The Prison of Buried Hopes (After The Rift Book 5)

Home > Other > The Prison of Buried Hopes (After The Rift Book 5) > Page 11
The Prison of Buried Hopes (After The Rift Book 5) Page 11

by C. J. Archer


  "We will go behind a tree."

  "I am not rolling around on the ground like a common whore!"

  "That is what the tree trunk is for."

  Kitty blushed. "Honestly, Erik, you're quite the savage sometimes."

  "Only for you, my sweet duchess."

  She rolled her eyes but her smile returned.

  I rode off to join Dane at the front, riding just ahead of Max and Meg. He kept his gaze on the track but greeted me amiably.

  "Let me guess," he said. "Kitty sent you up here to ask me if we can stop in a village along the way to purchase some kind of comfort she's in desperate need of."

  "A wagon," I said. "A covered one. Although I think Erik managed to change her mind and accept a more savage existence."

  "How intrepid of her."

  "Hopefully her adventurous spirit will last until we reach Priest's End."

  We rode in comfortable silence together for a while, but I could see he wanted to say something. I waited, my heart full, hoping he would repeat the admission he'd made to me in the prison. His words still raced through my head in quiet moments, and would forever swell my heart.

  "Will you take some friendly advice?" he asked.

  I sighed. "Are you going to lecture me?"

  "It's about your plan to free me from prison."

  "You mean the plan that failed? It was a terrible idea in the first place. If the princess hadn't managed to convince her father to pardon you—" I bit down on my trembling lip. I didn't want to be reminded of how close I'd come to losing him.

  "It wasn't a terrible plan. But next time, dispatch the guards as soon as they begin throwing up. Don't give any of them an opportunity to fetch reinforcements."

  "By dispatch you mean…?"

  "Kill."

  "I don't like killing people who are merely performing their duties. It's not their fault you were about to hang for a crime you didn't commit."

  The gloved hand resting on his thigh curled into a fist. "Then you shouldn't follow me. I can't foresee a future where we won't need to dispatch men performing their duties."

  "Dane," I said gently. "You don't have to pretend you don't care. Not with me. I know it troubles you as much as it troubles me."

  He shook his head ever so slightly. "The problem is, I don't think it troubles me as much as it should." He shrugged. "I don't know. Perhaps it does. Perhaps…" He shook his head again. "I don't know what I feel about anything lately. Ever since leaving the palace and Mull, I feel…unsettled. Out of place. Like this journey is not only a bad idea but pointless."

  "It won't be pointless. Perhaps you're not linked to Freedland, but some of the servants certainly are. Max, for one. And Balthazar too, somehow."

  "That's not it. I must be from Freedland. I have a Freedlander's coloring. So shouldn't I feel like I'm going home?"

  "Not when it hasn't been your home for some time. You can't remember it, Dane. But you remember Mull. Mull became your home. When your memories return—"

  "If."

  "When your memories return, your sense of belonging will change again." I reached out and touched his arm. "You will remember, Dane."

  He took my hand in his and stared down at it. "I wish I didn't have to."

  "You don’t mean that. Not really."

  His hand squeezed mine. "You know me better than I know myself." He let me go and returned his hand to his thigh where it once again balled into a fist.

  We rode in silence again for some distance before he suddenly turned to me, frowning. "You mentioned Brant earlier. You said the attacker last night could have been hired by Deerhorn, the king, Barborough or Brant. Why him?"

  "We saw him yesterday, before your…before you were led out of the prison."

  "I should have known he'd break away from the others and reach Merrin Fahl before them. He never got along with the other servants. What did he want?"

  "To goad us. He let slip that he knew we'd used the gem to bargain for your freedom."

  "Only the princess or Barborough could have told him about your bargain. The princess wouldn't stoop to dealing with Brant, but Barborough would."

  I bit the inside of my cheek, considering the best way to admit what I'd done. "It might not have been either of them who told him."

  "Go on," he said when I hesitated.

  "You gave me the idea actually."

  His frown deepened. "What idea?"

  "You suggested it would have been a better idea to use the gem to entice Lord Xavier into admitting he killed Jute. I even told him how to word it for the authorities so that it would seem like an accident. It was quite a good idea."

