There and back again - The continuing journey

CHAPTER 17 - THE REUNION OF HEARTS AND BODIES.

Later that day, after he had dressed her in fresh clothing, she walked about silently, going about her tasks, refusing his help when it was offered, and seemingly unable to speak.

She prepared their food and they ate it, but no discourse passed between them. He occasionally heard the soft hiccuping of her remaining tears, but thought it best to leave her to her thoughts, not wanting to distress her further, though he longed to comfort her. He sat and watched her as she replenished the fire, but he saw that she could not meet his gaze.

She went into the shelter and he saw her remove her dress, rolling it up and placing the soft roll of cloth at the head of his feathered sleeping mat. For even in her misery and despair, she was still mindful of his comfort.

He went in to lie beside her as she lay with her back to him, but when he reached out his hand to touch her, for the first time since they had met, he felt her flinch away from him, and he thought that it was the saddest thing he had ever had to bear.

She awoke screaming in the night, scurrying backwards on her hands and feet into the corner, her eyes wide with terror as she looked at him, and he saw that she had taken his dagger and was holding it out in front of her.

And so passed the 'silent days', as Guy was later to call them.

They packed up their camp each morning, Guy saddling the animals, loading the packhorse after Auriel had rolled up the bedding and taken down the shelter.

Then he would lift her onto his horse, tightly wrapped in her cloak, feeling her grow rigid with fear, and drawing away from him, while he could find no words with which to console her or bring her back to him.

They had been on the road for only two weeks and the journey already felt interminable to him.

On the eleventh day after the attack, when he mounted his horse behind her, after kicking out the remains of the fire, she did not move forward and he noticed her shoulders were bare, she was not wearing her woollen cloak, but had draped it instead across her knees. He did not urge the horse forward but waited a moment and the air was pregnant with the silence.

She was shaking violently and he could hear her breathing rapidly as she moved her hair to the side and whispered to him, "Sweetheart, I would feel your soft breath on my neck," then she leaned back slowly into his arms. He did not touch her with his hands, but a long sigh of gratitude left his body. He saw her gently wipe his tears from her bare shoulder and they rode on together as the healing from her terrible ordeal began.

She took to walking alone in the evenings after they had eaten, but never straying far, and when he asked her of it, she remarked that she was listening to the nightingales.

On the third evening, he was so fearful for her safety, that he picked up a blanket and followed her, so that he could wrap it around her should she be chilled. He found her standing beneath a tree and there was indeed a nightingale.

She stood with her back to him at first, but he heard her gently say, "Here you are then my love."

She turned and held out her arms to him, for the first time since that dreadful night and as he moved forward she said, "listen with me to the nightingales my darling," and then he heard the crying in her voice as she added, "and then love me here, for only the touch of your hands can take away the memory of it."

He spread out the blanket for her to lie on, but she remained standing and he saw her small smile, "are you now so attuned to me, that you foresee my every need my love?" she asked.

He answered, "Your soul will always be entwined with mine."

She put out her hands and slowly untied the fastenings of his linen shirt, lifting it over his head. Then she lowered her face to his chest and inhaled the scent of him, her lips and fingers tracing the contours of his chest and he felt the wetness of her tears.