CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Courage
Jessa hugged her knees to her chest as she shivered. She'd been afraid to make a fire and the night was brutally cold.
I don't know how much longer I can make it,
she thought. Despair washed over her, adding to the chill. In all her nineteen years, she’d never been alone before. It never really occurred to her as a possibility. As Emariya's handmaiden, she was supposed to go wherever her lady went. Not to mention she'd usually had other servants around.
But now she didn't have Emariya to tell her what to do. Sure, she still had someone to tend to, but it wasn't the same. Rink hadn't woken, but at least he was still alive. Barely. She was experienced at brushing hair and fetching water. She knew how to mend gowns, not gaping, bleeding shoulder wounds.
There were some who looked down on servants. They pitied them, thinking they had no freedom, thinking they would never know the pleasure of making any major choices for themselves.
Truth be told, it’s easier having choices made for you than trying to figure out the right thing to do,
Jessa thought.
Maybe that's why Emariya had seemed so settled, so calm once she had made the decision to marry Torian. She'd been frantic when she'd first learned of her father, but once her plans were made, she’d settled into a steady calm. All of Warren's Rest had been in a storm of action making the preparations for her journey and seeing to the men at the fjord. But not Emariya: she'd been the eye of the storm as the gale swirled around her. And before that, when Reeve first suggested that she accept Torian's proposal, Jessa had never seen her mistress so disoriented. But as soon as her decision had been made, once she had taken her fate firmly back in her own hands and said no to the offer, she'd become calm almost immediately.
Perhaps fear stemmed from the unknown. The agony was in the need to make a choice. Weighing the options, trying to predict the outcome. Once a choice was made, all that was left was to see it through. All right, then. What were her choices? Maybe if she could figure out what she could do, she would stop feeling so lost.
She couldn't leave Rink—that much was obvious. She needed to tend to him, and in order to do that, she needed her own strength. She'd been drying some wood in the cave for a few days, ever since Garith left. It was probably dry enough now to use for a fire. Working steadily, she brought her wood out piece by piece to the entrance of the cave. A short while later, she had a small fire crackling and water set upon it to boil. She hoped a tea would help Rink, and she knew warmth would help her.
All right, what’s next?
Not knowing how much longer she would be out there on her own, she thought it best to be prepared to keep her fire going. She started out down the mountainside, heading for the small thicket of trees where the horses were hitched. While she was there, she could feed them and bring up some more wood to set near the fire to dry until it was needed.
She heard a twig crack behind her and she spun around with a little yelp.
The beast looked at her as warily as she was looking at it. It tossed it's head, showcasing a long snout with a flat end. Its stout body hung low to the ground. Frost clung to its wiry hair. Endless black eyes watched her without moving.
It must be one of the wild boars Khane told us about,
Jessa figured. Was it going to attack? Should she try and scare it away? She couldn't run; she might not be able to find her way back to the cave. She realized she was still carrying a wet piece of wood. She raised it high above her head and waved it at the boar. “Go on! Get out of here. Get!” she hollered.
The boar took a step back and then charged.
“
Oh, by The Three!” she screamed as she dove into the brush beside her. She expected to feel its teeth in her back at any moment as she tried to scramble quickly to her feet. Turning around, she saw why the boar hadn't come. In its charge, it had plowed right into the tree Jessa had been standing in front of. It wobbled slightly as it backed up, turning unsteadily toward her. Seeming to decide it wasn't worth it, the boar turned and ambled away. Her courage left with the boar. She was scared. She was angry. And most of all, she was exhausted. Jessa sank slowly to the ground and cried.
It felt like ages later when she finally remembered the water she had boiling on the fire and trudged dutifully back toward the cave.
I'm never traveling again,
she thought. At first, it had seemed like it would be a great adventure. Now, if she ever got back to blasted civilization, she was never leaving it again.
***
The pain in Emariya’s shoulder was slowly easing. She found she could move it now without feeling sick to her stomach with pain. It was still swollen, but she would take any improvement she could get. Leil would be in with her supper soon. She had watched the last two nights when they made camp. So far their routine had not varied.
She checked the rope that bound her. Good, it was definitely loose. When Leil bound her once the tents had been pitched, she'd angled herself just enough to ensure that the rope around her left enough room for her to twist around. Stretching slowly, she reached toward the small pocket hidden within the folds of her cloak. If she slipped too much of the rope, Leil would be suspicious. Her fingertips brushed the little flap that concealed the pocket, but couldn't quite grasp the contents. She slid against the stake back and forth until her cloak shifted just enough so that she could reach inside the small folded pouch.
Got it.
Cradling it in her cloak, she said a silent thanks while she waited. Afraid of confusing it with the other herbs in her pouch, she'd kept this one separate. Just possibly, her caution might save her.
She didn't have to wait long. A few minutes later, Leil's footfalls approached her tent.
I'm sorry,
she apologized silently to the closest thing she had to a friend among her captors. He had been kind to her—at least compared to the other two. If there was one of them she didn't want to hurt, it was him, but she could see no other choice. She didn't intend to stick around to see whose hands they had intended to deliver her into.
Seeing him pull back the canvas flap covering the opening to her tent, she gave him a sheepish look. She knew what she had to do, but that didn't mean she had to like it. It was easy to look guilty; she felt guilty. Moving as quickly as her ropes allowed, she tried to shove her hand under her leg.
Setting the dried meat he was carrying down beside her, he reached his hand out. “What are you up to? I don't want no trouble. They'll have both our hides if you try any foolishness,” he hissed at her.
“
It's nothing!” she said indignantly, keeping her voice barely above a whisper. She didn't want the others to hear.
He sighed and grabbed her wrist. As the leaves tumbled out of her cloak, he snatched them up with his other hand. He looked at them quizzically. “What's this?”