  "No, it was not," he growled. "I'm sure I didn't say it was a better idea. I do recall saying it was dangerous to strike any kind of bargain with the Deerhorns. Are you telling me you spoke to Lord Xavier?"

  "He visited me at the inn."

  He glanced over his shoulder to Max.

  "I was alone at the time," I said. "Drowning my sorrows." I cleared my throat as my attempted lightness fell flat. Dane's face turned thunderous. "Anyway, Lord Xavier didn't want to make that admission to the magistrate, but it seems he did tell Brant that I'd offered him the gem. It wouldn't surprise me if either of them was behind the attack last night."

  Dane looked directly ahead, his body rigid. He was furious with me.

  "At least now we know who Brant's working for," I said. "He probably promised the Deerhorns a wish if they helped him retrieve the gem." Dane kept his gaze dead ahead. "It must be Lord Xavier who told him we had it, not Barborough. You see, Brant mentioned that he'd heard we have the gem, not the gem and the wishes. I promised the princess both gem and wishes, but just the gem to Lord Xavier, since I was quite sure he believed Brant had the wishes. So now we know they've struck a deal. That's a benefit to come out of this."

  His gaze slid sideways to me. "There is no benefit to having Brant, the Deerhorns and Barborough all after us."

  "Don't forget King Phillip."

  His eyes narrowed to slits before he looked forward again, presenting me with his shoulder. He quickened his horse's pace.

  I followed and drew alongside him again, only to have to fall back when the track narrowed.

  "Do not ignore me," I snapped. "I did it for you, to get you out of prison, in case the princess couldn't. It could have worked."

  "But it didn't."

  "I'd bargain with the Deerhorns, Brant and the sorcerer itself if I had to, Dane."

  He said nothing.

  "Stop behaving as if you wouldn't have done it too if the situation was reversed."

  "I wouldn't." It was a half-hearted protest with not a hint of conviction.

  "I know you better than you know yourself, remember."

  He grunted and directed his horse to the side to allow me space to move up. "I hate arguing with you."

  "I hate it too," I said with a sigh.

  His eyes flashed with mischief. "No, I mean I hate arguing with you because you always win."

  I reached across the gap and thumped him in the arm.

  He laughed. "That was pathetic."

  "Oh, you want me to punch you hard? Gladly. You deserve it."

  I went to smack his arm again but he rode off.

  He looked back over his shoulder. "Try and catch me. I'll go slow."

  The wretch. He knew I'd never catch him. I managed to urge my horse to speed up, but the close trees made me too nervous to make her go faster. She seemed to sense my hesitation and deliberately kept a more sedate pace than Dane's energetic horse.

  I finally caught up to him at a deep pool. He'd stripped off entirely and was swimming away from me with smooth strokes. He reached the rocks on the other side where he set about pulling out river grass from the shallows. It was good for cleansing and healing, and had a delicious sweet smell.

  He washed off the prison grime then swam back as the others arrived. He stopped when he got close enough to stand and walked until the water was waist deep. Droplets streamed f
rom those wonderfully broad shoulders and chest, and dripped off his hair. He didn't care about modesty so I didn't bother to turn away. I stood and admired.

  "Oh my," came Meg's soft protest behind me. "I can see why you like to look upon him."

  "From a purely professional perspective, of course," I said, smiling at Dane. He was looking back at me with a quizzical raise of his eyebrows since he couldn't hear our conversation.

  "Naturally," Meg said, laughing. "Oh!"

  I turned to see what had startled her only to be almost barreled over by a naked Erik sprinting past, whooping. He ran into the water and dove into the depths before surfacing on the other side. He flicked his hair back, spraying drops of water in an arc, and grinned.

  "Come in, Kitty!" he called out.

  "I prefer my baths warm, thank you," she said, taking up a position beside me. "Besides, I can see better from here."

  "In case one of them drowns?" Balthazar asked from where Theodore was helping him down from his horse.

  "Precisely."

  Erik beckoned Max and Quentin but both shook their heads.

  "Go on," Meg urged. "It looks like fun."

  "It looks cold and wet," Quentin grumbled.

  Max hesitated before removing his doublet and jerkin. "Turn away," he said before removing his breeches. "Don't look until I'm in the water."

