The Forestwalker

by Sarah Wheeler

Table of Contents

Chapter 18

“Shhh,” Kastor said, his teeth flashing in the darkness as he grinned down at Gareth, who was gaping up at his young master in surprise.

“What are you...? How did you...?” This was the last thing Gareth had been expecting. He almost tried to sit up before remembering that he was immobilized by his chains. As Kastor leaned over him with a key in his hand, Gareth opened his mouth to tell Kastor that his chains had been replaced by the slavers, then closed it again when he felt the key click in the lock and the leash opened and fell away from the collar around his neck. How had Kastor known? And where – or from whom – had he gotten the key? Gareth wished he could ask, but it seemed safer to stay silent for now. Questions could be answered once they were safely away from here.

Gareth sat up slowly and carefully as Kastor removed the chains from the shackles on his wrists and ankles, both of them doing their best to keep from making any noise. None of the other children were awake, though Gareth supposed they could be feigning sleep like he had done. Kastor had obviously come prepared to release him, but what about the others? Gareth wasn't going to leave here without them, regardless of his young master's plans, and he prepared himself to argue for the other children's freedom as Kastor finished removing his chains and sat back to look at him with another congratulatory smile.

But his preparations were unnecessary. “Release the others and let them know we're all getting out of here,” Kastor whispered as he pressed the key into Gareth's hand, “then wait here until I come back with our guides, okay?”

Gareth took the key as Kastor got to his knees and turned to go. If there were others out there, were they planning to rescue some of the captives as well? If so, than Kastor deserved to know that his father was out there in one of the wagons. “Kastor, wait,” he whispered. “Your father... he's here too. Out there in one of the wagons. You have to find him, set him free.”

“My father's here?” Kastor said, almost forgetting to whisper as he turned back to stare at Gareth. Gareth nodded. “Don't worry, I'll find him,” Kastor said, his broad grin audible even in his whispers. “Everyone's getting out of here tonight.”

“Everyone?”

“Everyone.” Kastor nodded decisively, then melted back out of the tent into the darkness.

As soon as Kastor was gone, Gareth crawled silently over to Holly and shook her gently awake. She opened her eyes and looked around in confusion in the darkness for a moment before noticing Gareth, and when she finally recognized him the look on her face said she thought she was dreaming... right up until Gareth removed her chains and helped her sit up. “Gareth? What's going on? Where did you get that key?”

“Shh; we're escaping,” Gareth whispered, putting a finger to his lips.

“Now? But I thought... What about the plan?”

“The plan's been thrown out. Kastor's here; this is all his doing, not mine.”

“What? You mean... your master? He's here? How...?”

Gareth cut her off. “I didn't ask. Questions can be answered once we're well away from here.” He was already crawling over to Nora and shaking her gently awake. Holly hurried over to sit next to her friend as Gareth removed Nora's chains and explained everything to her. When Nora saw that her friend was free, she threw herself at Holly and hugged her tightly. Nora wasn't interested in how or why the escape was happening so suddenly; she just wanted to know how soon they could get away from here. Gareth reassured her that they would be leaving as soon as Kastor returned, then made his way around to Mischa and Adela, who had both been woken up by the commotion. He explained what was going on to both of them as he removed their chains. Adela was nervous and uncertain about running away from her master, but Mischa didn't let her stay that way for long. He pulled Adela into his lap, held her close, and whispered comforting things in her ear, and within a minute she was as excited as everyone else, which made Gareth smile as he made his way to the back of the tent.

Cesra was awake now too, but, in contrast to all the other children, he looked absolutely terrified. “I can't run,” he whispered as he tried to stop Gareth from removing his chains. “Leave me here. Save the others. I'll only slow you down.”

“Not a chance, Cesra,” Gareth said. The poor boy was so weak; there wasn't any real effort behind his feeble struggles to keep Gareth from removing his chains, and once they were gone he could only stare at his hands in amazement. “I told you: we all go. You don't have to run.” As Cesra continued to stare at his hands, Gareth wrapped him in warm blankets and carefully picked him up off his stretcher. He was as small and light as Shanna, even though he was several years older. “I'll carry you. You're going to be free, Cesra. We're all going to be free.”

