Here you'll find
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Ravens, Owls and a nightingale
13. Courage & PerseveranceSomething tickled her nose with disgusting persistence, no matter how tightly Benella tried to crunch her eyes shut, and at last she swatted at the offender. When her hand hit against something big and rough and moving, she woke up with a horrified gasp and found herself staring into a dry, hairy spike of hay that was drooping right above her face. She pushed herself up on an elbow and looked around. No, this definitely wasn't any one of the luxurious rooms of Moydherr. Nor was this the room in which she could still remember living in Deleon. This was a barn, low and half-collapsed, with walls made of loosely stacked poles that let the sun shine through. The light formed a bright stripe pattern on the uneven earth floor, and on the small stack of year-old hay that they had scraped together to provide at least an illusion of softness to rest on. Benella sighed and sat up. Her whole body was aching, and she gingerly touched her shoes. Sticks had been pushed into the ground so that the shoes might have a better chance of drying, and to her surprise her pair even felt nearly dry. It had rained at some point during the night, but luckily the bark-laid roof of the barn was still moderately tight and had kept the water outside. Now the sun was rising, which meant that they'd need to get going once more. By all accounts they couldn't be very far from Deleon, even though Benella wasn't altogether sure of how long they'd been afoot. They had snatched a few hours of sleep sometimes during the brightest day, sometimes in the darkest hours of night, and she had lost count of the days. The horses had served them well during that first night, but they also were a problem: it was next to impossible to hide them during the day, and thus they had soon been discarded. Unfortunately they hadn't been too keen to part with people with whom they had had such an easy job, and had just stared at the silly humans trying to shoo them away. For a good while afterwards, Benella had kept glancing over her shoulder, half fearing that she'd see the animals patiently trudging after them. After that they had walked, and walked, and walked some more. Karos had made them wade long distances in brooks and ditches where the water would hide the tracks, but that trick was a double-edged sword because then their feet were thoroughly soaked, wet, and cold. And climbing once more onto dry land had left such a muddy trail that they'd been forced to use the same slippery, well-trodden slopes as the cattle. But luck had been on their side no one had yet spotted them, even though a couple of times they had actually seen suspicious-looking riders in the distance. Of course the men of Moydherr knew that the runaways were bound to head towards Deleon, but their exact route had been more difficult to pin down. On the other hand, maybe it wasn't luck alone... Benella looked at the big-boned young man curled up next to her. Karos had kept his word, and by now she was ready to trust him absolutely. He had done his best to find the most comfortable places for them to rest, offered his cloak to serve as a blanket when there had been nothing but the ground to sleep on, and given the few pieces of bread from his pocket for the girls to eat. This early in the spring the barely sowed fields yielded nothing edible, and so he had gone without even the few crumbs of food that Benella and Bailenn had got. Her stomach felt tight and achy for hunger, and for the less than fresh water they'd had to survive on. Karos was bigger than the two of them put together; he had to be starving. Benella frowned and bent closer to look at him. Even in sleep, Karos' face was tight and she could see a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. Was he ill? The girls had got their share of wet and discomfort, but by some miracle they both were still in good enough health, not even sneezing too much. What about Karos, whose thick boots dried even more slowly than the girls' lighter ones? Benella shook the young man slightly, then snatched her hand hastily away when he woke up with a start and stared at her for a moment with unseeing eyes. "Sorry," she whispered. "Didn't mean to startle you." Karos' dark eyes focused and he let out a deep breath. "Miss Benella..." "Are you all right, Karos?" Benella asked anxiously. "Are you cold?" "I'm all right," he mumbled and pushed himself up, then shuddered and rubbed his face. "Just tired." She tentatively put a hand on his shoulder, and there was no mistaking the gasp of pain that smote him stiff. "Isn't there anything I could do about your shoulder?" "I don't think so." Karos made to get up, but Benella grabbed his arm with stubbornness born from desperation. So far she'd only watched him, but now the alarm signs were getting more worrisome just as they should be approaching their destination! And for once there was enough light, and she was awake enough, to perhaps do something to help? "You are in pain," she insisted. "Wounds should be cleaned, shouldn't they? You're the one they call Ashgan, back in Deleon, so you said! Surely you can tell me what to do?" "Perhaps, but I don't think you can do it, Miss Benella," Karos grunted and sat heavily down once more. "I can promise it's not a pretty sight." Benella pressed her lips together and glared at him. That she couldn't perhaps do something that was necessary? Hadn't she already pulled her weight along the journey riding bareback for hours, keeping Bailenn's whining at tolerable levels, and generally doing everything he'd told her to? "Just try me! I don't think you can walk on much longer in that condition!" Astonishingly, after just one measuring glance from under those dark eyebrows, Karos gave in and began to open his jacket. Benella swallowed as she saw the ugly