“There’s no time to search for it now. We must leave.” Rowan pulled at Aiden’s arm, and they fell in step behind Gareth and Kathryn as they headed toward the chamber’s exit.
Aiden knew she was blindly following three people she knew nothing about, but she didn’t know what else to do. She had no memory of the path she’d taken to the cell, so she had no idea how to find her way out. Plus, she’d rather take her chances with these people than spend one more night locked away. She’d begun to think no one would ever come for her.
She shouldered her gear, but before they’d gone too far, Rowan stopped in front of her. Gareth and Kathryn were a bit ahead and Aiden heard voices. She felt useless and unprotected without her sword.
She strained to see who was blocking their escape. They had only traveled along one narrow corridor that led from the chamber and taken one turn since they left her cell. But for the first time in days, Aiden felt the slight brush of a breeze. Fresh air.
She strained to see why they’d stopped moving.
“Stand aside.” Katherine spoke to three men who’d blocked their path in the narrow, poorly lit corridor.
“Not likely, girl,” a man gruffly responded.
Kathryn raised her crossbow, but the man closest to her lunged and struck the bow with a sideways blow of his sword. The arrow misfired against the wall. She recovered quickly and struck him across the face with the butt of her weapon.
Gareth challenged one of the men, the steel of their broadswords echoing loudly off the rock walls. Rowan pulled a small dagger free from her belt. Damn, Aiden had no weapons with which to join in the fray.
A third man grabbed for Rowan, and Aiden landed a solid punch to his jaw that made him stumble into the wall. Well, no weapon but her fists. Rowan was quick to follow by kicking him in the crotch. He dropped to his knees, and Aiden grabbed him by the collar. She hesitated. She’d received training with the sword and hand-to-hand fighting techniques, but at the monastery it had all been abstract, hypothetical, nonlethal. This was different.
She stared into the man’s eyes. What was she looking for? Some sign of tangible malice. Aiden paused too long. He began to regain his strength and struggle to his feet, so she banged his head against the rock wall. Once, twice, and then a third time for good measure. Giving in to the urge to do the man bodily harm uncorked some deeply buried anger, and once she’d tapped into the fury, it had surged to the surface as she lashed out. The side of the man’s head oozed blood. He sank to the floor and didn’t move.
“Working out some frustrations?” Rowan’s question carried a note of humor.
“I…I…something like that.”
Rowan offered her dagger to Aiden. “Here, given what I just witnessed, I think you might be better with this than me.”
Aiden nodded. Finally, she was getting a bit of her anger out for having been held without explanation and against her will. Payback was improving her mood.
“Stay behind me.” She motioned for Rowan to step back. Kathryn was struggling. Without a sword, she was at a disadvantage. The crossbow wasn’t an effective weapon in such a tight space, and the blow to the man’s jaw had only slowed him for a moment. He lunged at Kathryn, but Aiden struck downward with her short blade, catching the cross guard of the man’s sword near the handle and giving Kathryn a chance to step beyond his reach.
Kathryn loaded another arrow and fired.
Gareth’s opponent swung his sword ineffectively as Gareth sunk his blade into the man’s chest and twisted before the man fell to the ground.
Aiden faced off with Kathryn’s attacker. She managed to block another strike and then, with the blades locked together near the cross guard again, she pressed his back to the wall. He slipped free somehow, reversing their position. His blade was dangerously close to finding purchase in Aiden’s shoulder when she heard the unmistakable thwack of the crossbow firing. He slumped to his knees, an arrow protruding from the center of his back. Kathryn stood across from Aiden, her discharged crossbow still raised.
The man groaned loudly, fell sideways, and then there was no noise except the sounds of the breathless survivors. Gareth’s shirt was bloodied, but he looked as if he was uninjured so Aiden reasoned the blood was not his.
“Let’s go before someone else discovers we’re here.” Gareth wiped his sword and slid it into the sheath at his belt.
The hour was obviously late. No one was about. They kept to the shadows, away from the moonlight as they worked their way through the slender alleyways of the village toward the main gate.
