“Happy now?” he muttered.
“No. You need to lie down, Will’s sedatives are strong and you’re too heavy for me to lift, so get up and get yourself into bed,” Eleanor ordered.
Sighing with annoyance, Conlan lumbered to his feet and moved towards the bed, stumbling as the sedative began to take effect. Eleanor put a shoulder under his arm, helping him. He made it – just – and collapsed back into the pillows, dragging Eleanor with him. She untangled herself and pulled his boots off, lifting his legs onto the bed. He gazed at her, his eyes glassy, eyelids trying to drop as he fought the drug.
“I hated him for doing that to me,” he said thickly.
Hated who? Does he mean Will?
“Hated who for what?” Eleanor asked.
“My father. I hated him for disowning me, and now I’ve done it to a child I’ve not even met.”
Eleanor sat next to him on the edge of the bed, her heart aching at the pain and misery in his voice.
“Your child won’t hate you, Conlan, your child will understand,” she said softly. She saw the doubt in his eyes, but he stopped fighting and allowed the sedative to drag him away. She watched his peaceful sleep for a while, wondering if she was right, if his child would forgive him, would understand. She leaned forward and gave his forehead a soothing kiss, feeling a little guilty, knowing he would have objected if he had been conscious.
The Chalice
They stayed in Drent for several weeks. Eleanor welcomed the time to recover, as her wrist itched and throbbed and she still felt sick if she overtaxed herself or strained the muscles in her stomach. Conlan retreated into brooding silence, rarely leaving his room, but he ate and drank what they brought him with little more than an irritated glance. Sleep and decent meals had a positive effect and he began to look better, even if his mood did not improve. The evening before they left, Eleanor had insisted that Conlan leave his room, have a bath, shave and change his clothes. Will had redressed his hand. Eleanor had been relieved to see that the infection had died down, leaving just a raw, ugly wound. Instead of retreating back to his room, they had been surprised when he had chosen to sit and eat with them. He said nothing, but it was not an unpleasant, distancing silence; he looked comfortable, relaxed in their presence as they laughed and talked around him, content to just be there without having to engage.
As they packed up the next morning, it occurred to Eleanor that Conlan would not get to enjoy his new saddle, because they were going to turn Rand into a pack mule again. This seemed a little unfair, so she gave him Remic’s coin bag again and asked him to buy them all horses, pointing out it was time she learnt to ride and that it would make travel far quicker. He nodded, taking the money from her and asking Will to accompany him to the stables to help.
Eleanor stood outside the inn with Amelia and Freddie, waiting in the mid-morning heat, when they heard hooves approaching down the street. Rand came towards them. The animal was so ecstatic to be back with Conlan that he was almost skipping, his beautiful grey coat and silvery mane shining and his new saddle and bridle standing out against his muscular body, silver studs reflecting dazzling flashes of sunlight. Rand’s steps were precise and fluid and sat proudly on his back Conlan moved with him, as if they were one, the animal’s movements an extension of his own. Eleanor knew she was staring at him, but she did not feel so bad when she realised that Amelia stood next to her doing the same thing.
“Wow,” she breathed. “He really can look the part when he wants to.”
Eleanor nodded, awestruck.
As they got closer, they saw Will behind him on a large, black, grumpy-looking horse of his own, holding the reins to three others. Eleanor did not waste much time looking at the other animals, as she had eyes only for Conlan; he gently halted Rand at her side and looked at her, a genuine, happy, stunning smile spreading across his face, lighting up his bright green eyes.
This is why women in those silly romantic novels swoon
, Eleanor thought as her heart pounded nosily in her chest and the dusty street spun around her. She returned the smile, grinning stupidly at him because suddenly there were no thoughts in her head, not a single one. His smile, after so many weeks of misery, was like finding flowers in the desert; an unexpected miracle that she was struggling to appreciate fully.
“Thank you for the new saddle, Rand looks very handsome in it,” he said. She nodded dumbly, still smiling like a moron and profoundly grateful when Amelia dragged her away under the pretence of helping her mount her horse.
