War Prize (A Roman Britain story)

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

 

The second day was proving to be as relentless as the first. Aurelia couldn’t discern any route they could be following but the riders seemed to be confident in where they were heading. She was once again on the same horse as Kailen, his whip cord arms wrapped around her as he held the horse’s reigns, effectively caging her in. She felt claustrophobic in his embrace, desperation like a wild animal clawing at her throat.

She wasn’t sure what she had expected from him. Naiveté on her part had seen something in Kailen’s eyes, something human. It had tricked her into expecting some small kindness, some measure of humanity locked away inside of him. They had kept her alive so far, even going to a lot of trouble to keep her alive along the journey. Unconsciously, she had begun to nurse a small flicker of hope. Hope to get out of this alive, to see her parents and family again, to see Aquilla and finally be wed. To have children, watch them grow up happy and healthy.

But Kailen’s passing words that morning had wholeheartedly crushed it. She had been lured into thinking she could predict his behaviour, but she was wrong. So terribly wrong. She stared down at his arms around her, her own hands turning into clenched fists until the skin around her knuckles turned white. For some inexplicable reason, she felt deeply betrayed.

You naïve fool…

All she wanted in the world were freed hands and a long sharp knife. She would turn in the saddle and plunge the knife to the hilt in his chest, watch the pain and surprise sweep across his face as he died. She would perhaps live a second longer than him, his warriors dealing her swift retribution, but it would be worth it.

Wouldn't it?

Aurelia tried to concentrate on something, anything other than her own macabre thoughts. She watched as the landscape around them slowly changed from vast hills to flat fertile land that was used for farming and tiny settlements. As they trotted past farmsteads, people would peer out curiously from within their circular hut homes. When they established the riders to be their own kin, they would emerge and wave to them calling greetings and offering them food and drink for their passage. The riders accepted it gladly, joking and laughing with them like old friends.

Kailen kept them apart from the mingling groups and Aurelia caught the inquisitive looks thrown at them from the farmers and their families. Aurelia felt her cheeks heat in uncomfortable embarrassment and looked away.

Early afternoon found them at a small bubbling brook where the warriors stopped to let the horses drink their fill and the men eat their fill of the freshly baked flatbread they were given.

Aurelia climbed down off the horse with some difficulty and was about to find a relatively soft place in the grass to sit, when Kailen reached out and gripped her arm, guiding her to the water. “Wash and drink.” He commanded her as he crouched down and proceeded to cup handfuls of water and bathe his face and neck.

She watched him for a moment, his movement quick and careful, and she copied him, scooping the water up with her bound hands and sipping. The water was cool and fresh, her parched mouth greedy for the moisture. Once she was finished, she was given some of the bread and she sat down to eat it. It was… surprisingly enjoyable.