A nearby stump made a solid seat. Eve gathered a small heap of brush and then fetched the tinderbox. She gave it to him.
“We will need a small fire for cooking dinner.” She returned to the wagon to gather the supplies.
Grateful for an occupation, Labren bent to the task. Eve was long in returning; so, when she did, he had let the original blaze burn down to a good cooking temperature. She prepared a simple meal of tea, bacon, and bread.
Labren watched her, feeling guilty. He had been outright rude to her. The fact her motivation was his best interest made his behavior all the more awful. Not even one day into their marriage and he was already acting like a heel, hardly God honoring behavior. His stomach clenched.
“I apologize.”
His voice sounded harsh to his ears. She looked up from her crouching position near the sizzling bacon.
“For what?”
Anger rose in his chest because he thought she was being difficult. He opened his mouth to retort, but the mild confusion on her face brought the words to a halt. Her expression quickly changed into hurt. She moved the food around in the pan.
“Oh, that. You are forgiven.”
“Thank you.” His words sounded stiff.
She removed the bacon from the fire. “You’re welcome.”
Labren still regretted his behavior as he ate his meal. Also, what had absorbed her attention enough to wipe everything else from her mind? When he finished his food, his head and eyes grew heavy. Fighting to stay awake he tried to stand. Before he realized she moved, Eve was next to him, draping his good arm across her thin shoulders. Unusually strong for her size, she bore his weight steadily. He would not have thought her small frame was so sturdy. Thankfully, appearances deceived in this instance; he needed her support.
They crossed the clearing together. With her assistance, he climbed into the wagon bed. He discovered that she had made up their one mattress with pillows and quilts. She helped him out of his jacket, shirt, pants, boots, and socks. Then she left him to climb under the blankets. Labren did not note the chill earlier in the day. Now with only his under things and hose protecting him from the cold he remembered it was mid-November. Winter was coming.
He slipped into the soft bedclothes. Sleep claimed him quickly. His last thought was a question. How are we going to get through the mountains in snow?
Huddling against the sudden wind, Eve briskly cleared the meal mess. She almost longed for the shelter of the wagon when she finished. The smell of winter came in frigid gusts. The sky, which had been clear earlier, filled with dark clouds. Eve figured the overdue winter weather would debut during the day. Even then she was not eager to encounter the cold and wet.
After stowing the pan under the seat, she climbed over it and between the canvas flaps that blocked out the wind. The air inside still bit at her hands and face. She studied her sleeping husband. His long legs and out-flung arm took up most of the bed. Maybe if she moved it a little, she would have space to lie without touching him. The temperature dropped even as she removed her dress and petticoat. She pulled back the covers and climbed under the quilts.
Beneath the covers, Labren radiated a tempting aura of heat. She adjusted herself for sleep. He moved just as she found a comfortable position on the lumpy mattress. At first she thought he was awake, but as his hand slid to touch her shoulder she grew uncertain. Holding her breath, she waited to see what he would do. He rolled over and put his arm loosely about her waist. This trapped her on her side with her back to his front. She tensed, but he seemed to have fallen into peaceful slumber. His breath tickled the hairs at the nape of her neck while his warmth soaked into her back. Resigned to their new position, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep. She, at least, needed to be rested.
Labren waited until her body and breathing indicated she had fallen asleep. Then he moved. From the sound of the wind, they needed each other to stay warm tonight. Once he was satisfied she was not going to freeze, he let the comfort of sleep claim him again.
Eve awoke before Labren. With difficulty she extracted herself from his embrace. She crept from the refuge of the bedclothes and quickly dressed. After checking that Labren remained warm, she slipped between the cover flaps and into the chill of the evening.
A light blanket of snow frosted the ground. Eve’s shoes offered little protection from even this dusting. By the time she started a small fire, she could no longer feel her toes. Shaking against the cold, she broke the thin layer of ice in the water bucket and poured the liquid beneath into the kettle. She set the pot close to the fire, soaking up the warmth of the flame. The potatoes would be a welcome treat if she baked them in the coals.
She quietly climbed back into the wagon to find Labren awake and digging through one of the trunks. He looked up when she appeared. “Where are the bundles…?” He clamored across the crowded wagon bed to claim her hands. “You must be frozen. What are you thinking going out without an extra layer?” He massaged her frigid fingers with his gloved ones.
“I don’t have one.” Her teeth knocked together as she spoke.
“Yes, you do.” Frustrated at the clumsiness of his gloves, he removed the offending items. He warmed her fingers with one of his large hands while reaching toward a nearby trunk simultaneously. “I bought outer clothing that I thought would possibly fit you when we were in town. Now where are those packages?”
Before Eve could protest, he bundled her into a coat two sizes too big. He produced mittens and boots, both of which were larger than needed. Only after he had found woolen socks and a scarf for each of them, did he stop to examine her.
Eve immediately spoke up. “It is not cold enough out to merit all this. Besides I could not possibly do chores in these; I would ruin them.” She held out the gloves for his inspection.
“Nonsense.” Labren waded through the mess again, so that he towered over her. “You will wear them for as long as I say you need them. I bought them for our use.” Eve indignantly straightened to his commanding tone. She was about to speak her mind. Labren stopped her by placing his warm fingers against her cold mouth.
