"I have," Gorren said.
His mother shrugged, still looking like the wolf that ate the rabbit, and left the room in a flounce of twirling skirts.
Gorren began to wonder which was worse, his father's denigration or his mother's elation. He would definitely be keeping his eyes and ears open for the opportunity to move out.
~o0o~
Having washed the stink of sweat off, and having changed his clothes, Gorren walked up the corridor to the room that his mother had said Elthrinn was occupying. He raised his fist to knock at the door, and thought it odd that he felt nervous. He rapped twice, sharply, and heard the shuffle of movement before the door opened.
Elthrinn was dressed much as she had been the night before, in the sort of outfit that could be commonly found in Dorvek. She would not stand out among the natives of the country, at least, not until Dythegg when she would be the only inhabitant on two legs. The leather overdress that she was wearing now was a little shorter than the one she'd worn the day before. That was good, it fit well with his plans. The clothes suited Elthrinn, they highlighted her figure in a flattering way that was quite distracting. Gorren realised he was in danger of staring too hard.
Gorren coughed into his fist to stave off the flush of embarrassment that threatened. "Would you like to see some more of Dorvek? If, of course, several weeks' riding hasn't satisfied your curiosity."
Gorren coughed again. Damn it! He was almost stuttering in the presence of this little stranger.
"I'd like that, very much. Thank you."
Elthrinn's voice was soft, and in perfect accordance with the blush that rose from the open throat of her shirt, and up her neck. Gorren turned, rather than be caught staring again, and made room for Elthrinn to step into the corridor. He waited while she locked her door. He didn't blame her one bit for wanting to maintain her privacy. This might be his family home, but he'd locked his own door.
As they walked through the hall he thought of a hundred ways to try and start some sort of conversation, but he couldn't decide on one that didn't sound trite or ignorant. They were silent so long that he began to worry what Elthrinn was thinking, but he'd be damned if he was about to ask, or say anything about that within the walls of a place where anyone might, and probably would, be listening.
When they entered the stables, Elthrinn stopped walking suddenly. Gorren realised that she'd had no idea where he was taking her, but he was no less confused by her abrupt halt.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't think I can." Elthrinn looked frantically at the horses that were hanging their heads over their stall doors, whickering or quietly munching stalks of hay.
"Excuse me?" Gorren asked.
Elthrinn seemed to sag. "I rode for a whole moon to get here. I honestly don't think I can get on a horse again, at least, not today."
Gorren looked at the rows of horses, as if one of them might neigh out a solution. "We won't see much on foot."
"I'm sorry, but really, please don't make me."
Gorren paused a while longer, looking around for inspiration. When the idea struck, he wondered at the wisdom of it, but he could not think up any other plan that didn't involve them walking around town being gawped at.
"I have an idea."
"What is it?"
He had to chuckle at the suspicion in Elthrinn's voice. "Do you want to stay in town and have everyone stare at you while they're pretending not to?"
"No, it's a most uncomfortable sensation."
"Is the thought of getting on a horse worse than that?"
Elthrinn paused, seriously considering her answer. "Yes, yes I think it is."
"I have a compromise of sorts, but you'll have to trust me."
"I'll try," Elthrinn nodded. She didn't sound very trusting, which wasn't surprising considering that they were strangers, but that pointed chin went up, and those tiny shoulders went back.
Gorren set to work saddling a horse. He didn't need a stable hand to do it for him. He'd always hated standing around, twiddling his thumbs, while someone else did a task that really wasn't very onerous. He finished tightening the girth on the saddle, and led the horse over to the mounting block. Even though the bay stallion was tall, Gorren didn't need the step, but Elthrinn was so very much shorter.
Gorren swung himself up into the saddle, and manoeuvred the horse closer to the block.
Elthrinn looked up at him. "So you'll ride, and I'll walk, or run behind, or...?"
"No." Gorren smiled. "Climb the step."
Elthrinn looked at the horse, at the mounting block, at him, at the horse again, and back at him.
"You don't mean...?"
"You could ride by yourself?" Gorren suggested with a grin.
A look of actual pain crossed Elthrinn's face. She stepped up to the top of the block.
"I'm not sure..." Elthrinn's words were lost in the squeak that she let out when Gorren simply reached over out of the saddle, and lifted her bodily to sit across his lap. She weighed about as much as a drenched rabbit.
"There." He couldn't seem to stop grinning. "You get to ride without riding."
Elthrinn was holding herself stiffly upright, keeping her body from touching his. Gorren took up the reins, effectively trapping her between his arms. "You should try to relax, you're unnerving the horse," he advised.
"Never mind the horse, I'm unnerved," Elthrinn muttered.
Gorren flicked the reins, and kicked the horse forward out of the stable and into the sunlight. "That's as may be, but are you more comfortable than you would be astride your own saddle? Are you more comfortable than being stared at?"
