Sorrows of Adoration (3 page)

“Were you seen? Would
your presence have been missed?” asked the second man.

I didn’t know how to
answer, and my mind was too panicked and fatigued to coherently
consider the possibility at that point. I felt tremendous guilt at
my lack of knowledge, and bowed my head and said, “I don’t know.
I’m sorry. It was foolish, I know, to just run off, but I didn’t
know how else to warn you. I tried to come quickly, but it was so
much further than I imagined, and after a while my legs, they just
wouldn’t move as fast as I wanted them to.”

“How far behind you do
you imagine they would be?” asked the Prince.

“I’m sorry,” I
stammered, feeling the urge to weep from exhaustion and shame. “I
don’t know. They weren’t behind me when I knocked, and they seemed
to plan to be here after dark, but I don’t know if they left early,
or if my disappearance was notable to them.”

“Are they well
armed?”

I tried desperately to
think to what I had seen, but felt my mind slipping away as the
floor began to feel unstable under my knees. I reached my arm out
to the wall to steady myself, wanting very much to stay alert to
answer their questions. I looked at the Prince again and said, “I
saw a few swords, Your Highness, but most of them carried axes.
Their horses didn’t have armour that I saw. The men, I don’t know
if they had armour, but they weren’t wearing any in our pub.”

The two men looked at
each other, and I could not tell if they believed my tale or not.
“Please,” I said, “You have to leave. I don’t know if they’re
trained or well armed or even if their plan is sound, but there are
two of you and so many of them. Your Highness, please, you have to
flee this outpost, and they could arrive at any moment. I’m sorry,
really I am, to have burst in here with an incredible tale but you
must believe me—I did not imagine what I heard, and it was repeated
enough to not have been misunderstood. I know it is terribly rude
of me to come here unannounced and tell you to leave, but…” I could
not think of what else to say, and stopped my own babbling before
they thought me a complete fool.

They started talking to
each other in low tones, and I prayed that they would hurry up and
leave. I realized I too had to flee, knowing full well those
bandits would not suffer me to live for having warned the Prince. I
tried to turn and reach for the door in hopes of running out to the
now dark woods, perhaps to find a place to hide and rest
overnight.

The old woman saw me
reaching for the door and said, “Where are you going, girl?”

I tried to look at her,
but my eyes would no longer focus. I closed them and said, “I must
take my leave so the Prince can prepare to escape.” Closing my eyes
turned out to be a poor idea, and I found myself unable to open
them again. I heard the old lady say “ridiculous”, but I didn’t
know whether she meant me or my story. I tried to reach for the
door again and felt myself slumping against the cold stone floor. I
fought against the fatigue, desperately afraid I would be left
behind to die, but I could no longer tell what direction I was
facing, let alone where the door might be.

I felt myself
being lifted from the floor and managed to open my eyes enough to
see the Prince himself lifting me. My mind cried,
No, there is no
time,
and I tried to
tell him to hurry up and leave, to go to a safe town, that I was
just a silly barmaid and not worth wasting the time over. I wasn’t
sure if I spoke aloud or not and worried greatly that, because of
my weakness, he might remain too long out of chivalry and be killed
for it. But I could fight the fatigue no more, and a sea of
greyness clouded over my eyes as he carried me.

* * *

When I awoke, I was
cold despite being under two heavy blankets. I found myself on a
thin pile of straw in a cart that was not moving. The other man who
had been with the Prince was gently shaking my shoulder to rouse
me. He softly said, “Wake, good lady. Please wake up.” When I
looked at him, he said, “Sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“Aenna,” I said
hoarsely, my throat still dry from the run and now numbed from
sleep.

“Aenna, the men you saw
have reached the outpost. We can see it burning from here.”

I sat up and looked
where he pointed. We had travelled downhill to the south, and
indeed I could see the outpost at the top of the path, glowing
brightly against the night sky.

“We have only two
horses, so we started off with you and Gilaela in the cart, but by
now the assassins know we have fled and will surely follow the
tracks of the cart. It is too slow to pull it behind us, so you,
Gilaela, and the Prince must share the two horses between you and
flee faster. I shall go on foot—I know the way, and I can go
through the woods without a horse. They won’t think to do the same,
so I shall be safe and you three can move faster,” he said.

