UNMARKED

5: Thieves in the Night

Blayre and Rory rode hard for more than half the night, completely avoiding the Crown Road that ran along the river, and taking a circuitous route that Blayre hoped would throw a potential pursuer from their trail. So far, their brief journey had been predictable - travel by day, by direct route, and sleep by night. It was severely apparent that hiding Rory in plain sight was no longer an option.

Now they combed through the hills and vales of the Emarian countryside. Farms were plentiful here, and much of the dirt road was surrounded by thick trees that kept them mostly hidden. Blayre spotted a manor house in the distance but though she longed for a real bed, she did not so much as entertain the thought of calling on the hospitality of the small estate at risk of putting Rory in more danger.

"We have to rest the horses." The duke finally called to her, breaking the long silence that had clung to the desperation of their escape.

Blayre nodded assent and stopped at the next reasonable area to make camp - a heavily wooded area on a hilltop overlooking a vale through which the River Cel, coursed.

"I don't think that anyone will be pursuing us anytime soon." Rory said, appearing from behind his horse where he had been rubbing down the gelding for the night. "They didn't likely expect us to flee like that." Blayre felt his bulky presence behind her as she finished tending to Dove whose head drooped in exhaustion.

"Sorry girl," She murmured, giving her a final pat and turning to Rorrick.

"Thank you," He said softly, he was closer than she had realized and she swallowed uncomfortably, suddenly unsure of what to do with her hands.

"It's my duty to keep you safe." She replied dumbly. Stupid. That was a stupid response, she cursed inwardly.

"I know, and thank you all the same. But if the time should come, and your life is at risk, I would prefer you did not not risk yours for mine. Too many do that for me already." Blayre had a difficult time reading his face in the darkness, but the hitch in his voice was unmistakeable.

"I think that comes with the territory, begging your pardon." She said with a half-smile, touching a hand briefly to his arm. "You're no great leader if your people are not willing to lay their lives down for you."

"I suppose that is true, but it doesn't make it any easier." Rory let out a long sigh as if he had been holding it in for years. "I am grateful that you are using your skills to keep me safe."

She tensed slightly. But he didn't know about her Sense. Not yet anyway. Hopefully not ever. She couldn't imagine what kind of implication it would have on her if someone with his kind of influence knew. She shivered, rolling out her bedroll. "I'm not certain how to arrange a watch when I'm the only one here to guard you. . . " Her voice trailed off uncertainly.

"I'll take first watch. I can wake you if anything is amiss."

Blayre nodded, chewing the inside of her cheek. "I suppose that makes the most sense. If your would-be assassin is pursuing us, we probably had a good enough head start that they won't come upon us the first half of the night."

"Well that's reassuring." Rory chuckled, rolling out his own bedroll. He sat on it, leaning his back against an enormous oak tree and pulling a piece of jerky from his pack. "The only thing," he said between chews, "About such a speedy departure . . . is that we did not have time to pack the proper provisions."

Blayre cocked an eyebrow, "The only thing, eh?"

He nodded in mock seriousness, "Yes. The only thing." He took a swig from his canteen. "Come, sit. If you're not going to sleep yet." He patted the spot next to him. Blayre looked at him, a small amount of heat rushing through her, glad of the darkness to hide the flush of her cheeks because Moon and Sun, Rorrick de Vihrea was bewitchingly handsome. And completely out of your reach.