The split the stew and the drink before digging into their own supplies. Though the Lurran’s had been generous, they were running low. If the journey to Dothan took more than two or three days, they would be forced to hunt again.
During their travels Erin had taken her hunting a number of occasions, though she never managed to bring anything down herself. She could shoot well if the target kept still. Bethany wanted to laugh at herself, but clamped her lips shut. She didn’t want to explain to Erin why she was laughing. He would think it was silly.
While she was nibbling on the last of her rations, Erin took their swords and bound them up in a bedroll. They could manage without the extra blanket. It was more important to hide the contraband.
“Can’t believe they’ve outlawed swords,” grumbled Erin.
“I wonder if they can still have bows.”
“Hope so. Farmers need weapons to defend their flocks. Sling shots only get you so far. Besides, what happens to those living near the border? What if Wolfric attacks? What if bandits attack? What about the small villages that don’t have garrisons of soldiers to defend them?”
“I know, Erin, I know. It’s wrong. And I’ll tell him it’s wrong the minute I see him.”
“I’d love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.”
“You’ll be there. You can help me tell him to take his head out of his ass,” she growled.
For some reason Erin didn’t smile. Instead he turned away, suddenly very preoccupied with checking the girth on both saddles. Bethany wanted to ask him what she had said to upset him, but decided to bite her tongue. Most likely he was just mad about her brother’s idiocy, and she really didn’t feel up to listening to his rant.
Bethany nestled down into the straw, content to watch Erin work.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Bethany and Erin stared down at the vast city of Dothan. She would recognize it even if she were blind; even the smells and sounds were familiar to her. Bethany felt butterflies begin to flit around her stomach. This was the moment she had been dreaming about, and dreading, for a year.
Erin dropped the reins to Éimhin and rounded the horses head so that he stood beside her. She forced a smile to her face as she glanced at him.
Before she knew what was happening, Erin wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her toward him, his lips quickly finding hers. His free hand reached up and tangled in her hair. Bethany was too stunned to reciprocate until he was beginning to release her.
“You don’t need me anym…”
Bethany blinked furiously, confused by what was happening. She knew Erin was still talking to her, and that she needed to pay attention, but she couldn’t think beyond the feel of his hand still cupped around the back of her neck.
The lost princess felt her heart flutter wildly as Erin lowered his hand to her shoulder. She could have almost cried out at the loss of his touch. It wasn’t the same. Her tunic masked the feel of his warm, calloused hands.
“…Therefore I think you need to go in alone…”
What was he talking about?
He had kissed her. Those dreams, once viewed as nightmares, had come to pass. She leaned into him a little, enjoying the heat of his body, despite the warm spring sun.
“…I will always care fo…”
Bethany raised her hands to rest on his strong shoulders, still unaware of what he was talking about. It didn’t matter. For the first time in a very long time, she knew exactly how she felt, and the feeling didn’t frighten her. With Erin by her side, she would never need to be frightened again.
“…I could never be part of your world. Do you understand?”
Bethany nodded absently, more in an effort to tilt her head up towards his lips. For some reason her response brought a frown to Erin’s face. She wanted to reach up and smooth the lines of his expression into something calmer, something that showed the joy in her own heart, but before she could he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.
This time Bethany responded. Her hands reached for his neck, and she pulled herself up onto her tiptoes to better reach his lips. Erin bent over her, his movement feeling almost violent with barely-controlled passion. Bethany liked the way his jerky aggression brought a tingle to her stomach, just above her navel, as though her stomach was dancing.
One of her hands released his neck and slid down his chest until she could wrap her arm around his waist. Despite her efforts, he still felt miles away. Bethany pressed herself against his chest with all her might, her finger nails digging into his muscular back.
With a suddenness that nearly caused her to fall to the ground, Erin released her and took a step back. Before she could think of something to say, he caressed her cheek, turned away, and mounted his horse.
“Go be with your mother, little princess,” he said with a sad smile before turning Éimhin around and charging toward the nearby tree line.
“ERIN!” she screamed as realization dawned, half his speech coming back to her. “Come back!”
But it was too late. He was already yards away. Given the opportunity, Éimhin was a very fast horse. Her volume startled Galindo. She lunged for his lead and wrestled him back into submission, giving Erin more time to put distance between them.
Why would he leave? her mind screamed.
“Come back,” she repeated, not nearly as loud.
She couldn’t do this alone. This entire time she had expected to face her family with her friend by her side. Bethany turned back to look at the sprawling city, half her mind telling her to mount her horse and go after Erin. She turned in the other direction. Éimhin was already lost in the trees. Even if she left now, she probably would never find him. She couldn’t track as well he could evade.
Tears sprang to her eyes. Her heart began to ache as she realized just how alone she was. In many ways it felt worse than the loneliness of slavery. Now she had experienced love and longing, only to have the object of her love abandon her.
Fiery passion grew inside her chest. He had left her! She was alone because of him. For whatever nonsensical reason, he had abandoned her. She wouldn’t think of him again. She would crush her feelings for him until they were nothing but a distant memory.
