by D. E. Morris
Without thinking, she rolled in order to avoid any swords that might be coming at her, then scrambled to her feet. The rider who got stuck in the saddle had dropped his blade. If she could get to it, she would have a chance. Seeing the rest of the men converging on her, she knew there was no hope of getting to the sword. She was defenseless and would be lucky if she got out of this situation alive.
One of the men gave a mighty yell, alerting Ashlynn just in time for her to move out of the way of his swing. The sword struck a tree branch behind where she had just been standing, severing it from the tree with a crack. She ran, ducking behind tree after tree, spinning and changing her direction as the men persisted. Then she saw them, the lights in the woods. Her stomach dropped, her heart in her throat. The rest of them were coming. It was the men she and Killian saw enter the church, there was no doubt about it. They'd overtaken him, and were coming to join in the conquest of their comrades.
Someone came from the darkness and grabbed her. She screamed and fought against the arms around her waist, looking for purchase among the many layers of clothing, a way to hurt him. “Stop!” hissed the voice as he set her down. They met eyes before he grabbed her hand and pulled her at a run through the forest, around those searching for them and back in the direction of the approaching torches. “Are you hurt?”
“Killian?”
“Are you hurt?” he demanded.
“No.”
“Good.” She could see the faces of the men coming at them now. “What are you doing?” she asked Killian, panicking.
“Surround her!” he yelled. He yanked her forward and the men with the torches fanned out, joining Killian in forming a protective circle around her. Ashlynn was at a complete loss. Those who had attacked her just a few moments ago quickly caught up with them, and she was left in the middle of a battle. Those with torches tossed them aside to fight with swords and daggers, all of them keeping Ashlynn safe from the fighting. For a long moment, all she could do was watch and try to wrap her mind around what was going on. Then one of the enemies broke through the line. She dodged his swing and grabbed one of the discarded torches. Using every ounce of strength she had, she swung at his head as he turned around, knocking him hard in his jaw with the lit end. He screamed and fell to the forest floor. Without mercy, she turned the torch around and drove the pointed bottom into his chest and killed him.
Now with her own weapon, Ashlynn joined the attack. Though the men who were against her had come across as menacing and violent, they weren't the best fighters. Before long, the ground was speckled red and darkened with unmoving bodies. As soon as the last man fell, Ashlynn turned to those who had aided in protecting her but were still unfamiliar, ready in case they turned on her as well. Their interest, however, was solely on the dead bodies around them. Each of them, Killian included, began searching through pockets and under armor. It wasn't long before one of the men called, “Found it!” and straightened. The others surrounded him to each glance inside the procured satchel as though needing to confirm for themselves that whatever they were seeking had been found.
“Who are they?” Ashlynn asked Killian quietly when he came to stand beside her.
“Simple travelers.” He wiped blood from his face that did not belong to him. “These men robbed their camp earlier tonight and stole some valuable personal items.”
The men turned their attention to the pair, one of them, an older man, gave Killian a nod of thanks. “I can't tell you what we would have done if we'd truly lost this. It's all we have left now. How can we ever repay you?”
“It is I who should seek to repay my gratitude.” Killian glanced at Ashlynn before bowing his head to the travelers. “Thank you for saving the queen...my queen. I am in your debt.”
The five men looked at Ashlynn with curiosity. They scrutinized her torn cloak and breeches, then did the same to the clothing Killian wore. A muted conversation went between them, but eventually the older man nodded. “We should get back to our families...let the wolves take care of these thieves.”
“Here.” Killian untied a small pouch from his belt. It jingled in the way only a coin purse could as he handed it to the man. “It isn't much, but it should help.”
All of them wanted to shake Killian's hand and offer their thanks yet again. With one more glance at Ashlynn, they picked up the torches that hadn't been used as weapons and headed back in the direction of the church. “Come,” said Killian. “We should get back to the castle.”
“I am having a hard time understanding any of this.”
A fleeting smile touched his lips. “I shall explain on the way.”
Snow Steps was not in the place Ashlynn remembered him to be, but on the path back to Montania he was found among the trees, grazing on some winter grass. She accepted Killian's help to mount the horse again, and even let him take the slit reins to walk him for her. Now that the adrenaline was leaving her bloodstream and there was no great chase to make her sweat, the night air felt icy around her. She pulled her hood up over her head once again and drew the edges of her cloak closed tighter. For a time it seemed they would make their entire journey in silence, that Killian had forgotten his promise to fill her in. The longer the quiet surrounded her, the more she was at peace with it. It gave her time to think over the events of the night and to give a heartfelt prayer of thanks to the Giver for keeping her baby safe. Whatever may have happened to her, Ashlynn could take it; if anything happened to her child, she wouldn't know what to do.
“When you cried out for me, it made my blood run cold; I was afraid I would find the worst.”
Ashlynn pushed messy tangles from her eyes and shook her head. “I was barely touched. Had my dagger still been with me I would not have needed to call for you at all.” It wasn't an accusation, though her tone suggested otherwise. Killian glanced over his shoulder at her, but said nothing. This, perhaps more than anything he could have said, made her feel guilty. Still she could not force an apology from her lips. Instead, she said something she felt was kinder. “Thank you for following me tonight.” He nodded but said nothing.
