Urerla had come round, and once Will had assured her that Nials was going to be fine, she had pulled herself together enough to get help to carry Nials and Laurice to their beds so the healers could attend them. Laurice came round as she was being carried away. She insisted on issuing orders, smiling at Eleanor as she gave them their freedom back and made sure the traitorous guard was locked up for further interrogation.
It took a few days for Laurice, Nials, Urerla and Merl to recover. In the meantime, Eleanor and the others were allowed to go where they pleased; curious, appraising looks followed them. The full story of what happened appeared to have spread through the entire tribe, and small children kept coming up to Eleanor, begging her to blow things up. They had been given their own suite of rooms, overlooking the private garden, and Eleanor was enjoying sleeping in a bed again. She had even been able to have a bath. Despite the relaxed atmosphere, good food and comfortable bed, Eleanor’s nerves were on edge. At first she thought it was worry for Merl, as the knife wound had been deep, but Will had stitched up the gash, promising Eleanor that Merl would be fine. She believed him. It was not Merl that was making her uncomfortable, and as she thought about it she realised it was Conlan’s mood that was affecting her own and everyone else’s. They were all trying too hard to pretend everything was great, yet it did not feel right at all. Conlan had said barely five words to her in three days. He left their rooms before she woke and came back after she had gone to bed; he had almost moved into the stables with Meran. She did not begrudge him this contact, as she knew how much he missed Rand and how much his attention would be helping Meran, but Eleanor still felt like he was avoiding her. With this thought in mind she wandered down to the stables to enjoy the relative peace and the cool air the early hour afforded her.
Horse saw her approaching and came trotting over with an excited nicker. Eleanor climbed onto the fence so she could sit and stroke her friend’s nose. Looking out over the other horses, Meran was nowhere in sight. Having given Horse a long hello, she dropped down from the fence and headed towards the dark of the stables. Eleanor stood in the doorway, allowing her eyes to adjust to the gloom. Several stalls were filled with dozing animals. Moving down the building, Eleanor glanced into each stall. She heard Conlan’s voice before she saw them. He was murmuring softly to Meran in Dwarfish.
“Is that good? I am glad you like it… You deserve it, you are so special, do not give up; you are strong enough to survive. You want some more? Here.”
Eleanor smiled at the affection in his voice. In the last stall Conlan was stood with his back to her, feeding Meran treats. Eleanor was amazed at the difference three days had made. Meran was still thin and fragile, but he did not look like he was on the verge of dying. His movements were more fluid and graceful, as if some of his body’s pain had gone. The look in his eyes was brighter and more alert, and he was interested in what was going on around him. He saw Eleanor and snorted a greeting. Conlan turned around, holding Eleanor’s gaze for the first time in days. Silence stretched.
Meran, impatient for the tasty morsels he could see in front of him, nudged his head into Conlan’s stomach. The expression on Conlan’s face twisted into a rictus of pain. Gasping, he took a few steps back from Meran, face paling. The horse flashed Eleanor a concerned look and they both turned to look at Conlan as he stood, head bowed and arm wrapped protectively around his belly.
“What happened?” Eleanor asked, taking a step towards him.
“Nothing,” he said, stepping out of her reach. “I’m fine, please leave me alone.” His voice was hard and cold, but Eleanor could hear the misery underneath it – could feel it, even – as he refused to look at her. Worried, Eleanor took another quick three steps towards him. He retreated until his back hit the stable wall and he could go no further.
“You’re in pain, why?”
Holding her gaze with a miserable one of his own, Conlan stared at her and shook his head.
“I’m fine,” he insisted again.
Eleanor pushed gently into his stomach; he closed his eyes, jaw muscles clamping down on a groan, his body shuddering. Eleanor pulled his jacket apart, dragging his shirt up so she could inspect his abdomen. She got a flash of fist-shaped mottled purple, green and yellow bruises, before Conlan dropped the food he was carrying for Meran and drew his arms across himself, pulling his jacket closed and blocking her view.
“Please, I’m fine, leave me alone.”
