A BROKEN STICK

With the creature gone, and after they'd cleared and buried the remains of the campsite's previous occupants, the three settled down beside the burning tree. Fred leaned on his side close by the fire with his head on a piece of wood he used as a pillow. His shirt was pulled off and Ned and Pat were looking at his back. The skin was covered in flesh wounds caused by the grass and dirt, and deep gashes from a few loose rocks. Ned reached out and tapped on one of the gashes that was closed up with blood. Fred flinched.

"Did that hurt?" Ned asked him.

"Just a little," Fred replied through gritted teeth.

Pat shook her head. "This is what you deserve for getting curious again," she commented. "At this rate your curiosity is going to get us killed."

Fred whipped his head around and glared at her over his shoulder. "I was just looking around like you two and-"

Ned softly put a hand on Fred's shoulder. "Wait a moment. His curiosity saved us here, otherwise the creature may have waited for nightfall and attacked us in our sleep." He nodded at the disturbed dirt where they'd buried what they found of the campsite's previous occupants. "That's probably what happened to them."

Fred relaxed and put his head back down; Pat turned away. The boy sighed. "So how bad is it back there?" he asked his two companions.

"Time will heal them, but until then you will be very uncomfortable," Ned replied.

Fred shifted his weight and winced when his wounds protested. "Great..." he mumbled.

Ned opened up his cloak and pulled out a few bags; Pat sniffed the air. "Herbs?" she guessed, and Ned nodded. "Did you have a specific medicine in mind?"

"Just one to comfort him and keep the sickness from his wounds," Ned told her.

Pat opened her mouth, shut it, and then opened it again. "Did you want me to do it?"

Ned turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "Are you sure? He deserves a gentle hand."

"I'm pretty sure I can handle that," she assured him.

Fred heard their conversation and looked back at them. "What? What's going on?"

Ned handed the bags to Pat and stood up; there was a mischievous smile on his face. "I leave you to your nurse, Fred."

"Nurse?" Fred was alarmed and glanced over to Pat; she may have saved him, but he didn't trust her to gently touch his wounds. "Why can't you do it?"

Pat scowled and crossed her arms. "What's wrong with me?" she countered.

"Well, it's just, I don't know, you hate me," Fred pointed out.

Pat rolled her eyes and set to work with the two bags of herbs. "That doesn't make me bad at medicine," she replied.

Ned toddled off to tend to the fire, and left the pair to their bickering. Seeing he had no choice but to agree to her as his doctor, Fred turned away in a huff. Pat mixed the ingredients into a paste and dipped her finger into the medicine. She took a glop of the stuff and softly applied it to the wounds. Even with her careful hands Fred flinched away from the pain. "It's okay. This won't take long," she soothed.

"I feel like I've been raked over by a rake..." Fred muttered.

"Have you ever been hit by a rake like that?" she asked him.

Fred shrugged; bad move. His body pulsed with pain and he ground his teeth together. "A couple of times, when some of the other men had too much alcohol."

Pat frowned and paused with her finger in the bowl of paste. "That's horrible. Didn't you ever try to tell your lord?"

"You saw my lord, he's not exactly a caring guy," Fred replied. "So I was told to solve my own problems."

"And you never thought of leaving that place, even to escape such treatment?"

Fred sighed; the paste calmed his wounds and he was finally able to relax his body. "You can't leave places like those. You're not allowed to leave without permission, and if they catch you they drag you back like he tried at the town," he told her. "Then you're given lashings and extra work. I've seen it. They whip you until your back is soaked with blood and your hanging there by your wrists, too weak to stand. The knights made big men weep like babies."

Pat shuddered at such a picture; it must have made a stinging mark on Fred's memory. "So you've really never been from that estate? Not even with your lord's permission?" she wondered.

"Never." Fred shifted and was glad when the gashes didn't freeze up his body with pain. He glanced over his shoulder. "But you've been to a lot of places, haven't you? At least, you seem to know your way around people, and dealing with that monster."

Pat smiled and shook her head. "I've never been very far from my home, either. I just read a lot of books so I know what's out here."

Fred blinked. "Really?"

"Really," she replied.

"Oh." He looked to Ned in the distance. "So how long have you been with him?"

Pat put the remaining paste on his wounds and wiped her finger on her pants. "Only a few weeks. He's taking me to-well, to where I need to go."

"So he's not your grandpa or anything?" Fred asked her.

Pat cringed and furiously shook her head. "No way. He's just a guard, someone to protect me."

"Protect you? Are you in some sort of danger?"

Pat laughed. "I will be if you keep finding trouble for us. If you get any better at it you're going to lead us right into-well, into something worse."

Fred frowned. "Is there something wrong with where you two are going?"

The girl stood up and tossed his raggedy shirt onto him. "No, but don't ask any more questions so I don't have to lie."

Pat walked off to help with dinner, leaving Fred very ill at ease. He wondered what sort of a mess he'd been dragged into, and how to get out of it. There was Ned's suggestion about going their separate ways at the next town. If his companions remained secretive then he'd take up that offer and leave them. The night passed without incident and day broke to find Fred in much better condition. He received another plaster cast of paste, but he had a problem with his lack of shirt. That was solved by a show of kindness from Pat.

