Okay! I am finally less annoyed with Chapter Two, though still not fully satisfied with certain parts. I just don‘t know what to do about them. I‘m now at a stage with it where I can handle others seeing it.
The Prologue is here and Chapter One is here
Sunlight streamed through the window, much to Merian's annoyance. She did not want to wake. Waking meant pain. Muscles that had not been used in a very long time protested, insisting she be still. Why did it hurt?
Gradually the memories of her rescue returned, somehow difficult to separate from her nonsensical dreams.
Opening her eyes would help.
She lay on a rough straw tick—not the cold hard ground to which she had become accustomed—on a bed in an unfamiliar room.
No, not entirely unfamiliar. It was the same room she had dressed in earlier, only it looked different in the daylight.
The instant she realized whose bed it was, she bolted from it, soreness largely forgotten, as if it were a red-hot iron. Try as she might, she was unable to remember how she had come to be there. She would never have agreed to it. A shocking thing, sleeping in a strange man's bed—even if he was not there.
She set out in search of him, intending to give him a piece of her mind.
He was not in the next room, though that must have been where he had slept; a deerskin covered pallet for his bed.
Her clothes, now dry, were still draped ocer the back of the chair. There was no fire in the fireplace, though the air had a definite chill that was unusual for mid-May. The door was ajar. He must be outside. She decided she had better change before she ventured any further, but before she could, he entered. Now in the full light of day, she got her first generous look at him. He was younger than she had first thought, perhaps only a little older than herself, though his scant beard made guessing difficult. Dark hair that waved and curled at the ends was cut shorter than was common, the longest wave did not even reach his jaw. He stood nearly a full head taller and she had to look up to meet his eyes, which could have been green, or brown, or somewhere in the middle.
Whatever color they were, they seemed to be laughing at her. He kept an otherwise straight face as he dipped his head in a half bow.
"Good morning, Highness. Or rather, good afternoon. Have I passed your inspection?"
She realized she should be embarrassed, having been caught staring, but curiosity overcame her manners.
"Well," he shrugged, "almost." He held up a string of fish, still dripping.
"Breakfast for you, lunch for me." He grinned. "Hungry?"
She put a hand to her forehead. "What happened?"
"Last night? You fell asleep."
"Obviously. But I don't remember going in there," she pointed to the other room, "and surely I would have made sure the door was latched."
"Yes, I'm sure you would've." The corner of his mouth lifted as if he was trying very hard not to smile. "If you hadn't fallen asleep in here while I was talking to you."
"Oh." She was not sure what else to say.
"Now I wouldn't have said I was exceptionally witty, but I never thought I could put someone to sleep like that."
"I don't remember," she said.
"I knew you couldn't be too comfortable there, so I carried you into my room." He shook his head. "You must've been exhausted. You didn't even stir when I picked you up."
Heat rose to her face. Of course he would have had to carry her.
"Is there a problem?" His eyes glinted with amusement.
"How could there not be? It was horribly improper. There must have been another option."
"It isn't as if I was in there," he said. "Besides, is it truly any worse than wearing my old clothes?"
"I see you hadn't thought of that. I must confess, I don't see a problem with either. It's not like you had much choice in the matter. If you'd been awake, I would've insisted."
She tilted her chin up. "And I would have refused. Even the clothes, if I had thought about it like that."
"Uncomfortable, but I would have managed."
"Stubborn," he muttered under his breath.
She turned and gathered her clothes. "I do not see what it matters to you."
"Don't you? A fine thing it'd be for your royal highness to catch cold on my watch."
She huffed and turned to go.
"I hope you'll be more reasonable after lunch," he said.
When she returned, he was not there. She found a note on the table.
She sighed and followed. What else could she do?
Erandir hadn't even gotten past the house yet when he heard Merian's approach.
"That was fast," he said. "I'm sure the ink hadn't even dried."
"It had not," she replied.
He shifted his pack and kept walking.
"You could have tried harder to wake me up. I would have preferred to walk on my own."
Oh so that's what was bothering her.
"You apparently needed the rest," he said.
He turned back and continued walking. "Anyway, your reputation is perfectly safe. I won't tell a soul."
"Please tell me we are not going to climb any trees," she said.
He laughed. "No, not now."
