Eleanor

by S. F. Burgess

  “Eleanor?”

  Eleanor shuddered and pulled herself upright, the world spinning.

  “Let me hold you for a while, Eleanor, let me help you” Amelia said softly. Stubbornly shaking her head, Eleanor tried to sit more upright, to give the impression of a strength she no longer possessed.

  “Help Freddie,” she said, her voice a thin whisper. It sounded alien to her.

  “I can help you both, if you’ll let me,” Amelia said, an edge to her voice. She raised her eyes to Amelia’s and steel grey regarded her, seeing straight through her facade. Slowly, Eleanor nodded and Amelia smiled, the soft mothering look returning. Carefully, as if she was indeed holding a sick child, Amelia helped Eleanor across to her horse and wrapped a blanket around her. Sighing, Eleanor relaxed. Amelia urged her horse forward again so she could walk at Freddie’s side, a hand through the waist of his trousers to stop him from falling. Eleanor entered their horses’ minds, carefully explaining what was happening and that they could not move at anything faster than a walk without risking Freddie falling off, but that was fine by them, as they were just as tired as she was. Eleanor closed her eyes, the gentle movement and comfortable warmth soothing her into a pleasant doze.

  Eleanor heard the pounding of hooves behind her. She hoped it was Conlan and Will, but she would gladly have welcomed screaming hoards of Protectors, if they would let her stop and sleep. A horse was brought to an abrupt halt beside them, but Eleanor could not bring herself to open her eyes.

  “Eleanor is not your burden to carry, Amelia,” Conlan said irritably.

  “Eleanor is not a burden, Conlan. She is a tired, battered friend in need of my help, as is Freddie,” Amelia told him, the hard edge back in her voice.

  “If they needed help they should have said something,” Conlan persisted.

  “No, they shouldn’t have to say anything; you should have seen what I did and offered. Have you any idea what they’ve just suffered for you?” Amelia snapped back.

  Silence.

  “Maybe we should stop for a while and get some rest?” Will ventured. There was more silence.

  “OK,” Conlan agreed softly. “Give Eleanor to me.”

  “I can handle Eleanor, Conlan, but if you want to move faster than a walk, Freddie is going to need your help,” Amelia said, the edge still in her voice.

  “You’ve been through the same torture that they have, Amelia,” Conlan said, choking on the words. “I’ll help Freddie, but let Will hold Eleanor, you need a break.”

  “You told me I was strong, Conlan,” Amelia said. “Don’t change your mind just as I was starting to believe you.”

  There was another heavy silence.

  “Freddie?” Conlan said quietly. “Freddie... I know you’re tired right now, but we’re going to find somewhere to rest. I’m going to get on your horse behind you, to help you stay in the saddle, OK?”

  There was no answer. Soon they were off again and Eleanor once more relaxed into the comfortable fog. The sounds and even the movement around her seemed distant. Only Amelia’s warm body was real. Behind closed eyelids, Eleanor knew the daylight was fading. She heard the muted whisper of wind through trees, and memories of her first night in Mydren came back to her. She felt the world close in slightly as they moved across the boundary of the forest Conlan had brought them to. She could imagine the trees standing around them in blank regiment as the sun sank into night – ominous to some, but she felt only comfort and sanctuary.

  Amelia pulled her horse to a stop. Eleanor heard Conlan and Will try to ease Freddie gently from the saddle. His soft groan reached Eleanor clearly in the chilly air.

  “Sorry,” Will said.

  “I’m just glad I’m off my horse,” Freddie murmured.

  Drifting now, her eyes closed and her body limp, Eleanor felt herself lifted from Amelia’s arms. Conlan. He held her close, his stubbly cheek gently brushing her face as he whispered.

  “Maybe now you’ll let me carry you for a while.”

  Eleanor could hear the love in his voice. She wanted to say something, but she had no idea what, and exhaustion dragged her into darkness before her tired mind could think of a response.

  Five seconds later she was awoken by gentle shaking. She was warm and comfortable, and she knew that strong arms were holding her close.

  “Go away,” she mumbled, not opening her eyes. “I’m asleep.”

  “We have to keep going, Eleanor. Come on, get up, and wake Freddie while you’re at it.”