Truly, she was thankful for his sneaky watch over her. He was kind not to argue with her when she said she would have been fine if she'd only had her dagger, but Ashlynn suspected he knew as well as she did that was probably not the case. Perhaps this man who looked so much like her enemy had a good heart, but memories of fear and pain kept her from softening to him too much.
“After you had gone,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence, “those men came out of the church. I stood to fight them, but they all backed away, saying they had no quarrel with me, that they were searching for men in dark clothing. As I said before, their camp had been raided and that satchel they found held promissory notes and deeds to a few small plots of land in Ibays. It is quite literally all they have left.”
Ashlynn's brow furrowed. “I had not even noticed their accents.”
“You were in a bit of shock, I daresay.”
“Why are Ibayish travelers here, camping in the kingswood? Do they not know it is illegal?”
Killian shrugged. “I am certain they do since it is a law by which all nations abide. I was not able to speak with them long enough to hear their story. I suspect the only reason they stopped to speak with me at all besides avoiding attack was because they recognized my accent as their own. I only know they are low on luck at the moment, and doing whatever they can do to survive.”
Glancing behind her as though she could see the camp, Ashlynn wondered what would drive them to a country that was not their own, and to make a place for themselves, even if only temporary, in such a dangerous location. She could make guesses all she wanted to, though the one theory that kept coming to mind was that the treasuries in Ibays were bled dry over the long winter months. Conditions were already declining when she had been there last, and that was at the end of summer. While Donnchadh allowed his people to starve so he could eat, her heart broke for the Ibayish people. Time away from them, as we
ll as her own troubles, had taken them from her thoughts. Now it twisted a new sadness in her. She wondered if that was one of the reasons Killian had not taken Rowan back to his home country.
“Do you ever miss Ibays?” Perhaps that was the reason he sounded so dismal all the time.
“Sometimes, though what I miss about Ibays I can find in Siness: the hills, the mountains, the ocean...”
“The pubs.” When he looked back at her, she couldn't help but grin. “The Ibayish have a reputation for enjoying their ale.”
Killian laughed quietly. “Aye, almost as big a reputation as the Sinessians.”
“Fair point.” Her grin turned wistful. “Jaryn once told me about a time he lived in Ibays. It was only for about six months, but he said it was six months he barely remembers.” She giggled. “I have seen some of the songs he wrote during his stay there. He said reading those over after he got sober convinced him that Ibays is so well populated because everyone is too drunk to care about how many mouths they have to feed.”
“There is probably truth to that.” Looking back at her again, Killian raised a brow. “The tales I have heard of your husband paint him to be a very different man than the one who sits on the throne.”
“Royals have two personalities: the hard exterior for those that bow before us and the soft, much more human side to those that do not. Jaryn is much more approachable than I am, on and off the throne. He has lived a life most who wear a crown will never get to experience, and it is that life that makes him such a great king. He is hard when he needs to be, but he is always fair and just.” She felt bad, now, about leaving him alone in the room they shared. She may not have lied to him, but sneaking out when he was asleep was just as bad. All he was trying to do was protect her and instead of being grateful for it, she acted like a spoiled child and did what she wanted when he wasn't aware. She could not have been more unfair to him.
“Yours will be one of the great romances remembered in sonnets and ballads.”
The comment made Ashlynn smile. “I hope so. There are many days I do not feel worthy of his love. Those are the very same days I am most glad that I have it.”
Killian nodded. “Much like our relationship with the Giver.”
She shrugged her brows. “I never thought of it that way, but I suppose there is truth in that.”
The moon shone much brighter upon them when they stepped out from the forest. Killian's borrowed horse stood near the back road to the stables, reins caught in a tangle of branches it must have pulled along with it as it ran through the forest. Ashlynn took her own reins back, waiting for Killian to calm the scared animal and clear away the detritus. He was gentle with the horse, speaking to it in soft, soothing whispers. Taking the horse by the bridle, he made it stand still and stroked the side of it's face. As she watched, Ashlynn could see the horse visibly relax. It was something she had never seen done before. Finally, slowly, he walked around the horse and put a foot into the stirrup, mounting with ease.
Side by side, they walked up the road together in silence, nothing more passing between them, even when they drew closer to the stables. Each of them had their reins taken over once the stablehands saw them and polite conversation passed between each pair. As Snow Steps was led back to his stall, Ashlynn turned toward Killian to catch his eye, but he seemed to be purposefully keeping his attention on the young man taking care of his horse and the horse itself. Feeling more than a little awkward, Ashlynn cast one more smile of thanks to the man who'd taken Snow Steps, then left the stables without so much as a glance back.
The same route she'd taken just a few hours prior was her choice of reentry into the castle, shedding her cloak and boots along the way. She held them close to her as she moved carefully along the wall, her back pressed to the stone so as to avoid detection from the guards still stationed outside her room. The door to her ladies' quarters was still unlatched, letting her slip inside and close the door quietly. No one woke or even stirred as she crossed the room with bare feet and took the door into the room where her husband was blissfully unaware in his sleep.
