"Enjoy your walk, dear," Ailynn said, heading back towards the kitchen.
Kyros left the house, stepping outside. He immediately frowned at the snow falling all around him. It was coming down lightly, and the ground was only covered with a bare coating of it, but the clouds were dark and heavy. Unless they blew over, Ourenville was due for a storm, which meant a lot of snow and, if he was unlucky, Jallen and Ambry being significantly delayed.
He couldn't worry about the weather now, though. He had too much else to worry about. He couldn't control the weather.
Jallen and Ambry should show up in five or six days, and Kyros could sort out then whether it was safe to stay the additional week. Hopefully, if it was safe enough—relatively, anyway—to stay, the weather would hold off for the extra week until the solstice festival.
Worst case, Kyros would give Raslin the puzzle box and give himself up to the council. Raslin would take care of Ailynn and himself, and the council would have no need to harm either of them if they had Kyros.
*~*~*
Kyros stepped into the house, pausing a moment to brush as much snow as he could from his jacket before shutting the door behind him. Raslin raised a hand in greeting, settled at the kitchen table with a plate of food. Kyros shucked his jacket, hanging it by the door before crossing the house to join him.
"Ailynn's off at Theri's with the wash," Raslin said before Kyros could ask. "She mentioned you wanted to help with gathering firewood?"
Kyros nodded, sitting down heavily in the chair next to Raslin. "Might as well work while I'm here."
"All right," Raslin said. "Do you mind if we use your horse?
MacRaflin's old mare died last spring, so we've been stuck using just the one cart."
"Sure. I think she's done cart-work before," Kyros said, shrugging. One day of work wouldn't tire her out if he and Ailynn needed to make a swift departure.
"Great," Raslin said, flashing a smile. "That will make dragging everything back to the village much simpler. Did you talk to Ailynn about when you're leaving?"
"Yes," Kyros said, surprised Ailynn hadn't told Raslin that, since they'd obviously spoken while Kyros was out for his walk.
He still wasn't completely sure about waiting until after the solstice festival to leave, but at least he had a few contingency plans in mind if the council's men showed up before Jallen and Ambry. "She wants to stay for the solstice festival."
"And you're all right with that?" Raslin asked, his eyes widening in surprise. "I thought it was imperative you leave in a week."
"I'd prefer that," Kyros said, shrugging tiredly. "But she's adamant about staying for the festival. If it turns out it's not safe, we'll leave sooner."
"How will you know it's not safe?" Raslin asked, ignoring his food to completely focus on Kyros. "Do you want me to talk to her?"
"No, it's fine," Kyros said, shaking his head. Ailynn wouldn't take well to that. She was set on attending the festival, and nothing he or Raslin said would make her any less stubborn.
"Jallen and Ambry will be here by the week's end; they'll be able to tell me whether it's safe enough to stay for the extra week."
Raslin nodded, not looking particularly convinced, but he went back to clearing his plate. Kyros watched him for a moment before tilting back in his chair and turning his attention to the stove. The wine was still warming by the fire, but the soup Ailynn had put together wasn't warm enough to boil yet.
The house smelled of a mix of cinnamon and the more savory scents of the soup, and Kyros wished that he could ignore the problems in Alesdor and just stay home forever.
"You should get a bite to eat before we go," Raslin said, standing up to put his dishes in the washbasin. "We're getting the heavier parts of the trees this afternoon."
"I ate before I went out," Kyros said, sitting up with a thud as the front legs of the chair hit the ground heavily. "I'll be fine."
"You good to go, then?" Raslin asked, not waiting for an answer as he headed for the door. Kyros stood and followed him, pulling on his jacket again.
They stopped by the stable first, where Kyros was re-introduced to MacRaflin, who, unlike his wife, didn't seem to care in the least that Kyros was freshly returned from the capital. She hovered in the doorway as Kyros, Raslin, and her husband hitched Kyros' horse to the cart. Kyros gave her a wave, wondering if he could get out of the chat she obviously still wanted to have.
Probably not, since his horse was housed in her husband's stable.
