“It would be a huge waste of the last few hours if you ended up stabbing yourself by accident.”
“No, I mean, why did you help me escape? Why didn’t you leave me to fend for myself? You barely know me.”
He gnawed his bottom lip again as he considered his answer. “I made a promise.” He offered no further explanation.
I stared at my feet, not knowing what to say or do next.
“Look,” he said. “This is how to hold a knife when you’re preparing to make a stab.” He raised his hand, demonstrated the proper grasp, and gestured for me to imitate him. “And this is how you hold your shoulders.”
I mimicked him again.
“Of course, that’s only ideal. In hand-to-hand combat, you’ll be lucky to do anything ideally. You’re small and don’t weigh much, so if you’re in a real fight, you better hope you can run for it.”
“But if I can’t....”
He slid his knife back into its leather sheath at his belt. “If you can’t, then I’m not doing my job.”
“So, I should be helpless?”
“You’ve been content with that your whole life. It’s a little late trying to change things, don’t you think?”
The short time he’d been willing to open up to me was clearly over.
As he climbed back on Gespenst, I suspected the day would finish in the same silence in which it had started.
Chapter 3
The clear, late-day sky gave way to thickening clouds, and the wind strengthened. Pending rain permeated the air with a scent like water brought up from the bottom of a deep well, like minerals dissolved from wet earth and stones. Strands of Gideon’s hair danced across his back, and the wind tugged at the wisps that had come loose from my braid.
He reined Gespenst to a halt, turned in his saddle, and spoke out over the rising din. “I think we’re going to get wet. There’s a small town about five miles ahead, but the forest gives out in about two.”
I brought Nonnie closer, so he wouldn’t have to yell.
“The southern lands are rocky hills with little in the way of cover,” he said. “I think we should hunker down here. We don’t want to be the tallest thing around when the lightning starts.”
“You’re afraid of a little lightning?” I could tease him because, for the first time, I had the upper hand. Excitement buzzed in my blood.
He frowned. “It’s not fear, Evie. It’s a healthy respect.”
I would have encouraged us to go ahead, knowing what I knew, but Gideon had never behaved as though my opinions mattered. “So, you want us to sit here and be cold and miserable in the rain?”
“If we can get a fire started before the rain starts, we have a chance at being only miserable.” He slid down from the saddle and delved into his pack, unearthing a pouch containing his flint and a small ball of lint soaked with wax for kindling. He scraped up a small pile of dry pine needles and twigs and laid the lint on top. With a carefully struck spark, the pile began to smolder. He pursed his lips, blowing gently on the embers, and the mound flared into a tiny blaze.
I helped Gideon gather slim branches and shards of bark from fallen trees, and added them a little at a time so as not to smother the newborn flames. When the fire burned hot and fast, we threw on larger branches gathered from the forest floor. The blaze was well set when the first raindrops pattered on the leaves above us.
Gideon pulled his wool blanket around his shoulders and up over his head. He grunted and frowned at me when I settled next to him in my simple cloak. His low expectations stung a little, but how could he know my capabilities? He thought me helpless, and I had done little to dissuade him of that notion.
“What are you doing?” he asked. “Go get your blanket.”
I grinned and pulled up my hood. Gideon sank further into his blanket and ignored me. The rain came down in earnest, but I was warm and dry in my chameleon-colored wrap. My companion didn’t fare so well, and when he poked his head out to check on the storm, he was obviously baffled by my cozy condition. “You’ve been holding out on me. What exactly have you got there?”
If I were a peacock, I would have fanned my tail at him. “It’s my Thunder Cloak.”
“Thunder Cloak?” He fingered the rough woven silk. “It doesn’t look like anything special. Where did you get it?”
“My grandmother made it, of course. Grandfather gave her the secret.”
“People say the stories about your family were myths.”
“Most people think that, these days,” I said.
Gideon’s eyebrows drew together as he considered the possibility, and I imagined him reviewing those legends, trying to decide whether to believe me or not.