"We are being stared at," Elthrinn hissed.
Gorren laughed. "Only until we get out of town.
Elthrinn sighed, obviously resigning herself to her fate, and relaxed, marginally.
"I promise, I won't bite," Gorren murmured.
"That's what your mother said."
Gorren laughed heartily as he spurred the horse to a quicker gait, and rode straight through Cranak. He would show Elthrinn the town when the novelty of their match had worn off, and something else had become the gossip of the day. For now, he would show her the beauty of the countryside. He knew that Dorvek was more northerly than Felthiss, and likely a different kind of terrain than she was used to.
Knowing that she'd approached Cranak from the south east, Gorren headed north. He didn't intend to take her far; they didn't have much more than half a day left to them. They would need to be back at the hall before nightfall, or he was sure his mother would despatch a search party. He skirted the edge of The Glass Lake, so called because when the wind was absent, it perfectly reflected the vista of the snow-covered peaks of the Orys range.
Elthrinn commented that the ground was rockier, less dusty, than Felthiss, and that overall it was cooler. She remarked on the different varieties of trees as well, and the fact that even for so northern a country, there was a lot of greenery. Gorren assured her that when the snows did come, they would come with a vengeance. As they rode, she relaxed by degrees, until she was no longer treating his body like a hot coal. Having her so close was intimate, yet comfortable. Gorren wasn't in any hurry for their day to end.
On a whim, wanting to find somewhere to stop where they wouldn't chance anyone stumbling across them, Gorren decided to take Elthrinn to the waterfall in the forest that he liked to visit. Her look of suspicion returned when he pointed the horse into the thick wall of trees, but she didn't voice any protests.
Gorren halted the horse farther away from the waterfall than he usually did, so that they could avoid the spray. There would be more places to sit, and the rocks were more exposed from the canopy of the trees, which meant they caught more of the sun and were warmer. He lifted Elthrinn off his lap, immediately missing the heat and weight of her body, and set her down on one of the flatter rocks. He dismounted, and led the horse over to a patch of lush grass. Happy that the horse was occupied with filling its stomach and would not wander, Gorren returned
to Elthrinn.
Elthrinn had seated herself on a different rock, one that hung over the stream. She was peering over the side into the swirling crystal water. Gorren climbed up beside her, and she shifted to make room for him. When he tried to see what she was looking at, he found that there was a small shoal of silver fish that were enjoying the peace of one of the eddying pools.
They sat in contented silence for a while, soaking up the rays of the sun, and the scents of the trees and earth. After a while, the forest animals became used to their presence and resumed their chittering and chirping.
"You said you'd been at the temple nearly three years," Gorren began.
Elthrinn didn't jump when he spoke, even though he had expected her to.
"Yes. I joined when I was sixteen."
Gorren did the maths, and was both surprised and horrified. Elthrinn was barely more than a child, but she conducted herself with such maturity and poise that he would have credited her with more years than she laid claim to.
"You're shocked," Elthrinn stated.
"Yes," Gorren replied honestly. "You're so young."
"It only seems so, because you're so old." Elthrinn took the sting out of her words with her smile, but Gorren liked the fire in her attitude.
"Why did you choose to become a priestess so young? You had your life head of you." Gorren couldn't ever imagine resigning himself to any kind of regime that was so strict. He discounted army life from his reasoning; the exhilaration and excitement of the battles, and the camaraderie, was worth any effort.
Elthrinn sighed and leaned back onto her elbows, stretching her legs out before her. "I was trying to avoid being married off."
"Your plan worked excellently then."
"So it would seem."
Gorren liked that she didn't take offense at his teasing. "But why would you be at such risk that you'd sign your life away? Why were you chosen for this duty?"
Elthrinn shrugged, taking the questions at their face value rather than as an insult.
"I'm not sure, except that I was available to be chosen, I suppose."
"Are you family to Erkas?"
"No, not really. Sort of. My brother grew up with Erkas and his sister Serwren." Elthrinn paused, Gorren thought maybe he saw a hint of rising tears, but whatever he had seen was gone before he could be certain. "My father was a consul. When he died, Serwren's father, Dimacius, the First Father at the time, took me on as his ward. Except that I went to live with Serwren in the country, in a little village away from the city. When Dimacius died, Erkas became leader of Felthiss. He likes to think we're cousins, of a fashion."
"You had no mother to care for you?"
"She died giving birth to me," Elthrinn said, so matter-of-factly that it shocked Gorren. He couldn't imagine never having known his mother's love.
"So you're an orphan, apart from your brother?"
This time Gorren was sure he saw tears rise in Elthrinn's eyes, but she fought them back. "Yes. Jorrell joined the army, years and years ago. I haven't seen him since the day he left. He's never sent a letter, or any kind of message. I have no idea where in the world he is, or if he's dead or alive."
