I consulted Anise.
“It is there. We can each fit, but I cannot see the other end. It could be buried like this one.”
“Let me try it.” Darnay scrambled forward and, before I could stop him, disappeared inside the tunnel. Within moments, he emerged. Black mud caked his knees and hands. “It is clear.”
Anise handed him the three packs of supplies before lifting Elise down to join him. The children moved farther into the tunnel as she climbed down to join them. She paused at the opening, waiting for me. I motioned her on before turning to Tatin.
“You are clear on what you need to do?” The covered lantern offered very little light, but I caught her nod.
“I will hide the tunnel opening and depart before your absence is discovered.”
“You have the directions Master Jarvin gave you?”
She tapped her temple. “I will be fine, my lady.”
I envied her confidence. Perhaps I had watched too many harvests fail, argued in vain with my cousin too many times, only to listen to village children cry themselves to sleep with hunger gnawing at their bellies. Too often I could only rage at my own inability to change the situation for the better.
Kurios is just. I reminded myself. He has a purpose. Orwin will receive his due. Although I clung to the truth, I could not muster even a small share of optimism to match Tatin’s innocent buoyancy.
“I will send for you when I return.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
“For what?”
“For trusting me.”
She waited until I crawled a few feet into the tunnel before replacing the cover. The fall of the dirt against the grating made my heart race. I hated enclosed spaces. Ever since the night I spent in the root cellar, locked in by Orwin, I avoided any place remotely resembling it. The musty stench of earth and moisture smothered me. I shuffled forward, feeling along the damp stone away from the sound of shifting dirt.
“My lady?” Anise’s whispered query echoed.
“Coming.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter Seventeen
The snow appeared a few hours after the last sign of Kyrenton melted into the inky darkness behind us. Lacey flakes the size of one of my fingertips drifted through the trees. The children enjoyed the sight. Elise, who rode with me, reveled in watching them dance as they fell. She caught them on her mittens and laughed as they dusted her sleeves and the blanket wrapped about her legs.
The flakes came sporadically at first, appearing when we passed through breaks in the trees. Then the snow fell heavy, wet, and fast. Limbs above the trail began to creak beneath the burden. The occasional crack of a branch giving way in the distance disrupted the muted stillness of the waiting forest.
The tense silence broken by falling boughs kept us all on edge. But Kurios was gracious and none fell on us or in our path.
I congratulated Jarvin on his choice of mounts for our journey. The horses barely flicked an ear at the abrupt noises and the tension of their riders.
“Captain Parrian chose them for us. Retired warhorses are accustomed to the chaos of battle, this is nothing to them.”
“Then, I must thank Captain Parrian and recommend him for promotion to Lord Irvaine,” I commented.
“He deserves it, if his efforts succeed.”
“What efforts?”
“He is organizing counter measures against whoever is going to attempt releasing Jorndar.” Jarvin’s mouth curled up on one side. It was the most sinister expression I had ever seen on his weathered, mild features. “He will not give in easily.”
“Then we can hope that Rolendis’ plot to free Jorndar will fail?”
“Hope and more, perhaps.”
Elise shifted against me, adjusting her head against my shoulder. The abused muscles in my back complained.
“How long do you think we should keep moving before seeking shelter?”
Jarvin glanced back along the trail. The horses left long troughs of overturned snow through the midst of the smooth white behind us. “The snow will cover our tracks at this rate, but I doubt they will have to guess at where we are headed. The question is whether or not they will bother to follow us.”
It was a question I couldn’t answer. None of us could.
“I know of a hovel near here, if you wish to stop.” Anise’s calm voice startled me. She had not spoken since we left Kyrenton behind.
“How close?” Jarvin asked.
“How do you know of it?” I tugged at my horse’s reins and waited for her to catch up. Jarvin circled back to join us.
Anise met my scrutiny in the glow of the lantern Jarvin carried. “I spent my girlhood and young adult years in this forest. I know its ways very well.” She pointed off into the dense brush. “The shack lies about a mile south. The turning is a bit farther along between a gnarled oak and a birch. It used to be a hermit’s hovel. A one-room shack with a fireplace will be better than camping out in the open in this snow.”
“They won’t expect us to stop or to leave the main trail.”
“I say we should rest there.” I jutted my chin toward the children. “I don’t like the idea of these little ones sleeping in the open.”
A tree branch cracked close by. Muffled crashing preceded the heavy thud of it hitting the ground. Jarvin’s horse tossed his head, and mine edged sideways a bit. Only Anise’s mount placidly chewed its bit.
Jarvin frowned in the direction of the sound. “It isn’t safe to stop under the trees.”
“Then we are agreed.” Anise nudged her horse into motion.
Jarvin and the lantern took the lead. Anise’s and my mounts settled into step together.
I glanced at my mother-in-law. Her hands held the reins firmly. She sat on the horse like she and the animal were one flesh. Darnay rode behind her, head resting between her shoulders, yet she showed no sign of the pain that prodded the muscles of my back. She looked younger and acted spryer than my mother ever did. Even in my earliest memories, Mother was sick and always moved with graceful caution.