Once past the large stone archway, Kathryn stopped. She stepped into the shadows of the gatehouse wall. “We have horses tied just at the tree line there.” She pointed south. Aiden nodded.
One by one, they slipped through the gate to cross the open ground for the trees. Four horses waited for their arrival, just as Kathryn had said.
Aiden was itching to put distance between herself and Eveshom. So much for her first solo journey to the sea. Everything had gone horribly wrong. She was hungry, tired, and probably looked like she’d been sleeping underground for a month. She stood silently and waited for the others to choose their mounts.
Gareth handed her the reins to a large chestnut mare. “Her name is Sunset.”
“Thank you.” Aiden didn’t really know what else to say. A group of total strangers had fought to free her, but she had no idea why. She didn’t know whether to feel grateful, anxious, or suspicious.
Aiden decided she would feel nothing for the moment.
Just before they entered the heavy woods to head east, Aiden looked back toward the moon reflected on the surface of the nighttime sea. Once again, lines from the primordial poem came to her:
Who tells the ages of the moon, if not I?
Who shows the place where the sun goes to rest, if not I?
She paused, rotating to gaze back at the churning dark water. She had many questions. She hoped answers would come with the sunrise. Until then, she was glad to be free. She faced into the light wind and breathed in the crisp night air.
Chapter Eight
They rode until they could no longer hear the distant crash of the sea against the rocky coast. Aiden was so weary that dizziness threatened her balance, as if she’d been drinking too much ale again. Finally, her companions stopped and dismounted.
“Let’s camp here for the night.” Kathryn freed a bedroll that had been lashed to the back of her saddle, and Aiden pulled on a worn leather overshirt against the chill. It was too late to make a fire so they just spread blankets in a clearing near the trail. A wool blanket Aiden had brought with her from the monastery was still tethered to the outside of her satchel, but she was angry about losing her sword. Without it, she felt exposed, vulnerable.
She had a million questions she was too tired to ask. As she spread out her bedroll, she watched Kathryn from a few feet away. The others deferred to her, but she appeared too young to be in a position of power. Aiden studied her delicate profile in the moonlight. The golden strands of her hair were luminous in the moonlight. She stood with her blanket in her hand as she watched Kathryn, but quickly averted her eyes when Kathryn glanced her way.
She busied herself spreading her blanket as if she hadn’t just been staring unabashedly at Kathryn. She felt Kathryn’s eyes on her now and tried not to acknowledge the attention. She stretched out on the ground, wrapped tight in her blanket, facing in Kathryn’s direction. Kathryn’s eyes were closed so Aiden had the luxury of studying her once again from several feet away. Gareth and Rowan were also nearby, but Aiden was drawn to Kathryn. Exhaustion finally claimed her, and she drifted into a deep sleep.
*
Aiden jerked awake. She sat up and tried to focus on her surroundings. She was on her blanket on the ground. She looked about. The others were sleeping around her. Would she always wake up among strangers? She took a deep breath and rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands, then rose quietly to go relieve herself.
As she wa
lked away from their camp, she thought of her mother, the woman who had given her life but abandoned her. These thoughts often came to her in the latest hours of the night.
Had her mother cared for Aiden but been forced to relinquish her child? The monks at the monastery who raised her would only say that Aiden had no family and nothing more. No matter how many times Aiden asked, there were never any answers. The men of faith would only say she came to them alone as an infant. Eventually, she stopped asking.
It was a strange thing to be alone in the world, to have no story, to have no legacy, only the life you made for yourself. And yet she’d always had the sense she was destined for something, something bigger, something yet unknown. Maybe every orphan had those same feelings.
She’d been well treated by the monks, clothed, fed, educated, and taught to defend herself, but still she’d always felt isolated. She’d lived among them but was not one of them. It was not just her gender that marked her as separate but some other thing she didn’t have a name for, a feeling, a sensation of hidden destiny perhaps.