  Kitty and I dutifully turned away while Meg covered her eyes with her hands.

  "No peeking," he told her.

  I heard his footsteps on the leaf matter as he ran past and the loud splash of water followed by Dane swearing. I turned back to see him fishing Max out of the deeper section and dragging him back to the shallows. Max's face was red from coughing.

  "So he lived in a landlocked village," Balthazar said mildly.

  Meg removed her boots and waded into the shallows. "Are you all right?"

  Now safely in shallow waters, Max nodded. "Fine. Thanks, Captain."

  "My pleasure, Sergeant."

  Dane swam off to join Erik, who promptly tried to draw Dane into a race. Dane refused and they fell into a playful argument. I'd never seen Dane like this with his men before, and I wondered if it was new to them too, or if he'd always been more friendly during their quieter moments at the palace.

  Going by the smile on Max's face and Quentin's admiration as they watched on, I would guess it was a new and welcome development. Despite what Dane said about not feeling at home here, he was certainly relaxed.

  Balthazar tapped Theodore with his walking stick. "Quentin, Theo, let's set up a camp in that clearing through there. It's growing dark and my body aches. I won't be able to get back on that beast today."

  Quentin stroked the horse's nose. "Your horse isn't a beast; he's a good, calm fellow. Aren't you, Boy?" Mere months ago, he'd sat awkwardly on his horse and fallen off so many times that he was the butt of the other guards' jokes. He'd come a long way since I'd first met him. He was now as capable on horseback as most of the other palace guards.

  "You go," Theo said from where he sat on a large rock. "I'm enjoying the, er…"

  "View?" I offered.

  "Company."

  I sat on the rock beside him. "Me too."

  Erik finally coerced Dane into a swimming race, which Dane won. He won the second and third too, but not the forth. Erik cheated by getting out of the water on the far bank and sprinting to the end.

  Kitty squealed with laughter and clapped her hands. "We can see all of you, Erik!"

  He bowed in our direction. "You are welcome, ladies! And Theodore too. I hope you enjoyed the show."

  Max rolled his eyes. "We should have left him in Merrin."

  Meg joined me on the rock, grinning from ear to ear. "Kitty has quite the roguish streak."

  I watched Kitty as she openly admired Erik performing all sorts of, er, interesting moves with his pelvis on the other side of the stream. "I think she's more of a village girl at heart than she likes to admit."

  "You do village girls a disservice," Theodore said. "Most ladies at the palace privately engaged in exhibitions far bawdier than this. Village girls are well behaved by comparison."

  Meg and I both stared at him. I couldn't imagine Kitty doing this sort of thing when she was a duchess, and I certainly couldn't imagine Miranda and her mother doing it either. They were both genteel and proper to their core. Lady Violette Morgrave and Lady Deerhorn, however, were another breed entirely.

  Dane called my name from where he stood beside Max in the shallows. I tried very hard to only look at his face but found my gaze wandering over his chest, down to his abdomen and the V of muscle disappearing into the water.

  Dane cleared his throat. "Josie, there are some clean clothes in my saddlebags."

  "Are there?"

  "Can I have them, please?"

  "Of course."

  He waited. "Can I have them now?"

  "Right. Just going to get them." I got up and slowly walked to his horse, backwards.

  He smirked and crossed his arms, making the muscles on his chest and arms bulge. "I could freeze out here."

  "You'll be fine. I've got medical training. I know the signs of freezing and you're not exhibiting any yet."

  Erik swam across the stream, got out and walked straight up to his horse. He didn't bother to fish out clean clothes from his saddlebags but walked the horse off through the trees to the clearing where Quentin and Balthazar had begun setting up a camp.

  "Erik!" Quentin cried. "Put that away. Nobody wants to see it."

  "The ladies do," Erik said.

  Kitty picked up her skirts and followed. "I'd better help set up. Balthazar should be resting."

  Theodore followed her and Meg got to her feet. "Come on, Josie. Kitty's right, and we should help. Besides, Max's extremities are starting to turn blue."

  Max looked down at himself then dipped both hands under the water to cover his nether regions.