“What are you wondering, my lady?” Anise asked.
I turned my head to find her dark eyes watching me.
“Have you been raising Darnay for Tomas?”
She laughed. “Hardly. Tomas insists on doing everything himself. He has demanded it from the beginning.” She focused off into the distance. “Elanawyn was a fay creature, my lady. Wild and slightly mad, she refused to be confined, hated being married, and fought Tomas every moment of their marriage.”
“Then why did he marry her?” I bit my lip. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I asked him that.” She frowned.
“And?”
“’Because no one else will,’ he said. ‘Her father used me to destroy her chances of a future. He means to abandon her and I can’t.’”
“I asked him if he loved her,” I confessed.
“He didn’t.” Anise voice was barely audible.
I glanced to where Darnay’s head rested against her back. His dark eyelashes feathered against the paleness of his cheeks.
“He sleeps,” she assured me. “I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”
We rode in silence for a ways. My back protested every step.
“You fit Tomas better.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “You haven’t even seen us together.”
“I don’t need to. Tomas needs a partner, an equal. When he rides off to fulfill his duty, he can count on you to take care of what he leaves behind. You are what he needs.”
But am I what he wants? The thought annoyed me more than it should have. I knew from the beginning our marriage wasn’t a love match, but still…
“What did he tell you about me?”
“Only what he thought I needed to know and nothing I didn’t already know. I remember you.”
I swung to face her in my surprise, startling Elise into half-wakefulness. It took me a few moments to settle her again.
“I trave
led through your village a decade back. I came back to the area because my brother died and left me a small legacy, some land, a house, and a pittance of a savings. It was small, but I needed all I could get. Tomas had just entered the service of Lord Firorian then, and I didn’t want to bother him for funds.
“I passed through Kyrenton after my brief encounter with Jorndar and his sire over the money. Your father left word that any healer passing through who could heal his wife would be generously compensated. So, I went to Wisenvale and attended your mother. She suffered from a barren womb and unnatural bleeding, if I recall correctly.”
I nodded. Vague memories of a wiry woman with black hair, kind eyes, and a sharp tongue drifted into focus. “You recommended an herbal draft and no more attempts at pregnancy.”
Anise nodded. “I suspected tumors and guessed she would last a few months. How long did she linger?”
My chest grew heavy with the memory of those months. “She lasted two years. No one told me that she was dying.”
“I had hoped that the herbs helped. I am glad to hear she lasted longer than I predicted. I told your father my diagnosis. Your mother knew before I examined her.”
“Then why did my father keep seeking healers?”
“Hope and love. It keeps us seeking answers after all chances have been exhausted. He didn’t want her to leave him.”
“She didn’t want to leave him.” Mother wasted away before our eyes over those last few months. The fire of her personality kept her breathing the last week. Her bright eyes were the only sign of life in a body surrendering to death.
“She didn’t want to leave either of you. The whole time I examined her, she spoke of you. ‘My flame-haired beauty’ she called you. When I told her I didn’t think any more children were in her future, she feared you would pay the greatest cost.”
I blinked back tears. “She and Father already knew what a louse Orwin was becoming. They brought him into our home a week after you left. In retrospect, I suspect Father was attempting to redeem him from the bad habits instilled by my aunt over the years.”
“It was a commendable goal, though futile in this instance.”
I agreed despite the horrible memories formed in those years. Orwin’s introduction into my family forced me to grow up, face the future, and realize that my idyllic childhood would not last forever. Seeking to reform Orwin’s character was the only remaining thing my father could have done to improve the future of his people. It made sense in hindsight, but had been horrible to endure.
My one comfort after Mother’s passing was Loren. The memory of her laughing features after I proved once again my inability to dance made my chest ache. Would she be able to laugh after this ordeal? Would she survive? Orwin possessed a great capacity for cruelty. Loren scorned him in the past and he tended to repay offenses, real or imagined, tenfold. A sob pressed against the back of my throat.
“Is this the turning?” Jarvin waited beside a great gnarled oak. A birch grew a few feet beyond. Between them, a snow-softened gully ran south. Only visible when viewed from one angle, the path disappeared with only a slight variation in either direction.
Anise glanced at the trees. “Yes, that is it. The trail grows less clear farther along. Do you want me to take the lead?”
Jarvin handed the lantern to her. I followed and he brought up the rear.
The rest of our journey was filled with silence. I turned my attention to the forest around us seeking distraction. An owl snared a rabbit. Occasional movement hinted at life beyond our party, but nothing engaging enough to keep my thoughts from Loren. In an effort to not dwell on the dismal possibilities of her fate, I pushed my thoughts to Tomas.
He had turned out very different than I expected. After meeting Anise, I could see where he gained his strength, calm, and uncanny ability to read people. And after a childhood of having to prove his worth despite the circumstances of his birth, I understood why he worked so hard. Of course, hard work alone hadn’t kept him alive on the battlefield.
Anise forged ahead, her bobbing lantern a lonely bright spot in the darkness. She was competent and capable, but I saw no indication of the unusual coordination necessary in a great warrior. Heart, yes, but balance and dexterity, no. He must have gained those from his father.