“But... I don't know how to be free,” Cesra said in a very small voice as tears began to well in his eyes. “What if I do it wrong?”

“It's not something you can do wrong, Cesra. Don't worry, I'll explain what freedom is once we're all away from here and safe, alright?”

Cesra nodded and laid his head heavily in the crook of Gareth's arm, but frightened tears still streamed silently down his face. Gareth held the little boy close and rocked him gently until he closed his eyes and fell asleep again. As he wiped the tears from Cesra's cheeks, a niggling doubt manifested in the back of Gareth's mind. He had not expected that kind of reaction from Cesra. Was giving Cesra his freedom really the best thing for him? Cesra had always been a slave; freedom was as alien a concept to him as slavery had been to Gareth before he had been captured. The comparison was apt, Gareth decided, except that he had been forced to adapt to slavery. But freedom didn't work that way. What if Cesra couldn't adapt? What if he never learned how to be independent and self-sufficient? How did you teach someone about freedom, or how to live as a free person?

But worrying about Cesra's ability to adapt to freedom was inconsequential, Gareth reminded himself as he looked down at the boy sleeping in his arms, his head and chest swathed in bandages, one of his arms and both of his legs in casts. Freedom was better than slavery, that was an objective fact, and though Cesra's life might not be easy and there was no guarantee of happiness just by being free, the only guarantee he would find in slavery was pain. Content once again that he was doing the right thing, Gareth silently promised that he would do everything he could to help Cesra adjust for as long as he could and would leave the younger boy in good hands when he finally had to go west with Kastor and Shanna again.

It felt like they all sat there in the darkness for hours waiting for Kastor, barely breathing as they tried to interpret every muffled sound that filtered through the tent's heavy canvas, but in reality it was probably less than thirty minutes. Gareth had made his way to the front of the tent with Cesra and was sitting near the tent flap when Kastor came back, followed by two young men – both forest dwellers – that Gareth didn't recognize.

“Everyone here ready to go?” Kastor asked Gareth in a whisper when he saw him. When Gareth nodded, Kastor gestured to the two older boys behind him. “This is John and Evan. Do you want them to take the kid on the stretcher?” he asked skeptically when he saw that Gareth was carrying Cesra.

“It's alright; I've got him,” Gareth said, trying to project decisiveness through his low whisper. “The others will need to be looked after, though. This is all a little sudden.”

“Well, it wouldn't have been a very effective rescue if anyone had seen it coming,” Kastor said with a low chuckle. “Come on, let's go.” He addressed all the waiting children, who were staring silently at him with wide, apprehensive eyes. “Just follow John and Evan north, stay quiet, and move as quickly as possible.” He sent John and Evan out first, then gestured the four other children out of the tent one at a time, then helped Gareth to his feet and followed him and Cesra out into the darkness.

When he exited the tent, Gareth saw their guard sitting slumped over on the ground near the tent entrance. “Don't worry,” Kastor whispered in his ear, “he's not dead. Only sleeping. Your idea, remember?”

Gareth wasn't sure what Kastor meant by that, but he saw that all the slavers who had been on guard duty were slumped over at their posts, all the tents were silent, and all the fires had gone out. In the dim light from the half-full moon overhead, Gareth saw small groups slipping away into the darkness in all directions from the wagons that held the captives. Kastor really had meant it when he'd said that he was getting everyone away from here, and Gareth was dying to know how he'd managed all this, but he buried his curiosity and held his tongue.

They all moved quickly and quietly away from the camp, heading north. Holly and Nora kept close on the heels of their two forest-dweller guides, their eyes shining with joy every time they looked at one another. Mischa held Adela's hand and kept her moving as fast as the others, and when she got too tired, he picked her up and carried her piggyback. Gareth moved slower and more carefully than the others so as not to wake Cesra or cause him unnecessary pain, but he did his best to keep up all the same. No one spoke for over an hour, but when Gareth began to fall behind, Kastor came to walk next to him and asked, “Are you holding up okay?”

