Briar Rose

by Jana Oliver

  Briar frowned. ‘It was a compliment,’ she insisted. ‘You’re nice and kind and you don’t scare me, not like some of these people,’ she said, her eyes trailing across the room. Three men in particular made her very uncomfortable. They’d been staring at her since she and Ruric had entered the inn.

  Her companion’s eyes followed hers. ‘Ah, yes,’ he said, his voice quieter now. ‘Your instincts are good.’ He pushed back from the table. ‘I think it is time we retired, cousin. I have secured us a room for the night.’

  He didn’t wait for her reply, but was already on his way to collect a candle from the innkeeper. When he motioned for her to head upstairs, Briar threaded her way through the crowded room, embarrassed at the ribald comments that came her way. Even the tavern wench gave her a knowing wink.

  Knowing it was best to keep up the ruse, Briar headed up the rough-hewn steps, muttering under her breath. Ruric held back, taking his time to light the taper and she realized he was listening to the men in the corner, the three that had spooked her. When he finally joined her at the top of the stairs, his face was stern.

  ‘Are they following us?’ she asked, worried.

  ‘Not yet. It could be said that you’re too pretty for your own good.’

  Briar doubted that. She had dirt on her face, her clothes had horse crap on them and she needed a bath and deodorant, both of which seemed to be lacking in this village.

  He led her down the hallways to a dinky room, all of about eight by eight feet, if that. There was no bed, and it was only after Ruric had placed the candle in a holder that Briar saw the two rolled pallets in a corner. Surely he didn’t think they were going to share this tiny bit of real estate? Sleep so close together?

  Ruric must have seen the concern on her face. ‘I’ll sleep by the door,’ he said. He pushed open the shutters that covered what served as a window, and leaned out to study the view. A moth took immediate advantage, fluttering in to check out the candle.

  As she watched, Ruric laid out one of the straw-filled mattresses for her and then added a blanket. The other pallet went in front of the door. As soon as he had arranged it the way he liked, he stretched out. Propping his head on a palm, he watched her inspect the situation.

  This is cosy. Her parents hadn’t let her double date until she was fifteen and now here she was all alone with a guy only a couple of years older than her. One who admitted to wenching and being a black sheep. If they had known, her folks would be flipping out right now.

  Briar turned back to the ‘bed’ and prodded the mattress with a toe, sure it was probably full of fleas and lice and other bitey things. She looked back over at Ruric and found he was suppressing a smile.

  ‘Not like in your village?’ he asked innocently.

  ‘No. We sleep up off the ground and the mattresses are . . . thicker.’ Way thicker.

  Briar eased herself to the floor and sat on the pallet. It wasn’t so bad, sort of like a lumpy sleeping bag. It was then she realized that he’d given her the thicker one.

  Their eyes met.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘For everything.’

  ‘I must admit that I wish I wasn’t so honourable. However, that is not the case.’

  He does care for me. That made her feel good. ‘Why are you doing this? You didn’t have to help me.’

  ‘I would like to think that if my sister were on her own, someone would take care of her without trying to take advantage.’

  That was cool. ‘What’s your sister like?’

  The smile finally bloomed. ‘Devilish. Sofa climbs trees and dislikes the gowns my mother purchases for her. She wed this last spring and has settled down now, though her husband did remark that she is still rather wilful. I suspect her daughters will grow up much like her.’ His smile told Briar that he didn’t mind that at all.

  He’d made a big slip – poor people couldn’t afford to buy gowns for their daughters. They made everything by hand or bartered for it. It was clear that Ruric was of noble blood, maybe even a prince.

  The fortune teller was right. I did find him. But now what?

  Briar decided not to call him on his verbal slip, holding the secret close to her heart.

  ‘I climbed trees when I was younger, until I fell out of one,’ she said.’ My mother was always too protective of me. I didn’t get to do much.’

  ‘It could be said you’re making up for that now.’ He lay down, staring up at the ceiling as the candle cast subtle lines of light and shadow on the side of his face. ‘Tomorrow I will buy black dye so we may make your hair less golden.’