“I try not to issue commands very often, Eve. But when I do, I believe I have a right to your obedience. Let me be a good husband in at least this way.” His face was kind; however Eve sensed he would not back down on this point.
“I will use them. I need to finish preparing breakfast.” She gathered the potatoes and climbed over the side. She hated to admit it, but she needed the extra protection the coat gave against the wind.
Two weeks passed in dragging monotony. Traveling by night, sleeping by day, Labren watched the pace wear down his body and the concern grow in Eve’s eyes. Every time she redressed his wounds or glanced his way, her worry pulled at her brow. He hated seeing the tightening of her mouth and her turning away to hide what she thought.
So, when they discovered a traveling caravan one morning as they searched for a campsite for the night, he made a decision.
“We should join them if we can.”
He pulled at the reins and guided their horses over to the side of the road. Ten wagons camped about twenty feet away. Amber and gold cooking fires lit the gray dawn within the circle. Men and women moved around them, most likely eating their morning meals.
Handing Eve the leads, he climbed down from the seat.
“What about our rest? You have been driving all night.”
He waved away her objection and strode off toward the wagons. “Keep the horses still. I will be right back.”
His arrival at the fringe of the camp caused a small stir.
“What business do you have here?” a young man demanded, stepping out from the shadow of the closest wagon. He stood at least as tall as Labren, but still had the lankiness of youth about his limbs.
“I wish to speak to the wagon master regarding joining your caravan.”
“You come alone?” The man looked past Labren to Eve.
“No, my wife,” the word still sounded foreign to his to
ngue, “and I are traveling toward Ana City. Where are you headed?”
“As far as Canktinton, on the border.”
Labren nodded. “I am familiar with the area. May we travel with you?”
The man glanced over at Eve again. “We’ll find room, but it will cost you. We don’t have extra supplies.”
Labren frowned, but shook his head. “We brought our own.” The pointed interest in Eve rankled his instincts, but the dull ache in his limbs overwhelmed them.
The man shrugged. “Father will still insist on payment.” Then he turned and strode toward the central fire circle.
The young man, Ulysses, was correct. His father demanded an outrageous fee, but Labren was compelled to pay for the peace of mind. He read the signs of his earlier pursuers closing in on them: strangers asking questions, strained looks when purchasing supplies, and an occasional patrol riding past them. Any time now they would connect him to the disappearance of a slave girl. The additional cover of traveling in a caravan might help. They traveled slowly with all the women and children, the opposite of what the trackers would expect.
“So, where are you from, little mouse?”
Eve lifted her head from scrubbing the dinner pot. Her hands shook from exhaustion. They had now traveled a full day and night without rest. Her eyes protested at the idea of focusing. The wagon master’s son stood over her, grinning in a way he clearly thought disarming.
Eve returned to scrubbing.
“Must be somewhere north.”
Eve blinked hazily and tried to think about what she needed to do next.
“Now is not the time to visit, Ulysses.” Labren’s voice broke through her drifting thoughts. “We have had a long day.”
Ulysses shrugged. “See you folks tomorrow.”
Labren watched him leave through narrowed eyes. Eve felt vaguely uneasy.
“Try to avoid that one, Eve. He is trouble.”
She nodded. Tears rose unbidden. She was so intent on not letting them fall she jumped when Labren’s hand closed around hers.
“Come to bed. The rest can wait until tomorrow.”
Obediently, Eve lay down the scrub brush and dumped the water out of the pot. She didn’t want to let the kettle rust again considering the elbow effort to clean it initially.
After stumbling up into the wagon with Labren’s help, she fell asleep before he blew out the lantern.
A patrol passed the wagon train in a cacophony of yells, hoof beats, and swearing. Perched on the seat, Labren hunched deeper into his scarf and coat and prayed they didn’t look back.
“Are you certain they are still searching for you?” Eve asked from her place next to him.
“Positive.”
She turned to watch one of the children running to catch another.
He almost heard the unanswered inquiries whirling around her brain. His grip tightened on the reins. After four weeks of marriage, she should have asked one of the questions, but she didn’t. Instead, she avoided his gaze and concentrated on knitting something. One of the other women taught her a week ago. Now she hid behind a skein of wool, wooden needles, and a growing knot of something.
Closing his eyes, he sighed. Every night she clung to the distance between them until she relaxed into sleep. Each meal swiftly became a study in stunted conversation. He wanted more, but he feared there never would be. At least she treated the whelp, Ulysses, the same way. No, he corrected himself, she treats him worse. Her reception of his advances grew downright frigid.
“How much farther?” she asked.
Shaking off his grim mood, Labren glanced around. The long dusty road lay out before them, winding through rolling hills covered by forests and fields. “What was the name of the town at the last crossroads?”
“Overkan, I believe.”
“Then we have another month.” He glanced her way to judge her reaction. She frowned and stared up at the grey sky.
“The snow will not hold out that long.”