“I’ll be glad to share it,” I said. The cloak had many magical properties, and its resistance to rain was a minor one. “It’ll stretch to cover us both.”
He hesitated, but soon traded his sodden cover for my dry one. The cloak did stretch and could have covered Gideon, a horse, and me, but I didn’t want to give away all of my secrets. Not yet.
“So, if your ancestors really were Lords of Thunder,” he said, “Then what does that make you?”
“Nothing, really. My blood is so diluted I can barely scare up a decent gust of wind.”
“But you’ve inherited some of their tricks it seems.” His comment seemed rhetorical so I remained quiet. “Why didn’t you tell me this in the first place, Evie?” He turned and peered at me. His expression softened again, but intensity remained in his eyes.
I shuddered, and perspiration dampened the backs of my knees even though the air around us was cold. Gideon had taken the job as my father’s horse master two years ago. In all that time, he had behaved in a way that deterred me from trying to get to know him. Sitting in close quarters, with his shoulder pressed against mine, contradicted every tendency I felt toward him. Under any other circumstances I would have already given into the urge to scoot as far away as possible.
“You didn’t ask,” I said. “You’re not interested in my capabilities. I’m an obligation, and obligations don’t have any say.” Where did that come from? The heat of a blush erupted over me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.”
“We have a long way to go yet and no time for games.”
“I know, but it helps if I develop some credibility first, don’t you think?” I still thought he would have rebuffed my suggestions without having seen this overwhelming proof.
“Maybe…probably.” He chuckled. “Have you got any more useful tricks up your sleeves?”
The wind shifted and smoke wafted into our faces. I waited for it to clear before I answered. “I really don’t have much of my grandfather or my father in me, but I could get us to the next town without the lightning bothering us.”
If I didn’t know better, his look may have conveyed respect. “That’s a pretty useful trick.”
“Not when you consider my father could control lightning like you control Sephonie.”
“Still...” His voice drifted away as he abandoned his thought. “If the rain doesn’t let up soon, I’m going to take a chance on your diluted blood. I don’t want to lose any more time, and I prefer not to spend a whole night out here in this miserable mess.”
After several minutes of sulking in silence, Gideon surrendered to my suggestion. Under my cloak, we were dry, but cramped and uncomfortable. The idea of a roof and a hot meal must have proven too much temptation. We rode together on Gespenst, still sharing my cloak, while Nonnie plodded behind us.
With Gideon sitting so close behind me, I couldn’t help noticing his body’s subtle strengths as he moved to direct Gespenst. His heat seeped through the layers of clothing between us, and I felt safe and comforted for the first time since leaving home.
The storm had turned the whole afternoon into a dark and dismal soup, but with a steady application of concentration and willpower, I convinced the lightning to leave us alone. Gideon and I reached the tiny village of Brighton after sundown, though how
long after sundown was difficult to determine.
“Well,” he said, “I don’t know if it was your mystical bloodline or simply a bit of good luck, but we’ve made it without the thunder bothering us as you promised.”
I harrumphed. “It wasn’t luck.”
He squinted at me, inspecting me as he might inspect a new horse. Then he snorted and shrugged as if to say it didn’t matter to him either way. “You probably won’t be recognized in this town, so far away from our village, but I don’t want to take chances. A single man passing through won’t linger in anyone’s memory. A single man with a young lady will draw more attention and remain in people’s recollections, especially if anyone is prone to sniff around our trail.”
“If I’m not going into town, then how was the ride through the rain and wind supposed to benefit me?” Hostility seeped into my voice as hunger and exhaustion left me little strength to resist my emotions.
Gideon made a guttural noise in the back of his throat. “I’ll get us a room and steal you in around back, of course. I shouldn’t need to defend my actions.”
“I’ll wait here, then?” I said, contrite. He was right, but he still hadn’t acknowledged my potential usefulness, and his disregard stung.
