The Reign of Trees

by Folkman, Lori

  When she reached the courtyard, it had grown brighter as the sun continued to climb into the sky. A few people milled about now as well, but Illianah paid them no attention. She kept her eyes fastened on Donovan’s. His smile grew larger as she approached. “Princess,” he said, and then he gave her a regal bow. “Your steed awaits.”

  She wanted to tease him for being so formal, yet she did not want to do anything to muddle his mood. If he was willing to dote on her, so be it.

  “Thank you, My Lord,” she said once he had helped her onto Kasba’s back.

  “My pleasure.” She thought he was still putting on a pretense of regality, yet his eyes indicated he really was pleased to help her into her saddle. It felt as if her gown had suddenly tightened across her chest and she was unable to take a deep breath.

  Donovan mounted his horse; they left the courtyard and crossed the drawbridge. Illianah looked behind her as they left the castle. How she had once longed for this sight—the castle of Andoradda behind her. But thoughts of leaving the castle permanently were no longer with her.

  “Planning your escape, Princess?” Donovan asked.

  “On the contrary. Just admiring. I’ve never seen the castle from beyond the courtyard.”

  “It is nothing like your castle in Burchess,” he said.

  True, the St. Moraine Castle was a sight to behold. It still made her breath catch, even though she had lived in that castle since birth. It was taller, bigger, and more ornamental than the castle at Andoradda. Yet, while the Da Via’s castle was unadorned and void of golden trim and stained glass windows, there was something very pleasant about it. “No, it is not like my father’s castle,” she said, “but that is what I like about it.”

  She thought her compliment would have pleased Donovan, yet the smile upon his lips did not match his eyes: they looked vacant and dull.

  When she looked behind her again, she noticed a group of ten soldiers riding out to meet them. “I did not ask for them to accompany us,” he said as the soldiers approached.

  Illianah did not doubt his words. “I am not allowed to ride alone either,” she said.

  “Ah,” Donovan replied, his voice hinting at anger, “but you are a woman.”

  “Am I?” she teased. “I do not know that I had noticed.”

  He smirked at her comment and said, “I do not know how I can respond to that without bringing condemnation upon my head. Your tongue is cloven, My Lady.” The way he continued to smile after he said this indicated he teased as well.

  She looked away from him and studied the forest approaching ahead of them. “So I get to see the great Deltegran forest? I did not think we would be taking this ride after … yesterday.” It was difficult to speak of the censure that had come from General Montague and King Henrick, as acknowledging it might be construed as admitting guilt.

  “I promised we would ride, and I am a man of my word.”

  “Yes, that you are. But I thought that since …”

  “I do not take stock in the chatter of others, Princess. Neither should you.”

  “And that is why we ride at dawn, before the citizens of Andoradda have a chance to see us together?”

  “We ride at dawn because that is the best time to ride. It is peaceful at dawn. It is the time of day when I feel the most powerful. I like feeling like I am one step ahead of everyone else.”

  She did not need to be reminded that she was now awake when she was usually sleeping, as she inadvertently stifled a yawn. Donovan chuckled.

  “I am the opposite,” she said. “I like to wait until I see the last candle in the castle extinguished before I climb into bed. I do not like feeling like I have missed even a minute of the action.”

  “Between the two of us, we seem to have every hour on the clock covered,” Donovan said lightly.

  His words brought sadness to her heart, although she was certain his response was meant to be trivial. He referred to them as “two,” yet Illianah knew that could never be the case. Fate seemed to revel in punishing Illianah, as she was married to one man and forced to live with another.

  The highway took them deep into the forest and for a time, it looked as if the hours were turning backwards. The forest was dark, showing no signs of dawn. She shook an inadvertent shiver from her shoulders. Of course Donovan would have to look at her at that exact moment.

  “Are you cold, princess?” he asked.

