Chapter Twenty-seven

Damion, on the other hand didn’t sleep at all. The word again echoed the waters of his mind incessantly, drowning his peace. He’d gone back to his room long enough to grab his things and made his way out to the gardens and sat silently under the moon.

He felt awful leaving her the way he did. But if he’d stayed, he would have done something he would have regretted far worse. It was better this way. The pit of his stomach ached half the night, making preparation hard. When it finally ebbed, he piled their things in the stables. It wasn’t hard finding a smaller soldier, Tatron to be exact, to lend him a shirt. That’s when it got hard. He had to go to her room. He had her shirt, and he needed her things. When he tried, thinking it had been long enough, she had been awake still, crying. His hand hovered over the doorknob. He wanted desperately to comfort her. But that word echoed through his mind. AGAIN. He hadn’t been part of that the first time. He knew things she didn’t, and it was killing him. He wanted to talk to her, to explain. Though he couldn’t. He knew telling her would be the end to anything they had. It had to be. There was too much at stake. But he wanted to. He wanted to burst in there, pull her into his arms, and tell her he was sorry and stop the tears that seemed to never end. His guilt warded him away though. He tried again just before first light. This time, the room was silent.

They were leaving hours after schedule, but when the time came that he could wait no longer, he was almost grateful. It was still dark when he sent to have Trishia wake her. While he waited for them to come down, he got the horses ready. The heaviest pack they had was the tent and bedding in case they needed to make camp for the night, which they would. They’d be lucky if they made it to his safety point now. They went on Volencia and Trishia’s horses, since they weighed substantially less than Damion did. By the time they met him at the front of the castle, the only thing left to put on the horses was Trishia’s bag and them.

“Hope you both slept well? It’s going to be a long ride.” He greeted them; glad it was dark. As soon as the words left his mouth he winced. He was too aware of how well the Princess had slept. The only thing darker than the circles under her eyes were his own.

“You look bright eyed and bushy tailed. It would seem you slept just fine?” Trishia countered, slinging her own bag over the saddle horn as Damion promptly removed it to secure it properly. He knew full well Trishia was as close to a friend as Volencia had and wondered how much of the night before she knew.

Volencia stood by her mare, Morning Star, silently. He helped Trishia up without another word, he wouldn’t be bated. He was cranky enough with everything as it was. They still had a long way to go, starting off tired would be hard enough, he didn’t want to add a fight to the mix. He adjusted her stirrups and reigns to fit before going to Volencia.

“Princess, I’m sorry…”

“Don’t.” Volencia didn’t snap, in fact her voice was barely a whisper. “Trishia may think you look right as rain, but I know you slept less than I did. If at all.” Her hand caressed the mare’s neck, “I don’t want your apologies for anything. You’ve been perfectly clear all along. I don’t blame you. I just want us to be right.” When her eyes met his, he nearly melted. He’d expected tears but found fire and desperation instead.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her ever so briefly. “We will always be right.” He felt, rather than heard, her sniffle against his chest before she pulled away. Unlike Trishia, who wore a ridding habit, Volencia had on britches, Toran’s tunic, and a cloak. Anyone who came upon them would assume Trishia the lady and Volencia a maid or hired hand. Not that he wanted to see anyone on the road once they left the city.

Damion would have helped her up, but she didn’t need it. From standing, she tucked her boot in the stirrup and with barely an effort was on Morning Star’s back. A well-rehearsed rider she was, though he’d not seen her on one since he got here. She pulled her cloak high over her head before giving him a pain smile. Going to his own stallion, whom she’d named Dark Night, he pulled himself up. Leading them though the darkened city.

It was barely light, the sun just rising, as they made it to the forest. The city, as expected, was quiet. Thambair was used to being on a lock down, getting used to their newfound freedom was as difficult as it was for him trying to figure out how to live around a woman of his kind. Euphoric and Dystopic at the same time. He pulled Dark Night up short, “We’ll rest here until daybreak. Any water or food needs yet?”

