Alecia glared at her. As if Vard needed any reminders that her life had not been ideal for the past month!
“Rest and good food she shall have, Mistress, at least today. Is there a room where we can bed down? Once we’ve slept, we’ll break our fast and leave your home in peace. We have many miles to travel before our journey is at an end.”
Mistress Andra showed them to a small room at the back of the house. A fire crackled in the tiny fireplace and the bed appeared freshly made. “Sleep well,” she said and closed the door behind her.
Vard tucked Alecia up in bed with her sweet tea and handed her the end of bread that Hetty had provided. “From Hetty,” he said.
She placed the bread to her nose and breathed deeply. “She always did bake the best bread,” she said. “Is Hetty well? Did she have any news?”
“Quite well. Actually, I would say unchanged except she is less fearful of me than ever before. She says she has attracted no attention from your father.”
Alecia released breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “That’s good. I was worried for her. Father hates witches and he tried once already to kill Hetty. She was my first rescue.”
Vard smiled. “No wonder she loves you so.”
“She doesn’t love me, she tolerates my little whims. I would say fondness and obligation drive Hetty where I’m concerned.”
“How can you be so blind? Hetty loves you like a granddaughter.”
“But she’s always so cross with me.”
“She’d do anything for you. Even to laying down her life. As would I,” he added softly, caressing her face with the back of his fingers. “Hetty has told me of a wizard who might help me. He resides in Amitania. I intend to travel there and discover if the rumors are true.”
“Amitania,” Alecia whispered. “The lost city of Amitania . . .” A vision of dark dreams flashed into her mind. “My dream! This wizard could be the man in my dreams.” She shuddered. “If it is he, I don’t like your chances of help. I can never see his face, but his form fills me with dread.”
“It’s nothing to dwell on, dearest. It’s time to lay your head on the pillow and get some rest.” So saying, Vard removed his boots and lay down beside Alecia in the cramped bed. She turned on her side and pushed her back against his hard body, grateful for the warmth. He seemed content to snuggle there with her, and for that she was grateful. She wouldn’t couple with him again until she had confirmation of her pregnancy. If it became clear she was not with child, she could begin taking the tea, for she really didn’t wish to be burdened with a baby when her life was so uncertain.
Alecia closed her eyes and was soon asleep.
Vard awoke hours later with the sun sliding its way down the sky. It was only two hours until dark. He reached out and woke Alecia. She opened her eyes and sought his face and his heart lurched. She looked so tired and it was his fault. Never mind he had rescued her from an impossible situation, he should be able to provide for her. This was no way for anyone to live.
She reached out and cupped his face in her fingers. “Don’t fret, my love, I’m well.”
“Am I that transparent?” he said, frowning at her. It was not always so. If he was losing his protective mechanisms, they had no hope.
“You’re still fierce and aloof enough for two men, Vard. You forget I know you well and you’d be stone not to allow me past your defenses.”
A worm of unease squirmed in his gut. He wasn’t comfortable with his feelings for Alecia. He feared the changes taking place within his heart because they would leave him vulnerable. He couldn’t afford a weakness that would threaten Alecia’s life, but without her, his life would be mere existence. If he could learn his gift and control it, perhaps they had a chance.
He leant forward and kissed her on the lips, a light feather touch that left him wanting so much more. He pulled away and rose, drawing on his boots and gathering his weapons. “I’ll prepare us a meal while you ready yourself, my love.”
They feasted on warm bread and thick goat stew washed down with wine. Mistress Andra pushed a lumpy sack at Vard as they prepared to leave. “Here are some things for the road, including a tea I told the princess about, for medicinal purposes.” She cast her eyes at Alecia and lowered her voice. “I wish you’d stay another night, Captain. She’s tired.”
“Thank you, Mistress Andra. You’ve been more generous than we could have wished for. We won’t impose on your kindness for a moment longer. I’ll care for the princess.”
“See that you do.”
