The TwiceBorn

All The World Is All I Am

 “Do you ever wonder why things have to turn out the way they do?” --Sparks

         She had never thought Behrin would send Aubery.  Islinn struggled to balance herself behind the boy as he pushed the gelding into a canter.  She didn’t want to touch him but she was forced to wrap one arm around his waist as the horse lurched beneath her.  Her upper lip curled of its own accord.

She hoped she’d sounded brave earlier.  Because she was very far from it.  Sending Aubery after her was part of an unspoken understanding between her and Behrin.  Their own poisonous little secret.  She’d never been able to hide her fear of the boy and Behrin had been on it like a cat on a mouse, watching her,watching him, gauging, deliberating,figuring out how he could work it to his advantage. 

And it looked like he’d finally figured it all out.

The rain was starting to come down in sheets.  She was already soaked to the bone and the chill of it all was working in deep.  Sitting so close to Aubery though was like being near a furnace and she wondered, idly, if madness generated its own heat.  Like a fever.  Burning and growing as it fed off of reason and compassion.

 A quick glance to her left showed her Gre, propped back in his saddle while his pony chugged merrily along, oblivious to the weather.  Any other time she would have laughed. She’d been a bit surprised to see him at the door.  Only because she knew how he felt about Aubery.

A sharp crack of thunder echoed across the grasslands and she felt the horse shudder.  She was thrown against Aubery’s back and her nose caught the smell of old sweat and some sort of wild offal that she somehow knew was nothing but meanness, as crusty and thick as garden loam. 

Before she could shift herself back on the saddle, Aubery had buried his heels in the horse’s sides and physically pushed the balky horse back into a canter. She could hear him muttering under his breath, nonsensical words she couldn’t make out.  He sure seemed to be in an awful hurry to get himself killed.

Because she had no doubt Alora would kill him, him and Gre both. Her neck was achy and full feeling. Every time she swallowed she felt as though she had a small rough pebble lodged in the back of her throat.  And good ol’ Gre had dragged Aubery off of her.  Good ol’ Gre.

The horse beneath her was laboring, she could tell from the choppy gait and the constant hammering of Aubery’s heels into its sides.  It would be wrung out soon. Islinn thought the storm was keeping it moving more than Aubery’s frantic efforts though.  The wind had a cold tinge to it as it whipped against her face.  Bulging dark clouds raced across the sky almost low enough to touch.

“There!  We’ll wait there!”  Aubery screamed into the wind as he pointed at a small knoll right outside of the treeline.

“Aubery, we need to get to cover!  The storm’s too bad!” Gre, always the voice of reason, yelled back and Islinn could see the fear etched in every line of his face.

Rain ran and dripped into her eyes. As she clambered down off the gelding she slipped on the wet grass and fell.  Aubery yanked her up and dragged her over behind the small rise.

“Don’t you fucking move.”  He yelled at her then waved an impatient hand at Gre to join them. 

“Gre, bring the crossbow!”

In spite of the rain, a light sweat sprung out all over Islinn’s body.

“You coward.”

Her voice was soft but the jeering tone of it carried over the raging storm.  Aubery whirled around.

“What did you say,bitch?”

“You heard me,” Islinn replied.  Inside she was shaking.  Killing the dreaded Twiceborn was one thing.  But to lay in wait like a snake in the grass was another.  Though Islinn was sure it was a tactic that had been tried before and had obviously failed.  Still though, she worried it would give Aubery an edge.  An advantage he so richly did not deserve.