After the Work

We didn’t talk much after that.

Voss rode in front with Marlow beside him, the same as before. Every now and then one of them would say something, but I wasn’t really listening. My hands still felt sticky even though I had wiped them clean on my trousers twice.

The road was quiet. Too quiet again. I kept my eyes moving across the treeline out of habit, but my mind kept drifting back to the trees where I had left the boy. I wondered how far he had gotten by now. If he was smart, he wouldn’t stop running until he reached Westfall.

My breastplate pressed against my ribs every time the horse took a step. The dent had gotten worse over the last few weeks. I told myself I would fix it when we stopped for the night, but I knew I probably wouldn’t.

Voss glanced back at me once. He looked calmer now. Almost pleased.

“You did good back there,” he said.

I nodded. Didn’t say anything.

He turned forward again and kept riding.

The sun was low when we finally stopped for the night. I unsaddled my horse and checked the straps like I always did. Everything was in order. I sat down on a fallen log a little way from the fire and started working on the buckle that had been loose all day.

My knuckles were starting to ache.

I kept working on the buckle until it was tight again. Then I sat there with my hands resting on my knees and stared at the ground between my boots.

Just another day on the job.