“Yes, sir. I'll be fine.” Gareth looked down at Cesra, who was still fast asleep and looking more peaceful and contented than Gareth had ever seen him, despite the distress he had exhibited before falling asleep. The reminder that he was carrying Cesra to freedom and a new life gave Gareth the strength he needed to keep going, and would until they were safely back in the forest.

“You know, you don't have to do everything on your own, Gareth,” Kastor said with a gentle smile. “You can let others carry your burdens every once in a while.”

It was an odd sentiment coming from a master to his slave, so Gareth chose to misunderstand it as an aborted order. “Not this one, sir, if that's alright. I made him a promise, and I want to see the look on his face when he wakes up to freedom for the first time. I'll keep up, sir. He's not a burden.”

“What's his name?” Kastor asked.

“Cesra, sir.”

“What happened to him? Is he the reason you were with the slaves instead of the captives?”

“Yes, sir. The first night I was there, he tripped and spilled a plate of food that he was bringing to one of the slavers and the man almost killed him for it. Cesra's master was second-in-command of the caravan and was not at all happy to have his slave put out of commission by an underling, so he had the man find him a replacement from among the captives. Being a trained and collared slave already, I was Cesra's logical replacement. If they hadn't done that, sir, I would have escaped a lot sooner. I had a brilliant plan and everything. I'm just glad that my failure to escape didn't lead to you and Miss Shanna being captured too, sir.”

“No need to explain, Gareth. I know all about your escape plans,” Kastor said, and he laughed when Gareth turned to him with a puzzled look. “Tara and I have been following that caravan for a week, since two days after you were taken, in preparation for getting you out of there. I watched almost everything you did, and some nights I even listened to the conversations you all were having in your tent. It sounded like a brilliant plan, too. I'm sorry we couldn't let you attempt it, but we had our own plan to release all the captives, not just the six of you, and we couldn't let the caravan get any further away from the rendezvous point. We took a chance, waiting as long as we did, but at least the rescue went well. I only hope that everyone makes it safely back to the forest.”

“I saw small groups scattering in all directions. Are they all going back to the forest?”

Kastor nodded. “We're all meeting in one village, but we felt it would be safer if the slavers thought that their escaped captives had gone in all directions. Not that we expect them to enter the forest to get anyone back, but the more confused they are, the more memorable this escape will be to them. And we want it to be memorable. We planned for it to be, because it's going to be the first of many, I think.”

Gareth desperately wanted more information about what Kastor had been up to over the past week, how he had avoided Devon's plan and organized this impressive attack against the slave trade, but this conversation was sapping his small and necessary reserves of strength, so he confined his curiosity to one final question. “Did you find your father, sir? Is he well?”

At that, Kastor's face fell. “No, I didn't see him,” he said softly, “but I believe you when you said he was there somewhere. I sent Tara to find him; she promised to bring him to the rendezvous point personally.” But then, he smiled, and looked up at Gareth with wonder in his eyes. “I can't believe you found him! It has to be some kind of miracle, doesn't it?”

“Just luck, I think, sir,” Gareth said, but he returned his young master's broad grin. “Wonderful, fateful, improbable luck.”

“If you say so,” Kastor said with a laugh. “But if that's the case, then I think even my father would say that you're our good-luck charm. When I think of all you've saved us from, all the promises you've made and how you've managed to keep all of them... How do you do all of it?”

“I don't know, sir. I just... the promises I made mean a lot to me, so even when everything seemed hopeless, I always believed that I would find some way to keep them. It may seem silly to say so, sir, but I believe that the universe is smiling on all of us, and that these lucky coincidences are its way of telling us that it wants us to find our way safely home.”

At those words, Kastor's smile turned enigmatic. “I don't think that sounds silly at all, Gareth. I think you're more right than you could possibly know.”