  Surprised, Eleanor opened her eyes. It was day, just, the light still grey. Conlan was stooped over her. The arms wrapped around her were Freddie’s. Confusion knotted her brow. Why was Freddie holding her? Why did Conlan not want to hold her? Lifting her head she could see Will and Amelia asleep behind her.

  “I think we need more rest, Conlan,” Eleanor said, still not moving.

  “You can have all the sleep you want in a few days’ time when we have some distance between us and Katadep.” Glowing green eyes held hers, expectant, waiting for her to complain, which made her want do the opposite. She wondered if Conlan knew this. She nodded and Conlan smiled slightly, before moving to wake Will and Amelia.

  “Freddie?” Eleanor said, rubbing the arm wrapped around her waist.

  “Just a few more minutes...” he murmured, and despite his injuries he tightened his grip around her.

  Their day-and-night headlong dash became a monotonous, endless trek. Travelling from sunrise to sunset, they barely had enough strength to eat before dropping into oblivious sleep. Eleanor’s eyes often closed before her body hit the cold, damp earth, not caring if she had a blanket or not and just wanting sleep’s release. Without fail they were woken what felt like moments later, to have the waking nightmare continue. Eleanor was a little hurt each morning when she woke to find Freddie’s arms around her. Conlan seemed different around her, careful, like he did not want to get too close. He hugged her when she asked for it, eventually giving in to her requests and holding her while she slept, but as soon as he knew she was awake in the morning, he was up and off. She made several attempts to kiss him and he gently rebuffed her, looking pointedly at the others asleep around them. She was hurt and confused; she knew he loved her, so why was he reluctant to touch her? Why was he keeping her at arm’s length?

  After eight days of travel, Conlan felt they were far enough away that they could stop for a few days’ rest and make some plans. The light had begun to fade and the temperature was dropping, and a steady, freezing drizzle had soaked her through again. Another wood, more trees, cold, damp earth. Eleanor did not care. She dismounted and took Horse’s saddle and bridle off, dropping them to the ground with her bags and folded herself down on top of them, something in her bag digging into her chest. It hurt, but not enough for her to bother moving. The darkness was calling and she rushed to embrace it.

  When she woke, there was a warming fire blazing in front of her. Her blanket was draped over her and Conlan’s jacket was folded under her head. She lifted herself slightly. Will and Amelia were next to her, Will’s arms wrapped protectively around Amelia’s body even in exhausted sleep. Freddie was sat across from her. He saw her stir and smiled.

  “How long have I been asleep?” she asked drowsily. Her throat was dry and her mouth felt like something had died in it – her tongue, perhaps. There was a water skin lying next to her head. Grateful for someone’s thoughtfulness, Eleanor grabbed it and took long, slow swigs until she felt better.

  “Three days,” Freddie said, watching her drink.

  “Where’s Conlan?” she asked, looking round as she put the stopper back and lay the water skin down where Will and Amelia would see it when they woke up.

  “Collecting firewood.”

  Eleanor slowly sat up. Pulling Conlan’s jacket on, she smiled. She could smell him on it and sighing she hugged it. It was like having him wrap his arms around her, and a warm glow pushed out from her stomach and through her tired and battered body, somehow making ev
erything seem better.

  “Cold?” Freddie asked.

  She shook her head. “Just makes me feel safe.”

  Freddie gave her a long look, an odd expression on his face; it made her guts twist in apprehension. She felt an energy string brush against her and she pulled it in.

  Did I do something wrong, Freddie? You seem… unhappy.

  Not unhappy, thoughtful. I thought I knew what love was, but if you had done to me what you did to Conlan, I wouldn’t have been able to look you in the face again, let alone forgive you. I love you, Eleanor, but not like he does.

  I’m sorry, Freddie, Eleanor whispered, feeling awful for him.

  No, Eleanor, don’t feel bad, he insisted. It’s OK, I’m glad you’re happy. I’m just not looking forward to being the odd one out. I liked having you around. I didn’t feel quite so lonely, but if I’m honest you scare me quite a bit, and you deserve better than that.

  Eleanor felt tears welling up in her eyes. I scare you? I wouldn’t hurt you, Freddie…

  Yes you would, if it was necessary; you have a ruthless, brutal streak in you. That’s not a criticism, Eleanor. You have no idea how glad I am you’re on our side, but it does frighten me and that’s my weakness… Conlan doesn’t have that fear. Wincing, Freddie slowly and painfully stood, moved to her side and wrapped his arms around her. There was no obvious hesitation or fear in the move, which made her feel a little better. Resting her head against his chest she sighed, wiping her tears away.