Vard stared at the woman and her eyes dropped under his gaze.
“Don’t pester the man, Dana, we’ve done what we can.” Master Andra turned to Vard. “May the Goddess protect you and the princess, Captain. You’re always welcome here.”
Alecia paid her respects and they rode into the first flakes of a snow fall. As Vard looked back, Mistress Andra was wringing her hands in the doorway, her husband patting her shoulder. His eyes shifted to Alecia, who already had a hand on her stomach as though she suffered more cramps.
A sudden gust of wind brought a flurry of snowflakes that spattered his face with icy sprinkles. He almost turned back to the warmth of the farmhouse. “Perhaps you should stay with the Andras, Alecia. The weather doesn’t look kind.”
“I told you I would die without you, beloved. Don’t worry. I’m strong as an ox.” She flinched again as her horse leapt over a rock.
“Did the mistress shed any light on those cramps?”
She frowned. “I’ll be fine. Let that be the end of the conversation for this day. I’m not going back to the farmhouse.”
When she got that look, there was no budging her. She could be stubborn, a trait only matched by her toughness. In all the days they had been together, he had never heard one complaint from her. Perhaps she feared that he’d set her aside at the slightest indication of discomfort, but more likely she was honest when she assured him that his company was all she required. That couldn’t last. Winter hadn’t yet set in and already they had the first snows. He must find them shelter before the weather turned really nasty. Amitania might offer the sanctuary they required, but Vard harbored a sense of foreboding when he contemplated the place. He hoped it was just his innate Defender wariness.
They traveled through the building storm until near dark, when Vard found a small clearing in the trees. They threaded evergreen pine branches through the trees to make a windbreak and tied the horses to one side of the small space. They spread their packs on the other side. The snow stopped soon after their preparations were complete.
“Now,” Alecia said, “this is really quite cozy.”
Vard smiled to himself as he made a roaring fire with the wood they had carried with them from the farmhouse. Alecia made tea, and they ate more fresh bread and olives and a rich goat’s cheese. He delighted in the rosy cheeks of his princess as she sat by the fire with him. Her company was pure enjoyment if he forgot their situation. That made him wonder when they could expect to be accosted by the next band of the prince’s mercenaries.
Chapter 4
Alecia dozed in the saddle as she rode. She had lost track of the days since they left the Andras but it must have been close to a week – a week of sudden snowstorms and cold extremities. A week where she felt increasingly ill, her stomach churning for most of the day. And now she could barely keep her eyes open. Vard constantly cast her worried glances but said nothing, and she tried not to complain. There had been little cover for them. One night Vard had found a cave, and another had been spent in a barn. The farmer and his wife had been kind but the hay loft was the best they would offer a pair of tatty travelers. Alecia couldn’t blame them.
What farmer Baran and his wife told them was cause enough for them to be wary of strangers. The prince’s men had made a call to the farm asking for more money when they had already paid their annual tithe. When Baran informed them he had none, the soldiers had conscripted Roser, the couple’s adult son, into the Prince’s Army.
That had left Baran with only himself and his wife to work their holding. Small hope that Roser would be able to send money home on a soldier’s wages.
Alecia’s thoughts didn’t improve her stomach. What was her father about? Was the extra money to be used to defend the kingdom or was it merely an excuse to line his pockets? Did he truly fear the raids by some unknown assailant that were troubling the outlying parts of the principality? That was the other news Baran had whispered to Vard. There had been attacks on distant farms and small hamlets. Word hadn’t come of who was responsible, but several farms and villages had been burned to the ground, the people having perished or fled to safety.
The news disturbed Alecia, and she could see Vard worried about the attacks as well. Perhaps it was not only her father’s men they had to avoid?
Alecia felt a deep guilt at the plight of the Barans and all her people. She should be back in Brightcastle, championing their cause and fighting her father and his demands. Somehow she must find the means and the power to set things right in the kingdom. But she couldn’t return under the threat of betrothal to Lord Finus. She felt shame at the thought but wouldn’t sacrifice herself to Finus. There must be another way.