"Here, you can have my cloak," she offered, and tossed the clothing to him.

He barely caught it because his eyes were on her; this was the first full view of her body he'd seen. The armor he'd seen over her chest and leggings also covered her forearms, and at her waist on the opposite side of her sword was a pair of leather gauntlets. He saw a hint of chain metal beneath her breast plate, and there was a hood in the back made of the same metal.

Pat glared at his intense gaze. "What? Have you never seen a girl dressed as this?" Fred didn't remove his eyes from her, but he shook his head. Pat grabbed the remains of his shirt and pulled them over herself. The front and her arms were covered, though the back had the holes from his dragging. The spell was broken; Fred was released from his staring.

"Let's be off, children," Ned called out to the two.

They returned to the road and set off to their next destination. Ned fell behind to Fred and looked the boy over. "If you expect to protect this damsel then you're going to need a weapon," Ned told him.

The old man's words jolted Fred from his ogling of her back. "Protect? Why am I protecting her?" He was slightly panicked by the suggestion; this pair ran into trouble at every turn and the villains were getting worse.

"Think of it as a trade for our feeding you until we reach the next town," Ned replied.

Fred gestured to Pat, who glanced back suspiciously at the quiet pair. "She has a sword, she can handle herself,. I'm just a serf. The worst I've had to deal with are some angry gophers," he protested.

Ned ignored the boy and dug into his cloak. He pulled out a stick about two feet long. The top six inches were broken off and hung only by a thread of the leather wrapped around the entire pole. Ned admired the stick with a strange, almost sad look in his eyes before he held it out in front of Fred. "I think this will work perfectly for you."

Fred looked at the old man like he'd gone senile. "A stick? You expect me to protect somebody with a stick?"

"A broken stick," Ned corrected him. He pushed the stick against Fred's chest and let go; the boy instinctively grabbed it before it dropped to the ground. "And mind you keep good care of that. It belonged to an old friend of mine and I wouldn't want anything to happen to it."

"Then why did you give it to me to fight with?" Fred asked him in panic.

"Because you're supposed to keep care of it when you do fight with it," Ned scolded the boy.

"Maybe you should keep it," Fred insisted. He held it out for Ned to take, but the old man pushed it back against Fred's chest. The boy pushed against him. "She doesn't need anyone else to protect her when you're around," he pointed out.

Ned frowned and leaned in toward him. "But what if I'm not around, hmm? What then? Could she handle herself alone? Could you handle watching her fight alone with nothing to help her-"

"-except a broken stick," Fred replied. He didn't want to do it, but he tucked the broken stick into his belt; he wasn't going to win this argument.

Ned smiled and patted the boy on the back. "That's the way! You'll make a fine guard for-"

"What are you two talking about?" Pat spoke up. She stopped ahead of them and turned with her arms folded across her chest; her foot tapped the ground and she glared at the pair.

The smile slipped from Ned's face and he quickly shook his head. "Nothing, nothing at all."

Pat narrowed her eyes. "Uh-huh, like I'm going to believe that. Your faces look guilty of something."

"Perhaps it's just the sun." Ned glanced up at the sky and squinted into the day star. "Very bright today, isn't it, Fred?" When the boy didn't reply, Ned nudged him with his shoulder.

"Oh? Yeah, real bright." Fred didn't want to be in this conversation; heck, he didn't want to be on this road with this strange pair. The boy promised himself that when he left them at the next town, he'd be sure to give back the stick.

"But what are we doing dawdling along like this?" Ned asked them. He hurried forward past Pat with his cloak billowing behind him. "We have places to be and people to see. Come, children, let's be off!" Fred hurried after the old man, and when he passed Pat she glanced down at his waist. He took hold of the stick, gave her a sheepish smile and sped up. When he looked back she followed, but with her suspicions written all over her face.

The journey was a continuation of yesterday's walk. They passed by small and large houses, small villages and through fields of trees and grass. Beyond the trees and grass could be seen hills, and beyond them lay snow-capped mountains with their stony sides. Fred wondered how large the world was with such far afield landscape. He was also curious when they'd reach the next town; his plan was still to separate himself from the pair, but he hadn't thought about it the entire day. Maybe he was getting used to their strangeness.

Fred ventured to ask about the distance when they stopped for camp. "How much farther until we reach the next town?" His feet felt like he'd walked dozens of miles; he didn't even know where he lived anymore.

Ned furrowed his brow and glanced up at the sky. The skyline had a heavier supply of trees; the farther they went the more forested the area became. "I would say another two days of travel should get us to Tramadore."

Pat groaned and sat herself down on a nearby log. She stretched out her stiff legs and winced when her feet cracked. "That far?" she complained.

"That far," Ned assured her.

"Two days..." Fred murmured.

Ned seated himself on a rock and smiled at the boy. "Were you expecting to be rid of us so soon?" he teased Fred.