“You cheered him up, well done, but unless you
want
to take this moment to declare undying love for him, I suggest you pull yourself together,” Amelia whispered in her ear as she pulled her towards the small caramel-coloured horse that Will had indicated was Eleanor’s. Eleanor froze and stared at the taller woman. Amelia smiled at her.
“Oh sweetie, how could I not know? We all know, it’s so obvious; how Conlan’s missing it is beyond me. Why don’t you just tell him?”
Eleanor’s panicked mind flooded her with answers to this question and they all came tumbling out in a whispered, breathless rush. “Because he’ll laugh at me, because he needs a queen, because he wants children and I can’t have them, because his rejection will destroy me.”
Amelia stared at her. “OK, you have reasons, but not especially valid ones. Have you thought that he might actually love you back?”
Eleanor raised an eyebrow at Amelia and the woman shrugged.
“Well maybe not,” she agreed. “But he might want to, if you tell him how you feel.”
Eleanor shook her head violently and Amelia sighed. Saying nothing more on the matter, she showed Eleanor how to mount her horse, giving her quick instruction on how to hold the reins and guide the animal. What she was saying was familiar to Eleanor, as she had ridden Rand, but this would be the first time she would be fully in control and it gave her a thrill of fear and excitement, helping distract her mind from Conlan. She pushed into the animal’s head and was pleased with what she found – it might be a small horse, but the mare was brave and dependable. Eleanor sent her feelings of affection, liking the way the animal’s body relaxed as she did so. She gently sent a question, asking the animal for her name. The reply was the Dwarfish word for ‘horse’. Eleanor smiled, as a horse called ‘Horse’ seemed very appropriate. They headed out of town and Eleanor felt a pang of loss. She had liked Drent, but with every mile they travelled Conlan’s mood improved, so she found it hard to miss the place. Eleanor had studied the map of Mydren in Gregor’s book and had been surprised when Conlan had told them they needed to go north along the central mountain range, before they could turn west across the mountains to where the five rivers met. Eleanor had questioned this, earning herself a look of supreme irritation as Conlan had explained that if they moved directly west from Drent they would have to negotiate volcanoes active enough to spit fire, which had confirmed her suspicions about Mydren’s underlying plate tectonics. So they headed north for three weeks and then turned west.
Mydren’s central mountains were not as high or as barren as the mountains of the north, which Eleanor still considered home. They were gently sloped and mostly covered in a thick blanket of dark green grass, which looked so inviting that when Eleanor had first seen it she had insisted on getting off her horse and running through it barefoot, its spongy, tickling softness a pure delight. It was high summer. Beautiful blue-sky days, a floral scent heavy in the languid air, the soft, light breeze and the sounds of insects and birds gave way to sultry evenings and warm peaceful nights. Even when it rained, it was light and pleasant, leaving them feeling refreshed and cooled. Foraging was plentiful and hunting was good, and without Eleanor’s help they ate well for a change, not pushing themselves too hard and sleeping in on some mornings until the sun had fully risen. Eleanor began to feel truly connected to the earth and felt its power pulse through her; she felt so very much alive that she did not seem to be able to stop smiling.
At Amelia’s insistence they had begun using some of their free time to explore their abilities. They spent an hour every morning sat together in quiet meditation, their energy strings woven tightly together as they explored the world around them, pushing their energy strings far out across Mydren. Eleanor was amazed to discover just how far they could reach when they used their energies together. Individually they were powerful, but together they were unstoppable. They learnt to feel the energies of their own and each other’s elements, learning how to balance them and how to manipulate the flow. Amelia had been their teacher – the solid, skilful grasp she had of her own abilities when it came to manipulating the weather was their best instruction. It soon became obvious to them that balancing the elements required the delicate attention of all four of them working in harmony; for instance, it was no use Freddie attempting to stop a forest fire if air was fighting against him, and Will was unable to stop a raging flood without Eleanor giving him somewhere to divert the water. When it came to balancing the earth Eleanor needed all the help she could get. Once they got the hang of it they worked together in silence – there was no need for conversation, in their heads or anywhere else, as they were so close they could feel the thoughts of the others. Conlan had asked them to explain what it felt like, a curious look on his face. They had tried, but it was difficult, as they were not reading each other’s minds, rather each other’s intentions, instinctively knowing what the others needed to provide balance. It felt like riding Rand; Eleanor had tried to explain that it felt like a balance of control and power aligned with the pure joy of letting go sometimes and allowing yourself to get carried along. Conlan had smiled at that, a feeling he could understand.