He stopped us beneath a small grove of oaks at the corner of some unknown farmer’s field. The yellow glow of lights in the windows of the distant buildings called, inviting me to their warmth and comfort. My old life had made me soft and spoiled. What would my new life have in store? Certainly not breakfast in bed or hours of reading in the library.
“Do you see that one larger structure with its back to us?” Gideon pointed. I strained to see, but, from this distance, he could have been indicating any of the buildings.
“The one that’s sort of in the middle? With the stable in the back?”
“Yes, that one. It’s the inn. Wait here, and after I’ve gotten a room, I’ll come back and get you.”
“What about the horses? Won’t they think it strange that you have two, or am I supposed to leave Nonnie tied to this tree all night?”
“Hmm, good point,” he said. “I’ll take her with me and think of an explanation on the way.”
I nodded, slipped down from Gespenst’s back, and pulled my cloak tighter around me to ward off the cool evening air. The rain had eased, but it would still drench Gideon by the time he rode all the way into the village. Nonnie grunted, indicating her displeasure with our circumstances. Before they left, I gave her a reassuring pat. Gideon and Gespenst started for town at a brisk walk, with Nonnie tromping behind them. I ducked further into the trees, leaned against one of the massive oaks, and waited for Gideon’s return.
Hours seemed to pass, and still he did not return. As my concern for him grew, my imagination created ever more vivid and morbid reasons for his delay. Worries crowded my mind, and I failed, at first, to hear the horse hooves squelching in the muddy road or the voices of their riders. The group was nearly upon me before I noticed them, but the darkness and rain camouflaged my solitary figure, hiding among the tree grove. The party passed close enough for me to make out some of their words over the jangling harnesses, splashing puddles, and rain pattering on their oiled coats and broad brimmed hats.
“...probably tucked up cozy in the bed this very moment,” said one deep voice.
A raspy-throated speaker replied. “Won’t she be surprised if she is? Hope our luck turns after trudging through all this rain.”
“I’m ready for a break from this dreariness myself. The innkeeper brews a stout pint, if I remember correctly.” I knew this third voice well, and the sound of it sent tremors rolling up my spine. It belonged to the captain of my father’s Crown of Men—his private guard of elite fighters. His name was Terrill, and besides being highly skilled, I had overheard my father scolding him for his tendency to use unnecessary brutality during training.
“I hope you’re right,” said the first, deep voice. “A pint and a hot meal would warm my spirit, but not nearly as much as finding the girl. She’s a tasty little bit. I bet she would go a long way toward warming us all.” He chuckled and the others joined in. Their words chilled me more than the afternoon of wind and rain.
As they made their way toward the village, I prayed Gideon would avoid them. I recognized none of Terrill’s companions, but that meant nothing. While I had known only a handful of people from my village, every villager knew me. How could I assume these men meant any other girl but me? I sank further into the trees away from the road and huddled at the base of one of the larger oaks.
Until then, I had kept many of my fears allayed by placing them in my protector’s capable hands, but out there, alone, cold and wet, I submitted to my terror. Fear swelled in my throat and clamped around my chest like a vice. Each gulp of air came with a fight, and tremors shivered in my muscles.
No one had ever harmed me before, nor even implied it. Father’s disappointed glare and a few harsh words worked far better as a disciplinary tactic than corporal punishment, and I remembered receiving only one thrashing at his hands after I had nearly set a hay barn on fire while playing with a stolen flint. Even at a tender age I sensed Father kept himself from truly hurting me. The coldness in these men’s voices indicated they intended no such mercy.
Overwhelmed by panic, I forgot about Gideon, so when a hard hand grabbed my shoulder, my thoughts shifted first to my pursuers and then to evasion and escape. I screamed and scrambled away. A strong arm cinched around my waist, and a fraction of another scream escaped my throat before a hand covered my mouth. I struggled, kicking and scratching.
“Evie, what’s wrong? Stop fighting me.” Gideon cursed when my heel connected with his shin.