I saw that the Prince
was seated on a horse already, wearing a great flowing cape
embroidered with his crest. The old woman sat uneasily on the other
horse.

“I’ll slow them down,”
I said. I didn’t know where I would go otherwise, but I was
determined not to allow my weakness to cause the Prince’s death. “I
can go off another direction on my own. You shouldn’t be pausing to
worry about me.”

“No, I won’t hear of
it,” said the man who had woken me. “You saved our lives, and I
don’t think any of us wish to see you crawl off alone to die in
these woods. You’re in no condition to flee alone.”

“Come, ride with
Gilaela,” said the Prince. “The horse is used to carrying Jarik
here, and can manage your weight with hers. We will be able to ride
fast enough.”

“No,” I said, shamed at
my defiance but intent on allowing the Prince to escape without my
encumbrance. “They are on our heels, and I won’t be responsible for
slowing you down. You’ll barely make it as it is. I can go off
another direction, and perhaps slowly enough to lure them away.” I
realized what I was offering as the words came from my mouth, and
my heart thumped in my chest. I was offering to be killed, and the
idea was unsettling, to say the least.

I was, I admit,
relieved when the man the Prince called Jarik wouldn’t hear of
it.

“Certainly not! Men of
honour do not use defenceless girls as decoys!” he said.

“Indeed,” said the
Prince. “But your bravery is appreciated.”

“Go with Jarik, dear,”
said the old woman. “You’ll be safer with him than on your
own.”

“Only if you’re sure
you won’t come with us,” Prince Kurit said.

“No, I’ll be fine.
Forgive my boldness but go, Highness. They could come down the path
any moment, and I could not bear to be the reason you slowed your
flight.” I worked my way out of the cart and stood with the
blankets clutched around me, watching my breath turn to fog in the
cold night air.

“Yes, go,” said Jarik.
“We’ll find shelter for the night off in the woods and start a
journey back to Endren in the morning. We’ll see you back there in
a few days’ time.”

The Prince nodded, and
the two horses were made to hurry off down the path.

I noticed Jarik had
been laden with several packs, no doubt of supplies and gear for a
trek by foot through the woods. I offered to carry something, since
he was clearly being quite kind by allowing me to join him, but he
refused, saying I must still be exhausted.

“In the morning,
perhaps if you’re up to it you can carry a portion of the gear. For
now, we must hurry to get far off the path and find a safe place to
camp for the night,” he said.

The trees were thick on
either side of this part of the path, but Jarik said the western
side would be easier to follow eventually, since the road lay at
the western foot of the mountains after this valley. We hurriedly
entered the woods, Jarik in the lead.

The darkness was thick
and blinding in amongst the trees, and I felt very afraid. I was
able to follow Jarik only by the sound of him walking in front of
me, occasionally whispering to be careful of a low branch or
warning me of a root I might have otherwise tripped over. Though I
was still tired from my earlier journey, fear and adventure filled
me with new energy, so I was able to keep up with his pace rather
well.

I lost track of how
long we walked or what direction we travelled, but we eventually
came across a rocky ledge with a hollow beneath it. Jarik suggested
that we hide out in the hollow until the light of day, and I had no
reason to argue. He apologized that he didn’t wish to make a fire,
but I assured him that I understood it was only logical to not
attract such attention. He placed some rocks over the pack that
held food, and we each took one of the blankets I had carried and
wrapped ourselves in it. He bade me to crawl into the hollow first,
so I nestled myself against the rock tightly to allow him as much
room as possible. He positioned himself at the mouth of the hollow,
sitting upright, drawn sword in hand.

It may sound silly, but
seeing a man like that, ready to defend both me and himself, gave
me great peace. I no longer felt afraid. The bandits would no doubt
chase the Prince, and for him I worried, but for us I no longer
feared. I was able to fall asleep quickly and deeply, and my poor
exhausted body was glad of it.

