Garrett’s gaze lay firmly in the flame. “Rellen…” he murmured. “I would have thought he told you everything.”
“Surely not everything. But if nothing comes to mind, you could always tell me of yourself.”
Garrett shifted in the rain-softened grass. “Of Rellen, there is much. You know about his mischief as a boy. You know about Gryphon, his mother, Marlos and Bruced, and how much he longs to be free of Emun’s yoke.”
“The yoke part especially,” she laughed.
He gazed through the fire at her. “In that case, I will tell you about Ardenn.”
“Ardenn,” she said the name with no small sense of awe. “Where the barbarians live.”
“The Yrul.” He nodded. “Skins of stone, they say. Women with hair much like your own. The Yrul are said to covet our lands, though I cannot say whether it is true. They live where it is always cold, where the wolves are always howling. Ardenn has stood for two-hundred years, guarding Graehelm against the Yrul and the Romaldarians.”
“The Romaldarians?” She knitted her brow. “Rellen never said much about them.”
“Folk from the far south and west,” Garrett said with great seriousness. “Romaldar is a land of vineyards, lakes, and castles older than any in Graehelm. It is beautiful, I admit, but always in a state of turmoil.”
“And Rellen helped keep them away from Ardenn?”
“When the Councilor of Ardenn died, Emun sent Rellen and me straightaway. Rellen managed it flawlessly. You might look at him and say it is impossible. I thought the same, but he proved us wrong. He kept the Yrul at bay, won a skirmish against the Romaldarians, and bargained for a truce between the three. Not bad for a boy of twenty and a few.”
“And where were you during all of this?” She sipped from her cup, gazing over the campfire at him.
His mind seemed to go briefly elsewhere. “Not everyone was happy we were there. I did what needed doing to keep us safe.”
“Did you…kill people?”
“A few.” He stared through the fire. “A hundred men slain today might save a thousand murdered tomorrow, or so they used to tell me. I cannot say whether it is true.”
She knew better than to ask him more. Catching the shadow in his eyes, she retreated into topics less serious, and he did not remain grim for long. She chatted with him for least an hour more, until at last the starlight pierced tiny holes in the fabric of the clouds above. As the campfire died and the clouds began to clear, she climbed into her tent and fell asleep.
She dreamed nothing of fire, ash, or falling, but only of the rain.
Whispers from the West
Six days upon the hilltop outside Tratec, and there were no inns, towers, or soft beds for Andelusia. Her pillow was the earth, her wine the rain, and her ceiling the open sky.
Day after day, eve after eve, she had become more and more comfortable with existing outdoors. Whenever Garrett journeyed to search for rumors of the Three Lords, he left her to her own devices, and she savored her new freedom. Velum was lush, more so than even Grandwood, its wilderness ripe with places to explore. She took to the deep woods as often as possible, rain or shine, cool or warm. She gathered handfuls of splendorous flowers, drank from hidden streams, and climbed her way to the tops of lofty hills, where she sat like a queen, dirty and tired and as happy as a songbird. Every evening, she slipped back to the camp to meet Garrett, who returned at the same time each night, and whose mood was always to her liking.
Her seventh eve since arriving in Mormist, and after a long day of wandering the woods she clambered up her familiar hill only to find the camp quiet and empty. No fire lived in the little ring of rocks, and no sounds of Garrett whetting his blades rang out. The mist was heavier than usual, the air so thick and humid she could taste it. She searched hither and to, but her camp-mate was nowhere to be found. The rain kept him, she assured herself with a smile.
He will be back, and soon.
She settled into camp. She tried to kindle a fire, but conjured only a wet, smoking mess of brush and sticks, hardly enough to cook by. Undaunted, she settled for a supper of cold stew, hard bread, and the last of the cider Garrett had bought for her. It was unsatisfying fare, but enough to fill her belly.
An hour later, and still Garrett had not arrived.
The darkness deepened and the lights from Tratec began to wink out one by one. Her mind wandered to Gryphon Keep, and to Rellen, whose arms I wish were around me.
