Blade of Fortriu (12 page)
Authors: Juliet Marillier
“You can’t lie down, not here,” she snapped. “Not unless you want a tree falling on your head. We have to walk. Walk, one, two, come on! We
have to fetch the horse, find a dry place to shelter, make fire.” Gods, she hoped so much that the horse was still there. That there was a flint in the saddlebags. That Faolan would last the distance. “Come on, move!” she ordered. “I’ll help you, but I can’t do it all. I’m just a spoiled princess, remember? It’s you who are supposed to be the leader. You’re meant to be looking after me. Careful,
there’s a boggy patch there …”
have to fetch the horse, find a dry place to shelter, make fire.” Gods, she hoped so much that the horse was still there. That there was a flint in the saddlebags. That Faolan would last the distance. “Come on, move!” she ordered. “I’ll help you, but I can’t do it all. I’m just a spoiled princess, remember? It’s you who are supposed to be the leader. You’re meant to be looking after me. Careful,
there’s a boggy patch there …”
Perhaps her prayer had been heard. Perhaps it had reached the ears of the Flamekeeper, a god who valued courage and tenacity. The light held until they staggered back onto the track by the place where there had been a ford, only that morning. Dusk was falling as they climbed the hill to find Faolan’s horse still waiting patiently where Ana had left it. Dark held
off while they made their slow way higher, each on one side of the horse, comforted by its warmth, its solidity in a world where all was gone awry. They found a place where a rock wall formed an overhang; where, within, there was a tolerably dry expanse of level ground with sheltering bushes to either side and a stand of pines in front. Waves of violent shivering wracked Faolan’s body. When Ana unstrapped
the saddlebags and brought them over, he could not still his hands sufficiently to help her unpack them. There was a rolled blanket behind the saddle. She fetched this as well, then hobbled the horse and left him to find what fodder he could. There were grasses aplenty; he would eat better than they.
off while they made their slow way higher, each on one side of the horse, comforted by its warmth, its solidity in a world where all was gone awry. They found a place where a rock wall formed an overhang; where, within, there was a tolerably dry expanse of level ground with sheltering bushes to either side and a stand of pines in front. Waves of violent shivering wracked Faolan’s body. When Ana unstrapped
the saddlebags and brought them over, he could not still his hands sufficiently to help her unpack them. There was a rolled blanket behind the saddle. She fetched this as well, then hobbled the horse and left him to find what fodder he could. There were grasses aplenty; he would eat better than they.
By now, Ana was hardly thinking about what she was doing. Her body was simply going about the
necessary tasks in what seemed to be the best order. Faolan was white-faced and trembling, with a look in his eye that worried her more than she was prepared to admit. She untied the twine that bound the blanket; where it had been tightly rolled it was tolerably dry, most certainly the driest item they had between them. Every piece of clothing they wore was saturated. And the night was growing cold.
necessary tasks in what seemed to be the best order. Faolan was white-faced and trembling, with a look in his eye that worried her more than she was prepared to admit. She untied the twine that bound the blanket; where it had been tightly rolled it was tolerably dry, most certainly the driest item they had between them. Every piece of clothing they wore was saturated. And the night was growing cold.
“Here,” she said. “Get that shirt off, and the tunic. Wrap this around you. And tell me there’s a flint in these bags somewhere.”
“You—” Faolan managed as she passed the blanket.
“I need to get a fire going. Take your things off. We’re not at White Hill now. If you’re to be any help to me at all, you must get warm.”
He stared at her, eyes shadow-dark in a face still drained of color. He made
no attempt to remove his wet clothes.
no attempt to remove his wet clothes.
“Do I have to undress you like an infant? Let me put this in plain words. I can’t get to Briar Wood on my own, Faolan. I need you. Now do as I say. If I can make a fire, we have some hope of drying our things. Flint? Where?”
He gestured, hand shaking. “Wood … wet …” he muttered, wincing as he tried to slip his tunic over the damaged arm.
“Oh, shut up!”
Ana said, finding the flint and, to her immense relief, a bundle of dry tinder compressed into an oiled bag. “There happens to be a supply of old wood up there under the rock shelf; others have been here before us. I’m not stupid.”