  You’re still my friend, Freddie; you’re not suddenly going to go invisible.

  Freddie laughed. I’m going to hold you to that.

  Eleanor smiled as he pulled his energy string back. She was still exhausted and the warm fire was making her drowsy. “I think I need to sleep some more.”

  “OK,” Freddie said, releasing his hold. Instinctively she wrapped her arms around him. Freddie gasped at the pain.

  “Sorry, please don’t let go,” she whispered, relaxing as Freddie hugged her close to him and let her sleep against him. She drifted again, the warm fire, Freddie’s firm hold and Conlan’s jacket all combining to make her feel safe, relaxed and loved.

  “Is she OK?” Conlan’s soft growl made her smile; she did not feel able to open her eyes and felt a strange surge of pleasure over the fact that she did not have to. She had spent so long overriding her body’s urgent and increasingly desperate pleas for rest that it felt wonderful to finally be able to give in to it.

  “She’s fine, just tired still.”

  Eleanor felt Freddie’s reassurance rumble through his chest as he unconsciously pulled her closer.

  “You can sleep too, if you want to. I’ll keep an eye on everyone,” Conlan offered.

  “Thanks.”

  There was genuine gratitude in Freddie’s tone and a friendly camaraderie that Eleanor had never heard before. Freddie seemed to have finally got over his distrust of Conlan. Moving with care, Freddie wriggled himself so he could lay down, panting a little at the pain. Eleanor let her limp body fall with him, laying at his side, head on his arm, his gentle snoring relaxing her back to sleep.

  Something brought her from deep sleep to wide awake almost instantaneously. Sitting bolt upright, she stared wide-eyed and frightened. A fire blazed in front of her, her blanket covered her, it was dark and cold.

  “What’s the matter, sweetie?”

  Gasping and feeling foolish for her fear, Eleanor turned towards the voice. Amelia smiled at her. Will, his arms wrapped tightly around Amelia and his back leaning against a tree trunk, watched her carefully. Conlan and Freddie were nowhere in sight. Her mouth and throat felt like she had been asleep for days again.

  “I think I just had a bad dream,” Eleanor said, her voice dry and rough. Amelia moved to crouch at Eleanor’s side, handing her a water skin and stroking her hair as her friend drank greedily. She was still wearing Conlan’s jacket.

  “I think that’s to be expected after what we’ve been through recently,” Will said quietly, giving her a strange look she did not understand.

  “What?” she asked.

  The hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Nothing, it’s just you’ve been talking in your sleep a lot since we left Katadep.”

  Eleanor felt the blood drain from her face.

  “Oh, what have I said?” she whispered, not sure she wanted to know.

  “Mostly you’ve been mentioning Arran,” Amelia said, not looking at her.

  Eleanor felt embarrassment heat her cheeks. “In what context?” she stuttered, panic straining her voice.

  “Not really a context, you’ve just been calling out for him, telling him to come and find us,” Will said.

  “Well I want him to,” Eleanor said.

  “Why? What’s so special about that kid?” Will asked, a genuinely confused look on his face.

  Eleanor smiled. “Quite a lot, actually.” Will looked at her expectantly. She had not intended to tell them unless Arran turned up, but if she was talking about it in her sleep, then maybe she should tell them before she inadvertently blabbed it out. “He practices magic, like we do, but he has the ability to draw energy from all the elements. Apparently this is rare, as most natural magicians learn to rely on one element in childhood and are then unable to access the others later in life, and of course he has no shield.”

  “How did he lose it?” Amelia asked, looking distressed; Eleanor knew she was remembering what it had taken for Conlan to lose his shield.

  “From what I was able to piece together from my brief visit in his head, Daratus tortured him as a child, to the point where he gave up,” Eleanor said softly, unable to keep the pain she felt for him out of her voice.

  “As a child?” Amelia said, horrified.

  Eleanor nodded sadly. “He was taken from his mother the moment he was born and tested for magical talent. He then spent the next ten years locked up in a cell, being forced to practice and expand his abilities.”