Hurt that he would not tell her the truth, Eleanor took a step away and tears slipped down her cheeks.
“Don’t cry, Eleanor, I’m fine, truly.”
“You won’t tell me what happened – and that hurts,” she sobbed, waiting for an explanation. In miserable silence he stared back. With a kick of frustration she realised he was not going to tell her and felt her mind trying to fill in the blanks. Who would want to hurt him? Had Freddie hurt him as revenge for her? Had Will let him do it? Did they not understand that all they were doing was hurting her again?
“Freddie,” she whispered, seeing the confirmation in Conlan’s eyes. Rage shot through her with such force that she started to shake. “I’m going to do that glorified fire-lighter some serious damage.”
Conlan’s hand caught her arm and he looked at her beseechingly. “Please, Eleanor, no. Freddie had every right to make me suffer. I should never have let you do it.” Murderous rage created a pounding, throbbing cloud in her head. Her energy levels spiking, Eleanor shook his hand free and ran from the stables, heading towards their rooms. She knew Conlan was following, but she could run far faster.
She slammed the door open to Freddie’s bedroom with such a bang that it jerked him from sleep. He sat up drowsily as she stormed towards him. Not wanting to kill Freddie, she had forced her energy levels back down on her run from the stables, but she was still fuming.
“Hi, Eleanor, I…” he started, his voice disappearing as he registered the look on her face. “Oh,” he murmured.
“How could you?” she screamed. “How dare you hurt Conlan! You’ve wanted to do this for ages, haven’t you? Inflict pain, make him suffer because I chose him over you. Why didn’t you believe Conlan when he told you it had been my idea, that I talked him into it? Do you really think so little of me?”
Eleanor paused as the full impact of the pained, guilty look on Freddie’s face reached her.
“You didn’t ask him for an explanation, did you?” she continued. “You just attacked him.” Her voice was a horrified whisper and her relentless mind presented her with another question that made her stomach hurt. “Did you even give him the chance to defend himself?”
Freddie did not seem to know how to respond, but the expression on his face said all Eleanor needed to know as she fought desperately to keep control of her rising energy levels.
“You hateful, spiteful, selfish loser!” Eleanor screamed, watching tears spring into Freddie’s eyes.
“Enough!” Will insisted from behind her, moving to Freddie’s side.
“I told you this would happen, I told you,” Amelia said in quiet accusation from Eleanor’s side, disgust on her face. The words tearing at her, Eleanor stared at Will.
“You helped Freddie?” Eleanor asked, her whole world turning slowly upside down. This was Will – he cared for and loved Conlan, surely he would not want to hurt him. Freddie she could understand, she could imagine him losing control, but Will? He was calm, level-headed... The expression on Will’s face nearly pushed Eleanor over the edge, and her attempts to keep her energy levels down became a serious fight.
“Conlan understands violence, Eleanor; in fact, it’s pretty much all he understands. What he allowed them to do to you was not acceptable, so we made that clear in a way he understands.”
“Will, he trusts you. He didn’t do anything wrong. How could you do that to him? If you tell him his actions are wrong he’ll believe you. How can you let him think that he deserves to be punished for believing in me?”
“He let them hurt you; he
could have come up with a better plan,” Will said calmly.
“So you violently assaulted him to get your point across? You took a battered, emotionally fragile man who looks to you, his friends, to set an example – and you brutalised him? What does that teach him? How does that do anything other than compound his belief that you solve problems with your fists? How could you betray him like that?! I expected better from you, Will.”
Disgusted, Eleanor turned to leave and found Conlan stood in the doorway. His expression was emotionally shutdown – closed, empty, blank – but the devastation and uncertainty in his eyes brought a lump to Eleanor’s throat. She flinched as his emotional pain battered against her.
“I’m sorry they did that to you, they were wrong,” she whispered.
“You promised not to tell her,” Freddie accused in a thick, emotional voice.
Conlan dropped his head. Eleanor felt his shame wash over her, and instant white-hot rage made her energy level rocket. Deep inside her something snapped. She span round, pulled energy from the earth and started releasing it.