The sound of rushing water met their ears. It brought a familiar sense of calm, and he hoped it would do the same for her. She did seem to need it.
He rounded the corner, knowing what he would see and yet as usual the sight made him stop in his tracks and stare anyway.
Sunlight sparkled on a waterfall which, though not terribly large, chattered noisily as it ran down a steep, craggy ridge. The stream split into many cascades that played across the ridge, crossing and re-crossing each other. They finally joined at the bottom to form a long pool bordered by reeds and rushes that swayed in the breeze.
He’d given this place the name Faerifell Falls as a boy, after the Fey Queene’s court in one of his favorite tales, but even years later the name still seemed to fit.
He turned to see the look on her face; wonder and delight in equal measure, just as he'd hoped. Her eyes sparkled like the water as she drank in the sight.
"Oh, this is lovely," she breathed.
He turned his gaze back to the pool. "The water is fresh and clear, the fishing is excellent, and there isn't a better picnic spot in the country. Follow me."
He led her to the water's edge and began the task of building a fire. He found himself unexpectedly distracted by watching her out of the corner of his eye. As if she needed watching over.
She peered into the pool and winced, then tried using her fingers to comb through her hair, which fell in a tangled mess across her shoulders. It didnt' seem to be working too well.
Once satisfied that she wasn’t going to fall in, he forced his attention back down to the fire. When he had it going, he cut several green sticks and laid them across the fire, resting each end on a small log. He laid the fish he’d
already cleaned fish on these to cook. They were nearly done before he noticed Merian was watching him, much more closely than he had been watching her.
"You are hiding from Faldur too. And not because of me."
He tensed. "What makes you say that?"
"You acted like you knew he would not look up when he walked right beneath the tree. As though you have hidden that way before."
"Hunters rarely look up when they think their quarry will be on the ground. I expect Faldur's no different."
"You have a house hidden in this wonderfully secluded valley, and you obviously have no fear of him finding it or you would not be so at ease right now."
He glanced at her warily. "That doesn't prove anything."
"And you yourself said that you know Faldur "too well."
She looked at him expectantly.
For everything she said, he could come up with a plausible explanation, but there didn't seem to be much point in hiding it.
He sighed. "Fine, yes. But you needn't worry about it. You're safe with me."
"You said he is a bounty hunter. Is there a reward for you?"
"They wouldn't let you claim it if there was," he said with a grin.
Her eyes widened. "I would never—" she didn't finish.
"I'm not an outlaw, if that's what you're asking. I suppose you could say he has a sort of…grudge against me."
She raised an eyebrow."A grudge?"
"All right, he wants me dead. Happy now?"
He hesitated a moment before answering. "It has to do with the things I told you last night. Faldur played his part in all that. I got in the way."
Tried. Didn't half succeed, and the war began in spite of his efforts.
"Like I said, you don't have to worry. I've years of experience staying out of his way."
He busied himself with the fire, making sure the fish didn't burn, and hoped that was the end of it.
She didn't question him about it further, but he doubted she was finished.
He tested the fish. "Done."
He pulled two turtle shells, his favorite dishes, out of his pack and placed the fish in them. A bit of salt, almost the very last of his supply, and they were ready.
She must have been famished, but she didn't act like it. She took dainty bites, and ate as carefully as if she were a guest at a proper banquet. At this rate, they'd be here a while.
"You don't have anyone to impress here, Highness. You must be hungrier than that."
She ignored him and continued as she was.
"I suppose you must think me lacking in manners," he said, deliberately talking around a mouthful of food.
"If you must know, I had not noticed. Until now."
He grinned. "That's why I did it."
She shot him an exasperated look.
"But I won't do it again," he added hastily. "Promise."
"Oh, really," she said. "In that case your manners are a credit to you."
"Sarcasm does not become you, Highness."
It took a moment, but she softened. "You may call me Merian, if you wish."
The sudden reversal caught him off guard. "Are you sure?"
"I think that one who has saved my life has at least earned the right to use my name."
He shook his head. "He wouldn't have killed you in any event. You're far too valuable alive."
She didn't argue with him, but she plainly disagreed with something.
"Nevertheless you have spared me. I will see you rewarded."
"I seek no reward, my lady."
"If you insist," he said. "Merian it is."
She gave just a hint of a smile. "As you said, no one to impress here."