  “Do a lot of Enforcers have their shields stripped from them?” Amelia asked.

  Eleanor shook her head. “From what I picked from Arran’s mind, only those with a prodigious talent have their shields stripped – it makes them easier to control.”

  Amelia stared at her in pained silence.

  “How did Daratus know he was going to be born with magical talent?” Will asked.

  “An educated guess, I assume. After all, his mother had high magical ability and one of her other children had displayed some magical talent,” Eleanor said, watching the thoughts and expressions race across Will’s face.

  “Who was his mother?” Will asked.

  “Helena Baydon. Arran and Conlan are half-brothers,” Eleanor said quietly.

  Amelia sat down on the ground with a bump, staring at Eleanor with open-mouthed shock. Having already worked out some sort of idea, Will handled his shock a little better, but they both looked at her for several long minutes before Will broke the silence.

  “Do you have proof?”

  “No, but I’m right. The only person who knows the truth is Daratus. Arran and Conlan have no idea, and even Merl didn’t know,” Eleanor said.

  “Merl? Merl was Arran’s father,” Will said as the pieces fitted together for him. Eleanor nodded.

  “Are you going to tell Conlan?” Amelia asked.

  “I hadn’t intended to, not unless Arran turns up. I was just really hoping that he would come and find us,” Eleanor said. There was another lengthy and stunned silence as Will and Amelia attempted to come to terms with the information Eleanor had given them.

  “You liked him,” Amelia said quietly.

  “Eleanor likes everybody,” Freddie said as he and Conlan stepped into the firelight, carefully dropping the ingredients they had found for dinner in front of them. The glowing green eyes were still a surprise each time she saw them. And still beautiful. He was wearing Will’s spare jacket, and the dark brown looked good on him.

  “Who were you talking about?” Conlan asked s
oftly, not looking at her.

  “Arran,” Eleanor answered, wondering what he had heard. She decided it could not have been anything she did not want him knowing yet, or Freddie would have said something. Conlan nodded, as if her answer was expected, but he said nothing else. They needed to talk, away from the others. Her nerves squeezing at her stomach, Eleanor stood up, and picking up a lantern she walked over to him, making her steps purposeful and confident. She stood in front of him, a hand held out.

  “We need to talk.”

  Conlan’s blank expression turned to apprehension and he slowly shook his head. Eleanor smiled at him.

  “That wasn’t a request, Conlan, that was an order. Get up.” Her voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the steel of resolve beneath it. Reluctantly Conlan got to his feet, took Eleanor’s hand and allowed her to pull him away from the fire. Eleanor walked through the dark wood in silence, looking for a suitable place to stop but mostly trying to calm her nerves. Conlan’s hand in hers was a pleasurable torment and she was tempted to move inside his head to see if he felt the same way. His head is always going to be a temptation.

  She found what she was looking for in the roots of a fallen tree – a small cave-like shelter that would be easy to heat with a small fire. She collected some wood and kindling and used the lantern’s flame to light it. Conlan stood watching in silence. Eleanor could feel his uncertainty. Once the fire had caught, she piled up some bigger pieces of wood beside it and sat in the mouth of the small natural shelter wondering if she should speak first or allow him to.

  “I don’t think I can do this,” he said, the words laced with so much pain that for a moment Eleanor could only stare at him. What can’t he do? Love me?

  “I don’t understand,” Eleanor whispered, feeling her world start to wobble.

  “I’ve learnt to share you with Freddie. It’s been really hard, but I know you love us both and I just want you to be happy. Freddie is a good man, he loves you and I trust him, but I barely know Arran. I’m not sure I’d trust him if he did show up here. I don’t think I can share you with him, too,” Conlan said, his face wrapped in shadows. Eleanor could not see his expressions and she did not understand his words. He thinks he’s sharing me with Freddie? Too stunned and confused to speak, Eleanor stared at him as Conlan kept talking, as if he had to get everything off his chest before she stopped him. “You love Arran, I heard it in your voice. You’ve been calling for him in your sleep. In Mydren having several wives is acceptable, but a woman having several husbands is not. Will has told me that in your world attitudes to love and relationships are different and that marriage is not necessarily part of a relationship, but this is so painful for me… I want you all to myself and it hurts that I can’t have that. I’m really hoping Arran stays away.”