by Donna Hatch
The princess stirred but did not awaken. Kai sheathed one of the daggers and quietly opened the door. The innkeeper’s wife stood alone in the passageway. After stepping outside, he eased the door closed. She glanced first at his dagger, and then up at him. He re-sheathed it.
“I apologize for awakening you, sir,” she said in a low voice. “I know you are both weary. My husband thought it would be better if I spoke with you. We didn’t want to frighten either of you.” She looked furtively about, then began in a softer whisper. “We believe it would be better for you both if you left now. The Hanoran soldiers have tracked the princess to the city.”
A tremor started deep in Kai’s stomach as his mind sifted through different avenues of escape.
“They are making a house-by-house search for the princess,” continued Mirre. “You don’t need to say anything—my husband and I know who you are . . . or rather, who she is. We are assuming you are her protector.” She quickly added, “You have nothing to fear from us, Sir Knight. We are loyal to Arden’s royalty. I used to work in the castle before I married. Your lady bears a strong resemblance to the queen.”
Kai dragged his fingers through his hair. As he’d feared, they’d been recognized. He wondered who else had seen them. If someone had recognized the princess, they would have taken note of his face as well.
Mirre continued, “I wonder that I didn’t recognize her when you first arrived. No matter. We want to help. We have gathered provisions and extra blankets for you, and a tent. It won’t protect you from the cold but it will keep you dry.”
“How far away are the Hanorans?” Kai asked tersely.
“Still in the center of town.”
Kai laid a hand on her arm. “I cannot adequately express my gratitude to you, my good woman.”
“It is not necessary, sir. Keep her safe. I pray Arden can be restored someday. Hurry, there’s no time to delay. My husband awaits you at the stable. Speed and safety go with you.” She hurried away.
Kai awakened Jeniah. Disoriented and irritated, she mumbled. “What is it?”
“The Hanorans have tracked us here, and the innkeepers know who you are. Others might know as well.”
Suddenly more alert, the princess snatched her cloak and pulled on her boots, her shaking fingers fumbling to lace them. “I drew attention at dinner. I’m sorry.”
“You said you can only blur for a few hours?”
“Yes, but I think I can blur us both like I did the scullery maid. I’ll try.”
Outside, the air was so cold that it hurt to breathe. By the stable, the innkeeper advised Kai on the best route to take to get out of the city, and then wished them well. Kai gripped his hand in gratitude. The innkeeper bowed to the princess and hurried inside, hopefully to help his wife erase all signs of their presence.
As she and Kai mounted Braygo, the princess whispered, “You might feel a bit strange when I blur us.”
An odd, prickling sensation raised the hairs on his skin.
“I think it’s working,” she added in a whisper.
He nodded and gently placed a finger over her lips to caution her to be silent. They rode through the dark, deserted streets, all of Kai’s senses straining for any sign of danger. He caught the distant sounds of shouting. Outside of town, they left the road for the forest. Huge, twisted trees met overhead and the forest thickened and darkened.
Kai urged Braygo forward, grimly determined to protect Jeniah from danger, regardless of the cost.
Jeniah’s fears made the dark forest terrifying. Light from the twin moons cast sinister-looking shadows that, to her growing imagination, became great, vicious beasts lurking, crouching, awaiting a chance to make a kill. The grotesque trees sagged and bent under years of heavy snow, their bark peeling back raggedly where wild duocorns had fed upon them. Jeniah’s breath came out in ragged puffs in the freezing air.
She resisted the desire to cling to the captain as Braygo wound his way among the writhing, clawing masses of trunk and limb. Alarge bird of prey flew across their path, chasing a small rodent that scurried, squeaking, among the naked trees. Night insects called, and somewhere in the distance a wyrwolf howled.