  The simple answer would have been, “yes,” but that was not the truth. “No,” she said. “I just had a chill, thinking of …”

  “Stories about the haunted forests of Deltegra?” he interrupted.

  Even though she felt foolish, she admitted as much.

  “Those stories did keep our forests safe from looters for many centuries. ’Tis a shame King Gregory does not believe in ghosts.”

  “Perhaps that is your answer,” she said with a smile. “You could dress your men in ghastly apparel and have them hide in the forests along the borders. You might be able to scare off a few hundred Burchessian soldiers.”

  “That is a terrific battle strategy. I will have to inform General Montague of our new tactic the moment we return.”

  “Yes, please do. You must give him reason to dislike me all the more.”

  “Do not worry about Montague. He is harmless. It is like they say: his bark is worse than his bite.”

  “I doubt that. He is the commander of your army. He must have some bite to him.”

  Donovan sat taller on his horse. “I suppose you are right. However, he has never sunk his teeth into me, so I cannot attest to his ferocity.”

  “Really?” she asked doubtfully. “I saw him take a chunk out of you last night.”

  “He may have nipped, My Lady, but he did not draw blood. Montague and I were raised like brothers. I know him better than any other man. It would take a great deal more than slinging false accusations for him to injure me.”

  Their horses began to climb a steep embankment, causing the conversation to come to a stop while they focused on the careful steps of their equines. But Illianah’s thoughts did not stop. Why was she so troubled by last night’s comments when they seemed to slide right off Donovan’s chest? Was it because she knew, in her heart, she was guilty of being disloyal to her husband? And was Donovan’s lack of distress because he had committed no such crime in his heart? It was all too possible he did not care for her the way she cared for him. It was also possible he was truly extending friendship and nothing more. Her heart tugged upon her lips until she frowned. Even though she knew he would question her change in countenance, there was nothing she could do to wipe the grief from her heart and face.

  At least she had thought the frown was irrevocable until they reached the top of the ravine: their horses stopped in a clearing at the top of the hill where the sun now shone brightly, indicating it would be a hot day in Deltegra. She squinted against the sun momentarily, but once her eyes had become accustomed to the brightness, the forest stole the air from her lips. “This is breathtaking!” she exclaimed. She had never seen anything equally as beautiful. The forest rolled on as far as her eyes could see and in the distance, the horizon was framed by the majestic mountains of Vieve.

  She did not realize she had covered her heart with her hand until Donovan said, “It is heartwarming to see God’s grandest creations, is it not?”

  “Yes, very.” She felt as if something had changed within her heart. This was not just another land—a place where she had traveled to and had grown fond of. It felt as if this land was hers: as if her soul was intertwined with the roots of those stately trees. To think of going back to the barren landscape of Burchess made her soul feel as if it was being whittled away, causing weakness and a looming demise. “I have come to love Deltegra,” she said, not knowing she had given her heart permission to speak.

  Donovan looked happy and satisfied, but then his countenance changed. He looked as if he had the weight of the kingdom upon his shoulders. “This may sound irrational, but do you
know what I fear the most about this war? I fear that if we are to lose to Burchess, King Gregory will destroy our forests. He does not know how to harvest timber selectively so that the entire hillside is not annihilated. He does not know of the animals that call this forest home. He does not know how carefully we select each tree that is harvested, ensuring that our forest remains healthy. He does not know how we love our forest. He only looks at is as a means to his prosperity.”

  Illianah’s heart felt heavy again, yet at the same time, she felt a closer kinship to Donovan. She too felt great concern for what would happen to the forest if her father had his way, but the way Donovan had worded his speech made it feel as if the strings between her heart and his had been pulled taught. He had said, “We,” as if she was one of them. And he spoke no soft words in regards to her father, King Gregory. He spoke as if she was an ally. As if she was no longer akin to Burchess.

  “I do think we fight with greater zeal than Burchess, as we know we are the guardians of this forest. I do believe God will reward our efforts, as this is His land we protect.”

