Kingdom's Fall

Chapter 9, Part 2

Further back on the road, Siv twitched the reins and leaned over in her seat as the cart eased its way through a dip in the road. She could see Kara and Aiden up ahead, talking to one another as they rode along. She wondered what they were talking about, and if it would be worth trying to signal them to stop so she could catch up. They had barely spoken since the fight with the priests, and there were questions to be answered. Foremost among them was how much Aiden remembered about the princess. How had the priests managed to take her? Why wasn’t the Kingdom army beating the undergrowth, scouring the land to get her back?

“What are you thinking about?”A slim hand reached up to her and without thinking Siv shifted both reins to her left hand so that she could take hold of it. She glanced back at Morwen and saw that the girl’s other hand rested on top of Einar’s, anchoring him to where he walked at the side of the cart. She’s tying us together, Siv thought. She’s tied to us. Siv made to speak, and discovered that she had lost hold of what she’d been thinking about. There had been questions; things she had wanted to know. Suddenly they seemed far less important than they had before.

“I was thinking about Aiden and Kara,” she managed.

“They are different from you,” Morwen said.

“Not that different.”

“They are, you know.” Morwen’s fingers tightened around her own for a moment. “Kingdom folk have different hearts. Islanders are better. They see things differently.”

It sounded silly to hear it said in a Kingdom voice, but Siv couldn’t even smile. The girl’s voice was like a blanket, smothering her thoughts. She nodded in agreement, her right hand limp in Morwen’s, and flicked the reins again.

Aiden sat forward in the saddle, his hands resting on the pommel. Even with his weight bearing down on them, he could still feel the tremor echoing back from the tips of his fingers and up through his wrist. Kara had put a voice to the thought he’d been shying away from; the fear that he refused to face up to. What sleep he could manage was fitful, plagued by panicked dreams and long hours where he would lie awake, paralysed by his own thoughts. The memories were coming back to him. Some were clear - the memory of sword lessons, of drills, and manners, and a noble’s education - while others were hazy. He had killed, he knew. The memory of that part of him lay hidden, a dense, hulking shape that loomed ready to part the fog and drag him back to whatever life he had once led. Try as he might, he could not convince himself that he was truly innocent of the kidnap, and the warrant for his capture might not be as false as he so fervently desired. The thought that he might wake up one morning and find himself another person was terrifying - even more so to think that person might be part of the horror that they had witnessed on the faery-hill. There was sour comfort in the realisation that if the old Aiden returned, then he wouldn’t give a damn anyway.

He could feel Kara trying not to look at him. There was something about her posture, the way she sat, that instinctively told him she was watching him from the corner of her eye. Aiden wondered if she was afraid of him. He doubted it. She probably thought he was going to lose his mind, and he couldn’t really blame her. Waving the warrant in her face had been a mistake. It gives her power over you. The voice in his head was cool and detached, like a schoolmaster watching boys at play in the yard, seeing the battles being fought before they could even begin. She’s weighing up your worth. You’ve a good sword hand, but you’re delicate. And a fugitive. As they closed on the town, he resolved to keep a weather eye. If things looked bad, he would be ready to bolt. As natural a rider as Kara was, he knew he was better. She could give chase, but wouldn’t be able to stop him.

The horse and cart trundled up to where they waited. Siv was up at the front, riding on the box, her hands loose on the reins. Einar had fallen back to the side of the cart, and was stomping doggedly alongside, his head bowed slightly. In the back of the cart, Morwen was awake and sitting up with her back to Siv. She was leaning over the side towards Einar, apparently deep in conversation. As they pulled level with Aiden, Siv eased the horse to a halt. Whatever the conversation had been, it ended in that moment. The princess settled back down, her face turning away until she was showing Aiden the back of her head. For a moment, he wondered what he had done, but realised that turning to face him would have meant more effort on her part. The girl was simply too tired to worry about whether or not she caused offence.