by Janeal Falor
It’s still awkward between us, even as I struggle to reign in the pain. Tension clings to the air from my unease and the exhausting fight. “Yes, thanks to you. I’m certain this is one of Captain Smythe’s crew. He looks familiar.”
Robert nods. “Run and grab Stewart so he can help me bring back this scoundrel and scout for others that may be about.”
I nod, grateful to get away—though from the pirate or the awkwardness around Robert, I’m not sure. I turn and dart back to camp, an ache in my side.
Chapter
Fifteen
I can’t help but laugh when Constance throws cold water on the smelly pirate. He stands, sulking, while his bound wrists and Stewart’s hold on his arms keep him from running. He stares at everyone with dark, murderous eyes.
“Really.” Constance sniffs at him to see if he’s fit for travel yet. “How can you stand to be around yourself with that stench?”
“Argh.” The angry noise sounds more like an animal’s than a person’s.
Stewart tightens his large hands, but Constance goes about finishing the job as if nothing happened.
Robert and Stewart thoroughly searched the area but were unable to locate others that might be following us. Once again, no one is allowed to go off alone, in case someone else is out there.
Jocelyn and Emeline finish packing away the few items Constance used to clean the pirate, and everyone is ready to wind their way through the forest. Sometime this afternoon, we’ll get fresh supplies. The prospect makes me want to walk faster.
The leaves are perfectly still as we continue on our journey. The day promises to be a warm one. A few high, puffy clouds are the only thing gracing the sky besides the radiating sun. Birds chirp their noisy song in the forest around us.
My legs ache from all the exertion of walking the past several days. Relaxing walks are fine, but this is grueling. Everyone else manages to keep a good pace. They are even dragging along the pirate, whose hands are bound. With my lungs burning, I slow to a stop and cringe.
Robert turns and looks back at me. Heat rises to my face. He leans over and whispers something in Stewart’s ear. They speak a moment, with Stewart shaking his head several times and looking at me. Robert’s mouth moves one last time, and then he heads toward me. Constance glances back, eyes tightening.
“She’s fine.” Stewart interrupts the silence. “Robert will make sure she’s all right. We’ll slow our pace a little, but we have to keep moving.”
Constance’s eyes fill with worry, but she turns and continues on, as does the rest of the group. Robert hands me a water pouch. Still feeling awkward around him, I’m not sure I like this arrangement. I take a long, refreshing drink. I’m uneasy as I look about the dense forest around us, avoiding Robert’s gaze.
“Are you doing well?” he asks.
“Yes, thank you. I’m not accustomed to so much strenuous walking. I’ll be fine.”
“Do you think you can keep going? Or should I carry you?”
My cheeks flame. Which is the worse prospect? Continuing to walk and ache, or being humiliated by being carried by him? Admittedly, being carried does have a certain appeal to it. “I can keep going.”
So we walk behind the group, slowly, but at least we’re moving forward. My face still burns as I concentrate on walking in an attempt to rid myself of it.
We set a steady pace, still faster than what I’m used to, but not the brisk pace that’s beyond my stamina.
“By later today we should be there, and then we can eat a filling meal and rest up,” Robert says.
“That sounds wonderful, especially if Constance is cooking.”
“Agreed.” He hesitates, but then pushes on. “I didn’t wish to make you uncomfortable, and I would have left you alone had I known of your impending marriage.”
Fearing to speak what I actually want to say, I simply nod and keep placing one foot in front of another. Marriage to a prince wouldn’t be nearly as nice as getting to know Robert better.
We continue in silence for a time, and my discomfort gradually diminishes. The walking is no longer as hard. The ground remains fairly even though my legs burn with the effort. I concentrate on my footsteps, avoiding rocks and branches along the thin grass path.
“Tell me more about your intended.” Robert breaks the silence. “I didn’t know servants were allowed such luxuries until they’d been released from duty in the royal courts.”
I grab a hold of my skirt. “Ah, well, I suppose you found an exception. As you can see, I still belong to Princess Arabella. She gave…consent for my marriage. Though she doesn’t appear to like it.” I mumble the last line knowing I shouldn’t say such things, but wanting to anyway.
“Humph.” His nose wrinkles with disgust and then smoothens out. “Tell me about the lucky fellow.”
I try to hide yet another blush by glancing in the other direction while I spin out a lie I hate to tell. “There’s not really much to tell. I’m mostly following Constance’s wish for me to marry and be provided for. She loves her own job but doesn’t feel it’s a lifelong task for me. I’ll still be there for the Princess on important occasions.”
He sighs deeply. “When is the wedding to take place?”
Caution spreads through me. “I’m not sure how things are going to go at this point. Everything has been so crazy lately.”
“It sure has. Will you still be with Princess Arabella for her wedding?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever stray too far from the Princess’s side.” I laugh bitterly. “What about yourself? What great plans do the future hold?”
Asking about him will keep me from lying but won’t protect my heart. What can he tell me that won’t make him more desirable?
