Duty: a novel of Rhynan (17 page)

“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 traveled 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.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

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.