With Kyros and his horse, the group gathering firewood had two carts at their disposal. They split into two groups; Kyros, Raslin, and MacRaflin in one, and the other three men in the wood-gathering party made up the other. MacRaflin kept up his silent, gruff demeanor, which Kyros vaguely remembered was normal for him.
The forest was cold and quiet, almost eerie as snow continued to fall quietly down on them through the trees and the dark gray clouds blocked out any hint of the sun. The tree they were hauling back to the village was monstrous; it was thick enough that Kyros wouldn't have been able to wrap his arms around it were it still standing. It had to have been dead before it fell, since Kyros didn't think a tree that size would have fallen otherwise.
"You haul, we'll chop," Raslin directed, shucking his jacket and draping it over the side of the cart. Kyros almost protested, but then decided against it. He could always swap places with Raslin or MacRaflin later.
Raslin and MacRaflin set to chopping with a vengeance, and Kyros was kept busy hauling chunks of wood to the cart. It was difficult work, especially given that Raslin and MacRaflin were chopping pieces of wood in unreasonably large sizes. The forest floor didn't help; it was coated in dead leaves and snow, a mess that rapidly became slush and slippery wet leaves as he trekked back and forth between the tree and the cart.
Kyros' arms and back were aching by the time the cart was full, and they weren't through even a quarter of the tree yet. His coat had joined Raslin's, draped over the side of the cart, and they were both pinned in place by the stacks of wood Kyros had added to the cart.
"You two take it in and unload," MacRaflin said, wiping sweat from his brow. He hadn't bothered to wear a jacket in the first place, but he was about the size of Raslin and Kyros put together; with that bulk, Kyros doubted he'd felt the cold, even before they'd begun working. "I'll keep chopping while you're gone."
Raslin nodded his agreement, waving for Kyros to take the driver's seat on the cart. Kyros climbed up, grateful for the brief respite. Raslin settled beside him, stretching his arms and shoulders out as Kyros guided the horse into motion.
"MacRaflin and I can finish it, if you want to visit with your mother," Raslin said a few moments later, sprawled haphazardly across the bench. His knee brushed against the side of Kyros' leg with every bump in the forest path, and Kyros was trying his best to ignore the accidental touch.
"I'm not going to give up one load in," Kyros said, snorting because Raslin was utterly transparent.
"I didn't say you were giving up," Raslin said, grinning cheerfully. "Just that you're a city boy now; you might not be able to handle all that carrying."
Kyros scoffed, shoving Raslin, who squawked and barely caught himself before he tumbled out of the cart. "What are you, an egg-laying chicken?"
Raslin laughed and shoved him back. The horse didn't falter, even at the tomfoolery behind her.
"An egg-laying chicken? That's the best you could come up with?" Raslin asked, settling back into his seat. He gave Kyros a side-eyed look.
"You certainly sounded like you were laying an egg," Kyros said nonchalantly, but his grin gave him away. He hadn't joked with someone like this in years, and even with five years apart, being around Raslin was easy.
"I sounded like I was falling off a cart," Raslin said, kicking Kyros' boot, "because someone was trying to get rid of me.
Actually, wait, push me off the cart. Then I don't have to unload any of this."
"You're not getting out of it that easily," Kyros s
aid, making a face. "I loaded this by myself; you get to help unload it."
"I chopped it."
"You chopped half of it, if that. I think MacRaflin's better with an axe than you are."
"Well, he has handled one for much longer," Raslin conceded, leaning back and kicking his feet up on the baseboard in front of them, a somewhat precarious perch given the thinness of the wood.
"So you admit you slacked," Kyros said, nodding sagely.
"You should unload the entire cart, then, to make up for it."
"Hah," Raslin said, yawning. "I'll unload it on your head."
"That was witty," Kyros said dryly, squinting up at the sky again. It was hard to tell through the trees how much snow had fallen so far, but it was enough that he was getting worried about the weather again. "How long do you think it will snow?"
"A few days, probably," Raslin said, shrugging. He mirrored Kyros' movement, looking up at the sky curiously. "The clouds don't seem to be moving very quickly, and they're dark enough to dump a lot of snow. Do you think that will interfere with your … compatriots?"