Ana said, finding the flint and, to her immense relief, a bundle of dry tinder compressed into an oiled bag. “There happens to be a supply of old wood up there under the rock shelf; others have been here before us. I’m not stupid.”
Making the fire required a number of attempts; her own hands were less than steady, and her arms were so weary it was hard to summon even the force required to strike
a spark. As the Flamekeeper sank below the rim of the world and night fell, her own small flame flared and caught, and the dry log she had dragged to the center of the open space began to burn. She rummaged for anything else that could be used for fuel: along the shallow cave lay twigs and thin boughs and needles, perhaps hastily stored by others for just such a makeshift camp.
a spark. As the Flamekeeper sank below the rim of the world and night fell, her own small flame flared and caught, and the dry log she had dragged to the center of the open space began to burn. She rummaged for anything else that could be used for fuel: along the shallow cave lay twigs and thin boughs and needles, perhaps hastily stored by others for just such a makeshift camp.
Faolan had scarcely
moved. His sodden upper garments lay in a heap; he sat with the blanket around him, staring into the fire. Ana wondered if she would ever be really warm again. She could not believe that she had found that earlier shelter cramped and uncomfortable. Faolan hadn’t said a word about what had happened. There was no need to say it, Ana thought. It was all there in his eyes.
moved. His sodden upper garments lay in a heap; he sat with the blanket around him, staring into the fire. Ana wondered if she would ever be really warm again. She could not believe that she had found that earlier shelter cramped and uncomfortable. Faolan hadn’t said a word about what had happened. There was no need to say it, Ana thought. It was all there in his eyes.
His saddlebags were those
of a seasoned traveler. Ana took out what would be immediately useful: a full waterskin; a packet containing strips of dried meat, dark and leathery; a shirt, plain of design, made in what felt like very fine linen. A pair of trousers in dark wool. They had been well wrapped in protective coverings, and were almost dry. His good clothes, for Briar Wood. He was, after all, the king’s personal emissary.
of a seasoned traveler. Ana took out what would be immediately useful: a full waterskin; a packet containing strips of dried meat, dark and leathery; a shirt, plain of design, made in what felt like very fine linen. A pair of trousers in dark wool. They had been well wrapped in protective coverings, and were almost dry. His good clothes, for Briar Wood. He was, after all, the king’s personal emissary.
“You,” Faolan said. “Wear those. Dry.”
“Me?” Ana stared at him. “These are your special things. Besides—” There was an argument somewhere in her mind, an argument that had to do with what was proper for a lady, and what people would think. After today, it seemed meaningless. “You should wear them,” she said. “You’re freezing.”
“Put them on,” Faolan told her. “I have the blanket. Go on.”
“I
don’t think—” she protested.
don’t think—” she protested.
“Put them on, Ana. I won’t look.”
So she did, and very odd it felt to be clad like a man, though the trousers did allow a freedom of movement that made the tasks of fetching wood and draping the wet clothing near the fire a great deal easier.
Ana settled by the blaze with her sodden shift in one hand and the knife Faolan had given her in the other, and proceeded
to rip the garment into short, serviceable lengths. These, at least, could be dried quickly. Faolan was watching her, a question in his eyes.
to rip the garment into short, serviceable lengths. These, at least, could be dried quickly. Faolan was watching her, a question in his eyes.
“Women’s business,” she said, thinking that what, yesterday, had been too awkward and embarrassing to mention was now no more than commonplace. “I’ll need these for a day or two more.”
There was a little silence. “I’m sorry,” Faolan said so quietly she
could barely hear him.
could barely hear him.
“For what? Because we must speak of such matters openly now? Because I’m reduced to tearing up my fine clothing for such a mundane purpose?”
He said nothing. The unspoken loomed between them, a dark shadow.
“This is not your fault, Faolan,” Ana said in a different tone; the brisk, authoritative voice she had maintained for so long had suddenly deserted her. “It happened.
I could just as well blame myself for causing the delay. There’s no point in that. We’re here. For some reason known only to the gods, we’ve survived. We must go on. There’s nothing else to be done. Here.” She passed a strip of the fine linen across to him. “Hold this up to dry. We’ll need to bandage that arm properly.”
