Yuragwyn: Ours

---Chapter 3

₰Traugott₰

We drive all night and partway through the next glorious morning. Finally, the jolting and squealing wheels come to a rather rough halt. They pull us out of the little cart. I stretch against the now-familiar stiffness in my joints before they lead us into the heart of the fortress in Shajen.

Shajen is a small town, sparsely populated, with few comforts inside its gates. Only a couple dozen buildings skirt the fortress wall. They are stone, with thick doors and no gardens or trees to compliment them. These buildings have been in the thick of attack many times as rebels or brave Yuragwynian forces have tried to take the stronghold, and they bear the burn marks and dents of repeated combat. The people who live here all work in the fortress, leaving no outer economy. Shajen, truly, is not a town at all but only this fortress with the surrounding sleeping quarters for its civilian task-holders.

The guards hold rough hands over our eyes as the three solid iron gates are unlocked from the inside, the only way possible. The grating squeals and jars of metal hurt my ears, but finally the gates give way. They prod us inside with knives. Here they give us true blindfolds and lead us through endlessly complicated halls. I hear stumbles a few times and bite my lip. How hard are they pushing the girls? My powerlessness frustrates me again.

"Here we are," a voice says from behind me. My blindfold falls from my face, and I blink a bit before my eyes adjust to the brightness. A small room, with two beds, three chairs, a table, and a small stack of books, lit by shafts from the skylight above, greets me. Is this really it? This is more of a home than most of the little houses outside the wall could be. Why are they doing this?

Cyneric stands next to me, and I recoil. I have to repress the urge to knock him down. I seethe with hatred, but the knife in my back warns me not to waste my life on revenge. Dying now would be the worst scenario I could think of if Calanthe and Briallen are to have any hope of getting out of here alive.

"You'll stay here. Food and a fresh outfit will come daily. We shall come get you when Yuragwyn surrenders." He straightens, glares at me, and orders his men to follow him out. We are left alone in the space.

There is trickery here, somewhere.

∞Kaitra∞

We eat dinner together quietly, and I go to bed without another word. My head aches with all the emotions that rip and tear little pieces of my walls away. I just want to stay here and forget all that responsibility. My burns are healing much quicker than they were there, but they still ache and sting when I raise my arms high above my head. It's dangerous there, and I should really stay out of their dispute. There's nothing I can do anyway. I don't have the strength to fight; I would die in minutes.

But, people here have barely noticed that I left, and in Yuragwyn I was loved and looked after and missed. Besides, if Lord Cadfael and Lady Carys are actually my parents, I suppose I owe them an apology, even if they sent me to their enemies'— possibly even conquerors, by now— capital. My forehead aches a bit for Lady Carys's gentle lips upon it, and suddenly I miss her more than anything.

Maybe Uncle Rob and Aunt Adalynn will come with me.

//•••//•••///•••\\\•••\\•••\\

My eyes fly open suddenly with the sound of sobs ringing in my ears. Light trickles through the cracks between my curtains and onto my face. Are they still being held in those dark closets? Have they been hurt?

I can't stand it anymore. I must go, for my own sanity.

I crawl out of bed and to my closet. The dress I wore on the day I came back hangs in front, freshly washed and pressed, and tears spring to my eyes as I realize that Uncle Rob and Aunt Adalynn expected me to leave all this time. I don't want to go; I want to stay here and be comfortable. I slip the dress over my head and tie the overcoat, the Granziar fashion, around my shoulders. The clothes itch, and I feel like a traitor dressed in the enemy's colors.

Are they my enemies now? When did I decide not to be neutral? My head spins with the back and forth: first staying here, then going there; first hating Yuragwyn, then calling its enemies my own.

"Aunt Adalynn?" I ask, coming into the well-lit living room. She, after taking in my outfit, rushes towards me and wraps me up in her arms. I hug her tight, tighter, until my arms can't take the strain anymore. "Please come with me. Come see your sister, your son."

"We can't Kaitra. I'm sorry. We are tied here, to this land. The dagger was not meant for us but for you. I love you. Give my love to my sister and her husband."

"No, you have to come!" I beg.

Uncle Rob comes and holds me close, "I love you too."

Tears flow again. Why won't they come with me? Do they even care about their own country? Is there something in Yuragwyn they are hiding from?

I pull away from them and return to my room for the box and the dagger. It sits on my dresser serenely, as if it always knew I would come back for it. The key and necklace I tie around my neck, fingering the chain. I remember when they gave me this chain: I was just a little girl then. So Aunt Adalynn and Uncle Rob knew then too? Why would they have waited all these years?

But would I ever have tried the dagger if I knew what it would do and what it would force me to leave behind? I clench my fist. My head feels like a pressure cooker full of emotions. I cannot stay here anymore—the only way to relieve this pressure is to go back and clear my conscience. I push through the back door out into the already warm summer morning. I cannot get Yuragwyn out of my mind, and I must go before my resolve crumbles.

My tree looms high on the mountain crest, watching over the valley below, with the little rivulet flowing down between the rolling hills. I fall at its base and cry. This may be the last time I will lean against this wise trunk. Of all these trees, this one knows the most about this world and the other. I think it always knew, in the way only trees can know, that it would bear me to my destiny.

I wish it wouldn't.

But I can't bear to go back and be unnoticed by this world, always remembering the one that begged for my return. When I can cry no more, I draw the dagger and the sheath. As the leaves swirl around me yet again, I look towards my little house and my mountain for the last time.

₰Traugott₰

We twiddle our thumbs for the rest of the day, always on guard for an arrow or a blade to slip through the door and finish us off. The sun recedes slowly from the skylight, and soon we are left in darkness.

We feel our way to the two beds and collapse onto them. A sigh of relief escapes Calanthe's lips. This is the first time we have been able to lie down and stretch since our imprisonment in Pon.

Sleep fails me. The stars peer down at me from the heavens, but they are not the same ones I have often studied on the plains in Quieve or on the roof of Llyendal. We are trapped in this room, together, yes, but isolated from the entirety of the outside world. I don't want to stay here for the rest of my life, but our freedom would be bought at the price of our freedom.

Where is Kaitra? My thoughts wander back to that moment when she left. I felt as though a piece of me left with her. It is a silly thought really—if I were the only one in Granziar's clutches I doubt she would lose a minute's sleep over leaving me forever. Guilt wells up in me. Why do I think of her so harshly, so negatively? I pull my pillow over my head as if it would block out the back and forth. I don't know what to think of her. She is fire; she is ice. She is compassionate; she is condemning. She is our Daughter; she is gone.

Whatever she is, she is our only hope.