Gorren looked intently at Elthrinn. "There's a famous, infamous, General Jorrell of the Felthissian army currently in Litt. The stories of his victories there, and in other countries, are well-known. He's very nearly a legend."
Elthrinn shrugged again. "That might be him, I suppose. He started as an ordinary soldier, he might have been promoted. But it's not an uncommon name in Felthiss, it could be someone else. Anyway," Elthrinn sat up, turned to face Gorren, and sat cross-legged. "Tell me about your family."
"There isn't much to tell," Gorren hedged.
Elthrinn cocked her head to one side. "Is it true you can turn into a wolf?"
Gorren smiled at her naiveté. "Yes."
"Can I ask you about it?"
He appreciated her politeness, but he was still surprised at her ignorance. "You don't know anything about it?"
"No," Elthrinn said. "I suppose I might have been taught about your country, if I'd stayed in Thrissia, but schooling became a little... sporadic, once we moved out to the countryside. Can you change whenever you want?"
"Yes. but we don't do it often. It's very like being a real wolf. You feel the urge to hunt. We're a nation of wolves. If we changed all the time, there would be nothing left to hunt. It's mainly for celebrations, like Dythegg, and battle."
"Hmmm. That gives me several more questions. How does that help in a battle, changing into wolves?"
"You're thinking that we change into big dogs?" Elthrinn nodded. "We do, most times, but in battle, males can change into a half-form."
Elthrinn's eyes widened.
"Don't worry, we don't walk around like that when we're not fighting." Gorren only just managed to speak through his amusement at her fear.
"Does it hurt to change?" Elthrinn asked, her eyes still wide.
"Some people find it uncomfortable, I think. They act like they do. I've never found it so."
Elthrinn dipped her head, looking at her hands, which lay in her lap. Her glossy hair was braided in a coil that rested over her shoulder, otherwise Gorren would not have been able to see that she was blushing. He could only imagine what questions must be running through her mind to make her glow like a star.
"Just ask, Elthrinn, and I'll answer."
She looked up, staring at him shyly from under long, dark lashes. "Will I ever get to see you as a wolf?"
"Yes, as a full wolf. But no, the Grey Wolf willing, you'll never have reason to see me in my other form."
Elthrinn nodded at that, catching his meaning perfectly. "What's Di-theg?"
"The twelfth moon of the year. Everyone in Dorvek changes together on that night, and we hunt, as a pack."
Elthrinn's eyes turned sad again and she stared out into the depths of the forest. "I won't be able to join you, though."
"No. You won't," Gorren confirmed.
"Am I the only foreigner in Cranak? I don't think I saw anyone that didn't look like they were Dorvern on my journey."
"It's likely that you're the only foreigner in Dorvek, let alone Cranak. We're not a nation that attracts migrants."
Elthrinn's half smile pulled at something painful in Gorren's chest. "That's alright. I'm used to being alone."
Chapter Eleven
She hadn't said the words to gain sympathy. To her, they were simply a statement of fact, but Gorren's expression twisted into something between shock, confusion, and disgust. Elthrinn wasn't sure why he should react so strongly to something simple, and so true.
"What do you mean by that?" he demanded.
"My mother left me when I was born. My brother left me when I was seven. My father died when I was twelve. Serwren suggested I leave her when I was sixteen, and the temple wasn't full of people who wanted you to be there, it was just where I was. My whole life has been about people leaving me, or me having to leave them." She shrugged. Her past was her past, there was nothing she could do to change it. Wallowing in self-pity would make not one bit of difference. "I'm sure I'll be alone again in the future, too."
Gorren was shaking his head. His hair, which was long and loose, was catching the sun with sparks of copper and gold. "You won't be alone anymore."
"I'm more alone than ever," Elthrinn said ruefully. "I'm alone in a country of people who are nothing like me."
"That's as may be. But you have a mother now, and you will have a husband, and through that connection you will have a father and a brother again."
Elthrinn cocked her head to one side. She sensed a chance to ask some of the questions that she had thought would be too impolite to broach. "What a curious order to your words."
"I don't think so. You have a mother whether you like it or not. My mother will not easily release you now, whether our marriage is a success or not. She likes you too much. You will have a husband, it is, after all the primary reason for your being here, and by that associat
ion, you will have a brother and a father."
"I'm not so sure."
Gorren was beginning to look angry. It was strange how those dark eyes, which she'd noticed were really a very deep brown, could turn almost completely black when he was unhappy.
"Please, explain your meaning."
"Your father and brother seem... separate, somehow."
Gorren's ire did not so much dissipate as shift its focus. He sighed, and looked off into the trees. He was evidently reluctant to answer. "We don't... agree, or get on much at all."
Searching the Darkness (Erythleh Chronicles Book 2) Page 11