I could just as well blame myself for causing the delay. There’s no point in that. We’re here. For some reason known only to the gods, we’ve survived. We must go on. There’s nothing else to be done. Here.” She passed a strip of the fine linen across to him. “Hold this up to dry. We’ll need to bandage that arm properly.”
“It’s nothing. A flesh wound.”
“All the same, I would prefer to see it kept
reasonably clean. I imagine you want the best chance of using your arm to its full capacity again. If you let ill humors into the wound, anything could happen. I’ll dress it for you when the bandage is dry.”
reasonably clean. I imagine you want the best chance of using your arm to its full capacity again. If you let ill humors into the wound, anything could happen. I’ll dress it for you when the bandage is dry.”
There were things to be done, small tasks to stave off the time when there would be nothing but the dark and the images of today. They forced themselves to eat a little of the dried meat,
though neither had any appetite. They drank from the waterskin. Rainwater had pooled here and there among the rocks; between this and the grasses, the horse would be adequately provided for. Ana bandaged Faolan’s wound, despite his protest that he could do it himself.
though neither had any appetite. They drank from the waterskin. Rainwater had pooled here and there among the rocks; between this and the grasses, the horse would be adequately provided for. Ana bandaged Faolan’s wound, despite his protest that he could do it himself.
“What is this?” she asked him as she wrapped the cloth carefully around the muscular arm, and saw that above the ripped skin and
oozing flesh of the new wound there was an older scar, that of a deeper injury long ago healed.
oozing flesh of the new wound there was an older scar, that of a deeper injury long ago healed.
“That? The first time I met Bridei, he put an arrow through me. Fortunately he wasn’t aiming to do serious injury, only to slow me down.”
“
Bridei?
Why would he do such a thing?” Ana could not imagine this at all. Faolan was Bridei’s most loyal supporter. In the past, she had considered this his only
redeeming feature.
Bridei?
Why would he do such a thing?” Ana could not imagine this at all. Faolan was Bridei’s most loyal supporter. In the past, she had considered this his only
redeeming feature.
“He didn’t like the sound of my voice.” Faolan’s tone was curt; the tale would have to wait until she could ask Bridei himself, or Tuala. No; that was not going to happen. For a moment she had forgotten where she was and where she must go. It could be years before she saw her friends again. Abruptly, it all came flooding back: Briar Wood, Alpin, the long future among strangers.
The fact that her own family had consented to the marriage, without even finding out what she thought. It was as if she had ceased to exist save as a playing piece. Yet today, in the face of grief and terror, she felt more real than ever before.
The fact that her own family had consented to the marriage, without even finding out what she thought. It was as if she had ceased to exist save as a playing piece. Yet today, in the face of grief and terror, she felt more real than ever before.
“What is it?” Faolan’s eyes were intent on her as she knotted the ends of the linen together and sat back on her heels.
“Nothing.” She could feel tears
close now: such a foolish thing to start them off, after everything.
close now: such a foolish thing to start them off, after everything.
“It was something. You’re distressed.”
She would not tell the truth; it sounded weak and pathetic. “Those men, the ones who attacked us—what if they find us here?”
Faolan seemed to consider this before he answered. “I would reassure you with a lie,” he told her, “but I know you would see through it. In truth, I am too weak
at present to defend you adequately, even against a single armed man. I would do the best I could. Tomorrow I will be stronger. It’s more than likely they don’t have folk on both sides of the river. Ged’s man identified it as a border between the territories of rival chieftains.”
at present to defend you adequately, even against a single armed man. I would do the best I could. Tomorrow I will be stronger. It’s more than likely they don’t have folk on both sides of the river. Ged’s man identified it as a border between the territories of rival chieftains.”
“Oh.” Ana pondered this. “You mean we’re in Alpin’s domain now? In Briar Wood?”
“We must be close. Ana, you should
try to sleep. You’re worn out.”
try to sleep. You’re worn out.”
“So should you. But the fire—we must keep watch—”
“I never sleep much. Here—” He was taking off the blanket, holding it out to her. Ana told herself that, under the circumstances, the sight of his naked chest was nothing to be concerned about. She could imagine what Creisa would say. Creisa … so vibrant, so full of life. So young …
“Lie down,” Faolan said. “Try
to rest.”
to rest.”
