The Riders of Emari

"What do you mean she ran away?!"

"She escaped last night ma'am, I'm sorry...there's no trace of her anywhere."

Wild strands had escaped the bun on the aging woman's head, making her appear slightly deranged as she glared down at the young boy. Dark pools hung under her brown eyes, she looked as if she hadn't slept for months.

She ran the village orphanage, and she been trying to tell the others how crazy that child was, how she'd escape in the dead of night one of these days. Ha! They'd laughed in her face and told her to worry about the other children, but now she was gone. Good riddance. But no one had ever ran away from Martha Alstor, what this would do to her reputation!

The boy scurried off as she spit moodily on the dry soil beneath her, and she shouted curses as joyous laughing sounded from the house behind her. Children had lost their minds, now that one had made it possible to get away, she knew others would start acting up. They thought times had changed, filthy orphans. Needed to send them all off to work in the fields, ungrateful little things.

"She spends all day drinking, a child or two were bound to go missing," a young woman gossiped to her friend as they strolled past, carefully avoiding Martha's glare. "Crazy old woman, I tell you."

There was a town meeting that afternoon, and everyone attended but Ms. Alstor, no one seemed to notice much.

"I say we leave the brat for the wolves, serves her right," the reverend's wife scoffed, mumbled agreement floating through the air. "She was an omen to this town anyway, we're better off without her."

"But how would it make us look if some other village found her? The scandal," a plump woman disagreed, winning more votes on her favor. "Like we're some headquarters for run-aways, parents that don't know how to raise their children."

"She was an orphan! No one even knows what happened to her parents," someone shouted over the raising volume of the voices. "I heard the mother was a witch!"

There was a heated discussion about the girl's mystery background, and it took four tries with the gavel for the judge to gain order over the noise.

"We gathered here today to discuss what we are to do about this situation, not waste oxygen gossiping!" he said curtly, silence following. "Now that we've got that clear, there will be a vote. All men will raise their hands if they feel it nessicary to look for this little girl, all opposed will leave the courthouse and continue on with their day. Once that has been established, we will be enforcing security procedure around our village and it's orphanage so that this doesn't happen again, am I understood?"

Hands slowly rose up in the air at the same time as people, offended looking women being escourted out of the room by their put-down husbands and fiances. More than half stayed behind.

"Alright then, there will be three groups assembled. One will head east and search the mountains, one south to look near the next towns, and the rest will scatter west to search the seaside. If the girl is found, she is to be brought back for a strict punishment. If there is not a pulse in her little heart, she is to be buried where she is found. Children are not to leave the village unless accompanied by an adult, any jokers will report to me. Good day."

No one dared contradict the judge, it was rumored that he'd been around since the town was founded generations ago. The groups were formed shortly after, men kissing their families goodbye and their eldest sons happily following in their footsteps.
One might have thought they were setting out for some kind of hunting extravaganza. As the reverend's wife had so helpfully disclosed, wolves were rumored to be seen near the village, and the occasional rifle or pistol could be seen as the groups gathered in the town square to finalize their strategy.

"Does anyone really know anything about the girl's parents?" a portly man inquired, looking very wrongly dressed for the search in a suit and expensive looking shoes.

"Like Jameson said earlier, most think the mother was a witch. It's said they were on the run from wherever they came from, the father seemed to know the judge. They left the girl with Alstor and were never heard from again. No one's ever asked her name, and I think you'd agree that Alstor would rather brand all of them as abominations either way," a father chuckled, two of his sons trailing behind him as they headed east.

"Between you and me, I think the judge might be the girl's grandfather, why else would he send us out to look for her?" a boy whispered to his friend, leading the way south.

"Oh yeah Arnold, he seems like such a loving relative," the other said, rolling his eyes at the proposal.

"I mean it Jake," Arnold argued, looking over his shoulder to make sure they weren't overheard, gossiping like a pair of old women. "Haven't you ever noticed that the judge would give Old Alstor a stern talking if she ever hit the girl, my sisters give Ma sass everyday and he doesn't bat an eyelash when she tans their hides!"

"Even so, you heard the judge, he didn't sound so concerned at the fact that we might find the brat dead!" Jake exclaimed loudly, smacking his friend in the back of the head. "And how many times have you ever seen the girl out in public? You'd think a grandfather would want to embrace the only family he's got left, all his children went and left after they got married and had their own families."

"I tell you Ernie, it's a lost cause looking for her; even that Nelson boy couldn't find any tracks, and he's the one that took down the wolf tha's been killing off de sheep!" A man in his thirties said to his friend, people behind him nodding as they trekked through the corn fields.

"You're more than welcome to share that one with Thatcher, you heard the judge, he doesn't take no contradictions on his views. Nelson headed off with the east group, they'd need him more than we do anyway. You act as if the girl would be hard to notice Paul," Ernie said, shaking his balding head. "Only one in the village with that infernal white fair, I'm starting to think she was descended from a witch meself. You know as well as I do that it simply ain't natural!"

"I say we split up, she's either somewhere in the fields or hiding out on the beach," a minute gentleman suggested, the group stopping to look down at him. "No point in wasting the day as a group, and if she hears us barreling after her, what do you think she'd do? Run."

"Tiny's got a point," Ernie nodded, the man glaring at the nickname. People always making fun of his height..

The group was divided, and eventually only three men and a boy in his late teens were left to search the upcoming shores. They didn't know it then of course, but they were awfully close to finding their target. If only the poor girl weren't still asleep.

***

"By Joe, I think I found her!"

Why did that voice sound so familar? The girl was still drowsy, eyes remaining closed but her body slowly becoming alert. It sounded like footsteps on the rocky path above her, but how could that be possible? No one had wanted her in the village in the first place, why would they send someone to look for her?

"What are you on about Drake? We've been up and down this path for hours now, there's as much chance of you being right as Ernie growing his hair back," the boy's father disagreed, waving his hand impatiently. "I say we head ba-Blimey, it is her!"

"Send Drake to go fetch her, we'll go collect the group and report to the judge," the man beside Drake's father advised, already doubling back with the other member of their dissected group. Father and son shared a worried gaze for a moment before Drake silently agreed, his father watching him slide down the rocky slope and onto the sun-kissed sand before following the others.

The girl could hear him approach, and she very slowly turned her head toward him, eyes wide with fear. She knew him, she knew his face perfectly. He'd volunteered at the orphanage once when Ms. Alstor was ill, he'd tried to get her to talk. They all thought she was mute and stupid, but he'd thought differently. Somehow he scared her more than the drunken woman that she'd known all her life.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he said gently, walking slowly with his hands held up. She lie where she'd fallen asleep last night, finding it impossible to move, to get up and run. It was a trick, he'd drag her right back to the village and they'd hurt her. She knew it.

He came to a stop shortly after, sitting down beside her. His dark hair hung in his face, soft blue eyes looking her over to see that she at least wasn't injured. She shrunk back when he went to brush her hair behind an ear, letting out a yelp of terror.

She shivered, though the sun had long dried her wet clothes. She felt sick, arms clutching her stomach when it gave a painful lurch. Perhaps it was fear of the punishment that awaited her, one of the strictest that she'd ever get. Or maybe she'd gulped down a bit too much sea water last night when she'd surfaced, for now her throat felt dry and salted.

She couldn't even fight the next time he reached out to her, a muffled groan escaped her lips and she started to feel dizzy even though she remained quite stationary. He swiftly scooped her up in his arms, almost baffled at how light she was.

A blade was pressed to his throat before he could take another step.

"Unhand that girl right now or I will see you to Davy Jones' locker meself."