by Kya Lind
“The best place to be is where your enemies are sure you are not,” Reya whispered in his ear.
Traven would have smiled, but his gut was tight and his hair was standing up all over his head. As they dropped over the hilltop, Traven nudged Barn into a run. The road dropped gently down to the river once again. Traven swore in exasperation as he heard the gallan of Royals top the hill and start after them. At the bottom of the hill where the river met ground, Traven saw another gallan of soldiers moving toward them down the road in the direction they were headed. They were cornered between the two advancing gallans and the river.
The only place to go was out onto the frozen river. Traven kicked Barn and wrestled him forward. Barn sidestepped and bulked at Traven’s insistence. Traven kicked him again. Barn moved forward onto the snow and ice of the frozen river. Reya dug her nails into the skin of Traven’s stomach as they moved forward across the ice. The wind and the snow had caused the river surface to be a stiff course track. It didn’t seem to be slick beneath Barn’s hooves. Traven set Barn to a fast walk and the horse settled into a smooth gait across the ice. They were more than halfway across before the two gallans met and circled on the bank of the frozen river. Several soldiers started out across the ice. They were spread out trying to distribute their weight, and moved forward slowly. Traven turned Barn west when they reached the middle of the river. This part seemed to be frozen the hardest. He nudged Barn to maintain his pace. He felt Reya shiver as the wind whipped about them. Cliffs faced them in the opposite bank. The gallans on the shore moved down the road following them on the bank. Traven scanned the opposite bank looking for an opening. He felt like a cornered rat. Traven heard the ice crack under their weight. He shifted Barn closer to the cliff side. Maybe the ice was thicker in the shadow of the bluffs. The soldiers were making steady progress behind them. The ice groaned and cracked again. Traven watched as a crack spread from behind them across the ice for about six lengths. He slowed Barn to a walk. The groaning of the ice grew worse. Traven kicked him back into a canter. Another crack popped under their weight.
Traven spotted a break in the cliffs to the right. He turned Barn in that direction. The wind whipped around them. The ice moaned ominously. Traven’s heart raced, and panic in his stomach clawed at his insides. He tightened his hold on the reins and instructed Reya to hold on as tightly as possible.
Suddenly, the river behind them groaned under the weight of the approaching soldiers. The ice, already cracked under the duress of Barn’s weight, now gave up in with the added weight of the other horses. Two of the horses crashed through the ice layer, struggling to right themselves. Traven felt the river shuddered and then the frozen ground shattered into hundreds of ice pieces. The cracking was so loud that it sounded like thunder as it rolled down the river toward them. Barn spooked, shot forward at an alarming speed. Traven struggled to maintain his seat as he braced for the impact. Barn dashed across the ice, his eyes wide with fear toward the gap in the cliff facing. Reya clung to Traven’s back in terror as the cracking ice caught up with them. The ground under the horse’s hooves bucked. The distance to shore was only six more lengths when the ice splintered and Barn fell. Barn struggled and stumbled to his feet in bridle deep water. He shook his head and stumbled to the shore, stomping a path through the remaining ice layer.
Traven hit his head on the ice as he flew off over Barn’s head. He saw stars, but forced his mind to stay focused. He hit the water with such force that what little breath he had was knocked out of him. Traven touched the bottom and kicked off. He stumbled to his feet, and stood up in chest deep water. Traven looked around. He caught Reya as she floundered in the icy water, and pulled her head above water. Reya gasped and clawed at his chest in terror. He dragged them both toward the bank. Giant ice chucks floated past them as Traven struggled to get them out of the water. The horses of their pursuers screamed in panic and tried to swim to the opposite side of the river. Traven pulled Reya to the bank and onto dry ground. He sucked in several breathes. Reya coughed and threw up. He hoped she had expelled any water she might have sucked into her lungs. She cried and threw up again. Traven forced himself to focus. They were going to freeze if they didn’t get somewhere warm. Traven pulled her up and they struggled to put her on the horse. Once they accomplished this, he took Barn’s reigns and led the shaking horse up the gap through the break in the cliffs to a passageway that led away from the river. On flat ground again, Traven mounted behind Reya and set Barn to a fast walk. “Hang in there, buddy, we just have to get away.” He patted the horse’s neck. Reya quaked in his arms. Her coat was soaked, starting to freeze, her lips were blue. Traven felt sluggish, he couldn’t turn his head. He leaned forward so as not to fall off the horse. His vision blurred. His last thought was that he needed to find a safe, warm place for Reya to be. And then he remembered nothing else.
