From Darkness Won Part 32

"We'd have to be careful," Noam said. "Asking the wrong servant could get us arrested."

"Master Poe, you are a forbidding fellow," Averella said, taking in his muscular arms. "And my green travel dress is plain enough to allow me to pa.s.s as a merchant's wife. Let us pose as man and wife. Master Fox, you and Gren can be our servants. We shall claim to be fleeing Darkness and offer our services to the New Council Mother told me about. That should be enough to get us inside the city. Have you any fabric, Gren? Perhaps you could make Master Poe a merchant's tunic."

"The bedspread might work." Gren got up and entered the bedroom.

Averella smiled at the men. "We ride for Mahanaim in the morning. Pray that Arman will guide our steps."

Averella's decision made Mother unhappy. This did not deter Averella in her promise to Gren, however, which puzzled her. Though she often disagreed with her mother, she had never been bold enough to disobey. Perhaps this was some of Vrell Sparrow's persona coming to light.

Whether Vrell Sparrow was inside her or not, the next morning Averella unpacked her green travel gown, thankful to have something proper to wear.

When she unlaced the peasant dress and slipped it off her shoulders, three things startled her. First-and she had suspected this since she awoke yesterday-she was wearing no corset. Second, a man's ring hung on a gold chain around her neck. And third, linen bound her waist. No wonder she had been feeling sore.

No one had mentioned her being wounded in their tales of Vrell Sparrow. But this explained why she wore no corset, for it would aggravate a wound in such a location.

Averella clutched the bodice to her chest and stepped up to the candle to inspect the ring.

The wide gold band was topped with the crest of Armonguard-a castle-and engraved with the letters AEH. A ruby glimmered in the castle's entrance. Three smaller rubies decorated each tower on the castle.

Merciful heart! This was King Axel's signet ring.

It was all true. And even if Mother had pledged Averella to this mysterious Crown Prince, Averella would never wear such a token around her neck unless she cared for the man.

Achan Cham. Prince Gidon Hadar.

Not the Gidon Hadar she had always known and loathed. For all this time he had been an impostor.

She must truly care for the real Prince Gidon, then.

She set the ring on the sideboard and unwrapped the linen bandage. An ugly pink gash marred her smooth skin. A crusty brown scab held the wound together like wax. She could not be sure, but it looked like she had been stabbed.

She reeled over this. What kind of danger had she gone through? Hoping her travel pack held some answers, she searched it and found a satchel filled with herbs, jars of salves, linen strips, a lock of dark hair, a man's red sleeve, and a small sword she somehow knew was called Firefox.

But no corset. Even with her wound, why would she travel so far and not bring one for when she was healed? The very idea was scandalous. Perhaps Gren had it in her things.

She pulled the bodice back over her arms and cracked open the door. "Gren? Could you come here a moment?"

A shadow pa.s.sed between the distant lantern and where Averella stood. The floor creaked. The shadow stopped before the door and the faint light from Averella's candle illuminated Harnu Poe's face.

"Gren went out with Noam to check on the horses."

Averella gasped and pushed the door closed. "Thank you, Master Poe. I shall wait until she returns."

She remained beside the door until the heavy footfalls faded away. Merciful heart! How awkward to have such a man under the same roof. She couldn't very well prance around in front of him without a corset. The very idea!

She could not wait until Gren returned. She pictured Gren's face in her mind. Gren? Can you hear me?

My lady? Gren's voice squeaked. Where are you?

In my chamber, of course. Has no one spoken to you with bloodvoices before?

I did not think I was capable of such magic.

It is my magic, not yours. This fact seemed obvious to Averella, though she could not guess why. I need my corset. Do you have it?

No, my lady. You told me you disliked how tight they were. You said the boning in your gown was corset enough.

I would never!

Gren sighed as if exasperated with Averella. Maybe not before, but that is what you told me on our journey. Something about having to wear a disguise for so long.

Heat flushed up Averella's spine and burned her cheeks. Thank you, Gren. Forgive my tone. I am not myself.

