by Tasha Bell
“I’m going to stay with you and Kit, I will never let Matt take me, even if it means I have to live in tree and eat bloody acorns.” She said.
“Alright then” said Harper. “We’ll be outlaws. Welcome to a life of misery. We need to start walking. There were some deserters from the regiment who planned to set up a camp on the other side of the Borset Mountains, we’ll go to them. Christian and I had wanted to stay in Amvale over the winter to try and win over as many of the village men as possible and then join them in the spring when the passes had cleared, we’ll have to go to them a little early.”
“So you are planning an uprising” said Alexandra looking at the two men.
“We are planning to take back what’s ours.” Said her brother. “This vale, this whole country shouldn’t be owned by just a few people, and no man should be owned by another, we should not have been sent to die in the north while King John lounged around in some safe warm brothel in the Capital. We are going kill the highborn and give the people what should be their birth-right, the land trees and rivers of this vale.”
“Kill the highborn? You mean Viviana? The girl you’ve known since she was born? Who’s always been my friend and your friend?” Alexandra asked, staring at Kit in open-mouthed horror.
He steadily returned his sister’s gaze, his nakedness now forgotten. “If necessary, yes” he said, there was a steel in voice that Alexandra had never heard before. “The dragons are coming back to vale, and this time they will rain down fire on behalf of the people not the Lords.”
“Shut up Kit, we don’t even know if the eggs are viable. Now come on.” Said Harper. “The pass will still be open, but we don’t know how long the snows will hold off. If we’re travelling off the main roads we need to start moving this second.” He began to stride towards the distant mountain, Alexandra and Kit fell in behind him. It was funny thought Alexandra, how a settled life could change beyond all recognition in less time than it took to drink a pint of beer.
Chapter Six
Viviana left Loxley Hall early the next morning before the sun had broken over the jagged ridges of the Borset Mountains, in the cold, dawn light of the square she could see Matt Tindall overseeing the building of the scaffold on which the two captured men were to be hung later that day. She shivered as she passed, imagining Christian’s boots swinging from those dark gallows, and pulled her cloak tight over her face so the men would not recognise her. It was vital that she found her childhood friend before captain Bates did. She had no idea where he had gone, but she headed for the place where she knew the young Christian would have felt most secure, an old wooden cabin by the stream at the top of the heavily wooded valley. She and Christian had sometimes camped there before he went away, they had swam in the clear waters and caught fish, cooking them over an open fire while sitting on the mossy rocks. He had once told it was his favourite place in the whole world.
Viviana had decided that she would find Christian and then decide what she would do with herself. She knew that being highborn wouldn’t be enough to protect her once Captain Bates had sent his report to the capital. The bodies of the Dukes of the North lying in the moat at Castle Ranchester attested to how King John dealt with noble traitors.
As she approached the cabin she saw a thin trail of smoke rising from the top of the valley. When she reached the old hut, more tumble-down and ruined than she remembered, there was no sign of Christian. But there were still embers warm in the fire, and the remains of last night’s fish summer on a rock. She decided to sit and wait for him. The day grew hotter as it drew on, there was still some power in the late autumn sun, though the old men in the village had been saying for some time now that a change in the weather was on its way, they could feel it in their arthritic bones. She sat and daydreamed about the happier times they had shared in the mossy valley, she had hoped that they would return here under happier circumstances. Viviana felt she could not search the woods - calling out for Christian would just alert the others who might be looking for him.
Eventually the heat and the boredom became unbearable and she stripped off to swim in the crystal clear pool. She dived in from the overhanging bluff and gasped as the cold water closed over her head, it had been years since she’d swum here and she’d forgotten how deceptively deep the pool was. She ducked under the water and struck out, trying to reach the bottom. It got darker and colder as she went further down, and the weight of the water on her eardrums became unbearable. She’d never been able to touch the bottom of the pool all the times she’d tried. Christian had once, Viviana remembered panicking at the amount of time he’d been underwater, but then he’d burst to the surface, grinning and clutching a pebble as proof of his feat. She rose again, unsuccessful as always, and felt a shadow fall over her. Christian was standing on the bluff, his hands on his hips, staring down at her.
“Have you come to claim me back?” He called down. Viviana felt suddenly aware of her nakedness as she trod water looking up at him, she remembered the hungry look he had given her in the square when she first saw him again, and she felt gooseflesh breaking out across her skin, not entirely to do with the cold water.
“No.” She replied, swimming to the edge of the pool and climbing out, Christian’s eyes were on her back and she had to remind herself that this man was not the innocent boy who she had known all those years ago but a powerful man. “I’ve come to warn you, you’re in danger Christian.”
“Why, have you informed the magistrates of my deserting the estate?” He said, his voice dripping with cruel sarcasm.
Viviana let out an exasperated sigh. “Christian, you know I’d never do that,” she said. “I’ve told you everyone who works for me is free to go if they choose, you’re in much worse danger than any I could put you in. The army are looking for you, they say you are part of a group that is planning an uprising against the highborn, and that you’ve stolen something that belongs to them. They’ve burned down your cottage, I was ready to charge into the fire for you and all you can do is make cruel comments about my class.”