They stopped briefly to rest just after sunrise, and all the children slumped gratefully into the high grass as John and Evan moved among them with canteens of water, dried fruit cakes, and words of encouragement. Once they were all seated, introductions were made all around, initiated by Kastor.

“As most of you have probably figured out, I am Gareth's master: Kastor Crane,” Kastor said as he sat down among them. “Can I ask all of you your names and where you come from?”

“I'm Mischa Torel,” Mischa spoke up first, “from Atherton, in Eshara.”

“I'm Adela Jessop,” Adela, who was sitting in Mischa's lap, said shyly after some gentle prodding from the older boy. “I used to live in Jesra, in Shasta.”

Holly gave Kastor a considering look as she said, “I'm Holly Lightsong, and this is Nora Birchsinger. We're both from the northern forest.” Kastor nodded knowingly at this, and Holly's eyes widened.

“So are we,” Evan spoke up. “Evan and John Snowfire. And don't worry; once we get you safely there, we have plans to help you all find your way back to your homes and your families.”

“But... what if we don't have anyone or anywhere to go home to, sir?” Adela spoke up in a small voice. “My parents died when I was a baby. I was an orphan when the slavers took me.”

“Don't worry, little one,” John said, affectionately ruffling her short brown curls. “We'll find you a good home and a family to love you. We rescued a lot of people who have lost everything tonight. I'm sure you're not the only child who needs a home. And, if nothing else, I promise you that you will have a home in our forest if you wish to stay.”

“Really?” Adela asked, her eyes shining as she looked up at him. Cesra was not the only one of them that had never known a home or family, Gareth suddenly realized guiltily. Adela may not have been a slave all her life, but she had been just as alone and afraid of the uncertainty of freedom as Cesra had been, and Gareth had been so preoccupied with helping Cesra that he hadn't even noticed. He was glad that someone had, and it seemed that Adela had found her protector in John Snowfire, who picked her up and carried her piggyback the rest of the way to the forest, relieving Mischa of his burden. Mischa seemed glad to have the assistance, but he obviously cared for Adela as well, because he walked close to John and never took his eyes off the two of them.

Gareth noticed that Mischa wasn't the only one watching someone with a look of odd intensity as they continued on their way: Kastor was also keeping a close eye on Holly now, an expression of fierce pride on his face. Gareth remembered that Kastor had not been the least bit surprised to find out Holly and Nora's names, which meant that he must have known who they were before he had rescued them. Gareth was certain that how Kastor had acquired that information was an important element of the story of how he and Shanna had kept from being traded to the caravan for Holly by Devon. He was even more desperate now to know exactly what had happened while he had been gone – and where Shanna was, come to think of it – but moving forward was taking all of his energy now, so it didn't take much self-restraint to remain silent despite his curiosity.

They all pressed on despite their exhaustion and were able to reach the border of the forest by midmorning. Gareth noted, despite his exhaustion, that they had begun traveling northeast after their brief rest, and it appeared that Kastor was taking them some place very specific. That sense was confirmed when they skirted the forest border to the east for a short distance after reaching it, and Gareth was not at all surprised to find when Kastor finally led them past the border into the forest proper that he took them straight to a small clearing set up for their arrival, complete with blankets, food, and wood laid for a fire. All the escaped slaves collapsed with relief as Evan passed out food and blankets and John got a fire going.

“Make yourselves at home,” Kastor told them all as he helped Gareth make Cesra a comfortable bed on the ground. “We're just going to wait here for a few more of our friends, then we'll get you all to the nearest village where you can get good meals and a good night's sleep. Until then, eat and get some rest. We're safe here, I promise you that.”

All the children took Kastor's advice to heart. Holly and Nora lay down on blankets next to each other, whispering to one another and pointing with shining eyes at the trees and the stream and the squirrels leaping among the branches. Mischa tucked Adela into a bed near the fire and waited for her to fall asleep, then took a blanket of his own and curled up next to her, falling asleep almost immediately. Kastor was helping John and Evan make sure everyone was well-fed and comfortable, so Gareth turned his attention to his own charge, using this brief rest period to wake up Cesra and make sure that he was doing alright.