It irked him to have his own words used against him, even though he was sure she was only teasing.
"So it's only temporary after all," he sighed. "I guess that means when I get you back home I'll have to go back to calling you Princess, and Highness, and the like."
"When you…what?" She looked confused.
"When I get you back. home," he repeated. At her blank look he added, "You didn't think I was going to send you off on your own, did you?"
"I did not know what you intended."
"I told you my plans last nigh– Oh. Right." He grinned sheepishly at her.
"I fell asleep." Her tone was flat. Completely unreadable. "What plans?"
"Our route, supplies, things like that. I intend to get you home, not just leave you to find a way on your own."
She picked at her food. "Well your offer is tempting, but I must refuse."
Her tone once more became formal, and that was much worse than her teasing him in return.
"Well If you seek no reward, why are you so determined?"
"Ah, now we come to it; you're still suspicious."
"No, not anymore. It is nothing like that." She bit her lip.
She tilted her chin up primly at him again. "You have not answered my question. Why are you so determined?"
"You don't remember? I promised to not allow anyone to harm you."
She frowned. "I do recall a dramatic oath that was more than I expected. What of it?"
"The only way I know how to keep that promise is to personally see you home. Because honestly I don't think you'll make it alone."
"But I have only to cross the border, and I am in friendly territory," she protested.
"Splendid. You'll accept my help till then, at least. We can discuss more later."
"It is not quite that simple."
"All right," he sighed. "Out with it. What's the real reason?"
She fidgeted under his stare for a bit, then finally said, "A young woman traveling alone with a strange man would be even more outrageous than her sleeping in his bed or borrowing his clothes. A generous offer, and I thank you, but think of the talk.”
He nearly laughed. "You're willing to risk your safety for the sake of appearances? Of all the foolish–" he cut himself off, unwilling to finish that sentence and possibly goad her into leaving right then. He began again. "You traveled alone with three men who did mean you harm. There's no denying that."
"But not by my choice," she said. "Is is not the same thing as agreeing to it."
He raised his eyes heavenward, pleading for patience. Stubborn was too mild a word for her.
"Have you considered what you'll eat?" he asked her. "Can you build a shelter if necessary? A fire? Do you even know the way, or would you be traveling blindly westward? Can you even tell west from east in here?"
"You are not making this any easier," she groaned.
"It's not supposed to be easy. You need my help, don't deny it!"
She didn't. She did not say anything.
"It's utter foolishness," he said at length. "However if you refuse, I can't force you."
"No," she said, “But…” she wavered as she looked up and around, as though realizing for the first time that she did not know precisely where she was. Whether because she did know her directions after all, or purely by happenstance, her gaze lingered as she looked west, towards Arenath.
Lost. So lost and confused. Pity overcame his frustration and he tried again.
"I will give you all the help I can, but no more than you allow. I leave it to you.
However, May I say that if you’re worried about how people will talk, consider what your family would say about you refusing an offer of help. I’m sure they care less about the manner of your return than they do that you return home safely in the first place.”
If she didn’t listen to him this time, he would consider himself absolved of at least half of his oath. The thought should have felt freeing. It did not.
"It is kind of you to offer," she said haltingly, as though she struggled with the words. "I had not thought it through. I do need… I would be glad to accept any help you can offer, even as a guide."
It was plain to see that this admission took an effort, and he knew he'd better tread carefully.
"All I can give," he said.
She closed her eyes."What will my father say to this?”
“I hope we get you home to find out. One cannot scold a daughter who isn’t home to tell the tale.”
It was all very easy for him to say. He was not the one risking his reputation. Nonetheless she did not rise to whatever bait he dangled in front of her.
The food was gone. Merian waited, uncertain of what to do next. Erandir leaned back with a contented sigh.
"Now that's settled, you have a tale to tell."
"Not much of one. You guessed most of it."
"What would you like to know?"
"Hmm." He frowned in concentration. "Tell me how it is that just three men, no matter how skilled, can kidnap a princess. You must have been well guarded. What happened?"
She winced. "If it had been only three, I would not be here, and my guards would still be alive."
"What?" He sat bolt upright. "More than three? How many?"
"I did not have time to stop and count," she snapped, and was immediately sorry for it.
He looked stunned, whether from her story so far, or the way she had responded, she could not tell.