For a time she sat in the grass and dreamed of all that was, but after a while longer without any sign of Garrett, she grew restless. Where is he? He would not leave me overnight, would he?
The night grew ever darker. The last of Tratec’s lights faded to black, and neither moon nor stars peeked out to greet her. Deciding she was fated to spend the night alone, she plucked Garrett’s lantern from beside his tent and struck it to life. Now seemed as good a time as any to take a bath, she reckoned, now in the dark when no one would see her. Swift as a night owl, she slipped to the bottom of the hill and gathered a bit of water from a nearby stream, filling three skins and a decanter to their brims. Gliding back up into camp, she casually stripped away her boots, leggings, and shirt. The night’s breeze felt refreshing against her nakedness. The air was cool but not cold, and the lantern light just enough to see by. She kicked her soiled clothing aside and made a shower for herself, pouring the water down her skin and scrubbing away the dirt with a strip of cloth scavenged from her tent. She shivered as the cold water sluiced down her arms, her belly, and her legs. She splashed and washed, scrubbed and sang, cleaning every nook on her body, stopping almost accidentally to admire the way the water ran down her perfect skin.
So lost in her reverie, she failed to notice when Garrett arrived. He trudged into the far side of the camp, halting when he heard her music. She heard nothing. Unaware of the lantern light gleaming so revealingly against her skin, she tipped the final waterskin and rained its last drops down upon herself. As the water dripped and she knelt to pick up her clothes, she glimpsed him standing at camp’s edge. “Oh!” she yelped upon seeing him, making only a half-effort to hide herself. “Sorry… I did not see you.”
She swore she saw the heat rising in his neck. “I should be sorry,” he said. “You were lost in your head. You did not hear me. The mountains might have crumbled and you would not have known.”
She slid back into her clothes, feigning modesty in doing it quickly. That Garrett had glimpsed her naked hardly bothered her. “You probably see plenty of maidens.” She pretended to be shy. “One more will not bother you.”
“Not so many as you might think.”
“Do not be embarrassed.” She slid her shirt over her shoulders. “It is only skin. Pale skin at that.”
He exhaled and knelt before his tent. With his back to her, he set his sword, dagger, and armor aside. She plunked down not far away. Squeezing the water from her hair, she smiled secretly at his bashfulness. “Is everything well?” she asked.
“A tiring day, today.” He looked in every direction but hers. “Not very helpful.”
“I want to hear all about it. I was worried when I came back and you were gone.”
His things unpacked, he took up his lantern and hunkered beside the ring of stones. “If there is danger, I have failed to find it,” he lamented. “A week, and nothing. Sometimes it seems we are chasing ghosts. I confess I am tired.”
“Me too.” She tried to sympathize. “I feel lost. The forest is rather…big. But when Rellen comes, all will be better.”
He retreated into a moment’s thought, returning less distant. “These mountains, this forest, they conjure up the loneliness in every living thing. You have done well to make yourself at home.”
“I am a little lonely.” She shrugged. “But it will pass.”
The hour was late. She was not as sleepy as she expected. While she watched, Garrett set himself to the task of building a fire. He struck tinder to flint, turned a pile of leaves over and over again, and
awakened a simmering flame. She was no longer hungry, so he dined upon his repast of venison and tea and saved her share for tomorrow. The same as every night, she sat with him as he ate. She saw how he peered across the flame, a faint smile lingering, and she smiled back. She wondered of his smile, unreadable as it was. Had it been Garrett who found me in Grandwood, would I yearn for him instead of Rellen?
“It is late,” she said once his meal was gone and the fire began to wane. “But I am not tired. Stay up with me and talk. I have spent the whole day alone.”
“Our talk will be brief.”
“Why? Are you leaving again?”
“No, but while we whittle the hours away, time runs out.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. Something is on his mind, she knew. But what?
“Time is running out?” She tread the question cautiously. “What do you mean? No riddles, I beg you.”
“Here,” He reached behind him and plucked a stuffed satchel from the grass. “I brought something just for you. Take a look. Quickly now.”