The night surrounded her like a dark cloak so she stepped carefully, eyes on the ground for fear she’d stumble in the darkness. She froze when a rustling noise sounded just ahead.
The dampness of the earth seeped through her trousers, just above her leather boots, as she dropped to one knee and strained to see the cause of the noise. Clouds cleared, and moonlight revealed a great horned owl several feet away.
Aiden sat awestruck and watched as the owl hunched over whatever prey he’d captured. When he swiveled his head slowly to give her a fierce look, she decided to give him his space.
Just as Aiden stood and began to move around his position, the predator took flight, his wingspan equal to the height of a man. The owl turned to face her, almost hovering as he made several powerful strokes with his massive wings. The white of his inner feathers glowed in the moonlight. His piercing yellow eyes bored into hers before he disappeared up the hillside into the night with a series of mighty wing strokes against the damp night air.
Surely this was an omen.
Aiden stood quietly, reflecting on the teachings of the monks. The owl’s energy was supposed to be at its peak in the blackness of night. The owl had the ability to discern the shadows. This creature was also believed to be a guardian of the underworld, and protector of the dead. She’d doubted the myths about animal guides, but maybe they were true.
Was the great bird trying to tell her that her mother was dead?
Aiden stilled as a cool draft swept past her, and she spun in both directions. She saw no one. She was alone.
Chapter Nine
The next morning, Kathryn woke first. She’d slept soundly, although now she realized her shoulder ached from its weird position on the hard ground. She shifted a little and watched Aiden sleep. What a surprise to discover that the heir to the Belstaff throne was a woman. She didn’t yet have a sense of what Aiden was like, but she’d seen enough to know she was intrigued.
Nearby, Rowan stirred and moaned softly. She stretched and yawned. “I hate sleeping on the ground.” She sat up and rubbed her back. “Why do I always end up with a rock under my blanket?”
“I’ll get some wood. I think I need coffee before I can face this day.” Gareth yawned also and slowly got to his feet.
Aiden began to stir. Her sleep-tousled hair was adorable. Kathryn smiled at Aiden before she could stop herself.
“Good morning.” Aiden sounded a bit hoarse. No doubt she’d had a rough few days in the Eveshom jail. Aiden sat up and rummaged around in her satchel. She pulled out a shirt and trousers. “I think I’ll walk back down to the stream we crossed and wash up a bit.”
“We’ll make coffee and eat something before we break camp.” Kathryn held a kettle as Gareth worked to create a spark to start a fire.
Aiden nodded and then turned to walk down the slope toward the stream.
Kathryn watched her retreating figure, lost in thought.
“She’s gorgeous isn’t she?” Kathryn hadn’t realized that Rowan was standing next to her until she spoke.
“What?”
“Aiden is gorgeous.”
“I guess. I hadn’t really noticed.” Kathryn could never hide things from Rowan, but she was determined to try. She could tell by the grin on Rowan’s face that she hadn’t succeeded.
“I don’t think she’s anything special.” Gareth added more kindling to the fire and then brushed dry leaves onto the blaze.
“She’s not exactly your type, Gareth.” Rowan reached for the kettle in Kathryn’s hand. “I’ll go fetch some water.”
“Oh, I’ll get it.” Kathryn pulled the kettle she’d been holding closer to her chest.
“I thought as much.” Rowan crossed her arms. Kathryn smiled back at her over her shoulder as she followed the path Aiden had taken.
Kathryn paused in some thick laurel shrubs and watched Aiden from a small distance. Aiden’s shirt was off as she knelt beside the stream and doused her hair a couple of times to rinse out the soap. The shock of the cold water caused her to catch her breath. She swept her fingers through her hair as she tossed her head back. She jumped when she saw Kathryn.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.” Rivulets of water ran down Aiden’s neck, chest, and shoulders as she stood up. “I was, um, getting some water for coffee.”
“I thought maybe you just wanted to catch me with my shirt off again.” Aiden smiled and Kathryn’s stomach fluttered. Her cheeks felt hot, and she feared she was blushing.
