∞Kaitra∞
The four days go by like any trek though spindle and plateau mountains would be expected to, with several near falls, cold nights, and a torrential rain. Eglantine avoids speaking and associating with me in general, and I have little problem with that, for the idea of addressing my would-be murderer is not a pleasant one.
Descending into Rite, my mind is filled with thoughts of baths, beds, and clean clothes. Everyone in this world seems to have falsely accused me of being outdoorsy and low-maintenance. Do they bathe this irregularly on a regular basis?
Eglantine takes a lesser path off to a left and doesn’t even give a backward glance. Hiltraud acts as though this was the plan all along, but I cannot remember such a conversation and wonder if I am comfortable with her sudden parting. With us, at least, I could watch her, but who knows what she will attempt out of Hiltraud’s covenant. And, now we have no guide, and by the look on Hiltraud’s face, he has not been here either. Where do we go in this town?
I shrug off Hiltraud’s back and we both stretch and do what little primping we can before making our way side by side into the heart of Rite. People whisper and point as we go by, and I am suddenly self-conscious in my army attire, muddy boots, and smelly pack. I had hoped for a bit of a joyous welcome or even a friendly hello, but we are met only with suspicious glances and turned backs.
“Citizens of Yuragwyn, I am Hiltraud, an aide to Lord Cadfael, and I bring before you Lady Kaitra, his daughter, the Daughter of Yuragwyn,” Hiltraud announces.
His words catch people’s attention, and they come out from their half-closed doorways and line the streets as we pass by. They fold in behind us, and soon we are leading a procession to a large building which appears to be the center of town, both geographically and socially. I feel very small among these naturally taller elves and humans, and I stay very close to Hiltraud for fear of being separated and swept away into the general, eerily quiet, crowd.
Hiltraud takes my arm, and we march up the three steps and through the opening double doors. The people file in after us, filling up the open space. A small section in the front of the room is left for us, and we make our way there and stand before the assemblage.
“My fellow countrymen, I bring before you a plea from Cordina. We are at war with Granziar, as I am sure you all know. We ask for your help and service, for our enlisted numbers are too few to throw off our enemies. We have a great hope, though. Lady Kaitra, Lord Cadfael’s daughter, has returned to us from faraway lands and has been confirmed as the fulfillment to the prophesy of old, the Daughter of Yuragwyn. Rally behind her. She will lead us on to victory and prosperity.”
I nod, but inside I am quaking. I am to lead this army? I have hardly managed to practice with my bow, much less perfected the art enough to survive a full-fledged battle and lead people to victory. Can’t I be a mere figurehead, locked away safely in Cordina, or even in the castle?
“What need is there to continuously drive out these Granzians? Can’t we simply live in peace and harmony?” An elvish man calls from the middle of the group.
“We are merely defending ourselves, good sir. They invaded our country.”
“Why not draw up a treaty and allow free commerce? For what they want are our goods. If we were willing to share them, we might not be attacked,” a woman answers.
“Why should we get involved? Is it not your fight?” Another man asks.
“It is the battle of all Yuragwyn,” Hiltraud responds. “Aid your brothers, your fellow-countrymen. We must unite.”
A general ripple of discontent tiptoes through the gathered, and I shift uncomfortably. Why wouldn’t Agleton be just as willing to fight as those in Bishat, the area surrounding Cordina, or Pina, the lands surrounding Lax?
Hiltraud too seems a bit ruffled by the less than exuberant response to his call to arms. His eyes, usually a stormy grey, are darkened with disappointment. His tail flicks nervously as he tries to reason with the crowd.
Altogether they seem simply uninterested in our pleas. Quite possibly very few of them have ever ventured across the mountain range into the rest of the country. This appears to be Hiltraud’s first time in Rite. How much do the two sides of these granite and limestone sentinels know about each other?
“Let the Daughter speak!” A voice cries from the back of the room.
Heads nod and voices shush as people turn to face me. My throat parches immediately. What am I to say?
Hiltraud bows his head in deference to me, and I know I cannot get out of this request.
“People of Yuragwyn, I have been away many years and know little of this country. I need assistance, backing, and comrades. I have been to Granziar, locked in a dungeon there, and still three of my friends linger in those belching black depths. I fear for the rest of you, that you will be locked up as I was. Let us not allow such a thing to happen to us! Rally behind me, behind our country, and we will show Granziar we intend to have an equal footing with them and will not be subversive. Then we shall extend a hand of trade.”
I am met with an eerie silence. They share long looks with each other as they digest what I have asked. Did I say something wrong?
“Allow us a day to think on it, Lady Kaitra,” An unusually tall elf says. “We shall answer you here tomorrow.”
Hiltraud touches my shoulder and we walk out of the building and to a house indicated by a kindly woman at the entrance. Here I set down my pack and rummage through it for a fresh change of clothes. All I want is a hot shower and a good meal.
“Lady Kaitra,” Hiltraud says lowly. “Watch yourself. Eglantine is no longer under my bidding.”
I nod once.
He returns the friendly gesture, “You did well today, Lady Kaitra. They are heavily considering your request. It is an honor to ride under you.”
I give him a small smile, “Thank you Hiltraud. And please, when the occasion is not formal, call me Kaitra. I believe you shall not be riding under me near as much as beside me.”
He laughs a bit, “I told Traugott something similar before you left.”
“Do you think Lord Cadfael and Lady Carys have reached them by now? It has been over two weeks since they parted from us in Quieve.”
“They are nearing them, surely. Do not fear, Kaitra, for I am certain they shall bring your dear friends home safely.”
I nod again and duck out before he can see the faltering in my eyes. No one, not even I, understands my reasons for bringing them home. Calanthe’s company I enjoy, yes, but Traugott and Briallen are more thorns in my side than flowers in my vase. I pleaded their aide only to get their lives off my conscious and fulfill a promise thrown upon me.
“There you are,” a small, devious voice says.
I stop and turn the corner to face Eglantine again. Her face holds little emotion, and her arms hold no weapon. She only wraps her right arm around her stomach and gazes at me.
“I’ll take you to the baths,” she offers. Before I can answer, she has already retreated from where she came, and her receding figure almost compels me to follow her.
I grasp my small bundle of clothes and soaps tightly as we walk. Should I trust this girl? She doesn’t even seem capable of taking my life here, in the daylight, but I never thought I was capable of killing people either. What lurks under the surface of her vacant expression?
We enter a small, square building on the edge of town. Bathtubs line one wall, and sinks and mirrors line the other, just as in Lord Cadfael and Lady Carys’s manor. I set my stuff on the small stand by the first tub and begin running the water. Eglantine disappears into a room beyond.
I bathe quickly, grimacing at the mess of scars under my arms from my burns. They no longer ache, but I cannot raise my arms quite as far above my head as I used to. At least they are not infected.
I dry off and slip into a shift. Hiltraud had me pack a dress before we left, and the soft fabric appeals to me much more than the army uniforms. It is a deep grey-blue, with corseted sleeves and a synced bodice, perfect in this cooler climate. I feel much more like a daughter in such a gown, for a bow does not sit well with me.
“Here,” Eglantine holds out a small, twisted circlet of bronze.
I take it gingerly. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
“Well-bred women in our community wear them,” she says wryly. I don’t need to look up to know she doesn’t have one.
I must ask. “Are you going to try to kill me again?”
She laughs a bit, “No, I am not the one you should worry about anymore.”
“So there is someone else?”
“Most probably,” she answers vaguely. Without allowing me a moment to reply, she turns around and leads the way back to my temporary home.