She turned around, walking back towards the cave. This magic, no, this demon inside of her had been the one encouraging her to go on alone. Though it didn’t help that she secretly wanted to do as it said. She didn’t need anyone. At least, she didn’t think she needed anyone. The Faerie Queen had mentioned she would fall if she entered Castle Silene alone. Now she wondered if by “fall” she had meant something other than death.
What if all her anger had been stoked by that magical force inside of her? Could she even trust her emotions now? Come to think of it, she had lost her grip. In the past, she prided herself on her ability to become anyone she needed to be, to display only the emotion that would serve her best. But now…
She could hardly blame George for what he had done. So the man liked women, that was hardly a crime. He had just gallivanted with a woman at the wrong time. His biggest crime was running away, abandoning his honor. But Una would have done the same. What kind of honor made you turn yourself in, especially if doing so meant your death?
All that wasn’t what bothered Una. What bothered her most was the woman. And above all, the fact that his amorous desires were her biggest concern frustrated her even further. What should she care if he had a fling with someone else? It wasn’t as though she was the center of his universe. But did she want to be? And if they were to have something...more, would it remain as temporary as his time with the kitchen wench?
This was a different situation, she knew that. He had been a lord’s guard, traveling from place to place. Settling down would have been difficult. But now he and Una were traveling companions. There was a difference.
Of course, none of that would matter if George died tonight or tomorrow. She quickened her pace to reach the cave again. Sure, Arthur was there to protect him, but she wanted to make sure nothing happened when she wasn’t around to help. And she needed to apologize for her outburst. It may have done more damage than she intended. She had to give him a reason to fight on, to keep living.
Her pace quickened, and she all but ran back to the cave.
29
George huddled against the fire, uncontrollable shivers running through his body. The fire burned, but his insides chilled, and not just from his fever. Everything ached after Una left. She confirmed everything he’d uncovered about himself over the last few days. He was worthless.
Every part of his life had come to this. First, through his neglect and selfish foolery, he had brought Sir Broderick to his death. Second, he had allowed that same foolery to take him away from Una. His hubris, his desire for redemption had been the very things that destroyed his honor a second time.
There would not be a third time. He knew it. His chance for redemption was long gone. He wasn’t even sure he would live to even attempt it.
No, his body was dying, his mind was empty, and his soul...his soul was broken. At this point it would be better to die and hope that hell was not as bad as the Christian preachers made it out to be. Perhaps there was no hell at all. Perhaps he would be trapped in this Otherworld for all eternity. It was no more than he deserved after all.
The other man accompanying Una watched him from where he sat against the cave wall, occasionally stoking the fire. The look on his face was concerned, but why would he worry for him?
He’d never done anything to earn this man’s trust. If anything, the man hated him, hated him for what he did to Sir Broderick, for running away. He probably thought rescuing him was nothing short of a waste of time.
His vision swam, and his chills turned to an intense heat inside of his body. He threw off the cloak and groaned, as even that small movement made the wounds on his back and sides ache.
The fire was too hot, he needed air. Slowly, painstakingly, he rolled to his other side, away from the flames. The action put the cave entrance within sight, where Una had gone. She had left him, abandoned him. He didn’t blame her. He had left her, hadn’t he?
Oh how much he wanted to walk out that cave entrance, leave the others so they would never have to worry about him again. Or…
Something gleamed in the firelight among Una’s things, not far from where he lay. He recognized it. Her knife, the one she had used for everything from self-defense to skinning conies. Something about the way it caught the flickering fire light called to him.
He wasn’t sure how long he stared at it. With his feverish and clouded brain, it could have been minutes or hours. It must have been some time, as he dozed in and out of consciousness, because eventually he overheard the other man breathing deeply in his sleep, and the light from the fire died down.
He was alone, and in more ways than one. His clouded mind centered on a single emotion: despair. What more could he do? Nothing. He was wounded, and likely dying. He would be nothing but a burden for Una from here on out. Perhaps it would be best to hasten what was coming.
Tentatively at first, he reached out a hand, wincing as various gashes along his arm stung as it scraped over cave rock and dust. But he reached, straining his muscles and rolling forward slightly until the tips of his fingers grasped Una’s knife.
He held it close, once again admiring its light. The fire had died down by now, but there was still enough to see a deep red gleam in its reflection. Blood and fire. Yes, he should do it. Rid them of his burden. They needn’t bear it, and he did not want it either.
Turning the blade so that it pointed towards his chest, he took a deep breath, readying himself. Would it hurt? Of course it would, though he had endured pain in equal measure. What mattered was the others could continue on their quests. It was better this way.
Dimly, he thought he heard screams in the back of his mind.
Something lashed out and caught the knife in a blow, casting it out of his hands and onto the cave floor far enough away that he would not be able to recover it.
“What do you think you’re doing?” came a voice, sharp and piercing, but somehow the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.
“Una…” he whispered, the name spilling from his lips.