She roused from her dark thoughts as her horse waddled down the last shoulder of the mountains that separated Amitania from the northern reaches of the Kingdom of Thorius. The Usetar Mountain Range was barely tall enough to be called such, but the journey through the hills and valleys of the range had been treacherous nonetheless. The ground was rocky with large and small boulders strewn about, and smaller stones that rolled under the horses’ feet. Alecia lifted her eyes to peer at the horizon, and could just make out a gray stone tower in the distance.
“That must be the lone tower of Amitania,” she said, pointing. “It was the only tower left standing after the destruction of the city.”
Vard had been scanning the forest between them and the ruined city, and he stared at the tower as if it could divulge its secrets. He had been more introverted each day they traveled closer to a possible mentor. Alecia hoped this sorcerer could help, for she didn’t like the change in her captain.
“I don’t like the feel of the forest between here and the ruins,” he said.
Alecia laughed. It lightened her mood, if not that of her companion. “I have every faith in you, beloved.”
He scowled. “Your faith is misplaced and your memory short. If you’ll recall, it was you who rescued me after the last encounter with your father’s hirelings.”
That sobered her well enough. He was right. Even the strongest reached their limit on occasion. The Goddess knew she had almost reached hers before Vard rescued her. To think she had been ready to end her life! But she could well remember the despair at believing she had no alternative. Locked in her father’s cellar, with only Lord Finus groping her to relieve the monotony, Alecia thought her life was over. That was when she believed her love for Vard wasn’t returned. It was different now. She could face any challenge with him beside her.
Her arm cradled her abdomen and she could almost feel the life growing inside. Her monthly flows were still absent and the sickness grew daily. It could be nothing else. Her heart surged with joy at the thought of Vard’s babe in her womb, but a stab of fear sliced through the elation and heightened her nausea. To be pregnant and on the road was a precarious thing. A fall from the horse could spell disaster, and what if she had to fight for her life or Vard’s? Perhaps she should tell him? No! He will dump me somewhere to brood and give birth. She instinctively knew Vard would never risk the child and would be even more convinced he was a danger to her. She would have to mask the pregnancy for as long as possible. She could not abide to be separated from her love for longer than necessary. He would sideline her soon enough.
“It’ll take the rest of this day and all tomorrow to cross that forest,” Vard said. “Let’s push on.” He kicked his gelding into a walk and plunged beneath the trees.
They stopped for luncheon about an hour into the forest. Alecia had never seen trees so large or so close together. The light was too dim to see more than a few paces in front of her, but Vard had no trouble with his enhanced vision. His gold-flecked eyes magnified what light there was and they glowed when he looked at her. There was little sound besides the occasional rustle of a small creature under the leaves littering the forest floor. No groundcover grew beneath the trees except the moss that covered the many rocks and fallen trunks. The bole on which Alecia sat was damp from the mist that wove between the branches. When she looked up, the trunks penetrated a ceiling of fog, its tendrils drifting toward her. She shuddered at the thought those fingers of fog might solidify and pull her into the canopy.
“Are you cold, Alecia?” Vard asked.
“Just my imagination running wild.” She rubbed her arms vigorously. “I don’t like that fog. It seems to be reaching for me.”
The haunting cry of a bird broke the silence and she jerked upright. “What was that?”
“Just a bird.”
It sounded again but the cry became a screech, abruptly cut off.
“Now I know there’s something out there.” She stood and peered into the trees. “I’ve finished my meal, let’s continue.”
For a moment Vard didn’t move but stood staring into the gloom. Alecia crossed to him and grasped his hand. There was a fine tension in his body as though he were ready to spring.
“Vard?”
He turned to her, his eyes fully golden.
“You’re distracted,” she said. “What is it?”
