A Deep and Rapid River, Ch. 11
<- Chapter 10
Summary: The end of a journey and the start of a new one
The world was beautiful—bright blue skies stretched overhead with a few lazy white cotton puffs drifting unhurriedly through and topping distant snow-covered peaks. Insects fluttered and chirped in the afternoon heat from the tall grass that lined the dirt road at the center of town, where tiny white and yellow flowers bloomed. Inside the gloomy church, you hadn't even noticed what was waiting just outside.
It was not a peaceful summer day, however. Word travels fast in a small village, though not always well or with accuracy, and a general chaos turns in the air—villagers carrying buckets of water clamor toward the smoke and others, still screaming, clamor to get away. It won’t be long before men with muskets come to hunt the great beast who had caused the calamity and abducted a bride from her wedding.
A large but fast warmblood waits, loosely tied to post just outside the church door. You could swear you’ve seen it somewhere before.
The creature sets you on its back side-saddle, before climbing on behind you and spurring the horse to a gallop. Behind you, a handful of villagers stare after you in shock.
“We shall be long gone before they recover enough to come after us,” he says, a laugh brightening the edges of his voice. You grin into the wind, fingers grasping at a handful of chestnut mane. You’re both exhilarated, and can hardly believe what just happened.
As you continue down the road, reality has to catch up sooner or later. Fear creeps back into your mind.
“Where are we going? What will we do?!”
“Are you not happy? You came with me of your own accord...”
“Of course I’m happy! “Of course I’m happy! You rescued me from that nightmare.” You’re not sure how to show your affection while trying not to fall off a galloping horse, so you nuzzle your face against the arm he has wrapped around you. “Only, we still have the same problem we had yesterday,” you frown.
“In truth, I may have wallowed and wasted away in self-pity, doubting if interference on my part was wanted, but I was encouraged to action. There is something that may assuage some of your apprehension.”
He slows the horse and turns its reins down a narrow path into the forest, barely visible from the road. You ride for several minutes, ducking sharp branches that tug at your dress, winding through the undergrowth until it opens up upon a small clearing at the edge of the river. The water is cool and clear, far calmer than the angry brown churning that overflowed the banks in the spring.
“This is where we first met, isn’t it?”
He slides himself off the saddle and lands softly in the tall grass. Taking the reins under the animal’s chin, he leads you toward a figure waiting at the far side of the meadow, under the dappled shade where the forest line hangs just over the riverbank. A smaller horse grazes idly beside them. He raises a large hand and waves to them. The figure waves back, mahogany curls bouncing with the movement, the light catching on their long, fussy sleeves.
It couldn’t be.
“Stop where you are!” she barks as the creature approaches too close. “Fifteen feet, remember our deal?” She holds up a hand in front of her eyes and squeezes them shut as if to erase him from her vision.
“Bess?” you stammer.
She looks up at you with big brown eyes and smiles. “Sorry for missing your wedding. I heard it sucked.”
You jump off the horse and nearly knock her her flat with the force of your hug. “What are you doing here? How did? What? And you didn’t—” your mouth is running at a million miles a minute yet you can’t quite manage to articulate words.
“Alright, alright,” she pats your back. “I am astonishing, I know.” She steps back and gestures to a large leather saddle bag next to her on the ground. “While everyone was distracted, I packed everything you’ll need to survive. Baked some hardtack special for you, so you shouldn’t starve for at least a month, though I recommend foraging something to supplement it.”
“This… this was your idea?” Your jaw hangs open. “But I… But you...” Your open jaw wobbles in disbelief, your last memory of Bess wide-eyed with terror and screaming.
She tucks a hand on her hip and looks aside. “I saw what I saw, and I was shocked. Frankly, it would have been a lot to process even without a damned—whatever you call him—involved. I didn’t say anything of course, but it was distressing. I didn’t know what to think. That you were cavorting with the legions of Hell after all? Then I recalled your strange behavior of late—your distraction, your mysterious smiles and contented sighs. Always hiding away in that barn yet refusing any aid with your chores. After I could breathe again it was not difficult to put together. I’m not a dummy, dummy,” she smiles.
“Suddenly they were forcing you to marry Ferdinand. I knew you would never do so willingly, but I had no power to stop their machinations. I didn't know what to do, so on a hunch, I checked your barn and found this brute curled on the floor with ten cats, weeping into one of your chemises. Thus I recruited him to my aid.”
The creature steps forward and gestures a large hand toward Bess in a friendly manner. “It was she who secured the horse and supplies, and who suggested—”
Bess waves him away sharply, clamping a hand over her eyes. “I’m sorry, guy, I cannot even look at you.” She shudders deep and sickeningly to her core. “You are fucking crazy,” she says to you, “I don’t get it. But this fellow makes you happy, doesn’t he?” You nod. “Then I am happy for you. This town has been a prison for you ever since we were children; I watched it draining your life, your dreams. So take your scary boyfriend and get out of here!”