“Quickly? Why quickly?” she asked. “Is this really for me?”
He set the satchel in her hands, dusted the dirt from his pants, and walked away from the campfire. Where is he going? She watched him wander to the darkest edge of the hilltop clearing, chasing him with her eyes. “Garrett?” she called after him. “What is this? A bag of bread? A new blanket?”
She unraveled the knot sealing the satchel. Inside she discovered a leather wrapping, another package to be opened, and another mystery to tease her. She laid the wrapping on the ground. Garrett hummed in the background, betraying nothing. Bit by bit, she peeled the wrapping away, nimble fingers working until she revealed the last thing in the world she expected. “A dress?” A smile erupted on her lips. “Oh Garrett! I completely forgot!”
The days had been long, rainy, and full of her adventures in the forest. Garrett’s promise to buy the dress had slipped her mind entirely. Feeling oafish, she tossed her old raiment on the ground and slipped inside the dress. If Garrett watched, she paid it no mind. She was stunned to find the dress fit nearly perfectly, clinging to her body like air. The gold Garrett must have paid did no justice to its marvel. A wealth of green, mirroring the hue of her eyes, covered the bodice and skirt, while wisps of translucent white trailed down the sleeves like petals, following the wind as it breathed through the night. Tiny ivory stones, plucked from the river and polished, were sewn masterfully into every seam. She understood why Garrett had walked away. He wanted me to put it on. Smiling, she spun in the campfire light, the dress weightless against her skin. She felt ethereal, floating in the night like a spirit made of glass. “You can turn around now.” She called to him. You will be the first to see me in it, not Rellen.
Garrett’s gaze fell upon her like a full moon upon a flower. “You look…stunning.”
She blushed. “How did you get the fit right?”
“The seamstress. When you and I were there in the rain, she watched you through her shutters. I asked her the next day if she needed to measure you, but she claimed she needed no measurements. She knew by sight alone.”
“I feel terrible I forgot,” she said.
“Consider it a surprise. For you. And for Rellen.”
She skipped across the hilltop and hugged him hard, sinking her damp hair into his chest. She might have kissed him, but dared not. “Thank you.” She peeled slowly away. “I mean it. Many have been good to me, but you especially.”
“It is nothing,” he said. “We should go now. We have waited too long. Friends await us.”
Her body went still, all the night’s noises fading into the background. “Friends?” she asked. “You mean tonight? You mean…Rellen?”
“I met his scouts just three hours ago. The Gryphon company will be here soon.”
Her heart caught fire. Her fingertips began to tingle, her toes going numb. Feeling almost sick with euphoria, she teetered in place. “Where?” She glanced all around, hoping to see Rellen stride between the boulders and into the firelight. “Is he here now?”
“He is close. Follow me. See for yourself.”
Her heart thrumming, her new dress catching in the night’s wind, she stepped aside and waited for Garrett to lead the way.
She wanted to run, to fly, but felt unsure which way to go. So excited she thought she might die of it, she trailed him down the hillside and into Tratec. By the glow of his lantern, she skipped onto the Crossroad and followed it westward against the dreary midnight sky. If anyone could have seen her and him, they might have thought the two were opposites, a stoic stone warrior and an ivory princess, the strangest of pairings. Yet together they walked, striding comfortably through the darkness.
A quarter hour’s walk, and she came to the edge of Velum forest. It was there Garrett stopped. Farther down the path, where the dark trees halted against the unseen grasses of the Dales, a light arose, the red glow of many torches held high. A single rider issued from the massed fires, a man silhouetted atop a warhorse galloping toward her and Garrett. She looked to the rider and beyond, where at least two-dozen men on horseback approached. In the darkness, she could not see any of their faces.
The first rider reined his steed to a stop some ten paces away. His horse had a thick lather on his neck, and its nostrils blasted furiously. “Who’s there?” the rider called. “Master Croft? That you?”
Garrett took three steps forward. “Just as promised. Is your lord here?”
“Aye. He follows, just back there.” The rider pointed to the men behind him.