"Probably," Kyros said, frowning. "Nothing to do for it, though."
"Mmm." Raslin sat up, setting his feet down on the cart floor. "If you know what direction they're coming from, we could send someone out to meet them."
"Not worth it, especially in this snow. I assume they're coming the same way I did, but there's no telling for sure, especially if they run into any of the council's men and have to adjust their path because of it," Kyros said. "They'll get here when they get here, and nothing is going to speed that up."
Raslin nodded, settling back in his seat. They lapsed into silence, and Kyros regretted bringing up the weather at all.
Raslin didn't seem upset or pensive, though, and Kyros decided that the silence wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
They broke free of the trees a few moments later, and Kyros was dismayed to see how much snow had accumulated. It would reach to his ankle were he on the ground, and it was still falling steadily. He had no doubt it would delay Jallen and Ambry, but it would also make moving the chopped wood an exercise in danger.
"Where are we headed with this?" Kyros asked, breaking the silence. The snow made everything in the village seem quieter as well, Kyros thought.
"Center of town. The square," Raslin directed. Kyros really should have sorted that out himself; the solstice festival was always held in the center of town—where else would they keep the wood for the bonfire? "I think Ailynn wanted to help put up decorations tomorrow, though that might be delayed a few days because of the snow."
"Probably for the best," Kyros said, glancing up at the sky again. "I can't imagine putting up decorations in this mess, especially since the snow will accumulate overnight and make it that much worse."
"You could probably take some time to see a few people around the village," Raslin suggested as they finally reached the houses on the outskirts of the village. "A bunch of people asked after you."
"Who?" Kyros asked, following Raslin's gaze. He was watching a woman dressed in a heavy cloak against the cold.
Her hood was up, obscuring her face, but she waved at them.
Kyros waved back, to be friendly, but Raslin didn't move a muscle.
"Gira, for one," Raslin said, gesturing towards the woman.
He didn't sound particularly thrilled by that suggestion, but then, he hadn't waved at her, either. "She's been pining after you ever since you left."
"Gira?" Kyros repeated, drawing a blank. Raslin laughed, shaking his head. He looked pleased that Kyros didn't remember who she was.
"Gira Decori? Theri and Hallin's daughter?" Raslin prompted, and Kyros furrowed his brow in thought.
"Wasn't she ten when I left?" Kyros asked, because the woman they'd passed most certainly hadn't looked fifteen. "She was the one who followed us around, right? The one we told to meet us by the pond like, six times before she realized we were never going to meet her there?"
"She was thirteen," Raslin said, laughing again as Kyros guided the cart to a stop in the middle of the square, near a snow-covered pile of wood. "And yes, that's her."
"Is she any less annoying now?" Kyros asked, looping the reins around a hook in the back of the baseboard of the cart.
"Only more. She's looking for a husband, but won't take any of the village boys," Raslin said, rolling his eyes.
"Ugh," Kyros said. He grimaced and made a note to avoid Gira as much as possible. "One of them would do her better than I would."
"Tell her that," Raslin said, and Kyros shook his head.
"I'd rather keep my distance, thank you," Kyros said, heading around to the back of the cart. Raslin followed suit, and Kyros clambered up into the cart to hand the wood down to Raslin. Kyros noted a few people wander through the clearing as they worked, obviously out on errands of their own. Thankfully, aside from a greeting here and there, he and Raslin were left alone to work.
It took a quarter as long to unload the cart as it had to load it, and then they were headed back to the forest, much to Kyros' chagrin. The snow kept falling steadily, and Kyros hoped like hell they would be able to get all the wood back to the village before the path became too snow-covered for the cart or his horse to handle.
"About time," MacRaflin greeted, leaning on his axe comfortably. He'd chopped a good deal more off the fallen tree while they'd been gone, Kyros noted, but he didn't seem at all tired.
"Raslin wouldn't stop chattering," Kyros said cheerfully.
"Slowed us down."
MacRaflin let out a loud guffaw. "Is that so?"
"Kyros wants to take a turn at chopping," Raslin said, and patted Kyros on the back firmly enough that Kyros had to take a quick step forward to keep his balance. "I'll get started loading this."
