Return to Caer Lon (12 page)

oOo

Aetynan se onhæle bemeldian se door to Caer

O Hlæfdige

Gehlystan mín bén

Gif I ge cwyctan, gedælan tear

Ond forelæ me turh mín óht

Gif I áfeallan ahlepan me astandan

Ond en ur rihthand álæccan mín

Me cleanheort; me sorthword

Éadmédian to u

O Hlæfdige gehlystan mín bén

Ond aweglætan en Caer Lon

oOo

The young woman woke up in alarm, her breath laboured and her heart thudding. Air hissed through her lips as she tried to calm down. She could not tell if it was still dark, or if dawn had broken already. She felt queasy.

Sacha
wanted to push on
to
her feet, and she realized she was lying on the floor. Standing asked too much out of her, and she fell back on her knees with a little cry.

Her eyes adjusted to the dim light, and she started noticing her surroundings. She crawled on her knees and hands, unable to straighten up, and reached the facing wall, and the body crouched against it.

Dried blood and dirt had formed a crust in the stubble on his chin under her fingers.
His left wrist was clung to the wall at a bizarre angle.
The
left
was bandaged with a rag she recognized to be a piece of her shirt.

Sacha
sat near the prisoner and touched his forehead gently. She felt pain, unable to tell if it was his or her heart bleeding.
Derek
winced when she brushed the cut on his temple. His skin was cool under her fingers. Or maybe it was
hers that
was too hot. She did not know.
Sacha
took her hand away, and nestled against him in the semi-darkness. Her head came to rest on his shoulder, as if it was too heavy to for her alone to bear. Tears tingled in her eyes, hot as they glided on her cheeks.

“I’m sorry…”

His free arm came around her gently, and she drifted off again.

oOo

His face had the color of wax, pale and unhealthy. She recognized the high cheekbones at once, and the full lips, too red and plump for a man. He always complained his mouth was too feminine, but she had forbidden him to grow a beard, pretending it itched
when she kissed him
.

Sacha
grabbed her long skirts, preparing to join her brother, when he turned
to
face her fully. His eyes were the same cornflower blue, warm and kind. She called, but
Elwyn
did not react. Maybe he was too far away to hear her. She called again and waved, but his stare stayed fixed above her head. Why didn’t he see her? She was just in front of him;
Elwyn
!

Sacha
moved forward then broke into a run, but the distance between them refused to shorten.
Elwyn
!
Elwyn
, I’m here, look at me,
Elwyn
!

His head turned toward her again, and she stopped running. He looked surprised. He held one hand up, testing the air. A frown shadowed his handsome features. She stared as he put both hands up, palms wide open in front of him. His brows knitted in some mute effort, as if he was pushing at some invisible wall. His hands fisted into balls and he punched at that glass she could not see.

Suddenly
Sacha
felt something pulling her down, crushing her lungs in a ferocious seize. She gasped and
Elwyn
took one hand to his throat, then the other. Her heart started pounding, hammering against her
chest
painfully.
Air burn
ed
in her lungs.
Her head fell backward and she panicked, unable to breathe.
Elwyn
!
Elwyn
, please help me!
Elwyn
!

Her brother was battering frantically at the barrier that kept them apart, his mouth opening in a call she could not hear.
Sacha
tried to breathe. She was cold. Her vision blurred in a maze of brown and green. So cold. She opened her mouth to scream
. S
omething crawled between her lips. Her stomach revolted. She could not breathe. She jolted, trying to get rid of the suffocating grip. Her fingers grazed her throat, finding nothing.
Please
…

Chapter 12

Sacha
fought to escape the claws of her dream. Her body protested against the merciless grasp retaining her. Still unable to breathe properly, her eyes firmly shut, she wiggled and jerked to break free, gasping for air.

“How… Calm down. You had a nightma-”

“Don’t touch me!”

Her hysteric cry was more effective than her physical attempt to shove
Derek
off
. H
e released her
wrist
s at once.

She wanted to take her blankets up her chest, but his weight forbade it.
Sacha
tugged at the cover harder. She felt ill. She was freezing. She wanted to curl into a ball and be warm again. Her mind was still confused, unable to reconnect with reality; it refused to associate the impressive frame of the man seated on her cot with the prostrate form of her visions.

Sacha
gave another pull on the sheets. Panic spread inside her; she had to get the sheets, she needed to
be warm
…

“Get off! Get off!!”

The shriek echoed dangerously in the silent room.
Derek
pressed one hand hard over her mouth to silence her. Attracting attention in the middle of the night after stealing from the library was low on his list
of priorities
.
H
er fright was starting to affect him as well. He felt powerless in front of her anguish and hated it.

“
Sacha
, be quiet… Everything is fine, it was just-”

Her teeth grazed his palm and he swore, taking his hand away instantly.

“What the hell
?!
”

The young prince stood up,
giving up on
comfort
ing
her; not that he had been very good at it in the first place. Once she could move under her blankets freely, she stayed immobile, her hands clutching the fabric anxiously. Her pupils were dilated with fear, never leaving him.