Instead of answering, he looks at the group ahead of us and says nothing. We walk a few miles like this, the group getting further as we go, though staying in sight. The silence is only interrupted by the padding of our feet. An air of uneasiness hovers about as if waiting to suffocate us.
Remembering Constance’s words about Andries, I wonder how my relationship to Robert compares to it. Constance had mentioned disagreements. Was this what she meant? Not that this relationship is like what Constance described. But there’s a feeling of promise to it. Like it could become so if we’d only let it.
It doesn’t feel like we’re arguing, but we’re not talking. Maybe it’s the same thing. I don’t know why I care anyway. He shouldn’t be too familiar with me now that he knows of my wedding. He’s probably not interested in any case.
I concentrate on the pain to avoid more thoughts of him. My legs had been like rubber upon waking this morning, even shaking when I stood. That had been bad, but this was worse. Not only dd they feel like rubber, but they feel like they are on fire now.
When the group ahead of us gets out of sight, they stop and wait until we get almost caught back up. I take a long draw from the water skin, quenching my thirst. The side of my stomach groans in protest. I grab my side, squeezing in an attempt to ease the pain. Instead, I hit the bruise caused by the pirate when he kicked me. A moan of pain escapes me. Robert glances over and then quickly looks back at the road.
The pain from my side reminds me of the earlier fight. I’m certain my face looks atrocious. Without a mirror, I haven’t seen the bruise myself, but with Constance wincing every time she glances my way, it has to be bad. Thankfully, it only hurt when I touch it.
I watch Robert out of the corner of my eye. He doesn’t appear to be any worse off after the fight, though he favors his uninjured arm whenever he moves tree branches out of our way.
Glancing at the pirate ahead of us, it’s easy to see he hadn’t fared so well. He limps visibly. The cut on his head is deep. Constance had done an overly good job bandaging it. I have to wonder if she went overboard on purpose.
Constance had considered healing us all, at least me a
nd Robert, but Stewart insisted that everyone needed to save their strength. Though Constance had tried to disobey Stewart by drawing on her own health to heal me, I stopped her, not wanting to deplete Constance’s health in favor of my own.
My breathing comes in har,d and we slow even more. I can’t stand this any longer. “I’m sorry if I said something that offended you. I was only making conversation.”
He rubs a finger over his eyebrow and replies as if the conversation had never stopped. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not offended. It’s a difficult subject for me. My parents and I don’t exactly see eye to eye. To them, my future is perfectly mapped out, but for me,” he sighs, “it’s not so well planned. This is one reason I’m grateful for this chance to get away from them for a while.”
“Ah, yes. Parents. I’m sorry to hear you’re having problems with them. I hope they can be resolved.”
“I hope for it too, but we’ll see.” He offers me a half-smile.
“What are your parents like? Other than seeing a different future for you.”
“They are…well, I guess they’re good people. I fear I’m biased on the subject while I’m not getting along with them.”
“What exactly don’t you agree on?” I’m prying, but I can’t stop myself from asking.
“My father wants me to follow in his footsteps and take on the family business. Sailing appeals to me more, though.”
“What does your father do?”
Robert’s forehead wrinkles, his mouth pulling into a frown. “He’s a merchant.”
“I remember now. You said your family trades with Captain Zaccheus.”
“Yes. I shouldn’t speak ill of my parents, but they’re too greedy. I don’t want to be like them, in that regard at least.” His voice is sour, but as he continues, it becomes wistful. “Sorry. I really shouldn’t have said that even if I do think it’s true. It’s easy to talk to you, though.”
“I’m glad you think so. Your parents do sound difficult to be around. I can’t blame you for wanting an escape. You don’t have to worry about being like them, though. You’ve only been generous to me.”
“I’m glad to hear someone thinks so. I worry…” He shakes his head. “It’s funny. You seem to understand, yet you’re an orphan, and the closest thing to parents for you are Constance and Stewart. They are nothing like my parents.”
I laugh, trying to keep it light. “They certainly are not. I—”
Before I can finish my thoughts, my foot catches on a protruding branch, sending me flying to the ground. Robert wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me back up before I crash into the hardened dirt below.
I look up at him, our bodies touching. My breath had been whisked from me, though not from the fall, and I’m trying to find it again. But it won’t seem to come.
His arms slowly move from around me, ending by his side, but our bodies remain next to each other. Our gazes lock, warmth flowing through me. I want to lean in close and fall again, this time purposefully into his arms.
But I can’t. Not ever.
Slowly, but somehow much too quickly, I pull back. My waist still tingles though his arms are no longer there. The all too familiar heat fills my face as I linger on his touch.
“Th—Thank you,” I finally manage to stutter out.
He nods, but says nothing. With an unsaid agreement, we both start walking again, only this time remaining silent. The bond circulating between us is almost tangible, intensifying with each step.
Chapter
Sixteen
After another hour of walking in the oddly stimulating silence, the daylight faded. We are half a mile from Ilewen Farms. Exhaustion pounds at me by the time we reach the others already setting up camp. Constance insisted that we eat and get a good night’s sleep before we go for supplies. I’m more than willing to follow the plan if it means I don’t have to walk more for the moment. Though it does mean eating a meal that leaves my stomach grumbling. I settle into the shelter, ground cold and hard beneath me.