"Thanks," Kyros said dryly, but he didn't try to get out of it.
Picking up the second axe, he approached the tree trunk, following MacRaflin's directions on where to chop to keep from getting in MacRaflin's way. It was tiring work, but almost fun when he got into the rhythm of swinging the axe. Raslin kept smirking at him as he hauled wood to the cart, and Kyros took great pains to wish him splinters in creative ways. MacRaflin mostly ignored them, occasionally guffawing at one or another of Kyros' splinter curses.
It was growing dark outside by the time they filled the cart a fourth time; Kyros' arms and legs were numb and he was pretty sure he'd sprained every muscle in his back. He was also ready to fall over and sleep for a week, but the ache felt good. Raslin seemed to be fine, annoyingly enough, but Kyros conceded that Raslin was far more used to hard labor than Kyros, no matter how Kyros liked to pretend he was still a village boy.
MacRaflin helped them unload the cart, then shooed them off, promising to take good care of Kyros' horse. Kyros was more than willing to let MacRaflin take care of the horse and cart so he could go collapse. Eat, and then collapse, because he was hungry enough to eat the entire pot of soup he knew was waiting for them.
Raslin fell into step beside him, their jackets slung together over his arm. The snow was still falling around them, and there was no one outside. It was comfortable and easy, and Kyros fought a surge of homesickness. He was home, even if it was for the last time, even if he wasn't going to see Raslin again. Kyros couldn't ask Raslin to join him; Raslin had made it clear that he thought Kyros was stupid for going back.
He could ask Raslin to go with his mother, but that would be tearing Raslin away from his sister and any children she might have, and for what? To be there for Kyros' mother when she heard that he'd been caught and executed? It wasn't as though Kyros thought he'd have the chance to visit Ailynn after she'd settled on the coast. Kyros sighed quietly, then glanced at Raslin, only to find Raslin was watching him.
"You all right?" Raslin asked quietly, stopping a few feet from Ailynn's house.
"I'm tired," Kyros admitted, more seriously than he'd meant to say it. He was tired, more than the physical work of the afternoon really accounted for. "R
aslin."
"Yeah?" Raslin asked. Kyros stared at him, wondering when Raslin had gotten so close; there was barely a foot of space between them.
"Can I ask you to do something for me?" Kyros asked, keeping his voice low despite that there was no one around to hear them.
"Ask away," Raslin said, his quick smile showing off his dimples briefly.
"I need you to take care of my mother if anything happens,"
Kyros said, wishing he didn't have to say it. Between the snow and Ailynn's insistence that she stay an extra week in Ourenville, however, the possibility was too strong that the council's men would catch up to him here, before he was able to get Ailynn to safety.
"That was never in question," Raslin said, glancing briefly towards the house. "Ailynn is like a mother to me, Kyr. I wouldn't let anything happen to her."
"Thank you," Kyros said quietly. His heart picked up its pace as he stared up at Raslin, stupidly wondering if that meant Raslin thought of him as a brother.
"I'd do the same for you," Raslin said quietly, reaching out and running the side of his thumb over Kyros' cheek in a light caress. "All you have to do is ask."
Kyros swallowed hard, managing a nod. Raslin smiled sadly, then abruptly reached up and brushed the snow that had settled on his head towards Kyros, grinning when Kyros stumbled back a step in surprise. "Come on, Ailynn will have dinner for us."
"Right," Kyros said. He shook the snow from his hair, firmly biting back the words to ask Raslin to look after him, too. He couldn't ask that of Raslin. Kyros had gotten himself into this mess, and he'd get himself out, no matter how much he wanted to lean on someone else.
Part Two
Raslin kept thinking he was dreaming, every morning he woke up with Kyros in his bed. It was a pleasant fantasy, believing for a few moments that Kyros had come home because he'd found he couldn't live without Raslin in his life.
Unfortunately, their friendship had never been more than that, and it only took a moment for Raslin to give up on even pretending otherwise and climb from bed, leaving Kyros to sleep in.
What Matters Most Page 5