As she blasted away, Eleanor yelled. “Freddie, you might be a total moron, but I’m not!” One of the bedside tables shattered into matchsticks. “Conlan told me nothing. I figured it out. It wasn’t hard.” The end of Freddie’s bed exploded, tipping it at a precarious angle, feathers filling the air. “I only know two men stupid enough to do something like that.” The bedside table on the other side of the bed joined its mate as a scattering of wood. “I love him, Freddie, in a way you couldn’t even understand.” A portion of wall next to Freddie’s head exploded out. “You don’t love me! You can’t, because if you did, you’d know that anything you did to hurt Conlan would hurt me too!” She screamed this last, exploding the ceiling down on Freddie’s head. He and Will cowered under the falling masonry.
Dirt, dust and debris filled the air. Eleanor could see sky through the hole. Her blasting session had tired her and she stopped for a moment panting, letting the dust settle. Her rage slowly receding, a cold numbness took its place. A hand rested lightly on her shoulder. Turning, she found pained green eyes. Eleanor whimpered as he inadvertently assaulted her with his tormented emotions.
“Please, Eleanor, stop,” Conlan whispered. She nodded, her energy levels dropping as her rage faded. Tears started, and not caring if he wanted to be touched or not, she wrapped her arms around Conlan and sobbed into his chest. He picked her up, carrying her as Merl had done, her head on his shoulder and putting as little pressure on her back as possible. It must have been uncomfortable for him, but he gave no indication of pain. Eleanor wrapped her arms round his neck and closed her eyes. She did not know where he was taking her, but she did not care; he was holding her, and that was all she wanted. He took her outside and then Eleanor felt them move into shade before smelling the strong scent of horses. She opened her eyes as he sat down, leaning back comfortably on the pile of clean straw at the back of Meran’s stall, Eleanor lying against him. She wriggled slightly so she was not resting against his stomach and laid the side of her face on his chest, listening to him breathe. He kept his arms wrapped around her, his cheek resting on her head. Eleanor heard movement outside the stall and smiled as Horse stuck her head round, looking at her questioningly. Horse walked into the stall, dropped to her knees next to Conlan and lay with her head on his leg, staring at him adoringly. Meran turned to look at Horse lying next to Conlan and Eleanor, and with a snort he got painfully down to his knees before laying his head against Eleanor’s leg.
Time ceased to have any meaning. Eleanor dozed, not really sleeping, not really awake, her mind blank and contented. She recognised that, for the first time, there was serenity. Conlan’s strong arms around her, listening to him breathe, feeling warm, comfortable and totally safe, she was finally able to let go and stop her mind’s perpetual churning. Horse and Meran lay next to them in quiet companionship, and Eleanor felt loved, felt the world begin to turn itself right side up again. Conlan did not speak but ran slow circles up and down her arm with light fingers, occasionally stroking her hair back from her face. Eleanor slipped into a level of bliss she had never felt before, a gentle joy. Conlan sighed, pulling her closer, and she knew he could feel how happy she was. As the day moved on outside, Eleanor ignored it, not wanting to disturb the perfect peace she had found. She did not move and hardly dared to breathe. She just wanted him to hold her forever.
She heard footsteps outside the stall. Reality, she thought with irritation as she felt Conlan’s body tense.
“Hello, Laurice, I am glad to see you are feeling better,” he said, his tone light and friendly.
“Laurice,” Eleanor said, not opening her eyes. “I am sorry about the mess I made of Freddie’s bedroom.”
“I always wanted an ‘open’ roof in that room,” Laurice said, unconcerned. Conlan chuckled and fireworks of pleasure went off in Eleanor’s head, as not only could she hear the laughter she loved, but she could also feel it as it vibrated through his chest.
“You are very understanding,” Conlan said, running gratitude and grateful thanks through the words. “Was there something we can help you with?”
“I was told I might find you here, but I was not told it would be unwise to interrupt. My apologies,” Laurice said, and Eleanor could hear the amusement in the woman’s voice. She expected Conlan to pull away from her, to deny Laurice’s implications, but instead she felt his arms tighten slightly round her body.
