She looked thin, but her eyes sparkled with life, and Ranna had brushed out her blue-black hair until it shone. Her head and shoulders were propped up so she could observe the work.
“Want me to carry you in so you can sleep?”
“Not just yet. I want to watch you work and look at the mountains for a while longer.” She touched his wet hair and smiled. “Don’t forget you promised me windows so I can look out at the Crystal Mountains.”
“I won’t forget. Rostan and I will have the cottage completed soon. I’ll have to go get some timber from up north for the roof.”
“I wish I could go with you, but I can’t ride yet.”
“As soon as you feel up to it, I could take you in a wagon up to the spring pool.”
“I’d love that.”
He followed her gaze as she looked out past him across the dry lands to the Crystal Mountains, its blue ice fields shining in the day’s sunlight.
“In the spring, I’ll take you to the Crystal Mountains, as I promised.”
She laughed.
“What’s so funny about that?”
She laughed again and drew his head down to kiss him. “We may have to postpone the trip for a while,” she said, smiling.
“Why is that?”
“In the spring, our child will be born.”
“What?” He was stunned. “But you’ve been laid up, wounded!”
“From the spring pool.”
“Oh.” He looked down at her stomach. His head reeled, and gladness flushed through him as he thought about her news. A big smile flooded his face as he held her hand. Feeling her eyes on him, those beautiful luminous eyes, he saw a tear and leaned over and kissed it away. “When I thought I had lost you…” he paused looking for words.
“It was meant to be. Our love was written by the Flame,” she whispered.
He thought about that. “Yes. I know.”
She stroked the side of his face. “I think I’m tired now. Carry me in, please. And maybe soon we could take a wagon up to the spring pool. I’d like that.”
A warm desert breeze started up, gliding in from the dry lands across the river. He carried her across the courtyard, her arm around his neck, and her lips against his cheek. The two yellow dogs danced about them, chasing a fluttering butterfly.
Rostan escorted a traveler toward the cottage as Ranna and Helan hurried from the garden to fix food, and then, whistling a happy tune, he walked briskly back across the road to his new cottage, which he and Clarian had built, where his new bride awaited him with his noonday meal.
Clarian carefully turned sideways, Neevan in his arms, to ease her through the door into the cottage. She laughed at something he said, her voice lilting in the soft air.
The great river rushed by in turquoise splendor, beating against giant, round stones upstream, creating a constant roar. The ferryboats bobbed in their moorings against the landing. The tall, silver-green grasses snapped back and forth, changing color as the wind changed direction. Behind the barn, the horses, including a new, young filly, and the cow grazed in the pasture. Little yellow birds darted about seeking insects next to the barn. Towering up from the horizon in the far west, the distant mighty ice spires of the Crystal Mountains sparkled like precious sapphires.
Die for the Flame Page 42