| |
Brodwyn pulled at the collar of his coat. He was tired of the costume and of his time standing in rooms talking and trying to remain calm. He wanted to ride out and feel the air around his face and throw a punch or two at someone in the yard. But he put his shoulders back, tried to look like the calm advisor he was not and headed for the Temple.
Another strange idea of the Brother’s, but as the early morning sun began to turn the sandstone walls orange, he moved across the quiet courtyard and through the Temple doors. His footsteps echoed around the quiet, grand space and he looked around the high walls. The giant figures of the gods smiled down on him in the orange-pink light that filtered through the high, round windows. He breathed in the cool air filled with the scent of candles and stone, and stopped mid-step.
The space was not as empty as he had thought. A woman leant over the feet of the gods, whispering. He froze as her slender figure moved quickly to the feet of Water and, kissing them, she looked up into her face, her lips moving rapidly, but from his distance he could not hear the words. Her hands moved swiftly over the feet of Earth and then she moved to Air, kissed her feet and smiled into her face. She stopped at Fire, her hands holding his feet firm. He could imagine the cold stone against her soft palms.
She stood still for so long, and then she bent and kissed his feet without looking up into his face. She moved back to the twin gods, where she dropped to her knees before them. She stayed still for so long he was unsure what to do. He breathed deeply and knelt beside her. Trying not to focus on the smooth skin of her neck, he stared down at his own hands. She remained unmoving.
After some time, he was able to focus on the gods before him and the reason he had come, and he knew it was nearly time to return to his father. He stood slowly and ran his hands over the smooth stone. He kissed Kion then Kira, Kira then Kion.
He heard the quiet rustle of her skirts as she stood behind him, and his heart stopped as she winced slightly when she stepped forward. He stood back to allow her to kiss the feet, Kira then Kion, Kion then Kira. When she looked up into their faces and smiled, his whole world stopped.
She turned towards him and then grimaced again, and he held out his hand as she leant into the stone platform on which the gods stood. She clutched his hand and breathed in slowly, closing her eyes to the pain, and when she opened them, she tried to smile and he had trouble breathing.
“I fear I have knelt too long,” she said.
“Let me help you,” he said. “Do you wish to walk or sit?”
“Walk,” she murmured, but he wasn’t sure it was the right answer.
She allowed him to lead her towards the door as she leant on him quite heavily.
“I worry for the leg, Meg,” he said softly. “Should I fetch the Brother or a nurse?”
She shook her head. “I am strong,” she said softly, more to herself than him. “It will heal. Brent assured me I would not lose it, and I have not.” She smiled up at him. “Yet I should not kneel upon it.”
“I am sure the gods would understand,” he said.
She looked away from him then. “They may. It may be that I kneel more for myself than them, but kneel I must.”
She shook her head and drew in a large breath. “I fear I rely too much upon you, sir,” she said as they entered the sunlight of the courtyard. He looked up to see Commander Brent walking fast towards them, and he held her closer.
“Your Highness,” the man said, his face full of concern. “Tell me you did not kneel upon the cold floor.”
“The gods required it,” she said.
He shook his head. “I thank you, my lord, for watching over our princess. I am sure I can accompany her back from here.”
“I am fine,” she muttered, Brodwyn thought with some frustration. “I am able to walk to my rooms.” And she released her hold and stumbled. Brodwyn was quick to wrap an arm around her waist.
“I may continue my walk in that direction,” he said.
She nodded but was silent, and the commander stepped back to allow them past.
As they entered the rooms, the maid rushed forward. “Princess Meg,” she said. “What have you done?”
Meg waved her off and sat slowly in a chair, wincing again. She tried to get up again and then sat back, her hand over her mouth and her eyes closed. Brodwyn itched to take her into his arms, but he wasn’t sure what she would do.
“Fetch a nurse,” he said to the maid.
“No,” Meg said, her eyes still closed. “No nurse.”
“Princess Kellin?” the maid ventured, but Meg shook her head.
“She will worry, and I cannot have her worry.”
“I worry, Your Highness,” the girl implored.
Meg waved her hand to dismiss the girl.
“Ducks,” Brodwyn said.