“We are just sharing some quiet time. Eleanor was upset. Please speak,” he said.
“I was planning on holding a celebration this evening to announce my daughter’s marriage, and I was wondering if you, Merl and your Avatars would honour us with your presence,” Laurice said.
“I cannot speak for the others, but I would be delighted to attend, thank you,” Conlan replied, and he sounded genuinely pleased with the invite.
Eleanor smiled, still not opening her eyes or moving. “Thank you for the invite, Laurice, I would love to come. What time should we be there? Actually, what time is it now?”
Laurice laughed. “It is currently just before midday. We normally eat about sunset. I will send Nials to your quarters to fetch you and I will ask Urerla to locate the rest of your group and invite them. Should she be telling them where they can find you, if they ask?” she asked slyly. Again, Eleanor expected Conlan to pull away and ask Laurice not to tell the others anything, but again he surprised her by chuckling, sending Eleanor into raptures.
“You can tell them, if they ask,” he said.
Eleanor heard Laurice walk away and smiled.
“We got invited to a party. That is so lovely of them.”
Conlan did not respond and Eleanor sighed softly, allowing herself to relax again and letting the sound of his breathing bring back the warm fuzzy feeling of tranquillity and sanctuary. There was no thought, no stress, just delightful warmth and a calm refuge.
It was many hours later when Eleanor heard footsteps again. She felt Conlan’s body tense, but his voice was gentle.
“Hello, Amelia.”
“Hi,” she replied tentatively.
From what Eleanor had heard she had tried to help Conlan, tried to point out the obvious. With that single thought, Eleanor felt all the misery and anger that her proximity to Conlan had faded into the background come back into sharp focus.
“Eleanor, are you ready to talk yet?” Conlan asked. There was no expectation in his voice. If she said no, she knew he would accept it, but she was going to have to face it sooner or later, and she did feel better, more whole and more able to deal with her hurt. She opened her eyes and sat up. Amelia was stood in the entrance to the stall. The expression on her face made Eleanor think of olive branches and sacrificial lambs. She wondered if Will and Freddie were in her head.
“Are they OK?” Eleanor asked, her guilt punching at her. “Did I hurt them?”
Amelia shrugged. “Freddie’s got some bruises and Will has a lump on his forehead from the roo
f falling on him, but given the circumstances they were lucky.”
“You should have put a shield over them,” Eleanor said, her guilt taking another swipe.
A deep, serious looked moved into Amelia’s grey eyes, and when she spoke, her voice was a cold whisper. “Merl had barely carried you out of the door when they jumped Conlan. They didn’t wait for an explanation, didn’t even ask for one. I tried to stop them, but they ignored me. I should’ve flattened them, but I was frightened of hurting Conlan further. They deserved what you did. I wouldn’t have been able to control my energy that well.”
Eleanor shook her head. “No, this is all my fault. I should have shot Freddie down far sooner and should have put more effort into explaining to Will. I knew he was angry.”
Conlan sighed. “This wasn’t your fault, Eleanor.”
She knew arguing the point was a waste of time, but that did not change the fact that she was going to make it up to him.
“Will and Freddie are really sorry,” Amelia ventured. Eleanor turned to glare at her for several heartbeats, before smoothing her expression into something a little friendlier. Amelia is the olive branch here; it’s not her fault they sent her.
“They should be,” Eleanor replied, managing to add a threatening Dwarfish growl to the English, making Conlan chuckle.
“Are you going to come back? We’re going to the party soon and you need to change. I can help you, if you like,” Amelia offered with a smile. Eleanor looked at her, bemused. Looking down at her clothes, they seemed perfectly adequate.
“Change?” she asked, and Amelia laughed.
“Eleanor, you have straw in your hair, you’re covered in dust, have blood on the back of your shirt and you smell like Horse; it’s a party! You need to have a bath and put on some clean clothes. I know you have a dress or two in the stuff Callie gave you.”
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