The moons shone on the surface of a stream. The captain led Braygo to the bank, dismounted, and then paused for a moment. With his head turned up toward Jeniah, he covered her shaking hands with his. Moonlight shadowed his face, but his gesture touched her heart. It meant a great deal that he’d take a moment to reassure her when he might have been preoccupied with their danger. He took the reins and led the duocorn with Jeniah still astride, carefully testing the ice with each step before allowing Braygo to follow. They walked down the middle of the frozen river for several leagues before heading for the riverbank.
As they reached the other side, Kai remounted behind her and gave her an encouraging smile. “Everything will be all right.”
She managed a smile in return, admiring this fearless, gentle knight who had sworn to protect her.
They continued cautiously until the blackness faded to predawn gray. Jeniah’s head began to nod, but Kai, riding with his head erect and his shoulders square, never appeared to tire. Even with his recent injuries, he seemed fully fresh and alert, eyes and ears aware of everything. She let her head fall against him and wondered if she imagined that he tightened his arms around her.
Suddenly, Kai stiffened, then quickly guided Braygo off the path only moments before a contingent of Hanorans rounded the corner. They spread out and began a search pattern.
“I can blur us,” Jeniah whispered.
Kai nodded. They remained motionless as she projected over them an image of shadowy plant life. Kai’s heart thudded against her back and he sat tensed as he poised to fight if her ruse failed. The white-cloaked soldiers rode past slowly, carefully. One came within a few hand spans of them but looked right over them. Eventually, the leader of the regiment called them together and they moved on. Kai waited for several minutes before urging Braygo forward. Fearful that some of the soldiers lay in wait, Jeniah continued to shield them until her strength gave out and she had to stop.
They rode breathlessly all the next day, watching for any sign of discovery. When none came, they relaxed. At nightfall, Kai set up and lashed together the poles of the tent. Jeniah pulled out the blankets the innkeeper had provided.
“We’ll reach Darbor in a few days,” Kai said. “It’s more rugged than Arden, with steep mountains rather than gently rolling hills, and the trees are different, but it is beautiful. I think you’ll like it there. The king is known for his fairness and bravery. He will welcome you with open arms, Princess, and he will fight to help free Arden and make you queen.”
No doubt if she had been born a few years earlier, she would have married one of King Farai’s sons and Darbor would already be her home. She removed the bags from the saddle.
“I never thought I would be queen of Arden. Aven was to inherit the throne. I assumed someday I would marry a Govian or Tiraian prince and spend the rest of my life having children and attending public functions, not making decisions that will affect a whole country. I’m not prepared to be queen.”
“I’m sure you will rise to it. People often have inner strength that goes undiscovered until a challenge reveals it.” Kai began draping the tarp over the wooden frame.
He spoke much the same as her mother had when she’d comforted Jeniah after her father announced that she was to marry the Hanoran prince. She stood silently digesting Kai’s words while he tugged at the tent. A corner had gotten caught on the end of a pole and he was having trouble pulling it clear.
“Here, let me help.” She reached up to free the uncooperative piece of cloth.
Working in comfortable silence, they finished setting up the shelter and then spread a large blanket over the ground cloth that made up the floor of the tent. Neither one could stand up inside, and the tent’s base was not much bigger than a large bed, but it would keep them dry and protect them from the wind.
Ka
i walked the perimeter of the camp, moving so silently that Jeniah would never have known he was there if she couldn’t see him among the trees. He paused, looking up at the stars. He stood stiffly, his shoulders rigid, his fists clenched. He drew in a labored breath, his normal reserve falling away and stark despair shining through.
Jeniah’s heart lurched. She’d never seen such grief, such hopelessness, such unspeakable pain. He bowed his head, clutching something at the base of his throat. She remembered the braided hair he kept there and wondered at its origin and its meaning to him. Someone he’d loved. Someone he’d lost.
He straightened and returned, his expression hard, controlled. Jeniah looked away and pretended she hadn’t been watching him.
“Your chayim appears to be standing watch.”
She nodded. “She’ll protect us while we sleep.”