As they travelled they discussed aspects of their old world that could be replicated in Mydren, insights they could bring to their adopted world. This had been prompted by Eleanor asking Conlan what was beyond the sea that surrounded Mydren’s land mass in the maps. He had looked at her blankly; Eleanor had been horrified that nobody had ever thought to look. She had explained the very serious spirit of discovery that most people had on her world. Conlan had asked where the benefit lay in knowing how tall a mountain was or what was on the other side of an ocean. Eleanor had smiled and told him that the spirit of exploration had taken men from her world to the moon, pushing forward the boundaries of medicine and science, hugely expanding human knowledge. Conlan had pointed out, unhappily, that the hard work of surviving broke most people’s spirits and that the Lords of Mydren, who had the time and wealth to explore, were far too busy stabbing each other in the back, sometimes literally. Will had told Conlan that education, research and learning were something he could encourage as king, the concept driving Conlan into a deep, thoughtful silence that had lasted several days.
The journey east across the mountains took them several months, and Eleanor knew she had never felt happier. She pushed all her dark and unpleasant thoughts about the future to the back of her mind, and she even tried not to think about the book and Conlan’s shield. Instead, she concentrated on enjoying each day, the beauty of the world around her and the company of those she loved. As they came out of the mountains, the fun stopped abruptly. Will and Conlan started having quiet, serious conversations that Eleanor could not hear. After three days of their odd behaviour she wanted an explanation. Pulling Horse to a stop, she dismounted and stared at the whispering men, until they noticed her.
“What is it?” Conlan asked.
“I want to know what you and Will are whispering about, it’s making me nervous,” she said bluntly.
“We’re trying to decide the best way to get to where we’re going,” Will answered.
“If all you are doing is plotting a course, why can’t the rest of us help you decide?” Eleanor asked.
“Because it’s not as simple as that, Eleanor,” Conlan said, his jaw muscles tensing with the flash of irritation in his eyes.
“No,” Eleanor agreed. “It never is.”
Conlan swung himself off Rand’s back and marched towards her, Freddie seeming to appear out of nowhere as he moved closer.
“Eleanor, get my grandfather’s book out,” Conlan ordered, giving Freddie an irritated look as he stood at Eleanor’s side, arms crossed over his chest. Turning to her horse, Eleanor rummaged in a bag and pulled out the book. Conlan snatched it off her, and moving to the back he quickly flicked through until he found the map of Mydren. Holding it out in front of her, he pointed.
“This is where we are now.” He moved his finger. “This is where we need to be; in between these two points is the Central Tower, the main seat of power for the Lords of Mydren, and around it hundreds of towns and villages, along with thousands of Protectors. We are trying to work out a safe way through.”
Eleanor frowned and then looked at the map. “Will, lend me one of your pencils, please.”
Will walked over, handed her a pencil and looked over at the map enquiringly. Carefully, she drew a thin line, plotting a straight course from their position to the five rivers, straight through the middle of Protector territory and taking them within three or four miles of the Central Tower. Conlan looked at her, slightly perplexed. Eleanor smiled.
“They have no idea who we are, so nobody is looking specifically for us. If the area we are going to walk through is as populated as you say, we’ll just be five more in a multitude. As long as we don’t do anything to draw attention to ourselves, we should just be able to blend in. I don’t think we’re that important to the Lords of Mydren yet, and frankly we should take advantage of this situation for as long as it lasts.”
“I’m sorry, Conlan, but I don’t think I can fault her logic,” Will said.