Reya’s mind panicked. She had never been so cold. The frozen coat wrapped her in a thick layer of ice. She was shaking so hard, she couldn’t hold the reins. She felt Traven slump against her back drunkenly. Reya tried to brace herself against the saddle horn to hold his added weight, but her arms would not even support her own weight. Reya gasped and tried to see through the panic.
Suddenly, she realized that Barn was not walking. She looked up to see that Barn was standing in front of a cabin. Reya blinked in shock; a cabin, where had a cabin come from. It just appeared as if by magic. Traven roused himself again and sat up holding his own weight. Reya shakily swung her leg over Barn’s head and slid to the ground. Her legs did not catch her and she crumpled to the earth, before righting herself, and crawling up the two steps onto the porch and opening the door. Her only thought was to get them warm.
The big door swung open easily at her touch. She glimpsed a big bed and a stove, before turning and motioning Traven to come in. He sat on Barn unmoving except for the shaking of his arms. Then Reya looked at him for the first time since the river. Blood was running down the side of his face, and his stared with a blank empty gaze. She was surprised that he was still upright. Reya moved back down the steps and called his name, but he didn’t turn his head to look at her. She quickly realized that if he fell off the horse, she would be unable to get him into the cabin. Reya grabbed at the reins clumsily with her numb fingers and determinedly pulled Barn forward. The shaking horse refused to move for a second, but Reya insisted with all of her weight. Slowly the big horse stomped up the shallow steps and into the cabin itself. Reya moved behind the horse and slammed the door.
Traven moaned, a low sound of despair, and tried to slide slowly off the saddle. He was making no effort to catch himself; he got toppled slowly like a tree. Reya raced forward and moved to catch him, but his dead weight and her shaky condition landed them both in a heap on the cabin floor under Barn’s feet. Reya lay stunned and breathless, as she took in the situation. She was pinned under Traven’s unresponsive body. They were out of the wind, but she knew they were far from safe. She could see the bed from where they lie. That is where they needed to be, in that bed, her tired mind screamed. Reya shoved against Traven’s weight. He didn’t move and she couldn’t move him. She pushed against his shoulder again, slowly he moaned and rolled over. Reya scrambled up on unsteady hands and knees and contemplated her next move; thinking was becoming more and more difficult.
She realized that they couldn’t climb in the bed with their wet clothes on. With determined effort, Reya crawled to her captain and pulled his boots off, then his socks. The trousers rolled down with difficulty, but she managed to pull them away. His leather overcoat came away easier, but his chainmail and shirt were almost impossible. Reya cried and begged and demanded his help, but he remained limp. His eyes were open, but he would not respond. The blood on the side of his face slowed to a trickle and started to freeze. After a difficult battle, Reya had him naked, but could not get him from the floor to the bed. She hauled the heavy blanket off the bed, and wrapped it around his body. Fire, she thought they needed a fire. She pu
shed herself from the floor and on numb, frozen legs moved the short distance to the stove, pulling her coat off as she went. Reya did not stop to think about how they had been so lucky as to find the cabin, or where the owners were, or who was following them. She concentrated solely on the next task, get Captain Traven warm. She quickly, awkwardly started a fire. It took longer than usual. She hands were shaking too hard to hold the flint steady. Finally, the kindling caught, and Reya stuffed the stove full of wood from the neat stack in the corner.
