No trace: Part Two of The Accidental Trilogy

Chapter Eleven

I am quite determined not to be dependent on anyone else in the near future. Living with that friendly, generous family, I felt like the proverbial wolf in sheep's clothing.

Now on my second sojourn into the veritable wilderness, I feel more at home in the forests. I may have been given a formal education, but I was slowly coming to terms with the art of survival.

That said, my night-time routine and accommodation had improved dramatically. And Andrea's, as I had constructed a proper shelter for him, which is easily dismantled and erected once more the following evening.

When the weather begins to turn for the worse, I change course and head for the nearest town to stay. No sense in pushing Andrea to his limits. I keep myself disguised in the town, I am a lone traveller who takes a room at the inn and a stall for my horse.

On my short visit, I busk, using a flute I had made myself. I keep the tunes cheerful during the day but at night, I let the pretence drop and they become haunting.

During the winter months, this is how I am able to stay in buildings and keep a steady stream of coins into my pocket.

I keep heading east and after passing through the low countries, as Louis called them, I enter Russia. I had heard stories about this place from Louis, and am immediately impressed. The people seem more solid, somehow. The nobility in France could have been knocked over by a simple breeze, these townsfolk could stand in a gale-force wind.

As always, I did not stay long, I employed a farrier and a seamstress both, to properly care for Andrea and to make my rough-hewn clothes somewhat more presentable. I was not a vain monster, but I know that if I look like a criminal or a vagabond, I will be treated like one.

But I am equally concerned as to be looking not too well off, so the seamstress that I hire costs half as much as the farrier.

A week later, I am reminded that I cannot avoid confrontation; three thieves surround me, whilst I am riding Andrea.

'Kindly dismount Madam,' the apparent leader addresses me, like the other two, he keeps his pistol trained on me, 'I don't want to -'

I grow quickly bored while he is speaking and throw the rock I had in my hand at his face and charge the other two while he is briefly incapacitated. Dismounting, he did ask so politely, I grab the two pistols and then the third.

'Now, I do so very much hope that these are loaded. I do hate to see a poor job.'

One of them pulls another and I kick it out of his hand. 'Before anyone wishes to have any bones broken, give up all weapons now.'

They comply, but I still move to render them unconscious, but then I see a dagger being aimed in my direction and I duck and pull the trigger and for good measure, use the other two pistols to shoot the other two.

After retrieving Andrea, who thankfully did not go far, I review the situation.

I am not far from the next town; these men might well have come from there and still be known. If they are found with fatal bullet wounds, would people care enough to investigate?

I prefer that question to remain unanswered. After collecting all the weapons - there were still more on their person, I decide that they will be given a proper burial.

Water with dirt creates mud.

Much more water with dirt creates a smooth surface. Not quite a lake, but not quite a puddle either.

And when an object is placed on top, it quickly sinks, no matter the weight.

That afternoon, I assess my newly acquired arsenal. Five pistols and one musket. Some powder, wadding and bullets, as well as two swords and three daggers.

I start by sharpening the blades; a couple of them are dangerously dull, on a newly wet stone.

For the pistols and musket, I keep them empty of charge, for now. Unless I am properly able to keep the powder dry, they are effectively useless against others that would attempt to rob or attack me.

In the next town, I purchase a few lengths of leather and other waterproof material. That night in my room at the inn, I fashion two side cases to carry the pistols in.

And sheaths for the knives. On my jacket inner side, I sew the sheaths onto, and practice pulling the daggers out from them. I am not as skilled as using those, however, and resolve to keep them in reserve.

Back in the forest, I begin practicing. I start with the daggers first, throwing them at a target, first trees, then that evening's meal, when I feel more confident in my abilities.

Slowly, the towns in Russia begin to peter out. I make enquiries at the inn and find I am very close to Mongolia.

I stop heading east and start to travel south, to China.

I am not quite an experienced traveller yet to cope with the desert and I loathe to take Andrea into an environment he would be unfamiliar with.

I do not linger, it is harder to blend in here, I keep travelling south, before turning west on my arrival in Burma.

While resting in southern India, I decide to stay for a while. I have been on the move now for almost two years, having more than thoroughly removed myself from Rosa's sight.

I should be safe.

As a citizen, I interacted with people, I learnt the language, but as a traveller, as I had become, I knew I would have to leave. I travelled north and then west - chartering a ship meant money - and arrived in Africa.

I had crossed the deserts, but considering how Andrea and I had subsisted, I now resolved to avoid them in the future.

I didn't stay in Africa long either, I was almost six months shy of becoming eighteen and an elder. I crossed the continent, burning any potentially dangerous creature that Jane close to Andrea or I. I was on my guard, more than ever.

Six weeks before my eighteenth birthday, I was on a ship bound for the newly independent United States of America. I had saved enough for a ship's passage.

I arrived in the city of Boston, a bustling place, both English and American, they might have declared independence, but I knew that England would not so easily surrender.

As I had anticipated and experienced before, a young woman travelling alone and with no one to meet her, would garner a lot of unwanted attention. And during wartime, very dangerous.

I kept Andrea and my weapons close as ever and remembered to breathe.