Yuragwyn: Ours

---Chapter 24

                I think about her words as we thunder across the grass and leap, wings fully extended, into the cloudy skies.  “Perhaps I do,” I reply, for I cannot be sure if the calm that comes from the openness is truly a love for Yuragwyn or a comfort from the outdoors I explored so often the mountains. 

                “You still miss the other world, do you not?” Calanthe asks.  “I can hear the faraway look in your eyes, the one that comes when you remember it.  You have told me little of that place.”

                I grit my teeth at the memory of Saturday breakfasts with Rob and Adalynn and trips down to my favorite place, the aquarium, and bite back the tears.  I wish I could fall into their arms again and hear them whisper how much they love me.  I want them with me.  So many feelings, but so few words can describe them, because childhood memories are shapes and emotions, not pictures and conversations. 

                “There is little I can tell,” I say.  I can feel myself clamming up on the inside, but the newborn arms of courage in me are too frail to pry me open again. 

                Calanthe seems to sense this change in me and says little else, even as we start out over the pyre mountains and feel a few raindrops.  As we go, Maxen spots a small, snaking line of people, centaurs, and animals, on the steep path far below.  He cautions us to steer far to the left, for being shot down over such precipitous cliffs would surely end our lives.  I think of Traugott, always keeping me from danger and prodding me to stay safe, and shift uncomfortably. To forgive him would be to admit months of wrong treatment, to humiliate myself and to accept defeat in this battle of wills.

₰Traugott₰

                “My lord!” A centaur cries out.  “See, up to our left!” 

                “Are they scouts?” A women gasps, putting an arrow to the string. 

                I squint my eyes and stare up at the two- no, three- figures on the two beasts.  Something about them is sickeningly familiar, and I raise a hand.  “Hold your bow, soldier.”

                “Traugott,” Lord Cadfael says lowly, offended at my usurp of his command. 

                I make move to apologize, but even as my mouth forms the first syllable a fiery dread lights the ground under my sore feet.  The two riding together both have long hair, the one behind, blacker than the new moon, and the one in front, reddish-brown and catching the sun.  Even at such a great height, I cannot be mistaken as to their identities. 

                “Kaitra!”  I scream at the sky.

                The whole party stops and stares, first at the sky, then at me, and I can feel their questions and opinions. 

                “Is that my daughter?” Lady Carys asks, sliding off her pegasus at my side. 

                I nod. “Yours and Honorable Urien’s also.  Who accompanies them, though, I know not.” 

                I know, as Lord Cadfael’s aide, I am required to stay by his side, to defend him, to obey him, but there in the skies, flying now to the far limits of my sight, are the daughter of a broken and bitter man and the daughter of a blistered and brittle country, women I have vowed to protect.  They soar off to the enemy and to death, for they are known by every enemy and a high price lies on each of their lives.  Moments are precious, and we move too slowly to hope to overtake them or even rescue them. 

                Without considering the idea further, I snatch the reigns of my pegasus and mount even as I urge it forward.  I must go after them, must protect the heart and soul of my country. 

                “Traugott!” Lord Cadfael bellows, enraged now by my disobedience.  “Traugott!  Return to my side!”

                But I can’t go back.  Kaitra needs me.

                I need her.

∞Kaitra∞

                As the hours pass the mountains do not jump as high to snap at our heels and instead sink farther and farther down until they have fairly disappeared into the oscillating valley and then become completely still.  We fly lower, a few feet above the bare land, harvested for the winter and now barren, until we come to the edge of a small dirt path.  There we touch down, and once Maxen studies the road and the landscape on either side for a while, we take to the right.  We walk slowly at first, massaging our cramps and pumping our legs up and down to remind our heart of our lower extremities, but soon we pick up the pace in hopes of beating the sun to bed. 

                “Kaitra,” Calanthe whispers, suddenly pale.  “We brought no weapons.”

                “We decided not to, remember?” I say, now furtively searching the sparse trees for any sign of a threat.  “We come in peace.”

                Maxen lifts the very corner of his shirt, and a sea-green studded hilt peeks out from below the fabric.  “We do, but your parents would never forgive me if I let you fall into plotting hands, not to mention Traugott.”

                Calanthe’s cheeks flush rose, but mine burn scarlet.  The dagger is mine, the one that brought me here, the one that could take me back.  I search the foliage around me for a tree with the familiar leaves and grind with guilt all the while.  I can’t leave, not now.  It would be wrong of me to skip out on Calanthe a second time, especially after what she endured the last time I left. 

                A little voice in the back of my mind tries to rationalize my escape plan.  You’re the Daughter of Yuragwyn.  If you get caught, everything is over anyway. 

                “Kaitra, are you alright?” Calanthe asks. 

                I swallow my words and smile, “It’s nothing.”

                She makes move to answer, but I point ahead of us, towards the outliers of homes and the widening path.  My throat runs dry, and my feet want to run away. 

                 “Rite.” She says, taking in the wonder of the quaint town for the first time. 

                We duck off to the right, where thick brush blocks the view from both the road and town and take turns changing into our more regal attire.  I slip the large folds over my head and shiver in relief.  The soft fabric lays against my chafed arms gently, and suddenly I feel much more like a lady.  I smooth the white silk and trace the royal blue design through the bodice and upper skirt.  Lady Carys’s smiling face comes to mind, and I wish she were here.  She would know what to say. 

                All dressed, with the dirt of the road erased, we gather ourselves out on the - thankfully deserted- path again. 

            Maxen sets a hand on each of our shoulders.  “Remember what we spoke of.”  Then, turning toward the town, he visibly gathers his wits, rolls back his shoulders, and leads the way.

A/N- Kaitra's photo