  Briar opened her mouth to protest, but then closed it. He was right – she had to hide her hair to remain alive, at least in the short term.

  In the semi-darkness, she touched the charms on the bracelet one by one, thinking of her friends and her home and how much she missed them. Of Joshua and the courage it had taken for him to defy his family.

  ‘You’re very quiet,’ Ruric observed.

  ‘I was thinking of my friends back in Bliss.’

  ‘And the young lad as well?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I did not see love written upon your face when you speak of him. Why is that?’

  ‘He’s . . . not my type.’

  ‘What sort of man do you seek?’ Ruric asked.

  ‘A prince,’ she said, before she could stop herself.

  He looked at her long and hard, his expression unreadable.

  ‘I hope you will find what you seek.’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Joshua stared at the bedroom ceiling, feeling the minutes slip away. What if he died inside the curse and his parents found him all stiff and cold in his bed? His mother would lose her mind after being so convinced he was safe now. And when she learned that he’d willingly put himself in danger to help Briar . . .

  Joshua’s cellphone vibrated and he jumped in surprise.

  It was Reena. ‘You freaking yet?’ she asked.

  ‘Totally.’

  ‘I’m going to start now.’

  ‘OK. Use that dude’s power for all it’s worth.’

  ‘I will, Josh. Thanks . . . for everything. See you soon.’ She hung up.

  Joshua put the phone on the nightstand on top of the lengthy note he’d written to his parents. If something happened to him, he wanted them to understand why he’d had to do this. Why Briar’s curse was his burden.

  With a tortured sigh, Joshua lay back and resumed his study of the ceiling. For a time nothing much happened except that an owl hooted outside his window, which he didn’t think was a great omen. Then his mind began to fill with an eerie darkness and that same sting of magic he’d felt at the crossroads. It slithered across his body, encasing him like an invisible shroud.

  He swore he could smell the pungent scent of herbs and hear Reena’s rich voice along with the pounding of drums. ‘Come on, you can do it,’ he said. ‘Take us to Briar.’ Then he’d make it right. Even if she hates me for the rest of my life.

  The sound of the door creaking open roused Briar from a troubled sleep. She rolled over, her back tender from the hard floor. Ruric stood in the hallway, and in the dim light of the candle she saw him carefully shift his feet so as not to create any noise on the loose boards.

  She sat up. ‘What’s wrong?’ she whispered.

  He returned, closing the door behind him. ‘We have to go. The men are planning to pay us a visit.’

  ‘But you can take them, right?’

  ‘I’m a trained fighter, but three large ruffians in a very small room might prove more than I can handle, if I’m also trying to protect you.’

  ‘Won’t the innkeeper help us?’ she asked, rising to her feet.

  ‘No. He will remain blind as long as a few coins are offered and none of his property is damaged.’

  He stuffed his mattress in the corner, as it had been when they arrived. He indicated she should do the same and Briar hurried to comply.

  There was the sound of voices and boots on th
e stairs.

  There was nowhere to hide. ‘Oh, God. What do we do?’ she asked.

  ‘We become invisible,’ was the reply. Ruric pointed towards the window. ‘I’ll go first, then you follow me.’

  He vanished through the opening and then his hand appeared. ‘Come on. There is little time.’

  Briar peered out and down, queasy at the sheer drop off the end of the wooden planked roof.

  He has to be kidding.

  Ruric waved his hand again, more urgently this time. ‘I vow I will not let you fall, but you must hurry.’

  The drunken men were in the hallway now. They were coming for her.

  Briar hefted up her skirts and climbed out of the window. The moment she was out, Ruric’s arm carefully guided her along the slippery roof.

  ‘Don’t look down,’ he said.

  ‘Wasn’t planning to,’ she murmured back.

  Once he was certain she was settled into a niche by the stone chimney, he skittered back like a monkey and closed the shutters. Briar continued to quake in fear – she was sure she’d lose her balance and hit the ground, cracking her skull open. When Ruric’s muscled arm went round her again, she huddled against him, shivering in fright. His cloak settled around them, fending off the night wind.