The rider galloped back to the others. Andelusia stayed as still as frozen stone, wanting so badly to follow. Garrett entered the ring of horsemen and greeted the flame-bearing riders like good friends. It was there, in the center of the gathered men, she glimpsed a figure swathed in azure leap down from his horse. She heard a voice achingly familiar, and saw the wind catch in his hair like an autumn breeze through a field of wheat. She listened as he and Garrett spoke, shivering in anticipation.
“Well, well, what do the mountains say, old friend?” Rellen clasped Garrett’s hand. “Are we welcome here? You’re fearless enough, wandering the open road. Is it the same for everyone?”
“It is for now,” replied Garrett. “The reach of the Three Lords is not yet this far.”
“And who’s this? A new friend?” exclaimed Rellen, squinting in her direction.
She took the first steps toward him. She knew the fires all around him would disguise her, and so she savored the last moments before he recognized her. Gliding gracefully through the darkness, she walked to the edge of the riders’ torchlights.
Bruced was nearest to her, but atop his massive destrier even he did not know her. “Lord Croft, you didn’t mention a woman,” the beast of Gryphon boomed. “We heard women were beneath you, and not in the way most men like.”
The riders laughed. Their amusement continued until they saw her step fully into the light. When she did, they fell silent all at once, for they knew who she was.
“This is no common woman, nor is she mine,” declared Garrett. “This is Andelusia. Most of you know her.”
Rellen’s face went ashen. His helm tumbled from his grasp and clanged onto the road. He left his men and walked toward her, striding forward as though she were a ghost. “How’s this possible?” he asked. “Ande?”
She stood in the center of the road like a goddess, fair and tranquil as the first cloud catching fire in the rising sun. She watched the change wash over Rellen. He crept closer and closer, and when he recognized her, she felt an ocean of happiness wash over her, her tears welling in the corner of her eyes. “I came with Garrett, milord,” she said. “He took me across the grasslands and over the hills. I would have waited in Gryphon, but… I thought you might not come, but here you are. I missed you!”
Tears streaming, she sank into his arms. He did not resist. Her lips sought his, and her frosted breath mingled with his in the cool night air. A soft, passionate kiss,
and she melted against him like a river into the sea. She heard the other riders coo and snicker, but she hardly cared.
“I expected to find plenty here, but never you.” He caressed her cheek. “I feel a fool for leaving you behind.”
“You are a fool.” She smiled. “My fool.”
He hugged her again and looked to Garrett. “So this is the one who brought you here?”
“He did,” she admitted. “He thought you might need me. He thought you might be surprised. Do not be angry. It was my idea, never his.”
Rellen breathed a vast breath of relief. But even as he did, even as he held her close, she saw a moment’s shadow slip across his countenance. “Garrett, are you sure it’s safe for her here?” he questioned. “Nentham Thure’s turned against us. His attack halved our numbers. Has there been any word of this? Are you sure we’re not walking into a trap?”
Garrett lowered his voice. “We should talk away from the Crossroad, away from prying ears. Follow me to our camp. We are alone atop the hill. None in Tratec have troubled us.”
What? Andelusia shivered.
Garrett never mentioned any attack.
Rellen took her and lifted her into his saddle, but she hardly felt his touch. Her gaze moved across the faces of the other men, all of them seeming grimmer than mere moments ago. Rellen pulled himself into the saddle and sat behind her. She tugged his hands until they were snug around her waist.
“Are we safe?” she asked.
“For now,” he whispered in her ear as his company fell in behind Garrett. “If Garrett says it, it must be true.”
“I remember what you said about Nentham.”
“Ande.” The way he said her name loosened every muscle in her body. “I’d rather not talk about him. Not now, anyway.”
“Of course.”
“I’d rather talk about how I dreamed of you every night,” he said as they trotted along the road. “I wanted to throw everything away just to be with you. Father’s plan, Mormist, Nentham, all of it be damned. I never should’ve left you. I was weak. And stupid.”
Down the Dark Path (Tyrants of the Dead Book 1) Page 21