Burning To Cinders

Blows and Truths

His anger hit her hardest, the quiet fury of it not quite a physical blow, but a push that would keep her forever stumbling. He had silently moved from the ‘mattress’ to the other side of the tent and lain down, his head turned to face the tent wall. She had protested his movement- when it had awoken her just hours after she’d collapsed in exhaustion on him- he was still far too weak for any sort of exertion. No answer, not even a glance, and still mentally and physically drained it was almost enough to break her. Quietly weeping she’d curled back up on the mattress, her tears adding to its sodden surface and fallen back to sleep.

Cindy opened her eyes groggily, the world blurred for a few blinks. Stretching out, luxuriating in the precious moments before clarity. Cindy eased out her aching joints in the satisfaction of a restful night, stiffening immediately as her gaze locked Eric’s and memory flooded back. Still cold, still burning in contemptuous anger he didn’t look away, content to let his anger sear her. Now she could feel the stretched dry skin around her eyes, feel the faded wake of the tears down her face, tears that he’d caused. Locking her jaw, she shook off and lingering sleepiness, glaring at him with all the outrage she could muster. She had saved his life, had slaved over him, how dare he?

Any words, any accusations, would have to wait for when Cindy thought he was about to speak, the tent flap beside him was flung open and the merchant strolled in.

“Afternoon miss,” He greeted, pulling up short as his eyes narrowed in on her alone on the mattress. Swinging his head around, she could see the clear relief as he took in Eric next to him, amusement close on its heels. “Trouble in paradise?” His grin was broad and she transferred her scowl, zeroing in on his first words.

“Afternoon?” An eyebrow quirked as he took in her state.

“Slept in did we?” His mouth twitched wider as he glanced over at Eric again. “I see the danger has passed, well done,” Cindy took no pleasure in the compliment, although she saw Eric’s grudging nod of acknowledgment. Winding her bawled fists in her tattered skirts she looked back to the merchant.

“It has been days, what is to be done with us?” She demanded and Eric cut in for the first time.

“Days?” Voice hoarse from misuse, he came across quiet and she took in the sickly pallor of his skin.

“You had a fever, it took a while to break it,” She threw coolly, turning an expectant look back to the merchant, but Eric wasn’t done.

“How long is ‘a while’?” He demanded, some strength coming back to his tone as it coloured with anger. Cindy rounded on him, hot words dying on the tip of her tongue as the merchant slipped in.

“Three days. Three days of full time care, no sleep, barely any food. So you will show some respect to the woman who saved your life.” Any tension vanished abruptly, Cindy and Eric both staring open mouth at the out merchant. Just as suddenly, Eric’s face flushed beet red, embarrassment and fury in a deadly mix.

“And since when have you minded my respects?” Cindy demanded sharply, the merchant’s brow rose.

“He owes you his life, within my people it is yours to govern. He has no right,” He said simply, continuing before she could comment. “We are still deciding how to approach the swap; your Stepmother has agreed to help us,” A pang of guilt hit Cindy, she hadn’t thought of her Stepmother once… with a seconds thought the pang was gone and her eyes were narrowed.

“Of course she did,” She said flatly and the merchant laughed. “What is your name?” Cindy asked, pleased by his surprised look, replaced quickly with another laugh.

“You think I will hand over my identity to a hostage?”

“We already know what you look like, what danger is in a name?” She countered and he frowned, conceding with a nod.