Indignation added to frustration at the idea
that
she was terrorized because of
him
. Furious with her, or
with
himself for frightening her,
Derek
made no effort to lower his tone.

“I was not forcing myself on you, for Christ’s sake! What
do
you tak
e
me for
?
!
”

He started pacing the room, certain her eyes followed each of his moves despite the darkness. He had just wanted to comfort her. His wandering took him to the opposite wall
,
then
back to the beds and to the wall again. He should have been able to comfort her.

His failure aggravated and embarrassed him. He wished he had more space to give her. Obviously, his very presence added to her distress. It was too late in the night to go down to the main room for even a short moment. Maybe he could pretext some biological urge and leave…

“Please
Derek
…
Elwyn
needs me… Please help me…”

Lost in his thoughts, he
ha
d not hear
d
her approach him, and he jumped at the contact of her hands on him. Pride exploded inside his chest at hearing her beg
so desperately for his help
. He longed to prove himself worth of her trust. Her skin felt icy
cold through the fabric of his shirt.

Shaken by the conflict both ideas
aroused
inside him,
Derek
retreated behind his usual
coldness
, unlocking her fingers from him.

“I am here, aren’t I?”

Her head fell on his chest when his words drained away the last mists of nightmare, as if she had finally regained full consciousness and was too weak to stand by herself.
Derek
straightened her chin up to look at her face. In the moonlight, her eyes were impossibly clear, nearly transparent. He pushed her long hair off her face gently, brushing the soft skin of her cheeks.

“You are not alone. I am here with you. Come back to bed now.”

Sacha
let him guide her to her cot
. She picked up her comb and secured her hair with it
. The gesture, so naturally feminine,
was
something reassuring in her disarray. She cuddled on her side, her knees to her chest.
Derek
tugged the covers up
to
her chin
. T
he gesture reminded her of tucking in a small child. She felt just as vulnerable as one.

When his bed squeaked under his weight, she closed her eyes to concentrate on the sounds the young man made in the dark. His breathing was calm and steady. The peaceful rhythm, almost hypnotic, cradled her until her taut nerves relaxed and her own breathing fell into pace with his. She imagined the regular rise and fall of his chest as he drifted back into sleep. His strong presence created a shelter around her, even if he was several feet away. She felt protected near him, at peace; the feeling intrigued her.

Sacha
exhaled slowly and the warm air rebounded on the sheets to caress her face. She buried her nose in the rough fabric, trying to remember the sensation of
Derek
’s touch on her cheek. It was foolish to see anything but a comrade offering solace in his gentle gestures. In the morning he would be his usual self, contemptuous and infuriating. Now, he acted like he cared.

“Do you want to tell me about your dream?”

The murmur startled her and her cheeks grew hot.
Sacha
was grateful
Derek
could not read her thoughts. She’d been so sure he was sleeping. The wood of his bed cracked
. S
he supposed he had turned on his side. She took a few more seconds before she realized she
needed
him to know.

“
Elwyn
was in a cage of some sort… I could not see it, but I know he was trapped… And when I tried to reach for him, I…
drowned.”

Another sound followed her confession and
Sacha
felt her mattress
dip
under his hand before he found hers to squeeze it.

“I will not allow any harm come to you.”

She believed him. Then she remembered and inhaled sharply.

“You were hurt… We were prisoner
s
and…”
Sacha
paused, as she understood the terrible truth. “You are going to be hurt because of me.”

Hot tears threatened to well.
Derek
pressed her hand again.

“I consider myself warned
,
then.”

He had to be grinning in the dark. The smile reverberated in his whisper.

“And so should you. No more reckless venturing and no luring me so I do you
r
will blindly.”

Sacha
took away her hand, taken aback by his light tone. The bed protested again as
Derek
turned once more before he added.

“I was just kidding,
Sacha
.”

He teased when she was opening her soul, revealing her secret fears to him? And she did not lure him into doing anything! Well, maybe once…

Sacha
scowled, gratitude and freight a foreign souvenir.

“Your sense of humour is dreadful.”

“You are the one to complain.”

“Probably because I am the one who cares.”

She realized too late the double
meaning of her reply. She could nearly see his blue eyes sparkling and waited for the kill, her fragile nerves tensed to a break
ing
point. But
Derek
thankfully held his tongue, ignoring the open door.

When he talked again, the topic was completely different, and on safer grounds.

“Did you decipher the text? You were already asleep when I came up, I did not have the chance to ask you…”

“Yes, I did. It is a prayer, addressed to a goddess of the Old Religion. The prayer is a demand for her mercy and her help to let the supplicant into a High City.
Derek
…” Excitation bubbled in her voice, her previous annoyance forgotten. “I think it describes the way to enter Caer Lon!”

His bed complained again and a few seconds later, the candle’s light blinded her.
Derek
came to sit on her bed again and he handed her the scroll, urging her to read.
Sacha
pushed up against her pillow and unrolled it carefully.