Christian laughed. “Does it scare you?” He said “That your little childhood friend is planning a revolution to get rid of you and all your type? Highborn women have always been terrified of simple men, terrified we’re going to rise up and grab them in our dirty hands, have our wicked uncultured way with them.”
“I’m not scared of you Christian.” She said, picking up her clothes and hiding her nakedness from him. “I’m scared for you. They are going to hang two men today, and they’ve sent a man called Bates to look for you.”
“Bates?” Said Christian, the mocking look fading from his eyes for the first time. “Captain Bates? Are you sure? What did he look like?”
“Tall, very handsome, dark hair and cold blue eyes, he had a moustache and was dressed in leather armour.” She replied, strangely happy to have him taking the situation seriously at last.
“Oh god, that’s him. Who has he caught? Not Harper?” A hint of panic was creeping into his voice.
“No I think he and Kit managed to get out. He found David Rawls and Chris Jenson, they’ve probably been hung by now.” She paused before continuing. “Why are you so scared of Captain Bates?” She asked.
Christian slipped his shirt over his head, once again Viviana found herself marvelling at the massed ranks of muscle on his torso, he turned his back to her, displaying the jagged map of scars that was his back. “Bates did this to me,” he said. “I had just escaped from Rawford’s dungeon. I could barely stand, I crawled for five days to our lines. Bates found me and accused me of being a Northern spy, converted during my time in captivity. He tortured me for days, burning me with hot rocks and brands, but I had nothing to confess. When I finally got him to believe me he ruled that allowing myself to be captured was a form of desertion and flayed the skin from my back in front of the other men as a punishment.”
Viviana did not know what to say, how could she console somebody who has been through an experience like that
? She wanted to wrap him her arms, to stroke his head and tell him that all was going to be alright, but she knew he wouldn’t let her, and anyway, it would be a lie.
Christian looked pained. “I have to go,” he said. “Rawls and Jenson won’t have been able to stay quiet, I’ve experienced his ways of extracting information, no one could stay silent. They’ll have told him all our plans, all our hiding places. What we plan to do.”
“Where will you go?” Asked Viviana, realising with a shock that this might be the last time she ever saw Christian, something she had never even thought of in the ten years he had been in the North fighting for King John.
“To the rebels in the Borset Mountains,” said Christian. “If you see me again you’d better run. I’ll be leading an army of free men to take back what’s ours.”
“I’m coming with you” said Viviana without even thinking about it.
“You’re a highborn,” said Christian with a laugh. “You’re our enemy, we’re going to kill all the highborn.”
“King John will kill me,” Viviana said. “I warned Kit and Harper what was happening, Captain Bates and that drunken idiot Sir Robert Herriot will tell him what I’ve done. I won’t be hung in the square like your friends, but I’ll be summoned court and then one day, maybe in a month, or maybe in year there will be poison in my wineglass or a dagger from behind the curtains. Our world might not be the same as yours Christian, but it can be just as brutal. I have no choice but to leave, I’m coming with you, you and your rebel friends can murder me if you like, if I stay here I’m dead anyway.”
Christian grimaced. “Just don’t slow me down.” he said.
***
Viviana staggered in the snow, her feet catching on an unseen rock. They had been walking towards the pass all day and Christian had barely said a word to her, barely acknowledged her presence. Sometimes when she was walking ahead she would feel his eyes upon her, she had fallen asleep after lunch, a chicken stolen from a local barn and roasted over a makeshift campfire, and when she awoke she had found him standing over her, but apart from brief exchanges about directions they journeyed in silence. The air grew thinner as they climbed. For the last few hours it had been snowing heavily and Viviana could feel her fingers and toes sliding into a deadly numbness.
“We’re not going to make it over the pass.” She shouted to him over the blizzard. “The snow is too strong, I can’t see the path. We’re going to end up falling down a canyon or lost with frostbite. We should head back to that last lodge and wait it out for a few days.”
That afternoon they had passed a lodge just below the treeline where the scrubby forest gave way to bare mountain top. Viviana had traded her fine antique necklace, a locket with a picture of her mother and father painted in miniature inside, for some thick furs they could wear to cross the treacherous pass. She was certain the necklace was worth far more than the old hides, maybe the owner would put them up with food and board for a few days in return for her generosity.
Christian brought his face close to hers, making sure he could be heard over the noise of the wind and the thick furs Viviana wore over her ears. “If we wait a few days the pass will close and we’ll be stuck on this side until the spring.” Said Christian. “How long is the owner of that lodge going to hide us before he starts talking? If we want to avoid being caught by Bates and his men we need to get over that pass tonight.”
Viviana said nothing, the light was fading fast and the white of the icy cliffs illuminated everything, creating a gloomy drawn-out twilight, she could feel the ghosts of all the travellers who had died in the pass swirling around her in the blizzard. The snow stung her eyes as it whipped into her face, half blinding her, there was no way they could carry on.
“Christian listen to me. If we carry on walking in this weather we’re both going to die tonight. This isn’t a stroll through the fields of The Vale, this is a mountain top, there are cliffs on both sides of us, and we need to wait for the blizzard to stop.” She paused hoping her point would sink in. “What use are you to the rebellion as a frozen corpse in the bottom of some ravine?” She said.