  ‘Stay very quiet,’ he whispered.

  The noises came quickly now – the door being forced open, coarse laughter, then the swearing began. Boots stomped around as the shutters were thrown open.

  ‘Curse that rat. Where has he taken the wench?’ one said.

  There were more colourful oaths, some of which were quite crude. In time – after loudly debating the merits of accosting someone else, especially one who might be better armed – the trio retreated downstairs, their dark intentions thwarted.

  Briar sighed in relief. That had been too close, even with Ruric there to help her.

  In the moonlight she could see her companion’s pleased smile.

  ‘You outwitted them. You’re really smart, you know that?’

  ‘That remains to be seen. I have learned much about those kinds of men over the years. I used to hunt them and bring them to the gallows for their crimes.’

  Which is why there is that hard place in your heart. Apparently there was more to Ruric than just being a noble. When she started to speak again, he held up his hand for silence.

  There were shouts on the street now, followed by deep-throated snarls. A piteous scream pierced the air and then there was silence.

  ‘The wolves?’ she whispered.

  ‘Yes. Those men were not from the village, so they went out after curfew to try to find us.’

  ‘They’re . . . dead, then?’

  ‘That or they have been captured and taken to the castle.’

  Briar’s shivering returned, despite the warmth of Ruric’s cloak and he hugged her closer.

  ‘You are safe now. Do not worry.’

  ‘I know, it’s just so different to my home.’

  ‘Then it was fortunate that I found you running from the wolves last night, was it not?’ he said simply.

  Or fate.

  With great caution, Ruric helped her across the roof and back into the room. The pallets were tossed around and so he moved them back into their original positions.

  ‘I will leave the candle unlit. I have no wish to let the innkeeper know we’re still here. As it’s after curfew, he will not rent the room to anyone else.’

  Briar would never know what made her tug her own pallet closer to his, but she did. Not touching, but within a foot of him. It was her way of saying she had placed her complete faith in man she barely knew.

  Ruric solemnly observed her actions. ‘I am honoured by your trust,’ he said. He rolled on his side, his face towards the door, ever on guard.

  At one time, she would have thought his behaviour so very noble, just what a prince should do for a princess: slay the dragon, rescue her from the tower. But this was Ruric, someone she truly cared about, not some abstract guy in a fairy tale. He’d already shown that he would do anything to protect her, even risk execution or being changed into one of those metal monsters.

  Maybe you are my prince, but I can’t be your princess. I have no kingdom for you.

  All she had to offer him was a gruesome death.

  The dark tunnel gradually gave way to sunlight. As Joshua clawed his way back to consciousness, his skin prickled as if impaled by scores of needles. He shook himself awake, trying to throw off the magic, which caused his stomach to roil.

  When he finally opened his eyes, he found he was lying underneath a tree, an old oak whose massive branches shielded him from the sun. He peered up at it, puzzled. It seemed familiar in some way, like the one under which he and Briar had sheltered after the re-enactment.

  The thought of her made him struggle harder to clear the cobwebs.

  Taking stock of his surroundings, he was amused to discover cows and sheep grazing nearby. A young woman sat on a low stool, milking a nanny goat, dressed as if she’d just stepped out of the Middle Ages.

  Did it work? He’d have to assume it had. But why this pastoral scene?

  When Joshua pulled himself to his feet, the surprises kept piling on. His own clothes had changed, now being a pair of dirty leather boots, dun-coloured breeches, a beige linen shirt and a dark-brown leather jerkin, belted at the waist. A scabbard was attached to the belt, and he pulled the knife free to examine it. Satisfied it was for real, he re-sheathed it.

  ‘Josh?’

  He turned to find Reena hurrying across the field towards him. Her curly hair was down on her shoulders, and she was in a peasant dress, a homespun cloak floating behind her. Slung over a shoulder was her canvas bag.

  As she grew near, he beamed. ‘It worked!’ He picked her up and spun her round as if she weighed nothing.