When everything had been brought inside the tent and Braygo was freed to roam wild, Jeniah crawled inside and sat hugging her knees. Kai climbed in after her and fastened the tent flap closed. Jeniah stared at him, searching for the pain she’d witnessed only moments ago, but it had vanished.
“I used the last firestick yesterday and was unable to find any in the city. And it’s much colder tonight than it has been so far.” He smoothed the blankets and scooted closer to her. “If we sleep back to back we will stay warmer.”
As he neared, she caught his familiar scent, felt the warmth of his body. His nearness sent a wave of caution through her— not exactly fear, but something close to it. She was increasingly aware of him on a physical level, and she suspected that he saw her no longer as just a princess and his charge, but as a woman. She knew he’d never hurt her. Still, she couldn’t stop the tension in her body or the nervousness coiling in her stomach.
He spread the blankets over them both and lay down with his back toward her. Nothing untoward appeared to be on his mind.
Jeniah hesitated before lying down on her side with her back toward his. He scooted closer to her until their backs touched. Her back warmed where it touched his. She wanted to turn over and nestle against him, to put her arms around him. She shivered, not in cold, but in a new and foreign feeling she couldn’t quite identify. She wanted to learn and heal the source of his pain the way her chayim had healed his physical wounds. She wanted to put her arms around him and soothe him, comfort him, touch him. She wanted to explore these very womanly feelings sweeping over her.
She chided herself. Kai Darkwood was an experienced man who no doubt only saw her as a naive child. He probably had a lady waiting for him in Darbor, someone he missed and loved.
She curled up into a ball and tried to not picture him with another woman in his arms.
Kai lay very still while the princess trembled against his back. It might have been from the cold, or from her fear of lying so close to him, but whatever the cause, her tremors gradually lessened and she settled in more comfortably. As her body relaxed, she fit perfectly against him.
In the predawn stillness, Kai awoke. During the night the princess, wrapped tightly in her own blanket, had snuggled up against him for warmth, her head resting against his shoulder. He knew she would never have done that consciously, but his heart whispered that she belonged there.
He admired her sleeping face. One curl lay over her eyes. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he picked up the wayward curl and laid it back with the rest of the dark ringlets spread out behind her head. Her long, thick lashes rested against her cheeks. Her skin was as fair as an angel’s and her lips, full and pink, parted slightly.
He touched her cheek very lightly, reveling in the texture of her skin. She smiled in sleep and turned her head toward his hand. There was something else about her beyond her rare beauty that cracked the walls he had carefully built around his shattered heart. She reached him in a way that he had thought was past reaching. His protectiveness toward her extended far beyond his oath to her father. He felt tenderness, gentleness, and something more. No. He drew back. She was his charge and nothing more.
Ignoring the irritating voice in his head that called him a liar, Kai arose. The princess stirred and woke. Still lying in the blankets, with her hair mussed and her eyes heavy-lidded with sleep, she looked breathtakingly beautiful. When she looked up at him with sleepy affection, his lungs seized and he had to leave the tent.
After they ate bread and cheese provided by the innkeeper, Kai took down the tent while the princess saddled Braygo. A smile came unbidden as he watched her do things that, as princess of Arden, she had always had a servant to do for her. Without voicing complaint, the princess simply adapted to her new way of life, remarkably resilient to her circumstances.
She caught him smiling at her and raised her eyebrow inquiringly, but he refocused on his task without speaking. With some trepidation, Kai acknowledged that his esteem of Jeniah, princess of Arden, was increasing rapidly. But if he allowed such feelings to continue, he would be lost. Besides, she would be queen of Arden, and there was no place for a low-born knight in her life. Indulging his affections would lead nowhere he wished to go, so he rebuilt the shields around his heart, taking every defensive measure he could. He would not lose control, for if he did, the dark and broken place inside him would utterly consume him.
