Rose Thorns (The Cimmerian Cycle #3)

Chapter 14 - Part 2

Days passed and the letters continued to pass back and forth. Every letter Evrart insisted that she was still ill and that she was confined to her chambers and he would respond with more well wishes. She learnt that he was interested in many of the things she liked, drinking, hunting, riding and reading. She kept the folded up pieces of parchment neatly stacked in a pile.

She let her favourite lines ring through her head.

...My father doesn't know that I'm sending you these letters but even if he found out I would continue to write no matter what...

...You are unlike any girl I've ever met before Evrart. I was glad that I could meet you. My brother was a right wrench keeping you to himself...

His last letter had surprised Evrart with one beautiful sentence that burned across her mind.

Someday you and I will walk the streets of Dayri City together and I will show you all there is to see. And you must show me Highhollow and Wyverncastle from the way you write about it must be magnificent.

Evrart could taste the victory in her mouth. It was sweet like her favourite wine. She was certain that Aysi must be fuming in her tower. She wouldn't know that Evrart and Philip were secretly sending messages to each other or even communicating. For Evrart never left her room during the day and they were never seen together. She didn't want to think how angry her father must be.

After that letter she had sat and thought long and hard about how she could respond. It was clear he cared for her very much but it was impossible to tell if he was just being friendly or if there was depth to his emotions.

Part of her wanted there to be something more. The desire to leave her apartment and go and see him was growing stronger every day. Her cut, now a thin dark scar, held her back. Words could not describe her fear of what could happen. She would lose everything she had worked for. And if she revealed one truth she would have to tell him everything. Without the scar she had no purpose to approach him in such a manner.

The window seat had become her second home. The feather cushions were nestled around her. The sleeve of her dress hung over the ledge and fluttered in the breeze. She rested her head on her arms and squinted out across the city. Beyond the walls she thought she could see the dark blue strip across the horizon that was the ocean.

Pirella worked in the room behind, scrubbing the floor with a hard brush to a rhythm that joined the sounds of the city that wafted up to Evrart's window. She thought she could smell the freshly baked Ka'ak's from the market place in the mixture of people, livestock and mud.

She had been contemplating a reply for hours sitting by the window. Evrart did not know where to begin. She could tell him that she agreed to every word he had written to her. She wanted to travel further south if it was with him and she could show him Highhollow like she had shown Rupert.

It was as she was gazing out of the window that Evrart saw two riders approach the castle. It was not odd to see messengers arrive but Evrart could sense that something was amiss. She wondered where they had ridden from. It was probably Easterden, the fortress city to the east. The news they carried would bear news of the movements of the Windsmen or the damage they had dealt on the kingdom.

She paid them little more than a passing glance and returned her attention to the sky and sea. Times were troubled and her dwelling on it would do nothing to fix the situation at hand.

Evrart had watched Philip's family leave him behind while they left with most of their huge guard. The odd couple and Leo had left with them but the twins and Koran had remained behind. The force remaining to protect the prince was considerably large as they almost outnumbered the palace guard. Evrart remembered little of her history lessons but she knew that the darkness had made the people of Meol less frightened of invasion and that the numbers in the Royal Guard were barely enough to keep the wall watched over and the gate functioning. It was even worse in Bymerrow than in Highhollow.

Evrart could understand her father's need for the Dayrian army. The people were farmers, not warriors and it would take time and money the kingdom did not have. She did not want to think of what would happen if the Windsmen took Easterden. It would be a matter of time before they marched on Highhollow and claimed the throne of Wyverncastle. By then it would be too late to save the kingdom.

Evrart's thoughts went out to her brother who was managing the city in his father's absence. He was a few years older than Evrart and already burdened with so much responsibility. She wished that he had come for at least he would have been a friendly, if slightly disapproving, face in the crowd.

Her eyes flickered to one of the towers in which the watch fire was built and lit every night. It was the disused bell tower which would be rung in times of war when invaders were on their way and the people needed to find shelter within the walls. Or if soldiers were needed and all able bodied men had to report to be armed immediately.

Her attention was drawn by a lone figure standing at the top as he reached forward and shook the bell. It seemed all at once after the last echo of the bell that the city fell silent.