true, but if the city guards asked exactly whom the message was for, she'd be in real trouble. All she knew was to head to a tavern called the Salty Dog. There she should be able to get herself into the Raven's audience. At least that's what she hoped, as long as things haven't changed too much since her grandfather had last traveled to Burghal.

Geoff shook her out of her thoughts by stopping in his tracks and turning to tend to Fred. The mule had followed faithfully behind Geoff all day. Geoff leaned to whisper in Fred's ear and for the first time since Margred had joined them actually led the mule. Geoff led Fred off the road, clucking to the animal and getting him and the small cart off the road and into the trees. Curious Margred looked after them, but stayed on the edge of the road. "Red, there's some company acomin' down the road. Fred and I want to be out of the way. You should likely join us else you might get trampled." Frowning Margred looked up and down the road, but in the end she shrugged and joined her companions in the trees.

Just as she cleared the tree line she heard the tell tale sound of horse hooves and talking men. It sounded like a group of soldiers or something. No one she needed to be noticed by. Geoff and Fred had somehow become camouflaged in the trees and shrubbery, so were invisible from the road. Margred followed their lead and made herself small and as hidden in the woods as she dared, staying still and silent. She could have hidden better, but there was no need to let Geoff see all her abilities, just in case she would need an advantage later. It didn't take long for the group to pass by, but still Geoff, Margred and even Fred seemed to hold their breathe for a few extra minutes.

Odd, why would a simple old man like Geoff and his mule have to hide? Maybe they were just afraid of harassment or thievery from the soldiers. With all the complaints and harsh words Geoff had in regards to the people in power Margred shouldn't have been surprised. But it made her wonder just what was in the small cart that Fred was pulling. Was it something that Geoff didn't want seen, or perhaps something valuable enough that if he lost it to soldiers he would no longer be able to eat as well as he currently was. Tonight, after they bedded down for the night, Margred promised herself to take a peek. Just to see.

When the sun started to dip behind the trees, and the sky started to turn shades of red and blue Geoff, Fred and Margred decided it was time to stop for the night. Geoff led them off the road, and to a small clearing that was out of sight from the path. Fred didn't balk at being led into the trees any more than he had when they had hidden from the soldiers earlier in the day. Geoff gathered together some food from the cart and Margred went into the woods and gathered some wood and water.

They spend the evening watching the fire and Geoff continued to talk about the happenings in Burghal over the past few years. Margred listened, mainly to get a feel for the city she had never been to, but was pinning all her hope for the future on. She had heard stories about the city, from her grandfather, and now from Geoff, but frankly feared her first night on her own in such a large city. She didn't remember any home aside from her uncle's estate and vague feelings of the cottage she had lived in with her parents before the accident that took them from her.

She had no idea how she would survive if she couldn't find her grandfather's friends, or if they turned her away. She knew what could happen to girls, women and even young boys in the city that are desperate or caught with no one to protect them. Her disguise as a boy would do her no good if the wrong people caught her up. This brought her back to her fears that Geoff might be the wrong kind of person. He seemed too knowledgeable about both the law enforcement and their rivals.

So, as Geoff started to doze off Margred pretended to do the same, keeping an eye on the older man. She waited until he was snoring and seemed in deep sleep, then waited a little bit longer to be sure that he was really asleep. Finally Margred felt it was safe to make her move. First she went slowly into the wood, as if she were going to answer nature's call. Then she looped around their little camp to come up behind Geoff's cart. It was a small cart, with a little bit of straw around the edges and hanging off the end. There was a large cloth covering up the rest of the contents. Margred knew that there was some food stored in the very front of the cart, but what filled up the rest was the mystery.

Margred moved carefully through the brush closer to the cart. She could make out the shape of a barrel and a chest underneath the cloth. It looked like their might be room for her to fit in their too if they hit trouble at the gates. Just as she was about to lift the edge of the cloth Fred looked at her from the tree he was grazing under and she heard Geoff's voice from the camp. "You could 'ave asked, I might have told you. Or were you planin' on stealin from me and runnin' off?"

