Bryony

I must be a damn fool, Bryony thought as she tried to find a comfortable spot to settle down for the night. The area tucked between the hill lands was stony, and no matter how much she rolled around or changed position, there was always something poking into her. Eventually, she was forced to fold Ludo’s blanket into a sleeping pad of sorts and curl up on her side.

Just beyond the edges of the nearest hillock she could barely make out the lights of Slough. Was Ludo tucked in a warm, comfortable bed right now while she shivered in the cold with rocks stabbing her ribs? She felt the ghosts of his arms wrapped around her. “For body warmth,” she reminded herself.

Anyway, he probably wasn’t in bed right now. He was probably sidled up to a bar in some tavern, drinking himself blind and flirting with any creature of the womanly persuasion that had two legs and a suggestive smile. That is, if he wasn’t fighting. She’d count herself lucky if he showed up at the agreed upon time the next morning. More likely than not, she’d need to pay off some lawman to release him from jail.

Or she could just leave him to rot.

She frowned, as something had changed in the village just past the edge of the hillock. More lights had been turned on in more windows, maybe? It was brighter, that was for damn sure. So bright that its light had doused some of the stars painting the sky above it. Almost like the buildings themselves were the source of the light, almost like they were…

Burning.

The realization only tore through her after her natural instincts had arrived at the same conclusion, such that she was already on her feet and running, abandoning her pack and blanket as she sprinted toward Slough.

The city was a wall of fire.

Flames shot from roofs, licking at the night sky.

Those buildings that had so far been unscathed were quickly lit as the flames traveled from structure to structure. Which one was Ludo in? She hoped he’d gotten so drunk one of the barkeepers had had the good sense to toss him out on his arse. Maybe when the blaze started, he was wandering the streets aimlessly, looking to pick a fight.

But what if he was inside one of those buildings?

That thought sent fresh adrenaline to Bryony’s limbs, and she pushed herself faster and faster, finally reaching the edge of the town, stopping briefly at a watering trough meant for horses to splash water on her shirt before lifting it over her mouth and nose.

And then, eyes burning, she ran into the smoke- and flame-filled town.

Smoke blinded her, but she blinked through it, trying to stay low as she searched for any sign of him. Or anyone she could ask about him. The streets were empty, not a single person spilling from the enflamed buildings. Had no one managed to escape? Were they all trapped inside their fiery tombs? Was an entire town of people about to be burned to death? A darker question occurred to her: