by Susi Wright
Behind him, a couple of dogs barked in the village but quickly fell silent, as the wind direction carried the sound of their escape away. Pulling up at the barn, he dismounted, leading the samblars inside, out of sight. Fralii was sitting up, waiting for his return. She had suspected he might do a great deal more than just scout, so she was not surprised to see he had acquired these two stout animals, and before the night was half over.
Both feeling too energised to sleep, they sat resting for a while longer. ‘We leave much before light,’ Luminor said. Fralii agreed. And there they remained quietly for another hour, Fralii not demanding details of the venture, Luminor not offering any. Just content that things were as they were.
When the time came, Luminor queried, ‘Can you ride without saddle?’ not sure how well she could ride, and concerned for her comfort.
‘Of course!’ she threw back, indignant that he was unaware of her riding prowess. He mentally noted her attitude, deciding it prudent not to mention he was handing her the quieter of the two mounts, patiently watching as she struggled several times to mount without stirrups, wondering if she would ask for help, but not surprised when she led the samblar to an old barrel, using that as a mounting block, and managed after several attempts to do it herself. Luminor, slinging the rolled-up gear and bow across his back, turned away, smiling to himself as he opened the barn doors, leaping on the back of his mount, wisely choosing to make no comment other than ‘Let us go!’
Fralii, astride her new samblar, followed Luminor’s lead out into the misty predawn, and they started at a brisk walk back towards the woods. They would continue across country rather than follow any road, as it afforded them cover and was just as fast, especially with his excellent sense of direction. And Luminor needed secrecy and speed above all, now.
The heavy mist and darkness under which they had started the day’s journey developed into a gloomy drizzle by mid-morning, cold and unforgiving. Their clothing was drenched; even the hardy samblars hung their heads as they trudged in the cloying mud. As the day wore on, the rain worsened to sleet, angling its cruel bite directly into their faces. Fralii was shivering badly, Luminor not faring much better, fatigued from trying to deflect the worst gusts. They spoke little above the wind, almost overwhelmed by the awful conditions. Frequently, Luminor had urged his mount to a brisk trot, ignoring the slippery ground underfoot, beckoning Fralii to do the same, just to warm them all up. This had worked, to a degree, but the pace could not be maintained bareback for more than a few minutes at a time. Slowing down meant being cold again, until late in the afternoon, they were reaching the limits of endurance. Between her chattering teeth, Fralii pleaded, ‘Lumi, could we stay s-somewhere d-dry, tonight? Is there any way?’ adding miserably, ‘I know we have no c-coin.’
Luminor was aware they would be reaching a town by nightfall. He was also certain Fralii could not withstand these conditions another night and day out in the open, without succumbing to a violent chill. He had already considered taking a room at an inn. By the Ancestors! Fralii deserved a reprieve after all she had endured. He too felt the effects more in his weakened state; he had not been able to exert much power over the relentless wind all day. He took her plea as permission to proceed with abandon. When time for payment came, he knew how to deal with it.
‘Yes, Fralii. At Calder, there is an inn.’ He tried to give her a reassuring smile through his frozen cheeks, which he suspected might have been more of a grimace. However, the offer itself was enough, and she nodded gratefully, hoping it was not too far.
Before long, they were entering the town gate, still open, the hour not as late as the descending dark-grey gloom suggested. The bedraggled travellers made their way along the street relatively unnoticed, as most of the townsfolk were already ensconced within their warm dwellings. The odd few people out in this bleak weather had hoods on and heads down, oblivious to all but their own immediate purpose.
Outside the inn, they dismounted, aching, sore, and bone-cold, leading the sorry animals into the cover of the adjoining barn, where they tied them. Then, sodden and dripping water in their wake, they entered the front door of the inn, Lumi informing Fralii in hushed tones that he would do the talking. She made a feeble attempt at humour, mumbling, ‘That will make a change!’
Immediately feeling the warmth of the log fire, though still swaddled in wet blankets and cloak, they relaxed a little, too numb to be disconcerted by the curious looks of patrons. Luminor approached the innkeeper, careful to keep his eyes shaded by his dripping hood. ‘We need room,’ he stated, ‘and place for two samblars.’ He held up a small bulging leather pouch, jangling its contents, fictitious coin—in reality, ironstone pebbles he had collected earlier for the purpose.