  ‘OK. Good,’ she said, taken aback at his enthusiasm. ‘Colour me surprised.’ She eyed his garments. ‘Hey, look at you. It’s good you’re my bud, or I’d be all over you in a flash. You’re smoking, dude.’

  He laughed. That was one of the reasons Reena had become a good friend – she had a great sense of humour even when things were scary.

  They turned as one towards the town in the distance. ‘Oh look. It’s got a castle. Go figure,’ he said.

  ‘Makes sense. I mean, where else would Briar end up but in a fairy tale?’

  ‘Yeah, but which one?’ he asked.

  ‘Hopefully one that isn’t lethal,’ Reena replied.

  ‘There are very few of those. The Dark Rider said that this is a nightmare, more than a dream.’

  ‘Yeah, I remember.’

  When they approached the milkmaid, she stared up at them. Or, more accurately, stared at Reena.

  ‘Ah, good day to you. We’re looking for a friend of ours. A girl named Briar,’ Joshua said.

  ‘Ah, her,’ the woman said. ‘She’s at the stable.’

  ‘Thank you, good . . . lady.’ They hustled on before she could ask more questions.

  As the pair drew closer to the town, Reena slowed her pace, thoughtful.

  ‘The stable doesn’t sound like Briar’s kind of place. Knowing our girl, she’s inside the castle trying on fancy princess dresses and glass slippers. Probably hitting on a prince.’

  ‘She better not be,’ Joshua replied tersely. Especially not the hitting on a prince part. ‘Let’s just find out where the stable is and get Briar out of here. I don’t like the feel of this place.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s going to be that easy,’ Reena cautioned. ‘The curse brought her here for a reason. We need to know what’s going on before we start stirring things up, or we might make it worse.’

  Joshua thought that through. ‘What if she doesn’t want to leave? She might not realize it’s a dream.’

  ‘Don’t go there. No need to feed the curse with anything it can twist.’

  He stared at his companion. ‘You make it sound as if it’s listening to us,’ he said.

  ‘Magic isn
’t static, Josh. It feeds on what you give it.’ Reena studied the village around them. ‘We’re in the middle of a giant-assed spell and we don’t want it to get mad at us.’

  ‘You serious?’ he said, hoping he’d misunderstood.

  ‘Totally. The curse didn’t plan on us showing up, so there’s no telling how it’s going to react. We need to be very careful.’

  Joshua’s good mood flagged. He’d figured it’d be a quick in-and-out rescue mission, snag up Briar and go home. Not a covert action with a hidden enemy that had its own vicious agenda.

  So what else can go wrong?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The next morning the innkeeper gaped at them as Briar and Ruric descended the stairs into the tavern. He gave them a curt nod and went back to counting his coins, though she could tell he was flustered. That unease proved prophetic when Ruric strode to the counter. He leaned over, then deftly sorted out four copper coins and dropped them in his pouch.

  ‘What are you doing? That is my money!’ the innkeeper protested.

  A thick-bladed knife rammed down into the wood only a few inches from the man’s hand. He jerked back in surprise.

  ‘As I see it,’ Ruric began, his voice full with menace, ‘you should be pleased I am only reclaiming the payment for the room. You told those roughs precisely where to find us and that placed my cousin in mortal danger. I should cut your throat for such perfidy.’

  ‘I had no choice,’ the man said. ‘The reeve . . .’ His ruddy complexion paled.

  ‘Go on.’

  The innkeeper drew a heavy breath. ‘The reeve urged them to pay you a visit. If I had refused, those men would have torn my inn apart.’

  ‘Would you have wished the same if it had been your daughter?’

  The man mumbled in the negative.

  ‘You always have a choice, innkeeper,’ Ruric replied. ‘Mind that you make the proper ones in future.’

  The man huffed in disgust. ‘You are barred from my inn from this day forward.’

  Ruric stepped back, sheathing his knife as he did so. ‘As you wish, though I shall miss your most excellent stew. Good day, innkeeper. Do mark my warning.’