She knelt near him, grabbing his face in her hands. He didn’t even mind the pain as her hands clamped over several of his shallow wounds.
“George,” she said, shaking him just a little. “George, can you hear me?”
“I can hear,” he said. His voice was nothing more than a croak.
“What’s going on?” said the other man, Arthur. He must have just awoken.
“George,” Una repeated, ignoring Arthur, “George you must listen to me. I did not come all this way, left the path I was on, listened to the damn Faerie Queen against my better judgement, and fought a bloody magician just so you could end yourself.”
The Faerie Queen? She had told Una to come for him? Why?
“I’m...not...worth,” he managed to get out.
Una interjected. “George,” she hugged his face with her hands in a tight grip. “Of course you’re worth it. Any good person is worth it.”
“But, what I did…”
“I don’t care what’s in your past. Right now, you fight for justice, and to deny yourself is to deny that justice. You may have made mistakes in the past, so what? I was in prison for heaven’s sake. Arthur left me there. We all have problems.”
“Hey, now let’s not get…” began Arthur.
“And if you think,” Una continued, once again ignoring Arthur, “that you aren’t a good person, then your injuries are getting to you worse than I thought. You are good, George. Even if you aren’t perfect. You are the Red Cross knight, and you will get over your injuries and come with me to Castle Silene or you and I will die trying.”
George couldn’t help it. Knight or not, he began to weep. Great tears streamed from his eyes, flowed onto Una’s hands, but she did not take them away. Instead, she hugged him, cradling his broken body in her arms. It was, by far, the most affection she had ever shown him before. It was a far cry from the moment when she had recoiled at his touch. For once in his life, despite all the wounds both physical and psychol
ogical, he was content.
30
The next morning Una rose to find George still sleeping and doing so somewhat comfortably. There was still sweat on his face, and he looked a little restless, but he was alive, and that was what mattered. She touched his forehead. The fever was still there, and it would likely remain until they could get him more help.
Arthur wasn’t in the cave, but his pack and scabbard were still there, sans sword. Perhaps he had gone looking for some food. Una had enough food for herself, but it would be better to move on to this little town outside the Forest of Arden.
Checking to make sure George was not about to wake and making sure she took her knife with her this time, she stepped outside.
It took her no time at all to find Arthur, who was folding some cloth across two large sticks.
“We can’t carry him on our backs the whole way,” he said as he saw her approach. “This way he can ride on the cot and we can carry him together.”
“Where did you get the cloth?”
“I left some of my travel pack here before we left. It had my blanket among other things.”
“And you say the town isn’t far from here?” Una stared down the path ahead of them, which she knew led to the main road. That much was only a half-hour’s walk at least. If the north end of the forest wasn’t far beyond, they might be able to carry George there without too much difficulty.
“Not far at all,” Arthur replied. “We’ll travel slower with George in tow, but I estimate it won’t take more than a few hours.”
Una nodded. “Then let’s get to it.”
She retreated back into the cave to wake George. Although she hated to interrupt his sleep, as essential as such things were for recovery, he needed more than a hard bed of stone. He needed a proper rest, and that’s what she would give him, even if her muscles gave out in bringing him there.
George did not protest. His visage was still dark and worrisome, but there was an acceptance that hadn’t been there before. “Thank you,” he said, smiling at Una as they hoisted him onto the cot. She hadn’t seen him smile much before now. Not since they rescued him. It was a good sight to see. Despite everything that had happened to him, and how miserable he looked, there was still something endearing about the way he thanked her.
Her own attitude had also changed overnight. She was convinced that her magic, whatever dark form it took, was partially responsible for her anger the night before. It had quieted now, and as such, she was able to see more clearly.
Yes, George wasn’t exactly a sight for sore eyes at the moment. His body was torn, his face was pale, and she wouldn’t let him forget just how much he had cried last night. Once he was feeling better anyway. It would come up.
But he meant well, and honestly it was nice not being the one in need of rescuing. This time Una had been the one who saved George, both from Duessa and from himself. Maybe once he had recovered, they could share a conversation, maybe spend some time getting to know each other better. After all, they had only spent a handful of days traveling before.
Together, they set off, with George in the stretcher, and both Una and Arthur taking one end of the two sticks so that George’s feet dragged on the ground. It wasn’t the perfect scenario, but it would work.
But what she thought was a short walk back to the main road ended up taking them over an hour. Dragging George behind them significantly slowed them down. But Arthur kept insisting it wouldn’t take long to reach the town.
‘Wouldn’t take long,’ was a relative statement, it appeared. At best, it must have taken over three hours after they had found the main road. Both Una and Arthur needed frequent breaks.
The good news was they didn’t run into any strange creatures or travelers on their way. The bad news was George was still feverish, and often mumbled loudly yet incoherently as they went on. It motivated Una to move faster.
She pulled and pulled, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground and the next step ahead. She only barely noticed Arthur alongside her, pulling just as hard. She just focused on putting one foot in front of the other.