Bethany looked back down upon her home.
I can do this! she told herself. But how do I get close enough to the family for them to recognize me?
An idea came to her, but she wasn’t sure it would work. She pulled her sword out from its hiding place and strapped it to her hip before slinging the quiver and bow across her back, just to be sure. Bethany climbed back into her saddle and kicked Galindo into a swift walk. They made it down the hill and onto the main highway between Dothan and Carthind. She could see another pair of travelers nearly a quart of a mile ahead of her. She pulled Galindo into a slower pace, much to the animal’s disgust. Galindo sputtered and sidestepped a little in his agitation. He was picking up her nervousness.
Half an hour later she reached the main gatehouse of the enormous city. Guards paced along the tall walls and along the road near the entrance. As she approached, she spotted more archers on the towers. Gilead had increased security measures since her father’s death.
“You there,” called a voice from her side.
Bethany smiled as she pulled Galindo to a stop and turned to look at the guard. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted other guards lowering their pikes toward her and creating a semicircle to block her entrance into the city.
“You can’t have those weapons!”
“Oh? Is this a new law?” she asked, straining to keep her voice polite.
“Ummm. New ‘nough,” said the spokesman. “I’ll have to confiscate them.”
“I will hand them over peacefully, if you bring me Captain Brom.”
“Brom?”
“The captain of the royal family’s guards.”
“Yes, I know who Brom is. What you want with him?”
Bethany smiled. “I’m his relative,” she lied.
�
�Well, okay, but you hand over those weapons now.”
The princess untied her belt and slowly lowered it to the guard before unslinging the bow and quiver from her back. When those were in the guard’s hands, she pulled the Lurran dagger from her boot and a special sheath rigged to hide under her tunic, running down her spine. The array of guards stared at her for a second, as though they thought she might produce yet another weapon. Finally, the spokesman handed the weapons off and took the reins of her horse. Bethany allowed her horse to be led into the large gatehouse, where she dismounted.
“You there. Go find Brom!”
“We really gonna do what she says?”
Bethany stared at the second soldier with a look she’d learned from her father. It said “how dare you” and “please obey” all at the same time. The soldier blinked at her and squirmed a little under her stare before running into the city.
“Would you like a seat, miss,” said the first guard, suddenly becoming deferential.
Bethany wasn’t sure of the reasoning behind his sudden change in manner, but she wasn’t about to complain. She nodded her agreement and the man ran into the little guard’s room to get her a stool. He placed it against the wall and ushered her to it. Bethany sat down and watched travels pass into the city.
It took them nearly an hour to track down Brom and convince him to come. She suspected the captain came more out of curiosity than anything else. No doubt the guards had told him that she had appeared heavily armed. Brom would know right away that she was no family member of his. If Bethany remembered correctly, Brom had no relatives. Still, curiosity would get him here.
“This her?” asked Brom as he entered the gatehouse.
Bethany rose to her feet and stood in the haughty posture she used to use with everyone, hoping it would make her more recognizable. The captain of the guard stared at her for a second.
“May I help you, miss?” he asked politely.
“Am I so changed, Brom,” she asked, feeling tears press against her eyes. Would her family look at her the same way?
The captain looked at her a little more closely before his brows pulled together in a frown. He shook his head, as if to dispel the thought creeping into his mind.
“I’ve been gone a long time, but not that long.”
“It can’t be.”
“It can.” Bethany paused. “You know who I am?”
“P-princess Bethany?”
She smiled and nodded. “Alive and well. Well, a little worse for wear, but alive nonetheless.”
Brom stumbled to the seat, where he collapsed, running his hands through his thick, wavy brown hair. “It can’t be!”
Bethany looked at the guard who was staring at them with wide eyes. “Will you excuse us?” she asked.
The man nodded and began to scurry away.
“Don’t say a word,” ordered Brom to the man’s back.
The guard nodded before returning to his post.
Brom looked back at her. “What happened? We all thought you’d died… m-my lady.”
“Oh, none of that,” she sighed, leaning against the stone wall next to the captain. “I ran into the woods to hide. Ended up getting picked up by slavers. It’s been a long, long year. Would you take me to my family now?”
“Why didn’t you go straight to them?”
Bethany chewed on her bottom lip for a second. “I saw Gilead in Carthind. Tried to get near him. The guards nearly skewered me. I figured it would be better to start a little lower, but with someone who had authority and knew me well enough to recognize me, despite all this.” She motioned toward her stained garments.
“I guess we better get moving. I’ll get a guard arranged.”
“No need, Brom. No one’s going to recognize me enough to do me harm. Let’s keep this quiet until I’ve seen my family.”
Brom hesitated a moment before nodding.
“Before we go, I’d like my weapons back.”
“It’s illegal.”
“I’ll be with you. Besides, I think I’m not who Gilead was referring to. Please retrieve my weapons,” she added with a little extra force.