“I need to relieve myself.” Tricia bounced on the horse until Damion finally made it to her.

“Okay.” He reached up, “but don’t go more than a few trees in. Stay in the light. The forest can be dangerous, so keep an eye out.” He placed her on the ground. “The two of you should go together though. Be careful.” Turning to Volencia, he started to go toward her. What a sight. The sunrise shinning behind her. Cloak tossed behind her shoulders and britches hugging her legs. The hood had fallen back, but not completely. Just the top of her hair showed. One stray curl loose, hanging at the side of her nose.

Just as easily, her foot slipped from the stirrup and she pushed off. Landing perfectly beside Morning Star. “I’ll go with her. You should stay though.” As she walked by him, her fingers grazed his shoulder. Her hand pressed Star’s reigns into his palm. “Don’t let her wander too much if we’re riding, please? And water would be great.”

Nodding, Damion watched her slip away beyond the trees. Letting the horses loose he went for the water, keeping an ear open. He couldn’t hear Volencia or Trishia. A few minutes passed before he became nervous. “Volencia? Trishia? Everything okay?” He called out. When there was no answer, his magic tingled though his veins. Searching them out. There was rustling in the brush to his right and left. He went to each horse, pulling their reigns up and over their heads.

He heard a murmured curse and a deeper mutter off to his right and followed. Dipping into the darker part of the forest. “We shouldn’t have bothered with this one. She’s all piss and vinegar. Should have known. No lady wears pants like a man.”

Watching his footing, he avoided branches and leaves, roots, and limbs, twisting his way through the brush. His magic swallowed any sound he made otherwise. A cry went out. From a heron apparently. Though it wasn’t the right time of year, the call was perfect. He was closing in.

There were at least five of them. Regardless of anything, this would get worse before it got better. How much worse was the question?

“It’s only a guy. I don’t know why were avoiding a fight. We should’a just walked up and kilt the poor bastard.”

“’Cause, we don’t know if anymore be comin’. Any signs?”

“Nah. Won’t be neither. He went divin’ inta the dark. They don’ void it like they should.”

A low growl to Damion’s left told him he wasn’t the only one hunting right now.

“Tark’s got them horses. If’n anyone was comin’ ta help they’da been here by now.”

They seemed to have stopped, and he saw Volencia double over. She ran to the side of a tree and vomited. “He’s going to kill you, you know.” Volencia spit. “You won’t even know he’s coming.”

“Though’ I told’ya ta gag the bitch.” Another man growled.

Damion crouched, paying attention to the beast at his left. If he knew his creatures at all, this was a flier. Slim, about the same body build as him, with a large snout and ears that stood on end. Large wings like a bat with claws running their length. It would be eating someone before they saw it coming. It had been tracking Damion, but its attention turned to something up ahead. Something he guessed would be easier prey.

“She keeps spittin’ the thing out. I dunno how, but she doin’ it.”

Damion realized they were likely waiting for him to show now. They didn’t want to wait for him to surprise them. He stayed low and out of sight. He worried there were too many. He was good, but there were at least twelve brigands here. He couldn’t defeat them all and protect Volencia and Trishia at the same time. He would need to come up with a plan.

One of the other men yelled. “Stupid bitch!” A loud snap broke through the trees and Volencia staggered. “Bit me, she did.”

“Hit me again and I’m going to kill you.” She hissed.

“Don’t bate them, Pri…” Trishia had started, but covered her mouth, eyes going wide.

All the men laughed, not noting Trishia's mistake. “I think this one needs a lesson.” Damion felt his magic clawing at him as the man undid his belt, tossing his sword aside, he started for her. “Hendair, hold her for me. We’ll switch places after.” The other men cheered, “This one too? Or do we see if we can ransom her?”

“Even just the horses and provisioned they had made this worth it. Alls’ the better if we just do away with the troublesome rabble and leave them for the nightmares. Have your fun boys.” Damion’s fingers curled around his sword, he was out of time.