“Where are we? Is this a dream?” Cesra asked sleepily as he stared up in bewilderment at the trees towering above him.

“No, Cesra,” Gareth said gently. “This is the northern forest I told you about – my home. We escaped last night, don't you remember?”

Cesra looked puzzled for a moment, then his eyes widened fearfully. “We ran away?” he asked in a trembling whisper. “But... where will we go? What will we do on our own? What if Master Ara catches us?”

“Don't worry, Cesra. No one is going to find us here – especially Master Ara. You're home, and safe, and free, and I'm going to take care of you and find you the best family in the world to live with. How does that sound to you?”

“A... family? A real family? You mean it?” That one simple word completely transformed Cesra. The fear melted from his face, his eyes lost their look of blank despair, and he smiled for the very first time. As Gareth looked down at the joyous disbelief lighting up the younger boy's face, he decided that his entire life had been made for this moment – the good and the bad. Every hardship had been worth it, and he would do it all over again, he wouldn't change a thing, just for the pleasure of seeing that look on Cesra's face. And no matter what happened to him now, he would be able to endure any hardship and difficulty, he would even return willingly to slavery, because he would forever be able to gain strength and comfort from the knowledge that there was a child who had never known freedom or happiness that was now living a life of both because of him.

Gareth let everything he had just told Cesra sink in as he fed the younger boy some fruit, nuts, and dried meat and gave him plenty of water to drink. When he saw pain returning to the young boy's face, overtaking his newfound happiness, Gareth told him to rest, then got up and went over to Kastor, who was sitting near the fire and trying very hard to act like he hadn't just been watching Gareth with Cesra.

“How's he doing?” Kastor asked before Gareth could say anything.

“I think the painkillers Master Ara gave him last night are wearing off. Do you have any medicine on you?”

Kastor frowned. “I didn't even think about that,” he said with a growl of self-recrimination. “Tara has the first-aid kit, as usual. She should be here soon, though. Do you think he'll be able to last that long?”

“Of course, sir. I don't think it's as bad as all that yet. I just want to make sure he gets some more painkillers before we travel any further. This trip will be hard enough on him as it is.”

“No one mentioned where he was from,” Kastor said. “Does he have a family to go home to?”

“Well... yes and no,” Gareth said. “Cesra was born a slave, sir. He's never known freedom, or his family, and I doubt there's even any way of finding out who his parents were. But he does have a home to go to, sir. Before we leave to set out on our way home, I'm going to send him to live with my folks. I'll tell Tara how to find them; I'm sure they'll take him in. He's going to need to learn how to be free, and here in the forest, where there are no slaves, is the only place that's ever going to be possible.”

Kastor nodded and a blank, closed look momentarily came over his face, but then he brightened again. “That sounds like a very noble gesture, Gareth.” He jumped to his feet. “Now, I know I promised you the whole story of what happened while you were... away, but there's something I want to show you first. John and Evan will look after everyone down here for a while.”

Gareth felt a twinge of frustration at Kastor's continued insistence on keeping him in the dark, but he wasn't about to risk ruining Kastor's good mood by protesting, so he simply nodded and followed his young master up the nearest tree. He was quite impressed by Kastor's increased confidence and self-sufficiency, especially when navigating through the forest. He was even having trouble keeping up with Kastor as they headed back along the branches in the direction of the border, though he suspected that Kastor's obvious excitement was fueling him more than anything else. His entire body radiated anticipation and he was constantly running ahead, realizing that he was leaving Gareth in the dust, then calling, “Come on; hurry up; it's not far,” and bouncing up and down on his toes as he waited for Gareth to catch up.

Finally, though, they reached a tree on the edge of the border. Remembering the last time he had come out this far, Gareth was reluctant to go any further, but Kastor coaxed him around the tree's trunk to the branch on the far side. “It's just over there. Have a look; it'll explain everything.” His curiosity piqued, Gareth barely noticed that Kastor hadn't actually given him an order, but he obeyed just the same and walked around the tree's trunk to the far side, to the branch that led to nothing but open sky.