tear in his shirt, soiled all around with dark brown and something lighter, and she had to close her eyes not to throw up when she realized that she had to actually touch it. The cloth had stuck to the wound underneath, and it required patient persuading and several splashes of water before it came loose so that Karos could pull the shirt off. Underneath it, the actual wound wasn't very long or deep, but thanks to the chafing cloth and lack of treatment, it was red and swollen and oozed some foul-smelling pus. The world spun in front of Benella's eyes, and it took several deep breaths before she managed to compose herself enough to open them once more. She took the removed shirt, moistened a relatively clean patch of its sleeve with water, and began to dab the angry-looking wound with it. Karos was breathing hard and gritting his teeth, and Benella decided that it was definitely best to concentrate on the interesting way in which the muscles on his back and shoulders rippled in an effort not to flinch as she touched him. That way she could still see just enough of the wound in the corner of her eye, without actually having to look at it. "Don't you have anything to put to it?" she inquired, trying to sound unaffected. "No," Karos admitted grudgingly. "I was a fool and didn't keep my pouch on me at all times... of course they got me just when I was without it, and I dared not go back to fetch it. Use the shirt to bandage it somehow, I can't get it back on anyway." Thank goodness, Bailenn slept like a log throughout the operation, and only woke up after Benella had managed to wrap the shirt around Karos' upper body and even fasten it satisfactorily. She was helping him into the coat once more when the younger girl opened her round eyes and blinked owlishly a few times, then worked up a proper pout. "I'm hungry," she said petulantly. "So am I," Benella snapped, "and so is Karos, but that can't be helped now. Get up and drink some water, we must go on." "Aren't we home soon?" Bailenn pulled her badly matted braid over her shoulder and examined it sadly. "Are those bad men still looking for us?" "They might be," Karos said. "And nobody must see us, because if the bad men venture this far looking for us, they just might harm people who have helped us." "But nobody has helped us!" Bailenn insisted. "Oh, just forget about it!" Benella crawled to the doorway and peeked out. "No one in sight... come!" They emerged from their low-to-ground shelter and walked on. The sun was shining brightly, a little too brightly for their tired eyes, and they gladly kept to the shadows of bushes and small thickets scattered among stretches of fields. Karos kept rubbing his head, and his eyes were bloodshot. He probably had a headache, Benella thought, remembering the times when she'd been ill with the fever. She decided to stay close to him, just in case. They saw numerous cows and sheep greedily grazing on the new grass growing between the trees, then stopped abruptly when they spotted a large but bony carthorse that had been tied to a pole stuck to the ground. There wasn't anybody in sight. "What's that doing there?" Bailenn inquired. "It's been left here to graze," Karos grunted. "There's a house nearby, it must be their horse. Come, we'll borrow it." The big horse seemed slightly miffed to leave the nice, fresh growth of grass sprouting all around it, but waited patiently as the odd trio somehow scrambled onto its back and kicked its bony sides to get it going. It lumbered on, each leisurely but long stride carrying them onwards through the forest that seemed to be sloping slightly upwards. Bailenn was properly awake for once, she held with both hands to the horse's mane and looked around pointing at the birds that kept scooting from bush to bush, busily building their nests. Benella held her sister in place, but she was unpleasantly aware of Karos who sat in the rear and seemed to be leaning more heavily against her back at every step the horse took. All of a sudden they saw something blue through the trees, and Bailenn pointed ahead. "Look! There's Deleon!" True enough, they had reached the summit of the ridge. Benella twisted around to look at Karos and shook his arm gently. "Karos, can you see it? We're almost there!" The man shivered and raised his head. "Yes... must keep going." He was breathing heavily, and Benella bit her lip as she realized what the problem was: his fever was going up. They couldn't lose another moment! Quickly she pulled his arms more tightly around her own waist and took the reins. "Hold on to me, Karos. I can't get you up if you fall..." She spurred the horse on and steered it straight towards the castle that loomed in the distance like a beacon. Much later in the afternoon, the people of Deleon Village could hardly believe their senses when they heard the clatter of heavy hooves on the dirt road and raised their eyes to look. A few of them recognized the horse that was walking with surprising briskness towards them, but they were more used to seeing it pulling a big cart. Now there was no trace of the cart; instead they saw a large lump on its back, and upon closer inspection the lump seemed to consist of no less than three people. Intrigued and alarmed, the villagers inched closer. "It's Ashgan," somebody said in consternation. "What's wrong with him?" "Who are those two boys?" asked another, but was interrupted by a very feminine voice shouting to them with great authority. "Run to the castle! Tell my father that we are soon there, and that one of us needs the Wizard. Quick now!" A young lad sprinted towards the castle, and several people ran to the big horse but the taller of the two girls yes, girls, as they could now see, albeit dressed in a most peculiar fashion and profoundly dirty shook her head vigorously. "No, don't touch him, we must get him to the Wizard!" A lanky, bearded man grabbed the horse's