“Making camp!” Ulysses called out as he rode back along the line of wagons. Their wagon brought up the tail of the caravan. “Camp is in sight,” he informed them as he pulled up next to them and flashed Eve a brilliant grin. He then heeled his tired horse, forcing him to lunge forward half mad into a gallop and leave them in a cloud of dust.
“Inconsiderate fool,” Labren muttered.
“Idiot.” Eve coughed.
Labren’s chest warmed with hope as he guided their vehicle into its place. She wasn’t a fool or interested in a fool. The sensation lived a very brief life.
Not an hour later, his stomach tightened like a vice. With sharp eyes he scanned the camp. Eve approached their fireside with their daily ration of water. Ulysses hid behind the wagon closest to theirs. The leer of the wagon master’s son made his hands itch for a weapon.
Eve’s face brightened and she smiled at him as she crossed the middle of the circle. Labren tried to force himself to smile and not show his worry. He knew he was not convincing her.
“What is the matter?” She poured some of the water into the kettle.
“I will tell you later.” He made a big show of walking to the tethered horses. He struggled not to limp although it aggravated his leg. Just as he expected, once his back turned, the scoundrel eased his way over to where Eve stirred their supper. While Labren checked the hooves of his animals, Ulysses offered to cut the bread for her.
To Eve’s credit, she pushed strands of loose hair back behind her ears and coolly declined his offer. Not to be rejected completely, the man insisted on lifting the kettle from over the fire. Deciding he had seen enough, Labren hobbled the horse and turned back to his wagon. Long before he arrived, Ulysses left.
Taking in Eve’s pale cheeks and lowered eyes, Labren decided he would deal with this problem before bed. Even if it meant they parted with the caravan, he needed to speak with the wagon master about Ulysses. He would wait until a private moment to speak with Eve.
His wife’s hands shook when she handed him his stew.
Eve worked at cleaning up the meal mess as Labren walked over to the main fire that always burned in the center of camp. Her mind raced and her hands moved by rote.
All attempts to block out Ulysses’ face from her memory proved futile. The way he leered at her twisted her stomach. She gulped back the bile in her throat. The proposal he offered made her want a bath.
Labren’s silence did not comfort her at all. An unreasonable feeling that she shamed him grew in her chest. She tried to occupy her mind elsewhere, but found herself dwelling upon the tight panic growing in her stomach.
She finished the chores more quickly than usual and dumped out the dirty dishwater while the dying fire still glowed. Even though Labren did not return from the main fireside until most of the stars appeared, Eve climbed into their wagon to begin making their bed for the night.
After lighting the lantern, she placed it on the top of their clothes’ chest. Its golden-red glow deepened the shadows behind the various boxes and trunks filling the floor. She began to wrestle their mattresses out from their wooden box when she heard a sound. She paused mid-motion to listen.
The stride of the person approaching was clear in spite of the distant scolding of the mothers calling the children to bed. Somehow she knew the man outside the wagon was not her husband.
Avoiding making shadows on the canvas, Eve slipped behind the half empty chest. Moments before he began to hoist himself over the wheel hub, she tucked herself under the partially unpacked mattress. She stopped breathing as he pushed aside the flap and entered.
For what seemed like an eternity to Eve, Ulysses stood and surveyed the room before him. He stepped toward her. Eve swallowed a gasp as her heart thundered in her ears.
“I saw you come in here, Eve.” Annoyance tinged his tone. She had forced him to seek her. “There were wild animals wandering the camp. I came to check on you.” He took two steps to the middle of the floor. The toes of his dirty and scuffed work boots appeared near
her head.
She needed to breathe soon or pass out. What would he do then? She did not want to find out. Timidly she let some of the stale air out her nose. Then he surprised her by moving toward the mattress. The remaining air rushed out.
With a cry of triumph, Ulysses lunged for her. “I have you!”
Eve screamed. She burst forth. Not bothering with circumventing the obstacles between her and the back of the wagon, she leaped for the opening in the canvas. She made it only to fall to the hard ground about five feet below. She scrambled to her feet and plowed right into her husband’s arms.
Labren had been walking back from his brief talk with the wagon master. He informed the older man of his intention to turn off the trail at the next crossroads. The wagon master refused to refund any of the money they paid. In the end, Labren decided the argument was not worth the effort. He had changed their plans and the new destination would hopefully offer them room and board for the winter in exchange for his services.
The events of the afternoon gave him no choice. They could not travel over the mountains by themselves. Danger hunted both of them if they continued with this group much longer. Besides, his body demanded rest. His injuries were healing more slowly than desired. He needed a break from the draining work of travel.
His speech to the Professor ran through his head. Then Eve’s cry startled him out of his thoughts. His legs quickened their pace. The wagon’s looming shadow touched his feet when Eve crashed into him. His arms encircled her as his bad leg complained at the sudden strain. By sheer determination, he stayed upright.
While holding the trembling body of his wife, he spotted the figure of Ulysses creeping away. A knot formed in his stomach.
Tonight Eve required all the comfort he could give. Tomorrow, he intended to have a ‘talk’ with that boy. The rascal would never pursue another man’s wife again. Then they were leaving. The school was only hours away. He remembered where to go and how to get them there.
The Crown of Anavrea (The Theodoric Saga) Page 3