Margred jumped back guiltily and slunk back to her spot on the ground by the fire. She was embarrassed to be caught snooping, but not for doing the snooping. She should have been able to manage such a simple thing without getting caught. Shaking her head she sat back down and cast a glance at Geoff. She muttered and apology, then gathered up her courage and practically whispered, "I wasn't stealin', just curious. So what are you hauling to Burghal?"

"Since you asked so nicely, I'm just hauling some of my old possessions back to town. Just bringing some clothes, tools and a nice cask of port. I had lived in the city years ago. I'm going back to join my family before winter hits." Geoff chuckled. "Afraid I was smuggling or bringing in somethin' that might get us inta trouble at the main gates? If I were they wouldn't be able to find it."

"Gee, that makes me feel better," muttered Margred as she tried to get cozy and ready to sleep again. "At least I know you wont bring any extra attention to us at the gates." Grimacing at the knowledge Geoff was well aware his traveling companion was avoiding attention Margred shifted again and put it from her mind. She struggled to quite her mind and relax so she could drift of to sleep. She still wanted a peek at what was on the cart, but it wasn't going to happen tonight. Breathing deeply and relaxing her muscles one at a time she finally drifted off.

It wasn't long before Margred was lost in her dreams of the Fox and the Raven, made more real because of her own adventure. She spent her night running with her visions of her grandfather and his friend, who now had bright blue eyes that seemed familiar. Losing herself in happy memories of her grandfather and his infamous past Margred again felt safe and protected, at least until dawn, when it was time to continue on the road to Burghal.

As she slept Geoff go up and double check that the tarp was still secure and that his companion had not seen anything of import. Even if the little traveler had seen what was there, Geoff was certain they wouldn't know how important it might be. The lock on the chest had a distinctive design, and only a privileged few knew what it meant, but it still would not do to display it. He kept an eye on his young companion wondering what the lad was hiding, and what he was running from. As the sun started to rise again he went back to his spot by the fire and pondered this latest development.

This time it wasn't a shaking that awoke Margred , but a tapping. A constant pecking and pulling at the tight knit cap she wore. "What the… oh, stop it you silly thing." muttered Margred . She moved her head to speak to the bird that had woken her. She met the onyx eyes of a blue-black grackle. Looking around she noted that Geoff was over by Fred and the cart, so she spoke softly to the bird. "Keep doin' that and you'll blow my cover silly little man."

Margred sat up, and the grackle moved to sit on her shoulder. "No shiny hairs for your nest or to give a your lady today. Not until I safe in the Burghal." She shook her finger at her old friend. "No following me around like a puppy, I'm trying to keep from being noticed. So act like my companions here are like my cousins, and don't be noticed, okay. We’ll talk later, when Geoff is out of sight." The grackle flew up into a nearby tree, keeping an eye on Margred . She shook her head. "What took you so long anyway, silly Bastian?"

Margred looked around to make sure the strange exchange had not been noticed. Geoff was not looking her way, but the man seemed to always be more aware of his surrounds than was good for Margred ’s piece of mind. Hopefully he had been too absorbed in his own tasks and thoughts to notice. Even if he had noticed, he was keeping it to himself for now. Margred was glad; she wasn’t ready to talk about this with anyone. Especially not some strange man that found her on the road.

Now that her childhood friend had found her, how was she going to keep his presence from being noted, and her chats with him quiet? It was easier when she lived with the family. She was ignored most of the time, unless she made a mistake that brought her attention. She had always been able to hide up on the roof to talk to him, or up in a tree.

Now she traveled with Geoff, who was far too observant. He would definitely notice is she started traveling in the treetops, or taking long walks of the road alone. In the city Bastian would have more places to hide, but until then, she would have an even harder time staying unnoticed than before.

Margred pulled her hat down a little more although it was already covering as much of her head and hair as it could, and glanced at Geoff again. He still wasn't looking her way, but that didn't mean a thing. She would ignore the party's newest member as best she could while Geoff was nearby, only talking to him when she was off the road answering nature's call or when she was certain Geoff was asleep. No more snooping or unnecessary conversation with the man. It was simply too dangerous.

"Time to get started?" she questioned Geoff. Maybe if they got on the road and made good time they would be to the city tonight. That would do a lot to ease Margred 's mind. Geoff looked at her, quickly finished caring for Fred and nodded.