Tears sting the back of your eyes. The creature was right—all along, Bess would have understood. Instead of confiding in a friend, you let fear lead you by the nose into a trap from which the two of them busted you out just before the door could snap shut behind you forever.
“I should have told you.” You wipe your eyes, laughing softly. “I’m an idiot.”
“No…” she coos soothingly, with some hesitation. “Well, yes. A little. But we love you.” She makes a visor over her brow with her hand and points in the general direction the massive, ominously looming creature is standing. “He loves you quite a lot, you know.”
“I know,” you smile, blessing him with a gaze affectionately returned (though he keeps his distance from the flighty Bess, occupying himself by packing up the horse). “He’s wonderful.”
“It takes all types,” she shakes her head. “Alright then,” she clears her throat, steeling herself, “Ride as hard as you can until you reach the next town. Blake is our fastest, strongest horse and should be able to bear the weight for a sprint of that distance. That should be enough of a head start to then disappear on foot, especially if nobody knows your intended destination is Geneva. If you would be so kind as to return the horse to the livery stable there—it is run by my cousin, and he won’t ask any questions. When you reach your destination, I expect a letter or I’ll think you’re dead.”
“You’re not coming with us?”
Her eyes grow wet. “It isn’t my journey. This place is not so much a cage for me as it has been for you. Though one day, I hope, we shall meet again.”
“I will miss you.” Your lower lips quivers with unspoken sorrow. She hugs you fiercely and protectively one last time before pulling back with a sniffle.
“Now go on! You must hurry before they come looking for you.”
The creature reaches down a hand. You clasp it, warm and strong in its grip, and he pulls you up onto the back of the muscular horse. Bess waves, running after you on foot as he kicks the horse into a brisk canter. “Don’t forget that letter!”
Tears stream down your face as you turn in the saddle and watch Bess and the river grow smaller and smaller, and eventually be swallowed up by the forest. You inhale deeply and let out a long, shaking breath.
“Are you all right?” the creature’s question vibrates in his chest, pressed to your back.
“Yeah.”
He is silent for awhile. The wild exhilaration of your escape from the church has withered and been replaced by a mournful determination to move forward. To begin new lives. The reality is not so glamorous as you reminisce on all the things you are leaving behind—Bess, Edelweiss, your flock of chickens and barn cats, the moss-covered boulders that were your secret place since childhood—yet you are ready to build that new life, whatever challenges lie ahead. You’ll have the best help one can hope for.
You let your weight shift back so your head rests against the creature’s chest. His long black hair flutters around you in the wind. He leans down and presses gentle kisses on your hair and your shoulders, and a comforting warmth spreads beneath your skin. You feel safe and cared for.
“Do you hate me? You must hate me,” you murmur into the wind, but his sharp ears pick up every word.
“I love you,” his chest rumbles. “You are my life, as much as the air that fills my lungs. Why should I hate you?”
“I was useless. I gave up. I was so terrified, I gave up on us. How can you ever forgive me?”
“You saved my wretched life long ago, dear angel.” He holds the reins in one fist, and slides his other hand under your arm, caressing your side and splaying out his fingers over your belly, smoothing the fabric of the gown. The gesture is warm and possessive, and keeps you secure on the speeding horse as you melt into him, intoxicated by his touch. “You dragged me out of misery into the light—cared for me with patience and love I never believed myself deserving of. You stood beside me and tended my wounds of both flesh and of my soul. Your company alone is a gift of which I was made unworthy. I have always wanted to thank you for saving me.”
“Now we’re even, huh?” you laugh.
“No,” he replies softly and insistently. “I think I would like to continue paying you back.”
The hand he had rested on your belly glides up to tip your chin toward him, and he presses a precarious kiss to your lips. A small jolt of hooves over the terrain sends you clutching for mane, but his steady hand darts back around your waist to keep you balanced.
“I will have to exact more payment once we have arrived on solid ground yet again,” you promise sinfully, resting a hand over his and squeezing it. “I want to kiss all of the scars on your handsome face.”
His chest vibrates with an eager hum of anticipation.
As you ride away from your old life, you feel something changing deep in your bones. You are already farther from your home than you have ever been, and ahead of you is the wide horizon of blue skies speared by sharp mountain peaks. You look up at the closest mountain to the road. It is not one you think you have seen before, although its shape is hauntingly familiar, like the face of a childhood friend, after years of separation, as an adult.
“What mountain is that?” You point to it.
“It is the white-crested peak of the great mountain that overlooks your town. The one I greatly admired from the window of the hayloft. We face its west slope, now.”
A wave of excitement for the future surges through you like electricity. What will your life look like from a fresh angle?