I awake the next morning to my entire body aching. I roll over and cover my eyes with my hand as the bright light bombards me. Blinking several times, I finally sit up and drop my hand. The now familiar smell of campfire drifts to me. I stand and quickly dress.
Constance greets me at the fire with a bowl of mush. “It’s not much, but it’ll get you through the day.”
“Thank you.” I accept the bowl and eat the thin cereal quickly as Emeline and Jocelyn clean up everyone else’s breakfast. They hover over the scowling pirate. I scrape the last of the white mixture out of my bowl and hand it to Emeline’s waiting hand.
“We should get going. I want to get supplies and try to be back early so we can get another good night’s rest in before finishing our journey,” Stewart said. “We should leave the prisoner behind until we’ve scouted out the town. Robert, Abner, would you please stay with him?”
“We will,” Robert answered for them both.
“Thank you. Constance, are you going or staying?”
“I’ll come with. Adelei should come as well.”
I grind my teeth at the thought of more walking, but try to cover it with a smile. I’m certain Constance is just worried about me. That, or my being with Robert is bothering her. Not that there’s an issue there. At least not one I’ll let anything happen with. Still, the forced smile leaves my face.
“I’d like to join you as well, if permitted. It’d be nice to see some of Ilewen Farms again,” Jocelyn says.
“That’s fine,” Stewart says and then turns to Emeline. “As long as you’re able to finish cleaning camp?”
“I can handle it. There’s not much left to do, and it means I won’t have to walk.”
I can’t help the twinge of jealousy that comes at that.
“After everything is cleaned up, take some time for yourself,” Constance tells her.
Emeline replies with a grin. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Those of us going to Ilewen Farms turn and follow Stewart toward town. At least it’s not far to go today. As we leave camp, a sense of unease creeps over me. The sensation grows when I glance back at the camp that was hidden from view by the trees.
I hope it doesn’t have anything to do with Robert. Or maybe that is what’s causing it. I don’t want to think on it too hard. Brushing the feeling off like an unwelcome bug, I continue walking. This time, we take a slower pace, making it easy for me to keep up, though it still makes my feet ache.
“Stewart,” I interrupt the silence. “Would you tell me about the man we’re going to see? How do you know you can trust him?”
“He’s my father. If we can’t trust him, I don’t know who we can trust.”
“Oh.” The heat of the day is growing, bearing down on me. “Why haven’t I met him before?”
Constance answers the question with a laugh. “He’s too busy for anyone, even royalty. Since I’ve known him, he keeps mostly to himself with work.”
“Will he be upset with us for coming, then?” Jocelyn asks.
“Not when he sees me,” Stewart says. “Though my father is constantly at work trying to keep Ilewen Farms in good order, he always makes time for me. Once he hears of our plight, I’m sure he’ll try to do more than we need him to.”
“He sounds like a good man.” I wipe the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. “I’m sure I could convince my parents to give him some help so he doesn’t have to overwork himself.”
“I’ve already tried. The man persists in doing everything himself. He has some assistance, but he always refuses their help. He feels that if he doesn’t do it, it won’t get done right.” Stewart laughs harder this time.
“Here we are.”
Golden grain crops sway in the gentle breeze, contrasted by the bright-blue sky. The sight of elves busy at work in the fields brings back memories of my previous vi
sits here. Usually I came after the harvest was brought in, to celebrate the year’s crops. The celebration would last three days, with all the elves staying up late into the night.
On the first day, my parents and I would inspect the year’s growth. The second day, a competition would be held, where twenty elves from all over Omanska would try to bake their best bread. On the third day, the queen would sample every bread and declare a winner. The winner would then make dinner for the royal family, all while festivities continued. The food was always good, but not as good as Constance’s.
Now it must be harvest time. Males and females worked alongside each other in the crowded fields. I’ve never seen so many people in the fields before. They stand to watch us walk by. Instead of the looks of revere I normally receive, looks of contempt shoot in my direction. I quicken my steps to remain close to Stewart. Jocelyn keeps near as well, while Constance brings up the last of the group.
“Does it take much longer to get there?” I ask Stewart.
“We’re close.”
“Good. These stares are giving me the creeps.”
“They are a little more troublesome than I expected, even having two humans with us.”
It must be bad if he’s worried about it.
“They weren’t this bad when I came before,” Jocelyn says.
“That’s because you were with the princess,” Constance replies. “Being with her has protected you from a lot, my dear girl.”
Nearing the center of the farming community, we see the giant wooden warehouse used for storing grain until it can be shipped to its destination. Gathered around the building is a huge group of elves talking in lowered voices. Many of the females are brushing tears off their wet faces. As we pass through the group, several malicious looks are sent to me and Jocelyn, but unlike in Port Varas, no insults are hurled our way.
Stewart leads us through the group and is about to enter the building, when a snatch of conversation reaches me, stopping me in my tracks. Jocelyn tumbles into my back, but I barely notice.