"Let's get back on the road." He started back towards the road, and Fred followed behind. Margred sighed in relief, shouldered her pack and went toward the road as well. Overhead Bastian moved in the same direction as the small group on the ground. He was curving his flight path and staying a bit ahead of them in the air, so it wasn't as obvious that he considered himself part of the group. Margred did her best not to watch the bird, but still kept an eye on his shadow when it crossed her path on the ground before her.

They hadn’t gotten far when Geoff stopped again and at the same time Margred heard Bastian squawk a warning. More soldiers were coming down the road. As one the group made its way into the woods bordering the road.

Something big must be happening in the city to warrant this many soldiers heading to the city at once. Just one more thing for Margred to worry about. Together they watched the soldiers from their cover in the trees and thought about what this might mean. The entrance to Burghal might be better protected, and more difficult to pass than either had suspected, but both were prepared for the challenge.

It wasn’t until the soldiers were long gone and they had returned to the road that Geoff looked at Margred and questioned her. “Hearing improving, or did you have a special warning?” Geoff cast doubt on how quickly she noted the approach of the soldiers this time. Geoff then cast his eyes skyward. Margred flushed and continued to stare at the path as they walked.

“Just getting used to your signals” she stuttered. Hoping he would buy the half-truth even though he never seemed to believe the rest of them. Geoff’s first reply was just a grunt. They continued down the road quite a ways before Geoff looked at her, a little harder than he had previously.

“One of these days I’ll get your whole story lad, I’ll figure you out one way or another.” Margred smiled to herself; at least her gender was still hidden. But Geoff was a smart man; she knew he could figure it all out if she wasn’t careful.

“There’s nothin’ to figure out. I’m just a kid delivering’ a message.” Margred uttered her first outright lie to Geoff. He looked at her like he knew it, but she was too busy watching the toes of her boots as she walked to meet his eyes.

Geoff studied his companion but so far had not figured out anything, which was unusual for him. Off in the trees Bastian laughed, Margred knew he was listening to them while still keeping an eye out for soldiers and other dangers.

When they stopped for lunch Margred wandered further into the woods than normal to answer nature’s call. Finally she would be able to talk to Bastian. She looked forward to hearing what he had to say. She missed the silly bird when they were separated.

Margred took care of her necessities then climbed into a tree. Once safely perched on a sturdy branch she gave a soft whistle. The grackle flew over to her and perched on her knee. “Silly bird, are Roger and Henry looking for me or are they just thankful I’m gone?” The bird let out a series of whistles and squawks. Margred went pale, and then flushed a deep red.

Somehow she had always been able to understand the bird, which had come in handy over the years. Bastain’s squawks and whatnot relayed news that unnerved Margred . Everyone seemed to be quite upset at her leaving, and measures were being taken to get her back. Now she knew how angry the uncle and some of her cousins were that she was gone. Roger and a couple of his friends were heading out to area homesteads and then cities to search for her.

Margred took a deep breath and was thankful that she had a head start. According to Bastian Roger was the one heading in this direction, but he was stopping at homes for shelter and to question people if they’d seen her. She should make it into the city with Geoff before Roger made it there. Hopefully she would be under the Raven’s protection by the time he got into Burghal.

The Raven and crew would treat her better than her remaining blood relatives, right? Her grandfather had told her that she would be considered family by them, as he was. That they would be able and willing to protect her. But, the raven and his ilk were thieves at best, spies and assassins in the worst. What would they do to a thirteen-year-old girl? Would it be better than her cousin’s plans for her? She tried not to think about what they might have in mind for her, focusing only on getting to the city.

Realizing she’d been gone a bit too long she hurried back to where she had left Geoff. Bastian went ahead and settled himself just out of Geoff’s sight. Margred rejoined the group and they started back down the road. She moved a little faster now that she knew what family she had left was hunting her, and likely had plans for her that she wouldn’t like.

Geoff continued to keep a close eye on her. Certain that there was still much to figure out about his travel companion. He seemed so young, but carried himself like someone that had the very world on their shoulders.

Due to my hope to have this published in the future I will not be posting further chapters, only this short exert. If you wish to read more please let me know. I will be looking for volunteers to proofread.