Yuragwyn: Ours

---Chapter 12

₰Traugott₰

                I am at a loss to explain the emotional tremors that shook us all in those next minutes.  Briallen’s death was a near-fatal blow to Calanthe, a sickening gut-shot to me, and a shattered heart for Lady Carys.  The sounds, sights, and smells of the battle going on around us were warped in the slowness of shock.  I no longer cared about getting out of here before we were recaptured.  Calanthe no longer cared about getting out at all. 

                Calanthe collapses at her sister’s side and into Lady Carys’s lap as tears rack her frail body.  There are no words, no gestures I can show, that could ever comfort her.  I can only stand guard over this cruelty of a funeral.  Briallen and I never saw eye to eye, but she was Enion’s sister also, and because of him I did my best to protect and provide for his little sister.  I have failed him. 

                Lord Cadfael stumbles head-long into the room, gasping, blood-encrusted sword in hand.  “Hurry!  We must depart before the reinforcements from Pan arrive!”

                I try to explain what has occurred, but the faraway blast of a trumpet brings his words to greater relevance.  We have to leave now.

                “Calanthe, we need to go,” I whisper. 

                I expected her to wail and scream and refuse to go, but she only stands, wipes her eyes, and takes one last look at her sister before following Lord Cadfael and Lady Carys out of Shajen.  I follow behind silently. 

                We fall in with the retreating troops and board the smaller commander ship in the fleet of boats waiting to take us back home.  Calanthe uses the hanging seat to rinse off in the ocean as we sail away, her salty tears becoming one with the white foam. 

∞Kaitra∞

                I lead Eglantine to the rocking chair by the fire.  She nods gratefully, and I grab a pot to boil some water for tea. 

                “What has shaken you so, Eglantine?” Hiltraud asks, standing. 

                She takes a moment to reply.  She is still torn, torn between helping us and aiding our murders.  Should I have even let her in?  I resist the urge to grab my bow from the corner. 

                “There is more hope for me in Cordina than here,” she answers vaguely. 

                I grit my teeth.  “There is more, Eglantine.”

                She shakes her head and takes the cup I hand her begrudgingly.  “That is the sum of it.  I want to leave Rite.”

                I open my mouth to refuse her, but Hiltraud holds up a hand.  “We leave at daybreak.”

                Eglantine nods, and I storm off to my bed to get a few moments of sleep before we travel.

//•••//•••///•••\\\•••\\•••\\

                We start out with the dawn, just as Hiltraud said, packs heavy-laden and hearts nearly as burdened.  We received no help from the elves here in Rite.  This trip has been for naught. 

                And, now, we bring back with us a troubled girl and the threat of assassination at any point.  I am tense as we travel, waiting for her to spring at me, calculating how long I would have to hold her before Hiltraud could come to my rescue.  She holds secrets deep inside her.  How much does she know about these killers out for my head?