Yuragwyn: Yours

---Chapter 12

₰Traugott₰

We are quiet, deathly quiet, as we crunch through Gavril's leaves and brush by Laurelle's new buds. Every so often I turn to spy on the girls to see how they are keeping up. Calanthe, though breathing heavily and red-faced, is pushing herself to keep moving. She reminds me so much of him, of his willingness to rise up to a challenge and to keep pushing through the pain. Briallen walks, head up high, back straight, right behind me. Her lips are pressed in a tight line and her eyes penetrate the brush before us. Why she's here I don't know, but I would never disobey Lady Carys. Besides, taking a city castle is probably easier with four people instead of three. Kaitra is still bent a bit because of the weight, but she shows no sign of stress, instead one almost of comfort. Every day she intrigues me more and more. Who is she really? The prophesied Daughter of Yuragwyn, yes, and Lord Cadfael and Lady Carys's daughter, but where has she been and why?

"I'll cut now," Briallen says, stepping past me and drawing a sword.

I oblige her and take up a stride next to Calanthe. Calanthe blushes a bit, but the color is quickly diffused among the rest of redness in her face. She inclines her head towards mine, "Did you know she was coming?"

"No," I say, surprised. "You didn't? You'd be the only one of us who would know."

Calanthe snorts, "I would be the last person she'd tell."

I say nothing. Briallen and Calanthe were never very close, but ever since he died, they had drifted further and further away from each other. I hardly see Briallen anymore; she stopped coming to the manor with Calanthe two or three years ago.

A crack beyond us in the wood draws my attention, and I am reminded that this is not just a leisurely stroll through the forest. We are fugitives, running from home to find solace with the enemy, an enemy that could stumble upon us at any moment.

"Weapon's drawn!" I hiss. "Briallen, thank you."

I skirt her and take my position in the lead. I must stay on my guard, for I now protect three of Yuragwyn's most important women, the two daughters of Honorable Urien and the Daughter of Yuragwyn, our fabled rescuer of old.

//•••//•••///•••\\\•••\\•••\\

The sun is setting in the west before I remember to call for a break. We bundle down in a deep knoll between five large firs. Calanthe's pack falls to the ground and she collapses on top of it. I see the sweat beading up on her forehead and trickling down her cheeks, and I feel a bit guilty for pushing her like this. Briallen sets her pack down carefully and sits cross legged in front of the small circle of stones Kaitra and I had picked up and placed in the very center of our nest. Both Kaitra and I lean our packs against a fir and lay back for a minute to allow our spines to decompress.

"Are we always to be that quiet?" Calanthe asks, her usual perkiness surfacing with the shedding of the weight.

I nod and pick up a bundle of dried sticks to start a small fire with. "We could be ambushed at any time. Talking would only draw attention." I say. She winces and looks around, as though Granzians would materialize out of the conifers around us.

Kaitra yawns a bit as she pulls out four hard biscuits from her pack and passes them around, "I'll take the first watch, then."

I begin to protest, but she cuts me off, "You've been on guard all day. I can't sleep yet anyway."

She massages her shoulders a bit before taking a large metal bucket out of her pack and going off in search of water.

"It's back to your left," Briallen calls without looking up.

Kaitra walks away in that direction. Calanthe looks after her for a bit. "She's so distant."

I say nothing. Calanthe only sees the stone wall, not the inner conscious frantically patching up the crumbling stones. Every moment that I get to glimpse it has captivated me. There is life, vitality, and power behind that façade, but Kaitra only lets the brightness wear down by keeping the barrier up.

Soon the water is boiled and cooled, and we refill our tins for the next day's journey. Kaitra takes her place out of the fir ring and the rest of us lie down to catch fretful snippets of sleep.

∞Kaitra∞

The stars are barely visible through the trees, and the ones I can see do not form any of the constellations I had studied so regularly at home. The moon shines down on a patch right beside me, but I sit in the dark. Feelings are raging all through me, and I don't know what to make of them. I want more than anything to be home, but I feel a certain duty to them. They believe so much about me, and I can't help but want to do something for them. I wish, though, it would be anything but this.

Truthfully, I wouldn't have come if it weren't for Traugott. I must prove to him that I am fearless, a force to be reckoned with. I want him to see me as capable, respectable. If I can make him believe that, I am well on my way to making myself believe it too.

//•••//•••///•••\\\•••\\•••\\

I hear the rustle of leaves beside me and jump to my feet, arrow notched onto the bow. I swing the weapon around and strain my eyes for any sign of an intruder. Judging from the two days of practice I had, the best I can hope to do is wing a shoulder. Maybe that would give Traugott enough time to come help me.

"Stay your weapons, Kaitra," Traugott whispers. I relax and turn to enter the circle, but he places a hand on my shoulder, "Please, wait a moment."

I sit on the ground he pats, now sitting uncomfortably in the piercing, revealing light. The night chill catches me anew, and I wrap my woolen cloak around my arms.

"It is a beautiful Laurelle's night," he begins, taking in the stars and the moonlight glinting off leaves at the edge of this clearing. Their light dances in his eyes, and something about them looks familiar to me, like I'd seen them before.

I watch a small, furry creature dart under a bush. "What is Laurelle?"

"Laurelle is a time of coolness, afterwards is Marielle, a time of warmth, Anastas, a time of colored trees, Gavril, a time of coolness similar to this one, and Amril, a time of bitter cold, which we have just fully left," Traugott explains.

"So, seasons," I say.

He nods, "If that's what you called them in the other world."

"In my world, you mean."

"What ails you, Kaitra?" He asks, not as one making conversation about your sniffle but as one delving into the sores and aches of your soul.

I search for the words, for something to explain all the torment within, but I can find only memories of him pinning me down, of the crushing feeling of helplessness. Suddenly, instead of an instructor or even companion, I see a captor. I miss home so much my heart aches. The distance between us is too small, the air is too still, the wood is too quiet.

I slowly get to my feet and slide in between the firs, leaving him alone on the outside.