‘You sure look as if you do!’ chuckled the ruddy-faced innkeeper (noting that they appeared to have coin and taking in their muddy, bedraggled appearance), and smiled at Fralii. ‘And you both need a hot bath, I’ll wager!’ He held out a key to an upstairs room. ‘Bath and hot meals are extra, I’ll tote it up in the morning. Your animals will be kept… locked up… until you settle your bill.’ He looked pointedly at Luminor’s shrouded form.
‘Understand?’ He had heard a foreign accent in the stranger’s few words, and two samblars were worth far more than the price of a room. Sometimes people took off in the early hours without paying. It was insurance. Luminor nodded slightly and took possession of the key, leading the way up the wooden stairs, Fralii following, pale and tired. A portly woman, presumably the man’s wife, promptly appeared from the back room with a mop, proceeding to wipe up the puddles of water in their trail. She pitched her voice above the buzz in the common room, to their retreating backs, ‘And bring me your wet clothing, if you like. I will launder and dry it by the fire tonight!’
The room was small and simple but cosy, with two wicker pallets covered in furs and blankets and separated by a low table. To these weary travellers, it looked as comfortable as a palace suite.
Luminor turned his attention to Fralii’s well-being and, thinking to afford her some privacy, handed her a blanket. ‘Off with the wet things! I will go find food.’ Fralii complied, grateful for his direction, almost too tired and cold to think for herself.
‘Lock the door,’ he added as he left the room, hurrying downstairs to order a bath, and hot meals to eat in their room. The innkeeper was very obliging, not particularly concerned that the stranger still kept his face hidden, even though the room was warm. He was accustomed to unusual characters coming and going; their business was their own, just so long as they paid and did not make any trouble.
‘I will get our boy to fill the tub out back. The food is ready, my wife will give you plates to take to your room.’ The matronly, round-faced woman was already offering Luminor two bowls of stew. As he accepted the food, keeping his eyes lowered, she asked curiously, looking him up and down, ‘You have travelled far, from another country perhaps? Your clothing… is different. Have you no spare?’
Her scrutiny was making him uncomfortable, so he replied quickly, turning away to escape her probing attentions. ‘Yes. Far. Must hurry… wife is tired!’ Accepting his reticence, the woman pressed no further, only smiled kindly, offering him a folded, dry woollen shift, ‘A loan. For your lady wife. Until your clothes are dry.’ Luminor quietly thanked her, hastening back to the room to give Fralii the food and dry garment. He also was keen to rid himself of his clinging, sodden clothes, and was unusually hungry, taking the stairs two at a time up to the landing.
Balancing the two plates on one arm, the garment draped over the other, he knocked on the door for Fralii to let him in. She promptly did so, tightly wrapped in the blanket. Pleased, he noticed some colour had returned to her cheeks, her long black hair hanging damp, though she had tried to dry it with some spare linen. He smiled fondly as he placed the stew on the table, handing her the tunic. ‘This will be better, after bathing.’ Pushing his own wet hood off, he went over to the wooden dressing screen in the corner. In sho
rt order, he had discarded wet clothing, donned a warm blanket, and joined Fralii at the table to tuck in to the hearty hotpot and bread.
They were just finishing the last mouthfuls, when the boy knocked to let them know the tub was ready, offering to take their empty plates. They followed him downstairs, Luminor placing the wet clothes on the hall table as the landlady had instructed and waited outside the back room, while Fralii enjoyed the rare pleasure of a hot bath. The warmth from the roaring fire in the common room permeated the entire ground floor of the inn, also making the upstairs rooms quite cosy. As he sat in the hallway, he started to feel much better than he had for days, from the blanket, the hearth, and a full stomach.
Sometime later, bathed and refreshed, they returned to the room to retire for the night. Fralii lay on her pallet and pulled her blanket up to her chin, more than ready to sleep, murmuring drowsily, ‘Lumi, thank you, you are a good man…’ then began to snore quietly.