"I'm sorry. Please. Go on."
He looked almost desperate now, which made no sense to her.
“I hardly know where to start. Some things you may know already.”
“Assume I know none of it. That’ll make it easier on you.”
She cleared her throat to conceal a laugh, and on an impulse she gave him exactly what he asked for.
“Centuries ago, King Falon of Lyria divided his kingdom among his three sons—“
“All right, all right,” Erandir said, rolling his eyes. “Don’t assume I know nothing.”
She smiled. It had been worth it to chase the stunned look from his face, but unfortunately she was no closer to deciding what to say. She could probably assume he knew that Encharth, on the northern border to both countries, had steadfastly remained neutral. And it was no secret that Arenath was still attempting to form an alliance. Dorenan was as well.
“I was sent to Encharth to appeal directly to their king for aid. More because Father thought that I would be safer there, away from everything, than from any belief that I could succeed where others had failed. Of course, I did not go alone; I was given twenty soldiers in addition to my usual guard and Anelle, my lady in waiting. We could hardly spare more. Even if we could have, twenty was deemed almost more than necessary, as we were traveling north and east where Dorenan's armies had not penetrated, so far as we knew. We were ambushed in the Forenwood. There were soldiers lying in wait for us. So many. A company at least, perhaps more, commanded by Faldur."
A small sound escaped Erandir's throat, but he turned it into a cough and did not interrupt further.
She closed her eyes, willing herself to get through this, though the memory was painful. She blinked back sudden tears, and her voice caught.
"Twenty are no match for a hundred. At least seven were cut down before we knew it, then there was a desperate struggle. We fought–that is to say, my men fought, with Anelle and me in the middle surrounded by the best of them, but there was not much we could do against so many. When they called for our surrender, promised our lives, we agreed. I thought we had no other option. Further resistance would only lead to–" she could not finish. Not without breaking down completely, and she had already gone much further than she had intended.
He laid his hand on hers, and for once she did not pull away.
She swiped at her tears with the back of her other hand."It is all right now." Her voice came out more quietly than she intended.
"No, it's not. I shouldn't have–" he moved his hand, as if just realizing what he had done.
"Really, I will be fine. It was hard at first, but now it is over." She gave a small smile, and hoped she looked convincing. She wished he had not seen her like that at all, and it would only get harder to control if he continued.
"It could've waited," he said.
When next he spoke it was in quite a different tone.
"Until fairly recently, Faldur worked alone. Some four years ago, he hired Reul and Telem, and I've never known him to work with anyone else." He frowned. "This could change everything."
He turned to her and started to say something, then stopped.
"Go on," she said. "I know you have more questions."
"What happened to the others?"
"Faldur dismissed the soldiers, sending my men with them as prisoners, but he took me."
She lowered her eyes. "I do not know what became of Anelle. I lost sight of her in the confusion before the surrender, and at least in my hearing there was no mention made of her after that. Faldur and Telem had a boat waiting for us at the Tyransir. We traveled that way until the course of the river turned west. Reul was waiting for us there with horses. You more or less know the rest."
"Well planned," he said, as if to himself. "How did they know where you'd be?"
"That is the worst of it," she said. "We have been betrayed. We have a spy in our midst, and the only one who knows it is me. Far away, and helpless to do anything about it."
She pressed her lips together in an effort to steady herself again.
"Do you know who it is?" he asked.
She shook her head. "I only heard a little when they thought I was asleep. But it must be someone close to us. Our exact plans were known only to a few."
He looked up, suddenly resolute.
"Well then, we'd best get going. And that, fast." He pulled two waterskins from his pack and filled them, then stood and helped her up.
"It's a two day trip to Wettham, and it's past noon now."
She shrugged. "What does that matter? We will be traveling for weeks."
He did not respond. She looked straight at him, wondering if perhaps he had not heard.
"What are you not telling me?" she asked.
"It's two days…eastward. I should have told you before."
"East? But I need to go–"
"West, I know. I'm sorry, but it can't be helped."
Now he did look at her, seeming genuinely apologetic.
"There is no other option?"
"Not unless you want a food supply that's unpredictable at best," he said. "I'd rather not think about the worst."
Home was so far away as it was. Adding two days in the opposite direction, and two days back again, should not be so very hard to accept, but it was.