bridle and started pulling the animal after him towards the castle. Benella squeezed Karos' arms with her own and let go of the rains, almost dizzy with gratitude. The castle walls got closer and closer, they rose like upright cliffs above them, and when she finally heard the clatter of hooves on the paved ground underneath the portcullis, a sob escaped through her throat. We made it! As soon as they reached the courtyard, a whirlpool of people surrounded them and a big pair of hands reached up to pull Bailenn down. Benella blinked a few times, then persuaded her right leg to move enough so that she could lift it over the horse's back and slide down straight into a hug. She felt strong arms around her and hiccuped with laughter and tears. "My girls, my darling girls..." Yes, it was their father who had swept them into this hug and was holding them close, disbelief ringing in his gruff voice. "Benella, Bailenn, my own daughters!" The girls hung on to him with both hands and he pulled back enough to squint down at them. "What you look like... how in the name of all gods is this possible?" Benella wiggled around just in time to see how at least three men pulled their champion down from the disgruntled-looking carthorse. Karos swayed badly on his feet, barely able to stand upright, and yet he tried to push the helpers away until a grim, grayed man stepped next to him and simply wound an arm around his waist. Benella recognized the Wizard immediately. "He's wounded left shoulder!" she shouted, and the Wizard turned to nod in understanding. "And he's got fever too... it looks bad, please take good care of him!" "He took us home, Dad," Bailenn supplied from somewhere inside her father's embrace. "It was scary." "I'll tell you everything later, father," Benella put in. "They tried to kill him, and it was our fault because we exposed him..." Lord Rhodan straightened, one arm around each of his daughters, and looked around. "A hot bath for the daughters of Deleon who have been rescued!" his voice boomed over the courtyard. "And you, Wizard, take good care of that young man." "I will, my Lord," the Wizard grunted, supporting said young man who leaned heavily against him. The uproar in Deleon Castle went on until late in the night. Servants were running back and forth, whipped into order by a chatelaine who commanded them around like a true captain of troops. The bathhouse was quickly tidied for the young ladies. Hot water was carried up into the Ghost Tower. Beds were made, food was prepared and served, and maids were busy making Lord Rhodan's daughters presentable once more. One surprising problem soon surfaced: most of the girls' clothes were still in Moydherr, and much of what had been left in Deleon two years earlier was now too tight and short for them. The maids, feverishly digging into the late Lady Berissa's belongings, finally managed to find enough garments that could be tied and gathered together with belts and sashes so that their wearers could at least hope to walk without stumbling. Schean sat by the large fireplace, lute in his lap, and looked at Lord Rhodan. The big man was beaming with satisfaction, watching in incredulous relief his daughters who were sitting next to him and nibbling on the delicacies brought to them. After a few days' fast their stomachs had soon announced that they'd reached the upper limit of what they could possibly eat, but the food in front of them still proved too tempting. And Bengor was there too, a tremendous delight to his sisters despite his earlier illness, he had grown so much during their absence, and just look how strong and handsome he was now! The boy had been improving daily, and had insisted on joining the rest of his family to hear about the girls' great adventure that they were eagerly recounting to such an attentive audience. Benella did most of the telling, while Bailenn supplied some particularly juicy details and was extremely disappointed when she couldn't add any extra gore to her sister's description of what the wound on Karos' shoulder had looked like. Bengor was triumphant. "See, father didn't I tell you that Karos is no traitor? He loves Deleon, that's all." Schean could see that this topic didn't please the Lord at all. Ever since getting the news from Moydherr, Lord Rhodan had been murky as a thundercloud, roiling with frustration at his inability to think of a plan for getting his daughters safely away from his soon-to-be enemy. And now his bastard son had brought them back the same goddamn bastard son of whose existence he had been totally unaware still a couple of weeks back, and who had now saved the lives of all of his other children! Despite those heroics the minstrel could understand the big man's suspicion only too well. Ambitious and ruthless bastard sons had played a major role in the fates of whole castles before, and nobody could really blame Lord Rhodan for being protective of his legitimate children's safety... except the legitimate children themselves. All three were at the moment trying to outdo each other in praising Karos-Daleot, even Bailenn who still hadn't completely forgiven Karos the gag he'd made her wear during their escape from Moydherr Castle. The minstrel looked at the two girls. They were clean once more, thoroughly combed and scrubbed, and hardly seemed worse for wear, which said a lot about the diligence of the castle's maids, not to mention the girls themselves. Schean kept looking especially at Lady Benella. She seemed to be bubbling with energy, telling to her father anything and everything she could about the troops gathered in Moydherr, although she was sure that 'Karos can tell you more when he's better, Father'. Schean sighed and embarked on another flowing ballad. Karos-Daleot indeed... the minstrel hoped very much that he'd some day find out exactly why the enigmatic Ashgan had followed him to the enemy castle. | ||