Chapter Twelve
S now fell heavily. Jeniah wore a blanket over two cloaks and kept her head covered as she rode Braygo. Even so, her hands shook and her feet kept going numb. Her thoughts strayed to the night the Hanorans attacked and destroyed her home. She remembered the soldier who’d assaulted her and the way she’d defended herself. If she hadn’t killed him, he would have hurt her in ways she could not begin to imagine. That knowledge failed to ease the tightness in her chest every time she remembered it. Because she’d killed a living, breathing human being, she felt as if a part of her had been broken off and lost. Still, it had been necessary.
She lifted her head. “Kai, would you teach me to use a weapon?”
Walking beside the duocorn, he looked at her in surprise. “Do you really want me to?”
“I realize what you’ve known all along—that knowing how to fight doesn’t make one a murderer. I had to defend myself in Arden against the Hanoran soldiers, but it was luck that saved me, not knowledge or skill. If I ever find myself in that situation again, I don’t want to be helpless.”
“That’s wise,” he replied thoughtfully. Although his blue eyes were shielded, Jeniah sensed a sudden tension in him.
Her words came out in a rush as she tried to explain herself. “I know it isn’t customary for a lady to use weapons, but in Govia, the women are as much warriors as the men and—”
“You don’t have to explain. I think it’s a good idea, and I would be honored to teach you.” He paused. “Normally I would take a new student to the armory and have him choose a weapon that fits. Very young squires use wooden weapons their first few times. Perhaps we can improvise.”
That evening, after they had set up camp, Kai hunted for the right stick and then carved it while Jeniah groomed Braygo. Brushing the animal had a soothing effect on her. The duocorn nuzzled her before wandering away in search of food.
She felt a familiar presence at the edge of the firelight, a lure so compelling that she could not have resisted if she had wanted to. “I’ll return in a moment,” she said to Kai.
He glanced up. “Stay close.”
Her chayim waited patiently while Jeniah wound her way through obstacles in the darkness toward her. The moment Jeniah’s hand made contact with Maaragan, the soothing warmth of the wise one’s mind enveloped her. Jeniah’s heartbeat slowed and she nestled against the chayim. Reassurance and approval flowed from the great beast into the princess, not only for Jeniah’s actions, but for the woman she was becoming. The vision changed, and Jeniah became Maaragan, looking down at the human snuggled into her mane. Though this female was small, she had great power, great potential. She possessed duty, courage, and valor uncommon in humans. Magic was uniquely manifested in her to defeat
the evil lurking over her people, over all of Arden. She alone could defeat the darkness looming over the land. When the vision withdrew, Jeniah sank weakly against Maaragan. A sense of well-being permeated her soul, yet she felt overwhelmed by her task.
“Can I really do this?” Jeniah murmured.
Maaragan growled softly and nuzzled her.
Jeniah drew a breath. When she felt steady, she pushed herself to a stand. Maaragan turned and melted into the darkness.
By the time Jeniah returned to camp, Kai had whittled the stick down to a rough sword shape. “I’m not much of a woodworker, but try this.” He paused and gave her a searching look. “Are you all right?”
She met his eyes and nodded. “My chayim expects much of me.”
He waited.
“She thinks I’m my people’s only hope.”
“Of course. You’re the rightful heir.”
She didn’t try to explain, since she wasn’t entirely sure she understood either. Instead, she took the wooden sword from Kai and held it out in front of her. He corrected her grip and taught her the ready stance and a few beginning moves. It surprised Jeniah how difficult it was to follow him. He made everything look effortless and she moved clumsily, but he was encouraging and patient. Her arms quickly tired. When the night grew too dark, Kai called for a stop.
“You did very well for the first time.”
“Not really.”
“I’ve had squires who didn’t do as well their first time.”
She knew he was only encouraging her, yet she took pleasure in his praise. They ate, crawled into the tent, and without thinking about it, Jeniah scooted back until she felt the warmth of his body. His nearness was reassuring and she felt safe.
Snow fell at an angle as wind murmured in the evergreen trees. They traveled along a river with a steep bank. Large chunks of ice floated silently downstream, and a layer of solid ice lined the river’s edges.