Not wanting to look out, Gareth focused first on the trunk of the tree, and he immediately saw what Kastor had wanted him to see. A handmade hunting knife was buried hilt-deep into the tree's trunk at the level of his eyes. Gareth's heart began to beat faster as he studied the elegantly carved pattern of leaves and vines that encircled the knife's wooden hilt. The leaves were elm leaves. He would know that knife anywhere, even though he had never expected to see it again.

As his hand reached out involuntarily to grab the familiar blade, Gareth finally saw what the knife was marking. There were words carved into the trunk of the tree just above the knife. Two simple lines: “In loving memory of our son, Gareth: Lost to the world, but never forgotten.” Gareth felt his eyes and his heart burn with sudden realization: This was the place where he had been captured by the slavers. His parents and the other villagers must have come looking for him, found his bag sitting in the hollow of this tree, and realized that he had been taken by the nomads. His village couldn't be that far away, then. Did Kastor realize what this meant? Why had he wanted Gareth to see it, then? There was no going home for him – he had accepted that – so why did everyone else insist on tormenting him with temptation? Furious, frustrated, and exhausted, Gareth turned away from the memorial carved into the tree, blinking back tears as he tried to keep memories of that day five years ago when he had been stolen away from his home from filling his mind. That was when he realized that he was not alone.

There was a man sitting on the end of the branch Gareth was standing on, looking out over the brown grassland in front of him. He had not known that anyone else was on this branch either, but at Gareth's surprised intake of breath, he glanced over his shoulder, then got to his feet. “Who's ther...” he started to ask, then trailed off as Gareth stumbled back against the tree's trunk in shock. He must have recognized Gareth, because Gareth had definitely recognized him. He was a little older, his hair a little shorter, but those eyes... they were the same eyes, shining out of the same face that Gareth had seen in his dreams every night for the past five years.

“Da?”

They had both been frozen to the spot, but that one simple question galvanized Gareth's father into action. “Gareth?” he asked as he came forward, his eyes studying Gareth intently. “Is it really you?”

Gareth wanted to reply. He wanted to laugh, to cry, to run to his father and be swept up in those big, strong arms and erase the last five years from time and memory. But as his father's eyes raked over him, he was suddenly very conscious of the fact that he was dressed in a ragged slave's uniform and that his hair was nothing more than short, uneven stubble. The bruises, cuts, and welts all over his face and body suddenly burned and ached acutely, the shackles on his wrists and ankles felt as if they weighed a hundred pounds, and the horrible, hated iron collar around his neck grew uncomfortably heavy and tight. He had easily recognized his father, who had changed little in the last five years, but his father was having a hard time recognizing his son inside the slave that stood before him.

As his father stopped, puzzled by Gareth's obvious reluctance to greet him, Gareth considered claiming a case of mistaken identity, or of darting around the tree and disappearing before his father could react. Having his family suspect or even know that he was a slave was one thing – that had always been the most logical conclusion for them to reach when he hadn't come home anyhow – but having them see him, having them know that he was someone's slave and was here in the forest but couldn't come home... he didn't think he could bear the pain that would cause them. He might be able to lessen that pain, but only if he acted now, before his father said another word...

All of a sudden, Kastor was beside him. “It's alright, Gareth,” he whispered softly in Gareth's ear, his smile audible in his voice again. “I didn't find him – that was Tara's doing – but you don't think I'd be so heartless as to take you away from your family like a common slaver, especially now that you brought my father back to me like you promised you would, do you? I suppose now's as good a time as any to tell you that you're free. Go on, Gareth. He's been waiting a long time for this moment, and no one deserves happiness more than you.” And before Gareth could even turn around and stammer out inarticulate thank-yous through a haze of dreamy disbelief, Kastor was gone, and there was nothing now to stop him from running to his father and leaping into his arms and being hugged and picked up and swung around like he was five years old, laughing and crying at the same time as his whole world was turned right-side-up once again. He was free and he had finally come home.