Luminor cherished her growing approval of him, watching her in repose as he had every night since they had taken up company. Unchallenged, in the myriad ways her open violet gaze induced, and unabashed, he felt free to study her features. Her long dark lashes rested on the soft pale-honey skin of her cheeks, the strong arched brows defined her proud nature, the rosy-pink lips still retained their wilful but innocent pout, even in sleep. Her heart-shaped face was framed on the pillow by a cascade of silky black locks, more lustrous than the dark plumage of the magnificent obsidian swan of the Northern Lakes. In contrast to her soft beauty, he reflected as always on her strength of character, built from the hard life she had led, and how little she complained. Even her occasional defiance intrigued him. Above all, it amazed him how she, a powerless human, had saved his life, and how she seemed to care for him and trust him. He wondered if she would still think so well of him if she knew all the secrets he kept. A man, but not human.
Chapter Twenty-six
Four hours of sleep was enough for Luminor. He woke well before dawn, quietly left the room, and crept downstairs to find their dry clothes and blankets, which were, as promised, hanging near the hearth. There was yet no sign of the innkeeper or his wife, as he gathered the items and returned to the room. After donning his leggings and hooded tunic, he rolled and tied the two blankets together, then sat on his pallet, waiting for Fralii to stir, drinking in the sight of her for a few more quiet moments, before her eyes would open, piercing and churning his very soul.
She stretched and blinked awake, looking directly at him as if she expected him to be there, and he drew a sharp breath, feeling the familiar pang of attraction. He held her gaze, revelling in the pain and the pleasure of it. The jolting, exhilarating heat of desire suffused his entire body. He almost wanted to die from it.
Fralii felt the burning intensity of his stare, which seemed to melt her from the inside out. She had occasionally, in the last few days, caught him looking strangely at her, but this morning, it was much more… unsettling. She looked shyly away. ‘Good morning, Lumi. Did you sleep well?’ She wondered if he ever really slept; the only time she had seen him doing so was when he was close to death. ‘Are we leaving soon?’ she said, searching for a distraction, busying herself with gathering their few items.
Lumi seemed to regain composure, shuttering his emotion and hoping belatedly he had not caused her discomfort. ‘Yes. Soon, please.’ He indicated the neat pile of laundered garments on the table beside her. ‘I will go… pay.’ He guessed that all the extra services would add up to a goodly sum, wryly thinking, I hope I have enough… pebbles… His conscience was not amused. With that, he went downstairs to organise their safe departure, leaving Fralii wondering the truth of how he would accomplish this.
The landlord and his wife were up and buzzing around with early morning chores. As he entered the saloon to effect his purpose, hooded as usual, they greeted him jovially, and the wife hastily disappeared into the kitchen, he guessed to bring some breakfast to take with them. Add a few more pebbles! In truth, they had been so kind and caring, Luminor thought guiltily, he sincerely regretted what he was about to do, but mentally pledged to return one day when he had means, to bring to them full recompense. Making use of the brief opportunity while the wife was out of the room, he shook the innkeeper’s hand, thanking him for his service, and turned his full focus on him, producing the pouch of iron pebbles from his pocket, emptying them out on the countertop and immediately scooping them back up, putting them loose in his pocket, as the poor man blinked rapidly, completely disorientated. Lumi left the empty pouch in view for a few moments, making sure the landlord saw him pick it up empty, and replace it in his other pocket. The mental confusion would not last long, but the man would be convinced he had been paid in coin. If he found his takings short at the end of the day, he would very likely put it down to a mistake.
Luminor quickly busied himself, slinging and arranging his gear over his shoulder, as the wife briskly reappeared with a trencher of bread and a chunk of labno cheese for their journey. By this time, Fralii had dressed and joined her companion at the counter. For a moment, she thought she saw the innkeeper swaying a little dizzily, looking around as if he had lost something. She wondered if he had imbibed ale already this morning, knowing some people did have this habit. The wife, though, seemed unperturbed, merrily wishing Fralii good morning and pressing the food into her hands, so she thought no more of it, thanked her, and followed Lumi, who seemed suddenly to be in an almighty hurry to get to the barn.