Not that she had any idea who she was anymore. That she would ride a horse with no corset shocked her to no end, wounded or not. She dug the strips of linen out from her satchel and wrapped her chest as best she could.

She draped the peasant dress over the end of the bed and pulled on her own gown. The soft cotton kissed her skin, a relief from the scratchy wool of the peasant's dress. She could not fasten it herself, as the laces were on the back.

She reached out for Gren again. Gren? Could you come and help me lace my dress?

Right away, my lady.

Averella caught sight of the ring on the sideboard. She quickly put the chain back around her neck and dropped the ring inside her bodice. It hung between her gown and bindings, creating an awkward lump over her stomach. She reached into her neckline and tucked the ring and chain inside the linen bindings.

"My lady?" A knock followed Gren's voice.

She jumped and spun around so that her bare back faced away from the door. "Come in."

Once Averella was properly dressed, she went out to the main room of the cottage and sat at the table across from Noam, who was greasing horse tack. Gren sat beside her. Master Poe remained where he was across the room, leaning against the wall, arms folded.

"Are we ready to depart?" Averella asked.

"Should be, my lady," Noam said. "We only need to fill all our water jugs."

"I must warn you," she said. "My mother said that Darkness will play tricks on our minds, cause us to hallucinate. We must keep up conversation to prevent this."

"Told you there wasn't a snake," Noam said to Gren.

She smirked. "Nor were the horses talking to you."

Noam s.h.i.+fted his gaze to Averella. "But, my lady, we only have two horses. Will we travel with the cart?"

"I think that is best. That way we will look like a homeless merchant and his household." Averella looked from face to face. "Master Fox will drive, Master Poe will ride with him on top. Gren and I will sit in the back."

"What if someone stops us?" Noam asked. "What if they check me for the mark of the stray?"

"Do not fear, Master Fox. If we are truly at war, there are more important things for soldiers to worry about than a missing stray."

"Will you tell Achan of our plans?" Gren asked.

The room became very silent. "I see no reason to. My mother is aware."

"He would want to know," Gren said.

Averella searched for some excuse. Any excuse. "I am not certain I can message the prince."

Gren shot her a daring look. "You're not willing to try?"

"Not until my memory returns. And if it does not, well, too much communication would only complicate matters."

Gren huffed a sigh. "Achan is the best of men."

"I am sure he is honorable and just and good in every way. But I have no memory of him, Gren, except of our time spent in the Veil. I simply need more time."

The wagon creaked over the dirt road, south, through Darkness, toward Mahanaim. Gren and Noam sang a song.

Hear the pretty maiden sing, Hair and ribbons all flowing.

She can take my heart away, By her side I long to stay.

Averella did not know why, but this song made her uncomfortable. She tried to block out the words by focusing on their destination. If they could get inside Mahanaim...

A sour smell grew. An animal must have died nearby. She covered her nose with her hand and stared into the black surroundings. Mahanaim sat on a maze of stagnant ca.n.a.ls, she knew, but it would be days before they reached the city.

Water lapped at the sides of the wagon. How could there be water beside the wagon when she could not hear the horses wading through it?

The wagon jolted underneath her. She gripped the side. A deafening howl penetrated the night. Something rammed the side of the wagon. Water splashed into the wagon bed, drenching Averella in cold, slimy water.

She yelped and drew back from the edge of the wagon. "What is happening, Master Fox?"

But Noam was not there. No one was. In fact, Averella no longer sat in the wagon at all. She lay alone on the bottom of a small animal-skin boat.

The keening howl ripped through the Darkness again. Averella pressed her hands over her ears. The boat rocked, hit something solid. A creature jumped on her.

She screamed and slapped the creature. It was wet and furry and- "My lady, please! Ah!"

Averella stilled at the sound of Harnu's voice. Pale torchlight illuminated the wagon. No boat.

Harnu held Averella on his lap, cradling her like a child, rocking back and forth. His dark eyebrows sank low over his eyes. "Are you well, my lady?"