  I allowed myself to be dragged away by Meg, walking backwards until I stumbled over a stick. My clumsiness earned me a smug smile and a wave from Dane.

  The following morning brought a new day that was entirely different from the one before. Not only was our pace slower, but everyone was snippy and cross. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep or drizzling rain that dampened our mood, or perhaps it was the jagged, sharp mountains rising from the flat plains ahead like dragon's teeth. Whatever it was, Kitty snapped at Erik and he snapped back, Meg and Max hardly acknowledged each other, and Theodore had fallen into morose silence. Quentin tried to tell jokes to lift everyone's spirits until Balthazar told him to be quiet.

  Dane was back to ignoring me, and by midday, I was tired of it. "Do we need to find another pond?" I asked, joining him at the front of our little group.

  "Pardon?"

  "So you can wash away your sour mood."

  "Sorry," he said simply.

  I waited for more but he sat in the saddle, his body moving effortlessly with the horse's steps, a hand resting on his thigh. We traveled at a walking pace today. With the twin cities well behind us, escape no longer felt urgent, and those of us unused to riding were suffering from long hours in the saddle.

  "I don't want an apology," I told him. "I want things to return to the way they were between us."

  "It can't."

  "Why not?"

  "You know why. It's best this way until I learn about my past."

  "You didn't think that way yesterday. You enjoyed yourself."

  "Yesterday I let my guard down. I shouldn't have. It was wrong of me and unfair to you."

  So we had circled back to that point in our relationship. It felt like a backwards step. Or a step in the wrong direction. "Can I not have your friendship, at least?"

  "Of course. You'll always have that, Josie. Always."

  "It doesn't feel like it sometimes."

  He blinked rapidly as he stared at the snow-capped peaks ahead. "I'm sorry."

  My heart sank. His apology was all I would get from him for now.

&nbs
p; I eased back and let him go on ahead. Meg joined me as Max moved up alongside Dane.

  "Let me guess," she said. "He told you he can't be with you because he doesn't know if he has a wife."

  I sighed. "And Max?"

  "We're not at the same place in our relationship as you and Dane, but I suspect that's because he doesn't want to get too close for the same reason." We watched the men speak quietly to one another for a few moments. "I feel like I'm just waiting," Meg went on. "Waiting for their memories to return, waiting for them to find out if they are free, and to learn about themselves. Waiting, waiting, waiting."

  "Freedland will produce answers."

  "Some, perhaps, but not all. They'll never know everything until they get their memories back, and that won't happen without magical intervention. We don't have the wishes or the gem, Josie, and we're running away from the person we're quite sure has the former."

  "We'll see Brant again."

  "When? We could be in Freedland for some time."

  I frowned at her. "It's not like you to be this impatient, Meg. Are you missing home? Do you want to return to Mull and your family?"

  "It's not that." She nodded at Max.

  I smiled wryly. "I understand you completely."

  "Riders!" Quentin shouted from the back of our group. "Coming up fast!"

  Dane peeled away from the front and rode back. He stopped a short distance away and returned. "There are about ten of them. I saw flashes of purple and gold."

  "Royal guards," Theodore said.

  "Sweet Hailia," Kitty whispered. "They'll easily catch us."

  "Head for Merdu's Pass." Dane pointed to a low point between two peaks. "Ride as fast as you can and find somewhere to hide. Max, Erik, Quentin, with me."

  "You can't hold off ten of them!" I cried.

  "Go!" He wheeled his horse around and rode towards the royal guards.

  Erik followed without hesitation. Quentin gulped, gave me a grim smile, then he rode off too. Max nodded at Meg, and she nodded back before he followed Dane, Erik and Quentin.

  "Josie! Meg!" Kitty cried from some distance away. "Hurry!"

  I rode at the back of our fractured group with Balthazar. He looked uncomfortable, but he didn't utter a sound of complaint. He kept his gaze on the mountain range.

  The landscape became steeper, the valley narrowing. The stream that fed the River Mer flowed swiftly, crashing over rocks and trapped debris. We followed it into the densely forested foothills where the track thinned, almost disappearing in places, as it headed up the steep inclines. It would only get steeper from here, and the trees would thin out as we climbed before disappearing altogether.

 

‹ Prev