Pat furrowed her face. "Rid of us? Where's he going?"

Fred held up his hands in front of himself. "No, well, it's just, maybe?" he squeaked out.

The girl glanced between the two men. "What's going on? I thought you bought this boy for a better reason than to take him for a short trip."

"I bought him in bad faith, and can't very well force him to stay with us," Ned pointed out.

"Then you should have left him where you found him. It would have meant a lot less trouble for us," she snapped.

Ned raised an eyebrow at her outburst, and she turned away from his inquisitive gaze. "Yes, well, what's done is done and we should try to make the best of it." He stood up and glanced around. "I'll go look for some wood, and you two try not to kill each other while you make a ring for the fire," he teased.

Ned toddled off into a clump of trees, and the pair got started on the fire pit. They worked silently while they gathered the stones, but when they went to arrange them Pat glanced at Ned's waist. She nodded at the stick. "Did Ned give you that?"

Fred followed her gaze and nodded. "Yeah. He said it'd be useful."

Pat wrinkled her nose. "It looks kind of broken." She held out her hand. "Let me see it." Fred stopped his arranging of the rocks and handed the stick over to her. She examined the ends, the wood, and even the thin strip of leather wrapped around the entire thing; then she handed it back. "Looks strong enough to beat a chicken. Is he expecting us to run into some fowl trouble?"

Fred shrugged and put the stick back into his belt. "I don't know. He said it'd help if he wasn't around and trouble came up."

"Help? Help how?" she asked him.

Fred shook his head. "I don't know, he just said it'd be useful in protecting-" The boy winced and slammed his mouth shut.

Pat wouldn't let him off that easily. "Protecting what?" When he didn't reply she grabbed his wrist and yanked him over the ring of rocks to her. "Protecting what?"

Fred cringed. "You."

The girl frowned, but released him. Fred pulled away and rubbed his wrist; she had enough strength in that hand as two men. "Me?" she asked him, and he nodded. Pat looked the boy up and down. "You're supposed to protect me?"

"That's just what Ned said, I didn't say it," Fred defended himself.

Pat shook her head and went back to stacking stones. "Just...just forget about it. Doesn't matter, anyway. You're leaving us in a few days, right?"

Fred wanted to ask what didn't matter, but he didn't dare. "Yeah, I guess I am." The joy he expected at saying those words didn't arise. Instead, the boy found himself wondering if he'd be forced from the group.

Fred shook off the feeling in his stomach and went back to work. By the time Ned returned with an armload of firewood the circle was done. He admired the work and smiled at the pair. "You two work very well together when you're not arguing." Fred wished Pat wasn't so good at multi-tasking, then at least he'd only have to deal with working with her or arguing.

The companions settled down for the night. Fred, feeling the odd man out and with new paste attached to his back, went to bed first, but he couldn't sleep. He lay there for an hour with thoughts of Ned's gift to him and Pat's anger at his being made her temporary protector. His insomnia rewarded him when he heard Pat speak to Ned in a hushed tone. "You really made that boy a protector for me?" she asked the old man.

"Maybe," was the mischievous reply.

"Pat's voice wasn't filled with such humor; she was mad. "Do you think this is some sort of a joke? That we can pick up a bunch of farm boys and use them as human shields to protect me? Because that's what they're going to be, meat shields. That boy there doesn't know the first thing about fighting, so he's going to die if we run into some real trouble."

Fred heard a stick play in the fire and cracked open his eyes. Ned had the fire stick in his hand, and the old man stared at the flames and contemplated her statement. "So you think he'll die?" he asked the girl.

"How can he live, especially if Lord Canaver manages to find us?" Pat asked him. Fred was intrigued by this new name; he'd never heard of it before, but from the tremble in Pat's voice he guessed the fellow was someone to fear. Pat sighed and shook her head. "You know I speak the truth, Sir Ned. The boy can't stay with us, even if he chooses to. When we come to the next town, he must go."

Ned chuckled and set the fire stick aside. He took his own staff in hand and stood. His eyes looked down on the girl with a smile. "I told you a title doesn't suit me, and you're always to call me Ned," he softly scolded.

Pat didn't flinched from his gaze. "I'm sorry, Ned, but my argument for the boy still stands. He must go."

Ned pursed his lips together, closed his eyes and nodded. "Yes, perhaps you're right. He isn't trained to fight. Yes, we'll leave him at the next town." Ned moved around the fire and Fred stiffened when the old man passed close by him. Ned paused just beside the boy, and turned back to Pat. She had her eyes on the fire now, and her face showed years of worry premature for her age. "I suppose no amount of proof can change your mind?"

Pat sighed and glanced up at the old man. "Only if a miracle happens and he grows a pair."

Ned smiled and Fred felt the tip of the man's staff softly nudge him in the side. "A lot can happen in a day's time," Ned pointed out.

"I doubt that much could happen," Pat countered in a tone of finality.

Ned took the hint, and soon the pair retired for the night. Fred stayed awake for a while longer thinking over their conversation. It looked like he had no other choice; come the next town, he would leave them.