Someone to Watch Over Me

Chapter One

Many years later...

Seren squinted through the teeming rain, for all the good it did. It was too dark, the rain practically came sideways, and the noise did a perfect job at drowning out any other noises. Still, she hunkered down, rummaged in her sack as quietly as she could for whatever crumbs remained of the loaf of bread she'd bought two days earlier. There was a small chunk, wrapped in oilskin to keep the rain out, for all the good it did. It felt as if it had been raining for months, although in reality it had only been two days. At least, she thought it was two days. Time seemed to lose all meaning when it rained, as the sun didn't seem to rise, nor set. The days consisted of varying levels of gray. Gray and rain and little else.

The bread was almost stale. Still, she broke off a tiny piece and chewed slowly. She'd lost Oakenshield somewhere before Dunning, which lay to the west of Bree, and she'd been cursing herself ever since. It wouldn't have happened, had those clods from the pub left her alone. But no, they couldn't. They saw what they thought was a young boy and tried to start trouble with her. As she tried to extricate herself from the mess without spilling blood, Oakenshield finished his meal and took his leave. By the time she convinced the clods they did not want to fuss with her, he was gone.

Rain dripped from her nose, ran in rivulets along her temples, down her back. Her clothes were damp beneath her cloak. Her boots squelched with each step and the back of her left foot sported a painful blister from wet leather rubbing against wet hose rubbing on damp skin.

Finally, the rain abated enough that she heard footsteps, growing louder, and she carefully rewrapped the bread in its oilskin and tucked it away once more, then got to her feet with only a slight wince. Her foot stung, but she shoved that sting into the farthest recesses of her mind as she practically tiptoed through the foliage along the road, making as little noise as possible.

Through the dripping leaves, she spotted them, a group of men—six in total. She'd been following them since Dunning, since she overheard one of them mention Oakenshield. If they were looking for him as well, she'd follow them to the ends of Middle Earth if they led her to him. It was that simple.

The village of Bree lay a day's walk from where she stood right then. That was Oakenshield's destination, according to the barmaid in Hamden Downs, and Seren had no reason to doubt the woman. How she knew, Seren didn't ask, and when she caught sight of him on the bridge out of Hamden, it no longer mattered. Tracking him had been easy to a point. The hardest part had been making certain he didn't see her. Here, in the woods, staying out of sight was easy. But once they reached any town, she ran the risk of being exposed.

The mud pulled at her boots with each step, sucked at them, tried to tug them from her feet as if the woods themselves were trying to keep her from reaching her objective. She rolled her eyes and bit back an oath as she jerked her left foot clear from a particularly muddy patch.

She lost her balance and stumbled, throwing herself flat into the ground as the men stopped as one and looked about. Seren held her breath and could only hope they couldn't actually hear how loudly her heart beat. Each man did a slow rotation to peer about, but then the one at the head of pack clapped the one next to him and gestured up ahead.

"See him?'

"See him."

They began moving and she exhaled softly, getting to her feet without a sound, and hurried to keep them in her sight.

Then she saw him. Oakenshield was tall for a dwarf, but still not as tall as the men who inhabited these parts, and that made him easy to find even in foul weather. She picked her away around tree roots, bushes, vines, and who knew what else, and as she closed the space between her and him, she lifted her bow and carefully eased an arrow from the quiver on her back.