She kept silent, not trusting herself to speak. It wouldn't be long now.
Leil raised the leaves to his nose, smelling them. “Speak now—what are they?” He tossed the leaves aside and grabbed her hand, checking to make sure she didn't have anything else hidden. Apparently satisfied, he stepped back.
Emariya could tell the exact moment when the Black Hellebore took effect.
His eyes grew wide. He clutched both hands to his stomach, and he spun around just before he dropped to his knees. His entire body trembled as he retched onto the tent floor.
Emariya turned her head away, trying not to lose her own stomach. She worried he would call out for help, but he stayed quiet, lost to anything other than his own misery. A long few minutes later, he collapsed in a heap, sweat beaded on his face. With an exhausted moan, he closed his eyes and fell into a fitful sleep.
With her own head swimming, she spun herself around until she was facing the stake that held her. She didn't know how long she had until someone would come to see why Leil hadn't returned from delivering her supper. Once she was facing the stake crouched on her knees, she managed to lower herself down, shrugging her shoulders until she slipped out from below the rope. With a final sympathetic glance at Leil, she slipped out of the tent. There was a fire in the center of the campsite, but there was no one near it. Where were the others? Should she try and find Khane's tent and free him? There were only two other tents in the camp. Were they keeping Khane bound near one of them? She would have to send help for him; she couldn't risk opening a tent and finding someone other than Khane waiting for her.
She ran toward the sound of horses. She could hear them munching on their hay. If she could just get to her filly, she would be safe. She had no doubt that her filly could outrun any of their horses, even if they saw her leave. She said a silent prayer of thanks to Reeve for giving her Raina. The filly had been a godsend.
Emariya’s hand flew to her mouth in surprise as she came to a sudden stop.
Khane and The Bear were standing in front of the horses, talking amiably. She got the impression that they had just hitched the horses for the night and now they were passing the time.
Emariya's stomach flipped and turned with sudden nausea.
What's wrong with me?
she wondered. She'd been careful not to touch the Hellebore—only Leil had. But then…Oh no, he'd grabbed her wrist after he tossed the herbs aside. The oils from his hand must have transferred to her. Crouched behind a tree, watching the men by the horses, she felt the night air begin to swirl around her. Was this a hallucination from the Hellebore or was Khane really chatting to the man as if they were old friends. She cocked her head to the side, trying to listen.
“
We'll be there in a week, if the weather holds. Then we can wash our hands of her,” Khane said.
Oh, no. She wished she'd imagined it, but was sure she hadn't. Khane hadn't been taken hostage with her; he had taken her hostage.
Her shock at Khane’s betrayal mixed with the effects of the potent herb, leaving her mind reeling.
But why would Khane take her hostage? Who was he working for?
She thought about what she knew about Khane. He had come from Thalmas. Was it possible that Torian had sent him to make sure she reached him? She had only been taken hostage after she had decided not to head to the castle.
That must be it,
she thought. Khane was working for Torian.
What kind of man kidnaps his bride to ensure that she marries him?
It does lend credence to Garith's theory,
Emariya thought.
Why else would he be so determined that I come to the castle and marry him at all costs?
It was a desperate man, indeed, who would arrange this. Cunning, too. She had to give him credit. It was well designed. Khane had stayed with her, earning her trust, and making sure she continued on the path they had set for her. It had left him in the perfect position to strike, when the need arose.
Her face flushed with fury. She had been angry when she had first been taken. But now, knowing she'd been betrayed by someone she trusted—only an aching emptiness was left. She was of half a mind to march up to him right now, demanding answers. Ask him how dare he betray her, and her brother, too. Her brother had trusted him to escort her. Pushing down her anger, she knew that answers would have to wait. If she confronted him now, she might get her answers, but she would never get away.
Emariya's filly, Raina, pricked her ears and nickered.
Khane looked around. His eyes lingered in the direction of Emariya's tent. He must have been satisfied that all was well, because he and The Bear headed for the campfire.
The potent herb had turned her stomach into butterflies trying to escape. She swallowed hard, trying to settle herself. Now was the best chance she was going to get. If they decided check her tent, she would only have a few moments before they would be looking for her. She ran toward the white horse, focused on the rope that held it near the other horses. Another moment and they would both be free. She reached for the rope. Instead, her hands found the ground as she stumbled and fell. She cried out in pain as she landed on her swollen shoulder. At the Hellebore's bidding, the darkness claimed her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Desperation Breeds Strange Bedfellows
Rocks. All he could see was rocks and more rocks. Garith wasn't sure, but he thought the rocks were gradually taking him upward, like a gentle slope. Except there was nothing gentle about this place. The snow was getting thicker. It fell so fast that his footsteps disappeared behind him almost as soon as he passed. It was as if he were a ghost, leaving no sign that he'd truly been there at all. He might as well be chasing a ghost. He'd found no sign of Emariya, or anyone else since the morning when he left Jessa back at the cave.
He couldn't dare ride. The slope was too slippery, not to mention too steep. Still, he was glad he'd brought the horse along. If the terrain leveled out some, he might be able to make better time. He'd found that it had been Russell's band that had stolen his horse in the first place. Luckily, he'd been able to steal him back when they made their escape.
He hoped Jessa and Rink were faring all right. What little he'd seen of the younger boy so far impressed him. Without his help, he wasn't sure he would have been able to get Emariya out of Russell's hands. They'd crashed into Russell's tent just in time, he and Jessa. Rink had distracted the other members of the camp, his tiny nimble form staying constantly just out of their grasp. Garith had thought for a moment that she might be dead when he saw her on the ground. Another moment more, and she would have been. Russell had turned to him in surprise. Garith hadn't wasted any time.