He broke into her thoughts as if he could read them. "In the long run it'll be faster, not having to forage, and it might even be safer. Faldur will surely expect you to go west straight away."
She took a deep breath. "All right. If we must."
He kicked dirt over the remains of the fire, gathered his pack, and walked back without even waiting for her to follow.
She was going to have to have a talk with him about such behavior.
By the time she caught up with him, he had already reached the house.
Packing took him less time than she had expected, for it seemed he had begun much earlier. His pack, the one he had brought out with him earlier, was already almost full. Of what, she could only guess. He took a bundle from the cedar chest, and loaded it into a second pack, along a couple of thin woolen blankets and various other small things. The little remaining food he put into his own, then he rolled up the deerskin he had slept on, along with another, and tied them on to it securely.
Next he strapped his sword by his side. Not for the first time did she wonder how he could own such a fine weapon. If she was not mistaken, that was gold on the hilt, though his sheath was unadorned, and looked as though it had seen much use.
Not for the first time was she glad she had one of her own.
He, however, glanced down at it doubtfully. "How well can you use that?"
She chose not to take offence, and merely answered, "Well enough."
He shook his head and smiled. "And you a princess. I never would have thought it."
"Would you like to test me to be sure? Doubtless you could show me how it is done."
"Maybe later," he laughed. "We certainly don't have time now. And anyway, we'd best save our energy for the journey."
Lastly came a bow and a quiver full of arrows with yellow fletching.
"A pity I haven't a spare bow," he said.
Odd that he assumed she could shoot.
She picked up the larger of the two packs, and was surprised by the weight of it.
"What on earth do you have in here? "
"I'll take that," he said. "If you wish, you can take the other, but I wasn't sure if you…" his voice trailed off awkwardly. He looked as uncomfortable as she had ever seen him, and she had to admit she was enjoying it. "I know," she said with a smile.
He must have at least hoped she would be willing to carry her share, or else why should he pack a second bag, but she was certain he hadn’t known how to ask.
"Do you have such a low opinion of me? Or is it royalty in general that you distrust?"
He coughed. "I wouldn't put it that way."
"A princess I may be, but I am determined not to be a helpless one. I can carry more than you might think."
She shouldered the pack, relieved that after all she had said she could carry it with ease. She could only imagine what he would have said had she been unable.
"Full of surprises, you are," he grinned. "This does make things simpler. I'll admit I didn't much like the thought of carrying enough for two.
Arenath must be a strange and wonderful place, where the nobility are truly noble, and their women wear steel rather than velvet."
She laughed and shook her head, even as a pang of homesickness struck her.
"I want you to take this," he said, handing her a sheathed knife. "If something goes wrong, you may need it."
The sudden seriousness of his tone worried her. "What do you think could go wrong?"
"Nothing, I hope." A brief smile flitted across his face, then was gone. "I just like to be prepared. That's all."
At last they set off. After they left the clearing, it was more of a climb than a walk. Though uphill, it was a little easier than the way down had been the night before, as now there was enough light to see by. Still, the light that came through the thick green leaves was not nearly as bright as it should have been at midday. They passed through some exceptionally thick undergrowth before the ground leveled and the trees thinned; letting in more light, even if it was still tinged with green.
"Look behind you," Erandir said.
She turned, and was surprised to see nothing that resembled a path at all. Nothing distinguished the place from any other patch of woodland, at least to her eyes, nor was there any sign that the ground was not as level as it seemed.
"You could pass by this a hundred times and not know anything was there," she said.
"Aye, and it's the same thing around most of this valley. Unless you're looking for it, you probably won't find it."
He resumed his quick pace, just as her many questions returned to the front of her mind. She was well aware that he had not answered all she had asked him. She hurried to catch him. "How did you find it then?"
He shrugged. “I know what to look for. The shape of these trees are distinct to me, if not to you. Also there’s patches of mint around the area. In the dark, I can follow my nose.”
He hadn’t really answered her question. Based on how they had ascended, she doubted one could find it accidentally without having a nasty fall to the bottom.
“No, I meant how did you find it the first time?”
"What do you mean? I live here."
"Not always," she said. "I can tell."
"Oh?" He smirked. "And how would you know that?"
So many little things that listing them all would take too long.
"I notice you are not denying it."