She gazed at him, the blanket in her hands, and he looked back. The firelight flickered on his skin. He was making a disciplined effort to suppress the shivering.
“Faolan,” Ana said.
He wrapped his arms around his upper body; in that moment she glimpsed a different man, one who was young, weary, and desperately alone.
“I don’t imagine you’re feeling any better than I am right now,”
she said. “It’s freezing cold. It would be stupid to die of a chill just because of propriety. I think we can agree to share the blanket. Nobody need ever know.”
she said. “It’s freezing cold. It would be stupid to die of a chill just because of propriety. I think we can agree to share the blanket. Nobody need ever know.”
“I don’t need to sleep.”
“If you believe that, I can’t imagine why Bridei ever entrusted this to you. Look at it this way. I’m cold to the marrow, and I need both you and this blanket to keep me warm. Unseemly and distasteful as that
may be, if you want to complete the mission and get me to Briar Wood, you’ll do it.”
may be, if you want to complete the mission and get me to Briar Wood, you’ll do it.”
“Spoken like a true princess.”
Ana felt a blush rise to her cheeks. “I’m just doing as my friend Ferada would if she were here. The old Ana, the meek one who likes to do fine embroidery and sing songs, she’s the real one.” She felt the tears spilling from her eyes and reached to scrub them away.
“I’m prepared
to obey orders if they’re sound,” Faolan said. “Here.”
to obey orders if they’re sound,” Faolan said. “Here.”
It amazed Ana how good it felt to lie with him behind her, curled to accommodate her, and the blanket over the two of them. The ground was hard. The shallow cave was full of whispering drafts, for all the sheltering trees and glowing fire. Unwelcome images jostled for space in her head, making the tears run hot and fast. Nonetheless, it was
good. His arm across her, his heartbeat against her seemed protective forces of great power.
good. His arm across her, his heartbeat against her seemed protective forces of great power.
He was saying something.
“What?”
“How did you do it? How could you have the strength to pull me up to safety, against that current?”
“I prayed. The gods helped me. The Flamekeeper does not easily let go a man of great heart. It was he who saved you, not I.”
A silence. She could feel his breathing,
not entirely steady; she suspected the visions that haunted him were even darker than her own. She knew already that the mission was foremost in his mind; she had, indeed, used that to spur him on when his strength was flagging. He must believe he had failed bitterly. Failed his king. Failed his friend.
not entirely steady; she suspected the visions that haunted him were even darker than her own. She knew already that the mission was foremost in his mind; she had, indeed, used that to spur him on when his strength was flagging. He must believe he had failed bitterly. Failed his king. Failed his friend.
“I put no trust in gods,” Faolan said.
“That does not stop them from helping you. From loving
you.”
you.”
“Then the gods are foolish. Their judgment is faulty. I’m not a man of great heart, Ana. I’m not a man like Bridei.”
“I hope someday you come to realize how wrong you are. This was an accident; a terrible conjunction. It was not your doing.”
“There are no gods,” he murmured, rolling onto his back. “Not for me. They cast me aside long ago.”
“But—”
“What happened today was my responsibility,
nobody else’s. A cursed touch; a darkness.”
nobody else’s. A cursed touch; a darkness.”
Ana held her tongue. It was clear to her that he did not speak just of today, but of the past, of something he brought with him, perhaps the same thing that had kept him awake by the fire all those nights, watching over her while his men slept. She did not ask him to explain.
“I’m cold,” she said after a little. “Would you mind moving closer again?”
When he did so, wrapping the protective arm back over her, the confusion of feelings that flowed through her was too much to bear. She began to weep like a child, sobbing without restraint.
Other books
Hellhound on My Trail by D. J. Butler
The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Quotations by Elizabeth Knowles
Shadows and Light by Anne Bishop
The World Duology (World Odyssey / Fiji: A Novel) by Lance Morcan, James Morcan
Cherished (Wanted) by Elliott, Kelly
Homecourt Advantage by Rita Ewing
Unwrapping Liam: A Good Girls Don't Novella by Gennifer Albin
Iris and the Aloha Wedding Adventure by Woolley, Lynelle
Of Witches and Warlocks: The Demon Kiss by Lacey Weatherford
The Runaway Pastor's Wife by Diane Moody, Hannah Schmitt