It was only then she noticed the ground was brighter. More light was filtering through the trees up ahead. She looked up to see that not only was there more light, but she could see a wide opening up ahead. They had finally reached the northern border of the Forest of Arden.
To say she was relieved would have been an understatement. She almost dropped her part of George’s stretcher in relief.
Cool, fresh air greeted her upon exiting the forest. It was the most beautiful sensation she had ever experienced. At least it seemed that way in the moment.
“We can rest here a bit, but we’ll take a path to the west. The town is very close.”
“I can keep going,” said Una, renewed vigor passing through her. “We can make it.”
Arthur didn’t argue. He joined her in dragging George further, soon finding the path he had been talking about and moving west from there.
Una glanced behind them, east to where Castle Silene lay. It felt odd to be traveling away from the castle, after spending so much time to close the distance. But it wasn’t far, and they still had a few days before the midsummer solstice. Right now, her priority lay with seeing that George was properly cared for.
Ahead, she was finally able to make out the steeple of a small church. They had arrived!
She pulled forward with all her might, feeling her leg and arm muscles protest from traveling so long. They were so close now. Soon George would have the help he needed.
As they drew closer, she spied an inn, and as they approached, a young woman came outside to see who they were. She quickly went back inside, probably to get the owner of the inn and tell her who was coming.
Sure enough, a moment later and the girl returned, this time with an older woman in tow. They hurried to meet up with the three of them.
“What happened?” said the old woman as she caught sight of George. She didn’t even ask who they were, just went straight to analyzing the problem. That was something.
“He was tortured,” said Una. “We got him out yesterday. I think he has an infection.”
The old woman put her hand on George’s forehead, even as they continued to drag him forward. “Hm, yes. He has a fever. Bring him inside and we can get him cleaned up and I’ll have Charissa make some tea. Come now, there’s little time.”
Una did not argue, she and Arthur pulled George the rest of the way to the inn. The old woman had already gone inside and extracted a large wash pail, not that different from the one Una had washed herself in after escaping Londinium, though this one was larger.
There were four women inside, the old woman and three of her daughters it seemed. The mother instructed all three of her daughters to fetch water, which they did, bringing in pail after pail until the bath was full. Meanwhile, the old woman threw some of the water in a large pot and set it on the fire. When it was boiling, she added it to the bath.
After finishing preparations, they gently raised George off of the cot and into the warm water. He winced a little as the water touched the wounds in his back and sides, but he seemed to relax a bit once he was fully submerged.
“We’ll let him soak for a wee bit while I prepare a poultice,” said the mother. “Fidelia, Speranza, help your sister with the tea, and fix something to eat as well.”
The two sisters bobbed their heads and hurried to join their sister in the kitchens.
“Now, Arthur,” said the old woman, rounding a nearby table and grabbing several items from a cupboard against the wall. “You mind telling me what trouble you got yourself into this time?”
“Of course, Caelia,” Arthur nodded. He waved a hand over at Una. “This is Una, she was traveling with George before they got separated.” Turning to Una he added, “This is Dame Caelia, the owner of this inn.”
Una nodded graciously to the old woman, as she cycled through which persona she should use to present herself to the Dame. In the end, she decided not t
o use one at all, but try to be more genuine, not an easy feat for her. But she had a feeling that this woman would not stand for anything less. “We are most grateful for your help.”
Caelia returned her nod. “The girls are all mine. The skinny one is Fidelia, Charissa is the one with the long curls, and Speranza is the one with her head in the clouds most of the time.”
“And I take it you’ve met Arthur before?” Una asked.
“It wouldn’t be the first time he’s been here asking for trouble, or doing his best to get out of it,” Caelia said, eyeing Arthur. “So which is it this time?”
“Perhaps a bit of both,” said Arthur. “There are dark things happening in the forest.”
“That there are, there always are.”
“These are darker than usual. There is a sorceress who has escaped from some shadow realm.”
“I can tell you what I know,” offered Una. She didn’t like revealing much, but this woman deserved their confidence, especially after agreeing to help with George without knowing anything. Though she wouldn’t tell her everything.
She began from the beginning, starting with when she and George met. As always, she left out any mention of her own magic, but told the woman most of what happened, from the serpent they killed, to the night when they were separated, to her meeting with the Faerie Queen, and finally mentioning her rescue of George from the City of Pride with Arthur’s help. At that point Arthur began cutting in from time to time to tell his side of the story, but for the most part he let Una do the explaining.
“That is…” the woman began, taking another glance at George in the washbasin. “Quite a story. I still find it incredible that you actually spoke with the Faerie Queen herself.”
“Does that not happen often?” asked Una.
“Heavens, no, child. Most consider her a myth. I know better though. I saw her once as a child when I got lost in the woods. A deep sleep fell on me and the last thing I thought I saw was the Faerie Queen standing over me. I thought I was in a dream, but she was exactly as you described. When I woke, I was out of the forest, close enough to my own home that I knew where to go, thank Jove.”
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