Reya moved back to the Captain. His eyes were still open, but vacant. His lips were blue, and his face was pale. Reya collapsed next to him on the floor. She was so cold, but she had stopped shaking. She knew this was not a good sign. She needed to get warm. She tiredly pulled her wet clothes off and threw them in the pile under Barn. “Captain Traven, please,” she begged, “please.” She had just decided to curl up in the blanket on the floor with him, when he responded to her tugging on his arm. She pulled him forward and slowly they crawled their way into the bed. Reya yanked the blanket up over them with the last of her strength. They were so cold, she was afraid they were going to die, die from the excruciatingly, painful cold. Reya plastered herself against the captain trying to warm him up, seeking his warmth, but there was none, Just the cold and the pain. Slowly the shaking started again. Reya’s teeth clattered and her limbs quaked. Her chest felt so tight, breathing was difficult, as she lay next to her Captain and prayed for them both. Finally, after had seemed like hours the shaking in her limbs resided, and Reya still worried about her unresponsive captain tumbled into a deep, exhausted sleep.
Chapter 24
Traven woke slowly. He opened his eyes carefully. The pain in his head caused him to quickly close them again. He glanced around the room through his lowered lashes. He was in a room, a nice warm room. Barn was standing over him. His head jerked up in a panic, and then he groaned in pain. Where was he? Where was Lady Beth? No, he reminded himself, Princess Reya. He shifted his arm and recognized the feel of Reya’s form. What? He moved his head slowly. He was laying on a bed under a heavy blanket, and Princess Reya was snuggled up against him, and if he guessed right, they were both naked. Traven’s mind spun and the pain sliced through his brain. He moved his hand against the bare skin of Reya’s back. How had this happened? He didn’t remember any of this. Her skin was so hot, feverishly hot. He shifted his head, and tried to lift his arm, but he couldn’t. He sunk back into the blackness.
The next time he woke, he took in the situation again. He was in a cabin in a bed naked with Princess Reya wrapped up in a heavy quilt. He felt toasty warm, and then realized the reason was because Reya was burning up. Her skin, everywhere it came into contact with his, burned. Her breaths were short, raspy sounds. He sat up and struggled out of the bed. He wrapped the blanket around Reya again and sat on the edge of the bed holding his head. He thought about throwing up. He shivered in the ice cold room. It was night outside, and it was storming hard beyond the snug confines of the little cabin. The sound of the sleet drummed on the roof. Traven realized that all of their clothes were stomped under his feet in a heap on the floor: her coat, his chainmail, boots, all of it. Traven unstrapped the canteen from Barn’s saddle and opened it. The water inside was frozen. He shivered in the cold air, and pulled the waterproof saddlebags off Barn. He found some trousers, and socks, and a shirt. He pulled them on and crossed to the stove; his eyes registered that they were in someone’ home. There were blue material curtains on the small window, and plenty of dry firewood. Traven built a fire and went back to the bed. He pulled another shirt out of the bag, and turned to Reya. He slid the shirt over her head and inserted each arm in the sleeve without pulling the blanket off. He had not been exactly gentle or quiet while dressing her, but she had not woken up. He melted water and filled a cup. He crossed to the bed again.
“Reya, honey, wake up and drink this for me,” he said softly. “Reya,” he shook her gently. She fell back limply against the pillow. She was so hot, but she was shivering. Her teeth were chattering. Her shallow breath seemed to grate on the inside of her lungs.
Traven found a wash tub and melted snow for Barn. After the horse had drunk his full, Traven fed him and rubbed him down.
After trying to wake Reya one more time, Traven climbed back into the bed with her and pulled her close, he wiggled her shirt around to that it covered most everything. And closed his eyes, he didn’t want her to be embarrassed by their situation more than she needed to be when she woke up in the morning. He closed his eyes and slept again.
Late the next morning, Traven woke up again. He assumed it was still morning, the sky outside was dark and the sleet still drummed on the roof. Traven started the fire again and made breakfast.
Traven tried to wake her up again, but she was unresponsive. Her fever was still so high. Traven knew what kind of danger she was in, she had to wake up and drink something or she would get to the point where she would not wake up again. Traven pulled her into his arms and held her in the cool air of the cabin, but her fever did not break, and she did not wake up. Her shallow breaths rattled. Traven settled down in the bed under the blanket with her. He closed his eyes and followed her into sleep.
