Lineage of Zeal, Book One: Rosemary

Chapter Nine: Holy Order of the Silver Wolf

"My dear lady, would it be at all possible...?"

Courtney could not complete his thought, for his body screamed for him to remain silent. Upon spying a flat boulder set into the hill he and Rosemary were ascending, Courtney sat down and gasped for air as beautifully as he could manage. Momentarily forgetting his need to remain beautiful, he laid back upon the stone, letting his hair fall into the parched grass and leaves below.

"My dear Lady Rosemary," he gasped, chest heaving, "if you could just..."

But his worn words failed to reach the ears they were intended for. Rosemary stood at the crest of the hill far above where he lay, looking off toward the horizon. It took her a moment to notice the prince was not at her side, and once she did, she looked back down the hill to see his defeated form sprawled rather unbeautifully upon a stone slab.

"Really, Courtney?" Rosemary muttered to herself as she eased her way back down the hill. It was not too steep, but the dry leaves scattered about made her footing unsure. "Is this what you're reduced to after a little walk in the countryside?" Once Rosemary reached the prince, she sat on the ground next to him and prodded his leg with a booted foot. He gave no response.

"Exhaustion finally killed you then," she said very matter-of-factly. "I wasn't expecting you to last this long, you know. Nearly a week trekking non-stop day and night, and you finally quit just as the Wild Wood is in sight. It's a pity, really. I suppose the least I could do is bury you. You did, after all, give me the first good lead on my son in a long time."

"Before that, my lady, could you finish your story? I would much like to hear more about this Demitri, and how your son came to be, after all."

If Rosemary had been one to give in to surprise, she would have jumped out of her skin that very moment. Instead, she paled slightly and covered her face with a single hand. Her other hand found a good-sized stone and squeezed it until it cracked under the pressure.

"Courtney."

"Yes, my lady?"

"If you weren't half-dead already, I'd kill you this very moment."

"For what reason, my dear lady? We have traveled on foot five days now with little in the way or rest or sustenance. Had I not been on long hikes with my brother Gerard throughout my youth, I surely would have perished long ago. I suppose I shall thank him when I next see him. All I need is a moment's respite, and we shall continue on our way. In the meantime—"

"There's nothing else to tell," Rosemary interjected. The touch of color that normally graced her cheeks had returned, and she was now grinding the two halves of stone she held in hand against one another, the resulting powder collecting on the toe of her boot as a miniature mineral mountain.

"But what of—"

"I said there was no more!" Rosemary shouted, standing. But she stood too quickly for the sloped terrain and tottered on one foot, pitching forward and back. Before she could right herself or take the fall, Courtney sprang to her side and caught her. As soon as she was steady, Rosemary wrenched free from his touch.

"I didn't need—!"

"I am aware."

"Weren't you just lying there half dead?"

"I dared not allow you to fall." Courtney plopped back down on his stone. His shoulders slumped. His brow lacked sweat and his breathing was shallow and quick. Too quick.

"There isn't anything else to say. About my past." Rosemary allowed the stones she was grinding to fall from her hand and tumble down the hillside. "I found a friend in Demitri. We grew up together in the orphanage. When I was mature enough, I left in search of my parents. I didn't know if they were dead or not so there was no harm in looking. While I did so, I was, there was a demon who... and when Mikhail was born, he was stolen from me. I couldn't do anything at the time. So I began—"