“My senses tell me to beware but I can’t discern the threat. Let’s mount and hasten through this patch of woods. It may improve as we ride.”
Alecia did as he advised, not confident the forest would change for the better. She was right. The trees became denser and larger until she could reach out and touch a tree with either hand. The light dimmed and the blanketing fog formed a canopy that lay just out of reach. She felt she was being smothered beneath a damp blanket.
“Vard,” she called softly, “I can’t abide this much longer. It’s oppressive.”
“I’ll look out for a place to camp,” he called back. “A fire will cheer you.”
As if he didn’t need cheering! The prospect of spending a night in the soggy jungle made her wince. She swallowed several times to clear the lump in her throat but it wouldn’t shift. Soon Vard indicated for her to stop, and he dismounted and entered the trees to the right of the track. He was gone only moments, but Alecia’s fingers ached from clenching the reins by the time he returned.
“There’s a small clearing and a rock overhang just through the trees.” He helped her dismount. “Follow me.” He seized Swift’s reins and led the way.
Alecia’s heart pounded. She swore Vard could hear it. He looked back at her and frowned, but at what she didn’t know. The clearing was soon reached and indeed looked suitable. A large rock reared up out of the trees and curved a little to make a shallow roof. The remains of the last traveler’s campfire lay to the front of the overhang.
Alecia raised her eyebrows when she saw the blackened logs. “At least we know someone has come this way. I was beginning to think we were the only ones left in the world.”
Vard smiled. “There’s dry wood at the back. I’ll start a fire while you tie the horses.”
Alecia reached for Swift’s reins and suppressed a grunt as stabbing pain gripped her side. Vard didn’t appear to notice. She loosened the saddles but left them on their mounts in case a quick getaway was needed. A repast of last night’s roasted rabbit, very stale bread and crumbly goat’s cheese was soon laid out on a blanket by the fire. Vard boiled water for tea. She ate hungrily. It felt like days since she had eaten, not hours, and her nausea had vanished with the light.
“We’ve only enough food for breakfast tomorrow,” Vard said, “but perhaps Amitania may provide sustenance for us. Do you remember when you first told me about the lost city?”
Alecia’s face grew hot. �
��It was our first outing,” she said, “and our first kiss.”
Vard grinned. “You accused me of believing in fairy tales. I liked the rumour that a powerful wizard had ensorcelled the people of Amitania, so they hoarded wealth and were overcome with hate for each other.”
“I did not accuse!”
“And here we are, riding to find a sorcerer in that very same city.” His eyes gleamed in the light from the fire.
Alecia’s heart skipped a beat. He radiated danger, like a half-tame lion, or perhaps wolf was closer. Yes, Vard as a wolf could be described as half-tame. Vard as a bear, even with the amulet, was a different creature altogether.
She swallowed the twinge of nerves. “Do you think this might be the same sorcerer that the stories tell of? It’s many centuries since Amitania thrived. He would be ancient.”
“Anything is possible where sorcery is concerned, my love.”
Alecia basked in the warm feeling she always had when he called her his love. A thought occurred. “How long do Defenders live?”
He frowned. “I don’t know. My grandfather had the gift, but he died when I was very young. I remember nothing of him but a long white beard and piercing gold-flecked eyes.”
“Just like yours,” she murmured.
“My father didn’t speak of the old man much, but he told me he died in a hunting accident. Where a Defender is concerned, that could mean anything.”
“What animals could your grandfather become?”
“The hawk and the wolf. At least I never heard Father tell of the bear being a form that Poppa could take. I guess I’ll never know for sure.”
“And your father? He was an ordinary human?”
Vard nodded. “He and I were close until. . .”
Alecia clutched his hand and squeezed his fingers. He seemed glad of the contact.
He swallowed and went on. “The transformations began in my fourteenth summer. Father tried to help me as much as he could, but one day he vanished. His bow and quiver were gone, and a change of clothes. I never saw him again.”
Princess in Exile Page 3