He grumbled something she did not understand.
"I know that you are more than you seem," she tried again.
"Everyone is more than they seem," he said. "The trick is to see it."
"But not everyone is a noble in hiding," she said.
"What?" He stopped short and looked at her as though she had taken leave of her senses. "Whatever gave you that idea?"
"Perhaps a knight." She studied him again, seeing him through new eyes. "Yes, a knight errant, living off the land. It suits you."
That could not be it, but a random guess might spur him to answer.
Or not. He started walking again. "You have a very good imagination, my lady, but don't let it run away with you."
"I can tell you are not a commoner. The sword alone proves that."
"Does it now?" He glanced back with a smile. "You might be surprised at how many swordsmen I know. Commoners all. The quality of the blade varies, it’s true, but in general swords are less expensive here than in Arenath, and they’re a fine deterrent to bandits. Many, like my own, were either passed down or bought from soldiers returning from war."
She was only becoming more certain, so she stood her ground. "How many of these swordsmen can read and write?"
He stilled for a moment before going on. "Not as many, I'll give you that, but even that is not so rare as you seem to think. I should introduce you to Wynn. That'd settle it for you."
She refused to let him redirect the conversation again, no matter what.
"If you are not a noble, how is it you know about the things you told me? Lord Aremor, the king's death, the staged attacks, everything. It all adds up to either a pack of lies, or…"
She let that hang in the air.
He turned on her suddenly, his eyes darkened with a fury now directed squarely at her. "Pack of lies? You don't believe me?"
"But I do," she said, matching his anger with equal calm. "I simply believe you must have had an unusual opportunity to learn it, or else it would be common knowledge."
His jaw tightened and he turned away, walking faster than before.
"I will believe what is true, and I will thank you not to insult my intelligence any further!"
At that he stopped again, so she caught up. It appeared she had won.
"Can you honestly deny it?"
He did not look at her, and was silent for so long that she began to think he would not answer her at all.
"My father was a knight," he said at last. “And yes, he owned property not so far from here. You could say this place was an extension of that, so no. I haven’t always lived here but I might as well have, especially after my father died. He was killed nearly nine years ago in one of lord Aremor's staged attacks. That's how I know."
"I am sorry," she said, and she was. But she could not let it go just yet.
"Why would you try to hide it?"
“Hide it? It’s not something I wanted to talk about, but that’s not exactly the same thing.”
She raised her eyebrows at this, though as he still wasn’t looking at her the effect was lost on him. He had avoided answering simple questions, and gotten angry when she had pressed him about it. This was not a promising start to their journey. She made no move, waiting for a better answer.
“I had hoped you would trust me for my own sake, regardless of any position I once might have had, nor any title my father held." He frowned. "It doesn't matter anyway. Shouldn't."
Should it not? A Dorenian noble was unlikely to inspire trust in her. Something he did not seem to grasp. Rather, if she had known from the start, she might have had even more difficulty agreeing to his plans.
As it was, any trace of suspicion she might have had was largely overshadowed by everything else he had done for her. Not that she was pleased with the attempts to distract her, but in this she sensed he was genuine.
"Were you ever going to tell me?"
"I don’t know." He sighed. “It’s habit to avoid the topic. Faldur has many ways of gathering information, and the less folk around here know about who I am the better. I didn't count on you being so perceptive."
He glanced sidelong at her. "Or tenacious. Are you always like this?"
She caught the light in his eye that told her he was not angry anymore. "Well if you like, I can pretend to be a foolish, highborn lady who cares for naught but the latest fashions."
She blinked up at him innocently, and he rolled his eyes.
“That’d be odd, coming from someone dressed as you are.”
She smoothed the hem of her tunic. It had certainly seen better days, but he was likely referring to the trousers rather than to the faded and worn fabric of her dress.
“You wish to discuss my clothing now?”
“No, I’d rather we get going.”
Some time later, Erandir noticed she was falling behind. He stopped to wait for her, expecting her to ask if they could rest for a while.
"You need not stop on my account, Sir."
She looked pale and worn, but quite determined. He decided to ignore the "Sir".
"You look as though you need to."
He looked at her a little longer, trying to gauge her sincerity.
"We should go on," she said.
"As my lady commands," he replied. "I hope you don't regret it later."
ETA: Chapter Three is here