What if he died? My chest constricted involuntarily. Men died on the battlefield every day. But not Tomas, my heart cried. My thoughts tumbled onward despite the plea, following through on the original thought.
What would happen to me? What would happen to my village? The people of Kyrenton would fare well, perhaps, regardless of who their master was, but Wisenvale wouldn’t. What would I do if Jorndar succeeded in becoming our master?
I shuddered.
What if the king died? Jorndar’s plot to kill the king could plunge the whole country into another civil war. I held no illusions that Jorndar possessed the intelligence to hold the reins of power. He did not command the respect necessary for a leader. Schemes and bribery went only so far. He could not bribe a man into dying for him, let alone an army. Men needed something to believe in before they would pick up arms and fight.
Should the plot succeed, chaos would tear Rhynan apart.
No. I couldn’t think that way. I hoped Kurios would not test me in that way. I lapsed into prayer, pleading for all of our sakes that Tomas would live and Jorndar would not succeed in his coup.
Just as I was pulling my mind free from its worries, the cabin appeared. Split logs, thatched roof, and chimney, it promised exactly what Anise predicted. We woke the children and handed them down to Jarvin. The movements of dismounting made me ache in ways I hadn’t thought possible. I didn’t realize I had groaned until Anise appeared at my side and placed a firm hand on my back.
“Relax, ease back slowly.”
I obeyed as she applied pressure to my lower back.
“I have a salve that will help those muscles relax and ease the pain a bit. Tomorrow, Jarvin and I will ride with the children. Your back needs time to strengthen.”
I reached for the saddlebags, but she stopped me. “Let Jarvin get them. We need to settle the children.”
By the time we entered, Jarvin had a blaze going in the fireplace.
“Someone keeps this place well stocked. There was dry firewood under the back eaves. Do you visit here often, Anise?”
“I used to pass through once a year. Now more time passes between visits. I always replace the firewood I use before I leave.”
Jarvin nodded before tramping back out into the snow to tend to the horses.
I silently agreed with Jarvin. The heat from the fire warmed the small room quickly. Jarvin returned with the saddlebags and we passed around blankets. There was barely room enough for all of us to lie on the dirt floor, but we managed. The children fell asleep almost the moment they lay down. Anise grew still and Jarvin began snoring. I adjusted my head on the saddlebag I used as a pillow and prayed for sleep to come swiftly. When it did, it wasn’t restful.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter Eighteen
My dreams tormented me. I watched in growing horror as Tomas died time after time. By sword, crossbow, and knife, the methods grew ever more grotesque. Each time, I watched helplessly as the life flickered and died in his inky, black eyes. My heart screamed silently. I clung to his hand as it grew cold and limp. Then only the shell of his body was left. His spirit, soul, all that I truly liked about him slipped away. I was alone again.
Each dream ended the same way, with me kneeling over Tomas. I was alone and dry-eyed, unable to cry in the midst of a corpse-strewn battlefield, while Orwin’s disembodied voice demanded to know how it felt to watch him die. “Does it hurt?”
I woke to the sensation of drowning. I scrambled into the sitting position, gasping for air. My heart raced. Unshed tears burned my eyes and a hard lump blocked the back of my throat. Nerves raw with the grief, I gained my feet and stumbled for the door, narrowly missing Darnay’s out-flung hand on the floor above his head
. In my efforts to keep my balance, I tumbled outside. The door swung closed behind me as I landed on my back in the snow.
Cold sluiced through the fabric of my tunic as the snow soaked to my skin. Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to move. My breath came out in a rushing sob.
Oh, Kurios, have mercy!
My tears fell hot and fast, sobs ripping through me with frightening force.
Suddenly someone was there. Strong hands pulled me from the ground and arms pulled me close.
“Hush!” I recognized Jarvin’s voice.
Unable to fight to be free, I let him hold me. My heart wanted Tomas. Just to touch him. Reassure myself that he was still alive.
“Let it out. It helps at times.”
“No.” I fought for control. “No. I know the dream is wrong.”
“Dream?” He drew back, finding my face among my wild half-damp hair. “Whatever did you dream about?”
“Tomas.” My breath caught. I closed my eyes against the images, but it only made them return. I opened my eyes again. “Repeatedly dying on the battlefield.”
“They were only dreams.” Jarvin’s steady blue eyes studied mine as he held my shoulders between his palms.
“I know. But…”
“They were so real.” Understanding softened his stare. He dropped his hands and stepped back. “At times I dream of the battle when I gained this.” He smacked his damaged thigh. “The agony flares up so I swear the wound is ripped open and raw once again. But then dawn comes and the pain goes away.” He smiled wanly. “Give it time.”
I tried. Still the sense something terrible was going to happen and might have already occurred continued to press me. It urged my steps and hurried every movement. By noon, my impatience with our progress annoyed even Anise.
“Do you intend to burn our meal?” She pulled the spit from my hand. “You have it too close to the fire. Burned food will not get us there any quicker.” She propped the stick-speared rabbits a short distance from the fire and began rotating them slowly. “Now what is bothering you so?”
Duty: a novel of Rhynan Page 13