  Donovan no longer looked troubled; he looked confident. He looked imperial as he sat upon his horse, staring out over the infinite forest. If there was ever a man who deserved the blessings of heaven as he protected his kingdom, it was Prince Henrick. But Illianah’s mind was troubled. She knew Prince Harrington’s austerity. She knew King Gregory’s fortitude. However unfortunate and unfair it may seem, she could not feel confident that virtue would triumph.

  ***

  As they continued to journey through the forest, Donovan explained the process used to harvest the trees. The topic that Illianah had once thought to be about as dull and stiff as the trees themselves now captivated her interest. The Deltegrans had divided their land into small quadrants and only a certain number of trees were allowed to be taken off each quadrant every year. Donovan said that while this process did take more time and was not always convenient, it was done for the good of the forest so it might be bountiful for years to come. He spoke of the forest as if it were a living, breathing thing, whereas she knew her father thought of it only as a commodity. Ever since she had learned of her father’s duplicity, she had felt indifference toward the war. It had mattered not to her whether one side won or lost. But now, a fiery passion ignited within her chest. Burchess must not claim Deltegra. She could not think of a greater injustice. Yet, although she now had the passion to protect Deltegra, she lacked the power to do so. Short of donning armor and marching out to battle, there really was nothing she could do. She had been born into the wrong body. She should have been born male: then she would be able—and expected—to make a stand against injustice. This angered her. Her skin felt as if it was about to crack from the pressure of her enraged soul. Even though she was sitting atop a horse, she felt as if her body was too still in the deluge that surrounded her.

  “What is our destination Donovan?”

  “You grow tired of our ride already?” he asked.

  “On the contrary. I merely wish to know where I should wait for you.” Illianah could think of only one way to contain the anger which burned in her soul: speed.

  “Wait for me? You plan on racing?”

  “Yes.” She quickly repositioned herself on the horse, so that she was now riding astride. She had never seen Donovan raise just one eyebrow, though he did so as he watched her get resituated on the back of Kasba. Illianah wondered if he was aware of his expression. “And I plan on winning.”

  “I see that,” he said, his eyebrow still raised. He seemed to shake off his state of awe and looked ahead. “I had planned on stopping at the river. It is over this next mountain. Do you think you can make it that far?”

  “Of course.” She did not wait for further instruction. She dug her heels firmly into Kasba’s side and yelled at the horse. Within moments, the wind was blowing against her face and through her hair; the sound of Donovan’s horse grew farther and farther behind. She did not stop until she reached the river, nor did she look back to see if Donovan would be able to catch her. For the first time since her springtime wedding, Illianah finally felt happy.

  ***

  Illianah was glad to catch sight of the river, as she did not know she would be able to push Kasba much farther. The horse was breathing heavily, as well as snorting in defiance. “I am sorry Kasba,” Illianah said once she had stopped at the river’s edge. “You probably have forgotten what it is like to carry a rider. You have been in the king’s stable too long.” Illianah leaned forward and stroked the horse’s jaw, but then she sat back up when Donovan approached. He looked as out of breath as Kasba.

  “Good of you to join me, Your Highness,” Illianah teased.

  “Good of you to wait for me.” He looked behind him, where the soldiers were coming down the ravine, all of their horses still riding at breakneck speed. “They thought you were making a run for it,” he said, still struggling to catch his breath.

  She laughed. “I suppose it did look that way. I apologize for giving them concern,” she said as she again laughed.

  “Do not be sorry. They could use the practice.” The nearest soldier was still twenty-feet off.

  “Perhaps your stables lack the fine breeding of destriers.”

  “Yes. Our horses are bred for strength, not speed.” He breathed heavily again. “Perhaps we should assign you and Kasba to our league of messengers.”

  “I would be honored. However, we must let her rest first. She is tired.”

  “And you are not?” he asked.

  “No. I feel invigorated.”

