Chapter 22
As much as Luitgard wanted to press on the next day, Justin got his way. Somehow, one of the horses had slipped a shoe. While it was generally a simple fix, the blacksmith insisted he could not even look at the matter until he had finished the work several crusaders had paid him to do.
Luitgard had tried to complain. She had offered more money. She had even threatened him. All her efforts to get the man to better accommodate them were for naught. He did not care about her complaints as he was the only blacksmith in that town. He also made clear that the Crusaders of which he had spoken would pay equally well and would be more likely to follow through on much more sinister threats. What did it matter to him if two strangers were inconvenienced for a while?
Even more irritatingly, he had the attitude that he would get to the issue when he got to it and no amount of pleading would convince him to commit to any timeline.
Luitgard was nearly ready to throttle anyone who looked at her, even Justin, by the time they got back to the inn. She was already soaked through from the heat. The humidity also seemed to make the air too thick to breathe properly.
She climbed the stairs to the room while Justin paid the inn keeper for another night. By the time Justin came in, she had already settled on the bed and was on her back with her eyes closed.
"I brought you some wine," he said.
She cracked open her eye to see him holding out a clay pitcher.
"You need liquids," he said. "You will only feel worse in this heat if you don't."
"Why do these people never have any water?" she asked as she struggled to sit up.
Justin chuckled. "You would cringe more at the water in these places than you would at the wine if you could see it. It is wretched stuff."
She took the offering and drank deeply from it. She was still not accustomed to the taste. She doubted she ever would be but the sweat on her skin made it more enticing than usual. She was able to tolerate it enough to drink half the contents before passing it back to Justin who also took a long drink.
"We could be here for days," she complained. "I bet that crook will pretend he is busy just to get us to offer him more money."
"And you would have paid every last coin," Justin chided. "He saw that clear enough. If that was all it was, he would be doing the work this very moment and we would be paying him handsomely for it."
She flopped onto her back. "Open the window in here," she said. "At least we could get a breeze."
He shook his head. "Not yet. The sun would come right in and heat us up even worse."
"And what are we supposed to do while we are here aside from melt to death?"
He shrugged as he set the pitcher on the floor under the window and out of the way of being knocked over by careless feet.
"We could explore the town later in the day when it cools," he suggested.
"I think I got my fill of mingling with locals in Vienna," she said with a scowl. "We have not been rid of the consequences since."
"Well, you could always take my advice and rest," he said. "That way we will definitely be able to get to Rome once the horses are fit. We will be in Rome within a fortnight even despite this little setback."
She grumbled inwardly but did not answer. The heat was making it very difficult to be mature about him getting his way. She closed her eyes again. Had she had the energy, she would have continued arguing but as her body relaxed, she decided the matter was not so serious after all.
The black waters were cold around her knees. She was unsure why she would have waded in fully clothed yet she was still walking forward. With each step, the black fluid rose higher. She wanted to stop. She wanted to turn around and climb out. Her feet did not heed her fears. One stepped in front of the other.
The dripping started again. Drip. It echoed in her ears. Drip. Her chest was submerged. Drip. The water was up to her chin. Drip. Her ears. Drip.
It consumed her. But she was not spared. Even being murdered by the waters did not give her relief. As she gasped for air, the dripping became louder and Dragonfather's pleas returned to haunt her.
"Please, Luitgard," he begged. "I cannot do this anymore."
Drip. Drip. DRIP.
She was choking, trying to swallow around the water as if that would bring her air. It brought only more fluid into her lungs. There was a high-pitched crack, like that of the first utterance of a thunderbolt. Dragonfather whimpered and sobbed.
Drip, drip, drip, drip.
"Please."
She tried to cough and gasp. There was no use. In desperation, she clawed at the water around her and tried to scream.
She jolted in the bed and her eyes flew open. The relief of being alive lasted only a moment before the torment of her inability to save Dragonfather returned. She cursed and slammed her fists into the blanket. She slammed them down again. As she forced them into the blanket as hard as she could a third time, she growled her frustration.
She thought of the years after Dragonfather had disappeared. There had been no one to tell her wonderful stories about dragons. No one to speak of their feats with such passion that you would have thought he knew what it was to be one, as if he had flown the skies. No one to teach her the ways of the world with such beaming pride. She had cried herself to sleep thinking of those blue eyes of his. She had begged the Goddess to return her best friend to her. Her prayers had not been answered then. She had given up on them, the flights of fancy of a foolish child.
She had focused upon her duties because there was nothing else she could do. Chores had been her only distraction and her only comfort. Now she knew he was alive and she knew where to find him. Finally there was something she could do. She had to find him as fast as possible and she had to put her own blade into Merek's heart.
Courted Sanctuary Page 22