“Sorry about that too.” Kathryn wouldn’t have asked Aiden to take her shirt off in the first place if she’d known she was a woman. As she stood in front of Aiden now, she marveled that she could have ever mistaken Aiden for male. True, her body was toned and lean and her breasts were small, but she it was also subtly feminine. Beautiful.
“I didn’t mind.” Aiden spoke softly, barely above a whisper.
Kathryn was standing close but still she wasn’t sure she’d heard Aiden. “What?”
“I didn’t mind taking my shirt off for you.”
Kathryn met Aiden’s gaze with equal intensity. After a few seconds, Kathryn cleared her throat and looked away. “You’re wet.”
“Sorry, what?”
“You’re wet, from the stream.” Kathryn reached for a small towel draped over a nearby shrub and handed it to Aiden. She wiped her face, arms, and chest. She kept the towel in front of her chest.
“You’re also hurt.” Kathryn noticed an angry cut on Aiden’s upper arm.
“It’s nothing. A doctor stitched it up for me.” Aiden dabbed her arm lightly and then gave Kathryn a searching look. “Can I ask you what it looks like? The birthmark?”
“You’ve never seen it?”
“I grew up in a monastery. No mirrors.”
“A monastery?” Kathryn hadn’t even gotten a chance to ask where Aiden had been hiding the past two decades. If she’d been sequestered in a monastery then that might explain why she’d just surfaced and why no one knew where she was.
“The monastery is in the Theirry Foothills north of Eveshom. I was taken there as an infant. They have ideas about things like any clothing that might be considered adornment and they had a thing about mirrors.”
“Ah yes, the insidious threat of vanity.” Kathryn smiled. Aiden probably had no idea how good-looking she was.
“Something like that.”
Kathryn stepped around Aiden so that she could see the back of her shoulder. She hesitated but then began to slowly trace the outline of the design with her fingertip. Aiden’s skin was cool and damp from the stream. “This part is a crescent moon.”
Chills spread down Aiden’s arm and across her shoulder from Kathryn’s touch. She let the towel she was holding slowly drop to her side and closed her eyes, savoring the soft contact.
“And here is one star, and another here, and one more. Three stars.” She lightly touched each spot.
Aiden turned to face her.
They were so close. Aiden wanted to touch Kathryn, but she was afraid. She’d never met anyone like Kathryn. She had no idea how to build a bridge between them, but every cell in her body craved connection. Kathryn’s lips were parted, and she moved closer.
“Oh!” Aiden gasped. Kathryn was still holding the kettle between them, next to her chest, and when she leaned into Aiden the cold metal touched bare skin. The possibility of the moment had been lost as quickly as it had materialized.
“I’m so sorry…I…I forgot I was going to get water.” Kathryn backed away from Aiden. “I should let you finish getting dressed.” She blushed and looked down at the kettle. She turned and hurriedly filled the pot with water.
Aiden pulled on her shirt, droplets of water from her dripping hair dampening it in spots. She smiled at Kathryn. She wanted to recapture the closeness they’d just shared, but Kathryn had withdrawn.
“You really have no idea who you are, do you?” Kathryn wasn’t accusatory; she seemed genuinely curious.
“Of course I know who I am.” But she knew that wasn’t what Kathryn really meant. A person without a place in the world, without ancestry, was no one.
“You don’t know what the mark on your shoulder indicates?”
“No.” Aiden was reluctant to admit it, but she had no idea what it meant.
“It’s the Roth family crest.”
“The Roth family?”
“Come with me. I want to show you something.”
Aiden rolled her soiled clothing into a bundle and followed Kathryn back to their camp. Washing her clothes would have to wait for another time.
Chapter Ten
Kathryn handed the kettle to Rowan, who filled it with coffee and set it on the fire to boil. Some bread and cured meat was spread on a cloth near the small blaze.
“I was just about to come look for you.” Gareth reached for a piece of the dried venison and then reclined as he pulled a bite free.
Birthright Page 4