  “Naturally.” Donovan dismounted his horse and grabbed both his and hers by the reigns. He led the horses along the river until they came to a soft patch of grass a stone’s throw from the highway. The soldiers had not followed. Donovan led his horse to the river’s edge and then turned back to Illianah and her horse. They were alone; completely secluded by the wilderness. Illianah’s heart seemed to jump into her throat as he stretched his hands out to her. “Allow me,” he said.

  Had it been any other man, Illianah would have insisted on dismounting without assistance. But this was Donovan. She longed for his touch, in any form.

  Once her feet were on the ground, Donovan kept his hands on either side of her waist. She was certain the breath she had taken before she left her horse’s back would be the last breath ever to enter her lungs. In fact, if she could force the hands of fate and have that be her dying breath, it would be well with her.

  His body was separated from hers by mere inches. He held his face so close that she could feel his breath upon her mouth, as he was still breathing heavily from the race. This was that slippery slope King Henrick spoke of. Yet the joy found here at the top of the slope far exceeded any thoughts of the pain that would come after falling to the bottom. To fall down the slippery slope with Donovan brought her thoughts of ecstasy she had never before imagined.

  He did not say anything, nor did he bend closer to bring his lips to hers, as she wished he would. His eyes looked around her face as if it was the first he had ever laid eyes on her. He seemed to be studying every pore. She did the same. His face was so perfectly formed: each dip and vale so delicately carved that he seemed to be sculpted from marble. But no statue could match his beauty, especially where his black eyes were his best feature. She had once thought the blackness of the eyes of the Deltegran royals was marred with evil, but now she thought otherwise. His eyes were like this forest—deep with mystery, awe, and splendor. Within his eyes, she found shelter. He was the home she so desperately longed for.

  He closed his eyes, signifying he was about to kiss her, but she did not want to take her eyes off him. She wanted to remember every detail about this moment. But then he opened his eyes, shook his head as if he was shaking away an errant thought, and then he turned from her. He took Kasba to the water, giving Illianah time to erase the disappointment she knew must be upon her face.

  “You could have escaped,” he said as he turned
back to face her. “I do not think we would have caught you.”

  “It was not my intent to escape,” she said. She did not know why her voice sounded so harsh. Why was she offended he would think she desired to go back to Burchess?

  “But now that you know what you are capable of, possibly you will plan …”

  Her heart shattered. “I will not escape, Donovan,” she said, her voice echoing across the river. She took a deep breath and started again, this time making certain she had control of her emotions. “I have nowhere to run. I can no longer say I feel like my heart belongs in Burchess.”

  “And for that I am sorry,” he said as he turned back toward the river. He took a few steps, plucked a leaf off an aspen tree and then turned back toward her, but he kept his eyes on the leaf instead of meeting hers. “That was not my intent with telling you of your father’s treachery. I only hoped you would see the injustice.”

  “You expected me to see injustice and still feel kinship with those who caused this war?”

  He began to pull at the leaf, tearing it into shreds, piece by piece. “I do not know. Truly, I do not know how I expected you to react. But this I do know: one day you will have to go back.”

  “But if you win the war …”

  Donovan tossed the remaining pieces of the leaf to the ground and brought his eyes to hers. “If we win the war, Illianah, you will still have to go back. We cannot keep you prisoner here forever.”

  “But ….” She stopped speaking once her mind overpowered her heart. He was right. Once the war was over, Deltegra would not keep a prisoner of a past war. Other, lesser countries without moral convictions might, but Deltegra would not keep her from her home, her father, and her husband. Illianah felt as if she had actually fallen down that slippery slope and her body lay lifeless at the bottom. She should have some say in her future, yet she knew she did not. Any chance she once had of having a happy life ended when she married Leif. The only way she could claim her life back would be if … if …. Illianah could not complete the thought, as it was too horrible. She would not go so far as to hope for death to visit anyone, even if it brought her freedom.