Realizing the arms crushing against me belonged not to my enemy but to my protector, my fight drained away, and I went limp against him.
“What brought this on?” he asked. “What happened?”
Through a throat choked with embarrassing tears, I told him about the men and their terrible words. He relaxed his grip as I explained, but he did not let me go.
“You didn’t see them?”
“I came around off the path so I could figure out the best way to bring you back in without being seen. This changes things…. You said Terrill was with them?”
I sniffed and wiped my nose on the cuff of my cloak. “Yes.”
“Damn.” He turned toward the village. “That dry bed tonight was looking mighty welcome. I’ll have to take you around town and drop you on the other side. I’ve already boarded Nonnie, but I’ll ride back to get her. We’ll move on for another mile or two and then make camp as best we can.”
I let him lead me to Gespenst. He swung up into the saddle first and then held out a hand. I accepted his help and climbed up behind him—the position allowed for faster travel, now that I no longer needed him to shelter me from the rain. Without thought of propriety or personal space, I circled my arms around him and rested my forehead against his broad back, drinking in his warmth. Why is he jeopardizing himself for me like this? He said he had made a promise, but what’s holding him to it?
Instead of asking him those things, I posed a less provocative question. “Gideon?”
“Hmm?”
“How old are you?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know anything about you, and yet you’re risking so much for me.”
We rode in silence to the other side of Brighton in silence. I figured he had decided not to answer, so I let him alone, but when he put me down next to a crop of large boulders, he paused for a moment. “I’m twenty.” He jabbed a heel into Gespenst’s flank and they cantered away before I could respond.
Twenty? He was no more than three years older than me, but it seemed like ten. How had he managed to find his way onto my father’s estate, into the position of horse master, at such a young age? I was still contemplating the many mysteries of Gideon when the rumble of horse hooves brought me back to the present. Peeking out from my position behind on
e of the larger boulders, I saw Gideon on Gespenst, bringing Nonnie fast behind. “Evie, they’re on our tail. Ride fast and try to stay close.”
He released Nonnie’s reins. I stepped out and threw my hands up, slowing her long enough to jam my foot into her stirrup. She skidded in the mud as she made the sudden stop. As quickly as I could take to the saddle, we dashed away again, but Nonnie couldn’t keep up with Gespenst, who was bred for speed and stamina. Gideon reined him back so as not to lose us in the darkness.
“We need to get off the road,” he called over his shoulder. “They can’t track us in this storm.” He slowed and turned off the path into a thicket of tall shrubbery.
I tried my best to follow him, although he was only a shadow. Gespenst’s rump loomed in front of me and Nonnie reared, announcing her displeasure with a shrill whinny. I clutched her reins and locked my legs tighter around Nonnie’s sides, desperate to keep her from throwing me. Nonnie dropped back on all fours with a sudden plop, and I opened my eyes, not realizing I had squeezed them shut.
“Keep her quiet,” Gideon hissed. “We’ve got to pick our way over the terrain and I can barely see. There’s little chance they can follow us as long as we keep quiet and don’t give ourselves away.” He slipped to the ground and motioned for me to follow.
I slid off Nonnie’s back and stepped behind Gideon as he led his horse over a rough landscape that was difficult to discern in the darkness. We were close enough to the road to hear our pursuers shouting at each other, though their words were indistinguishable.
“What happened?” I whispered.
“Terrill spotted your horse at the stables. I got a head start with her while he waited for the others.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Keep moving.”
We picked our way over the rocks and scruffy landscape for what felt like hours before Gideon gave word for us to stop. The rain had relaxed to a cold mist, and I wondered about the possibilities of starting a fire, but trusted him to make that decision for us. He unrolled his damp blanket on the ground and crouched beside it. “We’ll try to rest and, most importantly, let the horses rest, but we’ll get a move on at first light.”
Heir of Thunder (Stormbourne Chronicles Book 1) Page 3