THE CRY OF a bird in a
tree overhead woke me, and I found myself stiff, sore, cold and
completely disoriented. I sat up, thinking I was in my cot, and in
doing so bumped my head soundly on the rock above me.

Jarik was already
awake, searching amongst the food pack for something edible for
breakfast, and saw me bang my head. He leaned over to me and asked
if I was hurt. I remembered where I was and all that had happened,
blushed as I rubbed the small bump growing under my hair, and said,
“I’m fine. I forgot where I was.”

“I know the feeling. I
almost rolled over onto my own sword last night. Wouldn’t that have
been heroic, to escape a pack of bandits only to impale myself in
my sleep?” he asked, chuckling. I smiled at his good humour and
gladly accepted the food he handed me. It was preserved meat on
slightly stale bread, but I had not eaten in so long that it was a
feast to me.

“Your name is Jarik?” I
asked as we gathered the packs to head off.

He looked at me
strangely for a moment—I assumed because he had forgotten that both
Gilaela and the Prince had spoken his name the night before—and
then nodded. “I’m the Prince’s cousin,” he said as I emerged from
the hollow.

Realizing such a
relationship meant he too was royalty, I started to kneel. He
stopped me and said, “None of that now. I don’t need it, and we
don’t have time for such things.” He handed me a very light pack to
carry and started down the slope of the valley.

I told him I could
carry more, and he said that he wasn’t about to ask a lady to
travel across rugged terrain as a packhorse.

“I’m hardly a lady,
Lord Jarik,” I said, trying not to sound flippant. Abbottess Mercia
was forever rapping my knuckles for being flippant. “Until
yesterday, I did work for my living.”

He looked back at me
with a jovial smile. “I know you’re not a lady of the court, but
you did, after all, travel a great distance to save our lives.
That, in and of itself, deserves some measure of respect. And what
I carry isn’t heavy. Not yet, in any regard. And don’t call me
‘Lord’.”

“Forgive me,” I said in
earnest. “By what title are you known?”

“Jarik will do for now,
and I shall call you simply Aenna, since you say you are no lady,”
he said, winking like a rascal. I laughed at his teasing, for it
was clearly that, and followed him down the side of the valley.

* * *

For many hours we
walked amongst trees and rocks through the valley. Though the air
was crisp with winter’s impending chill, the sun shone brightly
overhead and I was not too cold. We kept up a steady pace, and
Jarik was kind enough to ask frequently if I needed to rest. I
rarely did, and when we did stop, I did not feel guilty of it
because he seemed to appreciate the repose as well.

We spent much of the
time talking of many things, and I grew to like this man very much.
He was pleasant, polite, good-humoured, and a little silly, which I
admit I found quite endearing. He was so unlike the men I knew from
working at the inn. Not that they were all ruffians, and some
indeed were very sweet, but this man was like those of the bards’
songs—handsome, elegant, and well-educated, and yet he seemed to
enjoy my company. Me, the little peasant girl, in the company of
royalty. What a notion!

I learned that he was
not quite a year older than myself, and his cousin only two years
older than he. It seemed strange to realize people of such high
status were close to my own age.

He frequently referred
in his conversations to great writers, poets, and other thinkers
who seemed always to have something to say about, well, everything.
I was suitably impressed at first, and then I wondered if perhaps
he was trying to impress me, which in turn made me wonder as to why
a man of nobility would seek to impress a poor girl such as myself.
I told myself I was being silly, that this must be how the nobility
speak at all times—poised, informed, and proud to show it.

Yet he was not poised
at all times. He would often make a wry comment and then wink at me
mischievously. The wink would inevitably be followed by a roguish
smile that always made me laugh. This was how we remained
throughout the day—laughing, chatting, and forgetting that we were
supposed to be fleeing for our very lives.

But the truth of the
matter was that there seemed to be no sign of the would-be
assassins. The few times I thought of them, I was filled with worry
for the good Prince and the Lady Gilaela, a title which made Jarik
laugh—he said calling her “lady” was like calling one’s nurse a
Princess. Having not had a nurse, I didn’t know what he meant, but
his infectious laughter made me giggle nonetheless.