The landlady had already sent the boy out to bring the samblars for them the moment she saw Luminor bring out his money pouch as she left the room, completely unaware of what followed.
Mounting quickly, they were promptly on their way, emerging into a frosty but promising-to-be-sunny morning, a mighty reprieve from the previous day. The bright early sun magnified their already buoyant mood, getting away at whatever cost, with a comfortable night at an inn, feeling nourished, well-rested, and renewed for the next stage of the journey.
The clement weather followed them for several hours. Fralii felt like talking, and proceeded to chatter incessantly about all manner of things, from recent events, hopes to see her father, likes and dislikes, feelings about life, and on and on. After a while, Luminor started to lose track, having a limited command of the language, but patiently nodded and make agreeable noises at what seemed appropriate times. He still did not know why it was necessary to say so much, but he guessed that meant she was happy. And that pleased him.
Later, she fell surprisingly silent for a while, then suddenly, without preamble, she asked, unable to contain the curiosity she had been harbouring since the morning, wondering still how they had managed to leave without paying, hoping, against the odds, that Luminor would give her a clue. ‘Did you notice the innkeeper acting strangely, before we left? He did not even bid us farewell. He was so talkative, last evening. He looked… dazed. Was he ill? Lumi… what do you think?’ She gazed ingenuously at him. She strongly suspected he had been up to something. She saw him put the pebbles in the pouch the previous day. But, she decided to be content with any answer.
Luminor pressed his lips together, thoughtfully, then replied by way of a believable suggestion and, of itself, a certain truth, ‘Ale… confuses the mind.’ Given the depth of his deceit so far, it was as good an explanation as any.
An icy wind came up during the afternoon. They had stopped briefly late morning, ate breakfast, and made the sensible decision to keep moving, both to reach their destination sooner and to keep warm. Fralii’s excited monologue had subsided to an occasional question. She had a never-ending supply of these, it seemed. Luminor found the situation increasingly unsatisfactory and uncomfortable, since supplying wildly vague answers physically and mentally pained him, even if actually lying was impossible. Being obligated by his father’s rules had forced him into this conundrum, and he hated it. Which brought him back to his major concern, time—the lack of it.
After another period of silence, Fralii no
ticed Luminor frowning worriedly. ‘What is it, Lumi? Is something wrong?’ she asked.
‘Do you know… how many days, since we met?’ he enquired, having completely lost track of the days during his illness, with no idea how long they had left.
Fralii remembered every detail of every day she had spent in his company. She calculated out loud, ‘Well… you took me from the slave market… we slept, then the zabuk… we slept, then the kudros.’ She shuddered. ‘We slept three nights after that, then camped in the cave. Then, the night you stole the samblars…’ Luminor winced inwardly. ‘Then the night at the inn…’ She looked pointedly at him, he grinned sheepishly back. ‘That makes eight days. Why is it so important?’
Luminor was doing his own calculations in his head. He knew he had first seen her captive two days before the sojourn. They did not count. The day in the caves did. Another day to the Capital. That made ten days. Curse tradition! He could be discovered at any time!
‘Why, Lumi?’ she pressed impatiently. It was obvious something was worrying him.
‘Oh… the raiders may follow,’ he prevaricated. ‘Your father must worry.’ That was all true.
Fralii agreed her father would be anxious to see her safe and she, him. ‘Do you believe he is recovering well?’ she asked hopefully, neatly distracted from her other question.
‘Yes. I know it,’ he replied matter-of-factly. Fralii thought he seemed to know a very great deal, much more than he was saying. She had purposely held back from asking more about the mysterious flying incident, a little afraid of what it might mean to know the answer. She was enjoying the growing camaraderie between them, and did not want to jeopardise it by pushing him to say difficult things he obviously wanted to keep from her. If they had enough time together, perhaps he would tell her more about his true self. He was already so dear to her, as he was. She liked his company. She would invite him to stay for a while at her grandfather’s villa, in repayment for his trouble. She did not like to think of the terrible possibility he might have a reason to leave as soon as they reached Splendo.