Averella squirmed off his lap and onto the wood floor of the wagon. Her heart was still beating so fast that it thudded in her ears. "I am fine, Master Poe. I-" She took a deep breath to clear her thoughts. "I had not experienced a vision of Darkness yet. It surprised me. I believed we were being attacked by a water beast."

Harnu pushed to his feet and climbed back onto the driver's seat. "Choose a song we all know, Noam."

Averella s.h.i.+vered, her heart still beating faster than normal. "What songs do you know, Master Poe?"

He grunted. "I rarely went to the Corner."

"Look! Lights!" Gren pointed to the right where a dozen torchlights glittered to the southwest. "Let's see who it is."

"No," Averella said. "We should steer clear. If they are unfriendly, we would not know until it was too late to flee."

"But what if they are friendly?" Gren asked.

"We cannot take that risk. We should stay on the road. The road we can trust."

"Whatever you say, my lady," Noam said.

Averella slouched against the side of the wagon. What did she know about anything? Why should she be in charge? She could be wrong about the lights. Maybe they were friendly people. People who could help them free Bran.

More bizarre thoughts a.s.sailed Averella throughout the day-or was it night?-but she was able to stop them before they went too far. She lay down in the back of the wagon, eyes drooping heavily. She should message Mother and inquire as to what would happen when she fell asleep. But before she could form the connection, her mind drifted.

Pain shot through her skull. She cowered in a briarberry bush, clutching her temples. The soldier was close, debilitating her with the pressure of his untamed bloodvoice.

She concentrated on closing her mind, something she had never needed to do simply to keep from experiencing pain. The pressure eased some, and she crawled to the top of the ridge and peeked over.

Shrouded in fog, a Kingsguard soldier fought two Poroo in a small clearing, his movements quick but careful.

She had been right. The gifted one was a soldier. Younger than she had expected, but no mere boy. He was tall, strong, and wounded. Plum bruises covered his handsome face. His dark, wet hair and soggy Kingsguard cape whipped about as he swung his sword. Studded jewels on the ivory crossguard caught her eye. He must be a n.o.ble to wield such a weapon, yet she had never seen him at court.

Movement to the far left turned her head. Prince Gidon! The heir to the throne of Er'Rets leaned against an allown tree, watching the soldier fight.

Where were his distinguished guards? The mighty s.h.i.+eld? And why was His Highness just standing there? He was quite gifted with the sword, or so his reputation said. He could be helping the soldier fight off the Poroo.

She snorted. Our new and n.o.ble, lazy king.

A third Poroo charged up behind the soldier.

Look out! She yelled to his mind.

Scratch? The soldier spun around just in time to parry the jab of a spear. He scurried back in the pine needles, holding his sword up to his attackers. "If you're not going to help, Your Highness," the soldier said to the prince, "at least climb the tree. I'd hate for you to be killed. Your death would secure my own."

Her brows shot up at his snide tone. Prince Gidon only smirked. One of the Poroo charged. The soldier waited until the last moment before dodging and swinging his blade into the creature's side. The soldier stiffened and the Poroo fell at his feet.

She felt his horror of having killed. He swallowed and exhaled before wrenching his blade free with a growl. His grey eyes flashed to the other two Poroo. He steeled himself and stepped forward.

He could do this.

Averella awoke, chilled by the sweat soaking her skin. She sat up, simply breathing until her heart fell into a steady rhythm. Dreams of Darkness felt so real, yet she had a feeling this last one had been more than a dream. A memory. Of how she came to meet the man known as Achan Cham. He had served the false Prince Gidon, the man everyone now called Esek, who had been a pretender to the throne for thirteen years. And Esek had left the real prince to die.

But Vrell Sparrow had saved him, removed arrows from his flesh, packed his wounds with spider's webs and yarrow.

Averella frowned. What in all Er'Rets was yarrow?

Her mind tumbled through the scenes again. The real prince bore the mark of the stray on his shoulder, and his back carried more scars than she could ever imagine.

According to Gren, Averella had transported him to Mahanaim, tended his wounds and sat with him in his dungeon cell, nursing him back to health. Until the Great Whitewolf and his men had freed him. She had been torn over his departure from prison, missed his company.