“Fine.” Said Christian. He walked over to a snow drift and began hacking at it viciously with his stick.
“What are you doing?” asked Viviana surprised and scared by the ferocity of his actions.
He knelt down and starting heaving away the loosened snow. “I’m building a snow-cave. I did learn some things from my time in the north,” he said. “We can wait for the storm to blow out and then carry on in the morning without losing any ground.”
Viviana watched him work, amazed at the raw power in his movements, after an hour he had dug a small tunnel that sloped upwards into the snow drift. Viviana occasionally saw his hands emerge as he pushed out more snow which she kicked away down the mountainside. She was starting to shiver even through her thick furs and she couldn’t feel either of her feet. After what seemed like an eternity she heard Christian shout, “Come inside.” And she bent down to climb through the narrow tunnel. Ahead it was pitch black, but she saw Christian’s face illuminated as he struck his tinder. He was crouched on a small outcrop of rock trying to build a fire with the bundle of sticks he carried on his back. Above him a small dome of packed snow curved on top of the icy walls.
“We’ll suffocate if you light that.” Said Viviana with alarm.
“I’ve drilled a vent hole up to the top of the drift,” said Christian waving hand at the roof. “And we won’t even get wet because any snow that melts will run down the sides of cave and away in this channel,” he gestured towards a small gutter he had carved in the floor around the large rock. “We’ll be up here completely warm and dry while the blizzard blows out there.” He beamed at her. For the first time since he had come back from the wars Viviana recognised the Christian she used to know, all those years locked in a dungeon and killing in the name of King John had not completely destroyed his spirit of adventure and his pride in a job well done. It almost broke her heart to see the small excitable boy she had known and loved staring out his severe manly face.
Christian fussed around the fire, trying to perfectly position the leather sack he carried at all times in a place where it would not be touched by the melt water, nor get too cold away from the fire. He moved it around with the delicate tenderness of a mother caring for her children. When he had finally found a space for the bag he gave a contented nod and sat himself next to it.
Viviana settled herself next to the now blazing fire, the space was small and she had to sit close Christian. He had shuffled over to allow her onto the rock, saying nothing and staring into the flames, the joy had faded from his eyes once the building was finished and the fire lit and he had once more settled into moody introspection. Inside the small cave Viviana could not hear the wind outside, the walls were thick-packed and beginning to shimmer with melt-water that trickled down the channel Christian had carved. They had both taken off their fur jackets and lain them on the rock underneath for comfort. Viviana was still wearing her thick trousers and fur vest but Christian had removed his to better cope with the heat coming from their fire. She looked at his long muscular brown legs, and thought of all the miles they must have marched, the horrific places they must have taken him since he had left The Vale. It was ridiculous for her to have expected him to remain the same person she had once known.
She felt strange sitting next to him. The situation reminded her of when they used to sit under her thick bed sheets in the winter, telling each other scary stories and seeing who could terrify the other the most. There was an energy about him that had never been there before, and it worried Viviana far more than any of those childish ghost stories ever had. His strength and determination almost radiated from him. It was ludicrous to think that a few outlaws and deserters high up in the mountains could overthrow the highborn and undo two-thousand years of history, but if anyone could make it happen she felt it was him. Sitting by his side feeling his masculine power she felt very small and femin
ine.
“Christian,” she said, he turned to look at her but said nothing. “I’m sorry,” she continued “I’m sorry for what you went through, what they did to you, what my people did to you.” He still said nothing. “And I’m sorry that my father owned your father, it’s not the way the world should work. It’s not fair that drunken idiots like Sir Robert Herriot can own hard working honest men just because he happened to be born to the right mother. I want to fight with you, I want to help make a new world.”
Christian leant towards her, his face just inches from hers. “Then we’re going to have to destroy the old one.” He said, and he bent forward to kiss her hard on the mouth. Viviana never knew that a kiss could carry so much passion, she was used to the limp approaches of highborn boys at society balls, their kisses had been flabby and tasted of cognac and cake, but Christian kissed her hard, as if he wanted to devour her, she couldn’t sense love in his actions, just an overwhelming desire to break her like the old-world relic he still regarded her to be.
The force of his desire pushed her head back, and at first she kept her lips pursed tight through the shock, but as Christian slid his hands up under her fur vest she opened her mouth and instinctively began to kiss him back, her mouth reacting to the warm lips as though it had no connection to her brain. Her senses felt heightened, she could taste the sweat on his upper lip, and smell the aroma of wood smoke and warm bodies that filled the snow cave. She heard the fire crackle in short burst as a pine-log took light, and pulling her head back saw Christian’s taught body bathed orange in the flickering light.
As he kissed her Viviana wondered if this was secretly what she had wanted in all those years he had been away, for him not to come back as friend but as a lover. Maybe that’s why she had never been able to truly give herself to another man, why she had acted so cold and driven them away. She tried to banish the thought from her mind, it was ridiculous, there had never been a romantic element to their friendship and she realised that if she wanted to regain the relationship they had once had she needed to break away from his embrace.