The captain obeyed, gathering the weapons in record time. Bethany replaced her myriad of weapons and mounted her horse with practiced ease. She looked down to see Brom staring at her with wide eyes.
“I guess I’ve changed a little since I left,” she said with a little smile.
“I guess so.”
Brom mounted his own horse and led her away from the guardhouse. It took them nearly an hour to weave through the crowded city up to the tallest peak where the royal castle sat. Bethany grew increasingly nervous as they approached the enormous stone building. Finally, they reached the gatehouse of the inner walls and crossed into the courtyard of her family home.
“Hey. Wait a sec,” called one of the guards before he noticed his captain.
“She’s with me,” informed Brom. The guard nodded and scurried away, afraid of his superior’s angry glare.
They dismounted, handing their reins over to a stable boy, before marching up the large stairs of the keep. They crossed the antechamber and waited for the guards to open the large double doors of great hall. Bethany held her breath as she stared at the scene before her. The great hall was full to bursting with all the nation’s nobility.
“Boy, do I feel underdressed,” she murmured to Brom. “What’s going on?”
He turned his head to whisper. “A memorial for the one year anniversary of your death.”
“I’m touched. A little unnerved, but touched.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the captain smile. Slowly, the crowds noticed them and began to shift out of their way. As they proceeded down the long room, the flow of the throng sped up. When they were halfway down the length of the room, the last of the assembly parted, revealing the dais where her family sat.
The great dais of Dothan was multi-tiered. At the top sat Gilead and an empty seat left for his future queen. On the next level sat her mother, Queen Mother Debowrah, and her other brother, Obadyah. On the lowest level sat her sister, Mara and her large family, the children sitting on plush cushions on the floor.
Brom led them up to the edge of the dais and bowed low; Bethany remained a step behind him.
“What’s this Brom? You find another vagabond toting weapons?” asked the king with a smile.
“Umm… no, my lord. Perhaps you would be willing to speak in private?”
Bethany’s eyes ran to her mother. Pressure formed behind her eyes, but she refused to cry. There was a lot to discuss before she could feel safe. First of all, they had to believe it was really her. The queen mother was staring at her, confusion beginning to show in her features.
“I see no need for that. Who is this gypsy you’ve brought before us? And at such a time as this?”
“Uh.” Brom looked at Bethany, unease apparent on his features.
“I’ll speak for myself, Brom,” she said stepping forward.
“On first name basis?” asked the king with a laugh.
He’s been drinking, Bethany realized as she stepped forward and gave the barest hint of a bow. She would have to tread carefully.
“My lord,” she began. “What I have to say, you may wish to hear in private.”
“I said no. Now speak your piece woman or leave my castle. I only permit you here at all because Brom seems to vouch for you.”
Bethany took a deep breath. “You are here to celebrate the life of someone who is not dead,” she stated as her eyes flickered to where her mother sat.
There was a long moment of silence before anyone spoke.
“Bethany?” whispered the queen.
Suddenly the whole room broke out into soft murmurs of surprise, the story of the queen’s word quickly working its way to those in the back. The king waved for their silence and the crowd obeyed.
“You dare pretend to be our most beloved sister?” shrieked the king.
Again their audience spoke their opi
nions to their neighbors before the king motioned again for silence.
“When I was a child, I smashed my rocking horse to bits, and father would not let me see my new pony for many months.”
Her family stared at her, their eyes growing as they took in her words. The youngest of her nieces and nephews were looking around, wondering what all the fuss was about.
“How did you learn that?”
“When you were fifteen, I caught you…”
“Silence,” snapped the king.
“Gilead,” said their mother as she rose to her feet, her brows still pulled down in confusion as she stared at the stranger before her.
Bethany understood their confusion. The princess they knew would never have been caught dead in trousers, much less ones she had worn for four months. Now she stood before them wearing leather trousers with a hole in the left knee, mud-caked leather boots, a half-shredded tunic covered by a snug leather vest. From their vantage point they could see a sword hanging from her hip, and a bow and quiver from her back. Her once beautiful hair had last been re-plaited two weeks ago, and it showed. Her last full bath had been two months ago. Dirt covered her features in smudges where she had failed to clean herself with the last of her water. She looked nothing like the woman they had known. She was skinny and scarred.
The princess turned her gaze on her mother. “When I was seven, I wanted to jump out of a third story window to see if I could fly like the birds. You told me princesses don’t fly like birds, but dance like swans upon a lake.”
Debowrah’s eyes overflowed with tears as she stared down at her daughter. A second later the queen mother rushed down the steps to embrace her. Bethany froze as her mother wrapped her arms around her and cried into her dirty shoulder.
More slowly, Gilead stepped down to her level and looked into her stormy gray eyes. “Is it really you?” he asked.
Bethany nodded, unable to say more. Once again the crowd was whispering among themselves. Debowrah released her daughter and, without the king’s permission, dragged her up to the top of the dais, where she raised her arm for silence.
“The princess lives!” announced Debowrah. “Princess Bethany Kavadh is home!”
The Dothan Chronicles: The Complete Trilogy Page 59