A fire still burned in the hearth, though it was quite low. Ashlynn changed back into her nightdress before adding more wood to keep them warm, hoping if the noise woke Jaryn that he'd assume she had simply woken because she was cold. It wasn't until she lifted the covers and slid in beside him, however, that he gave a quiet sigh and rolled over to pull her close. Ashlynn let out a small breath of thankfulness, glad he hadn't reached for her when she hadn't been there.
As his arm went behind her and she rested against his chest, he kissed her forehead. “Did you enjoy your night of rebellion?”
Ashlynn's heart sank. Of course he knew she'd gone. Lifting her head, she looked at him to see his eyes still closed. He appeared to be asleep, but the groggy question let her know he'd probably been flitting in between slumber and wakefulness since she'd left. Putting her head back down, her brow wrinkled in guilt.
“No,” was her simple answer. In reply, Jaryn squeezed her again, then drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Six
Ashlynn approached Jaryn the next morning with a sense of shame. He said nothing to her about her late night adventures as they woke up together, which somehow made her feel worse. He simply held her as he did every morning while they discussed what the day before them would bring. Ashlynn indulged, knowing he was avoiding the subject in hopes that she would broach it, though she didn't feel quite ready. Instead, she brought up Luella and her unique parenting style. Jaryn agreed about how hands-off she was with Tiyal, but reminded his wife that Luella had grown up with parents who had paid her no special attention; she didn't really know anything different.
When they finally began getting ready for the day and Ashlynn was helping Jaryn with the sleeves of his doublet, she thought of the way she'd done the same for Killian the night before, and felt the shame creep back in. As she worked on the ties by his shoulder, she sighed softly and offered a quiet, “I'm sorry about last night.”
“So am I.” Jaryn stayed still as she moved to attach the other sleeve, but turned his head to look down at her. “Ashlynn, I don't know what has happened to us since we married, but there has been a shift in our relationship that I do not like.” She stepped back and dropped her hands, and Jaryn faced her. “You never used to keep things from me or go behind my back the way you did last night. You have argued with me over things before that meant something to you until you were blue in the face and that passion is something I have always loved about you. Lately the arguments we have feel petty and irrational, as though we're fighting just to fight.” There was sorrow on his face that hurt her to see, yet she couldn't find the right words to form an apology. When Jaryn took her face in his hands to make her look up at him, she only felt that much worse. “You have my heart now and always, my love, but it feels more and more like you are breaking it instead of taking care of it.”
“I'm sorry,” she whispered feebly. “I am, Jaryn. I am so sorry. I wish I could blame it on the pregnancy but...” She trailed off and pulled away from him to walk closer to the burning hearth.
“But what?” Jaryn followed her, unwilling to let her shut him out. “Talk to me, Ashlynn. You tell me of some of the burden you carry, but there is more. I can feel there is more. Not that the idea of Merrik being alive and out there somewhere isn't enough, but I can feel it in my very being that there is more you carry each and every time I look at you.” He took one of her hands and pressed it to his heart. “Do you think me so bumbling and clueless still that I wouldn't see it?”
Her smile was thin and fleeting. “Of course not.” She pulled her hand free to wrap her arms around him. For a brief moment she considered telling him about her lack of abilities, but she wasn't ready to share it yet, not when she still knew so little. “I am sorry for being such a terrible wife these past two years.”
“It hasn't all been bad,” he assured, rubbing her back. “I love you so much that it hurts me to look back to the
days before we were married and then to now, seeing us in such contrasting lights...especially when I so recently almost lost you.”
“I don't like fighting with you, in particularly when I know a good deal of it is my fault.” Ashlynn reached up to touch a hand to his face. “I know it has been tumultuous since we said our vows and that two years have passed, but can we start again? Today? Can we begin anew?”
“If the Giver's mercies are new every morning, surely mine can be as well.” He kissed her lovingly, holding her close. For those few moments it felt like all was right between them again, similar to how it was before they wore crowns and high titles. All too soon, however, there came a knock to the door leading in from the room her ladies shared. Jaryn sighed and looked down at Ashlynn. “Someday I am going to kidnap you and we are going to disappear to a place where no one can find us. It will be just you and me, and the only thing we will do is spend time alone together.”
The thought made Ashlynn smile and close her eyes. “I would love nothing more.”
“Ashlynn?”
She groaned and turned her head, but refused to part with her husband. “Come in, Zarra.” The door opened and all three ladies came in, one after the other. The two younger ones went straight for the wardrobe to help pick out what Ashlynn would wear, but Zarra stepped close to the royal couple, making Jaryn raise a brow at her.
“I don't believe I invited you over for a group hug.”
“Killian returned last night,” the girl reported in a quiet voice. “They say he was injured.”
“Injured?” Jaryn finally let go of Ashlynn and turned for the door. “I should go see what happened. Jessiah stirred many pots, it would seem, and I don't want Killian taking the blame for it.”
Zarra nodded and moved to pick up Ashlynn's discarded riding clothes, Ashlynn reaching for her husband as he made to leave. “Jaryn, wait.”