Yuragwyn: Ours

---Chapter 7

₰Traugott₰

We walk around twice before going back inside. We cannot comprehend, cannot fathom what has just happened. I have hated Cyneric before, but never like this, never with such smoldering, muggy passion. I wish he would fight me like a man for Briallen's freedom, but I am powerless to make such demands. He leads me blindfolded down prison halls. He brings me my daily clothes and food like I am a child under his care. He has organized everything to humiliate and belittle me.

This, I realize, is probably his method of captivity. He does not hold me in physical chains but mental ones.

∞Kaitra∞

We thunder along the western bank of the River Yaywah, across the foaming river from the forest. I hold onto him with all my might, but my pack fights against me and drags me backwards. I cringe at the thought of wrapping my arms around Hiltraud. He is too majestic, too powerful, too regal to approach, much less embrace. He is a soldier, a man-horse, a formidable creature who should inhabit only one's dreams, not one's everyday existence. He is a staunch believer in my prophesied power and will only aide its coming to pass. I am not safe with him. He will expect much more of me than I want to give.

"Alright, Lady Kaitra, see that point where the River Rapha forks away?" Hiltraud asks me.

I nod, but then, realizing he can't see me, I muster up the courage to speak. "Yes, Hiltraud."

"We cross on the pole bridge right before that. We need to skirt the forest as much as possible until the river's bend makes a crest. Then we shall cut through. Our soldiers should be in that bulge.

"Hold on now."

I dig my nails into the backs of my palms and wince as we clop across and plunge into the mess of roots and trunks and green plants beyond. I sit up, but soon a low-hanging branch convinces me it would be easier just to lean against him. The metal of his two large swords beat up against my boots with each step, but I dare not resituate.

"Bow at the ready, arrow drawn. You are my cover."

I gulp and do as he bids. This is the last job I should be given. This was the very job Traugott had and failed at. What if I was the cause of Hiltraud's death? What could I say to Lord Cadfael?

"How long will it take us to get to the camp?" I ask quietly.

He shrugs around a branch. "A day, maybe two."

I settle back and keep my eyes trained on the forestry around me. I must focus, must keep us alive. For, even if he is the one shot, I am as good as dead in these woods.

//•••//•••///•••\\\•••\\•••\\

There is nothing to be said and no reason to speak all the rest of that first day, that night, and all of the second day as well. We wove through an endless fabric of trees and foliage until I felt we were stuck in some sort of illusion and not really going anywhere at all.

The sun has faded beyond recollection, and we slow and look for a place to rest our heads and calm our nerves. He stops so I can slide off, but the tightness in my legs from holding on and the weight of my pack pull me straight to the earth. I crawl to the small space he designates and pull the food tins out. We dare not risk a fire, between the closely overhanging leaves and the closely occupying Granzians.

I sit in silence, neither wishing he would speak nor wanting him to leave the quiet hanging there. I feel like he has so much to tell me, so much I need to know, but I don't want to know it. I don't want to know what all I will be obliged to endure for this title I have coerced myself to accept.

I sit up, shocked at myself. When did I accept it? When did I buy into their stories of me? When did I give up on my dream to return to my sleepy house in the mountains?

But, there is little reason to protest now. It makes them happy for me to comply, and as long as someone is happy, it should be worth it. Besides, convincing anyone I am not suited for this job would be a lost cause.

"Do you have a clue why I brought you, Lady Kaitra?" Hiltraud asks, fingering the hilt of one of his swords. "Why I didn't just leave you in Llyendal, safe, comfortable?"

"No, Hiltraud, none at all," I reply quietly. We make eye contact for the first time since we left Cordina.

He settles down a bit, his horse half getting comfortable in the fallen leaves. "Because you desperately needed it. You've never done this kind of thing before. You've never stuck your neck out, worried that something would happen and you would get hurt. And, consequently, you've never lived. I brought you so you could see life out of your little realm of self-centeredness and see what you mean to Yuragwyn. This is the life we have lived for as long as history has been recorded. We fight with Granziar every three or four years for a year or more. I have survived three wars already. Eventually my luck will run out. Mothers rear their children knowing they will lose one or two to a Granzian sword or arrow."

He searches my face, and we find together that there is a tear falling down it.

"Do you know your own prophesy?"

I shake my head.

"When the stand of love drips red by the hilted blade

and the ashen leaves encircle the Daughter of Yuragwyn,

she will return, and with her, prosperity."

"With you, Lady Kaitra, will return prosperity. We will live peacefully; we will cease our fighting with Granziar. This is what you mean to us: life."

I can find no words but only lie back and catch glimpses of starlight through the hundreds of feet of leaves between me and them. I feel as though here I am supposed to reach those stars, but thousands of feet of Granzian weapons line my path. How is anyone to know I won't be killed in my first skirmish?

Where do they get their bravery?

//•••//•••///•••\\\•••\\•••\\

Sleep steals my consciousness slowly, and before I even realize I am sleepy, it is morning again.

We eat and pack up. We have turned deeper into the forest now, and I only hope we will get to the Yuragwynian troops soon.

I am relieved when we stumble upon tents and familiar-looking uniforms. Soldiers scatter left and right as we thread our way to the slightly larger tent in the center. I feel self-conscious as I sway on Hiltraud's broad back, but he seems unperturbed by the shock on the faces around us. Finally, we reach the tent, and Hiltraud has me slide off. He ducks into the canvas shelter, leaving me on the outside.

The men and women look at me and then at each other, trying to recollect where they recognize me from. Realization crosses a few faces, and soon the whole place is abuzz with the news. I watch their excitement with a sad sense of nervous pity. What will become of them when they realize how incapable I am? What will they think of me?

A flurry of fabric and two warm arms envelope me. "Kaitra, my dear Kaitra! You are safe! Oh, how I worried and longed for you, my dear Kaitra!"

I hold Lady Carys to me, and for the first time in a while, I want to cry tears of joy. I have not admitted to myself how much I have missed her until this moment. Maybe, just maybe, she is actually my mother.

Lord Cadfael wraps his arms around my shoulders, and I draw love from his warmth as well. I feel a new sensation fall on me, like raindrops after years of drought. I feel loved, completely loved and adored. Uncle Rob and Aunt Adalynn loved me, yes, but not like this.

"Tell me, tell me, did you fare well? Where are the others?" Lord Cadfael begs.

I look at the milling masses and turn back shyly to him. "It might be best to explain inside."