“Princess Reya,” a soft voice called, “Reya, you have to wake up.” She frowned at that voice. She didn’t want to wake up.
“Go away, I don’t feel good,” she mumbled into her pillow. She did not want to wake up. They could just carry on without her today. She was not up to Ambassador Luncheons, or visitor’s teas or whatever they thought her agenda was today.
“Reya,” insisted the voice a little more demanding, “you have to wake up, honey.”
She whimpered.
“I know but you have to try.”
Reya opened her eyes. Captain Traven leaned over her; he was sitting on the edge of the bed. She jerked into a sitting position clutching the blankets to her chest. She became aware of how hot it was in the room; she was sweating. “What are you doing in here?” she demanded.
“Shhh, it’s all right. You need to wake up and drink something.”
Reya pointed at the door. “You said you wouldn’t come through that door,” she demanded in accusation.
“I said if you answered it when I knocked, you didn’t answer.”
Reya nodded. She was so tired. She lay back down on the bed.
“Oh, no you don’t young lady; you have to wake up, now.”
“I don’t feel good,” she repeated pathetically.
“I know,” Traven said softly, holding his hands gently on each side of her head. “But, I need you to wake up, not just in here, but out there. I need you to wake up and drink something.”
“I don’t want to wake up out there,” Reya complained,” I want to stay in here, and go back to sleep.” She looked up at him. “Come back to bed,” she demanded.
Traven chuckled at her little girl expression while she demanded that he come back to bed. “I will come back to bed, just as soon as you wake up and drink something.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
With superhuman effort, Reya rolled off the bed and stalked toward the wall. . . a light flashed.
Traven woke up. He looked around. Reya moaned softly, and opened her fever bright eyes.
“Hi,” Traven grinned. Reya moaned and her eyes closed, “Oh, no, you don’t, honey. Wake up,” he struggled to get them both in a sitting position. He jostled her until her eyes opened again, and held the cup of water to her mouth. “Drink it all.”
Reya tipped her head back and frowned at him. He moved the cup to her mouth, and tipped it up. Reya drank about half a cup. She breathed out slowly, her chest rattling under her shirt, and her eyes slid closed. Traven held her for a minute, before rolling her over and snuggling her back under the blanket.
Deep in the dark of that night, when he had been unable to rouse her again, he went back through the door.
“Reya, honey, wake up.”
She cracked
open one eye. “Go away.”
“You have to wake up again and drink something.”
“You didn’t come back like you said you would.”
Traven frowned.
“You didn’t come back to bed.”
Traven looked around. She meant sleep with her here.
“You promised,” she mumbled in her pillow.
“Come on, honey, wake up and then I will come back.”
“You are pushy, and demanding,” she complained.
“I know, I know, come on.” He helped her up off the bed. . . and the light flashed.
Traven opened his eyes. Reya snuggled up closer to him. He struggled to sit up and propped her up. “Wake up, Reya. Drink this.”
Reya rolled her eyes, but kept them open. He held the broth cup up to her lips. She drank the warm liquid.
“I’m so hot,” she whispered, and kicked the blanket away. Traven tried to keep his eyes and his mind on the task at hand. He held the cup to her lips again. She drank the rest of the cup. She pushed it away tiredly, and closed her eyes. “You promised,” she sighed.
Traven settled them down in the bed, and wrapped her in his arms, her head against his good shoulder.
Traven stepped through the door, and walked to the bed. He looked around the room. The room was so hot and stuffy. He moved to the balcony door and opened it. He stepped out onto the balcony and looked down. He stared at the large covered courtyard below him. He had been here before. He stood above the inner courtyard of the royal palace at Gloryland. Traven turned and re-entered the bedroom. He watched Reya sleeping for a minute before he lifted up the sheet and slid into the big comfortable bed. She rolled toward him in her sleep. He gathered her in his arms and relaxed. She sighed softly, and he kissed the top of her head. She had said this was dangerous. It did not feel dangerous; it felt. . . like he was home. He slipped into a dream of swirling colors, voices, emotions, and the weaving of songs, and the growing of something incredible.