The young maid looked up at him with round eyes and then smiled. “Yes sir,” she said. “Kiam would come; he would come with his ointment.”
“No Kiam,” she said. Opening her eyes slowly, she leant forward, the movement causing her more pain, for she winced again. “No Kiam and no duck shit. No.”
The girl bobbed on the spot and despite the grin, Brodwyn motioned the door while Meg glared at him.
“No wonder the princess aches so,” he said, sitting beside her. “For I do not think that a suitable treatment.”
“Oh, you too,” she said and closed her eyes again, laying her head back, but a large tear squeezed from beneath her eyelid and rolled slowly down her cheek until it fell after trying to cling to her soft, white skin.
“Your Highness,” he said quietly, and stood.
She reached out quickly to take his hand and she shook her head. He sat back down beside her and watched as she sat forward, rubbed at her face and turned with a smile towards him.
“I am sorry,” she said. “I have been rude.”
He shook his head.
“I have, please forgive me. I thought that I had healed so well, and yet now we have returned I fear that I will never walk upon this leg like it is my own again.”
“I do worry about your soldier’s method,” he ventured slowly.
A look of concern clouded her face, but he smiled and squeezed her hand. She sighed and gave him a small smile in return.
“I fear, sir, that I may limp like a soldier,” she said softly.
The smiled slipped. She pulled her hand from his and straightened herself, smoothing the dress across her knee. “I do not think this a wise move,” she said, looking about the room. “Where is the maid?”
“Allowing you some space.”
Again she looked at him with a little concern, then stood slowly.
“I feel you should rest more,” he said, standing with her.
“You should go,” she said, not looking into his face.
“We leave soon enough,” he said, stepping back and giving her a small bow.
“I do not mean...”
“It is time,” he said, taking her hand in his. It was as soft as it looked, and she allowed him to lift it to his lips. He lingered too long with them pressed against her knuckles. He heard her gulp as he lifted his eyes to hers. “We attempt to speak with the queen again and then return to talk with the king of Tands,” he said, her hand still in his.
She nodded mutely. He released her slowly, bowed again and turned to the door, his feet heavy and difficult to move.
“Brodwyn,” she said as he reached the door. “Give my best to your father.”
He nodded without turning and opened the door to a grinning Kiam. “Sire,” he said.
Brodwyn stepped back and allowed the maid and the soldier to enter.
“You, Princess, have turned from my favourite patient to one of my most difficult.”
“I said no more ducks.”
Brodwyn could hear the weariness in her voice, and he wondered just what this woman did to hold her world together. He lingered for a moment outside the door, wondering if he would have the chance to see her again before they left.
When the door closed, Meg wondered how things would be with him gone, and she tried to smile back at Kiam.
“I thought you were healing better than this,” he said softly.
“I am feeling the lack of exercise,” she said. “Is there no way that I could continue to train here?”
He opened his mouth and then closed it.
“You know it would help,” she said.
“I don’t know how the royal commander would feel about such a venture,” he said, an uncertainty in his voice she wasn’t used to hearing.
She took the cup offered by Lora and looked back to the door. She could still feel his warm, soft lips on her hand. She worried what Elalia would say and what his father might do, and whether this could ever end as she had imagined it so long ago, when her father had explained her duty and she had been just a girl. She felt old suddenly, and when the door opened she looked eagerly towards it.
“How bad is it?” Brent asked, looking Meg over.
Kiam shrugged again and Meg sighed.
“She is difficult,” Kiam said, and she surprised herself by hitting his arm.
“Meg, really,” he said, “when I am your saviour.”
She raised her eyebrows and started to laugh herself, at the strangeness of her life and his spreading grin. “Saviour?” she asked.
“Well, I may have assisted in the saving of your leg,” he mumbled, but still smiled.
“Commander Brent assured me there was no chance of the leg being lost in the first place.”
He shrugged then, the grin not so real, and she wondered if she had been lied to, that the break could have been that bad, and she looked quickly to Brent.
“There was a risk that you lost your life, not your leg,” Brent said seriously.
She chewed her lip.
“But you did not die,” Kiam said beside her. “You are strong, Meg.”
“But I could be stronger,” she said.
“The advisor has gone?” Brent asked, still standing before the door.
“They will speak with Elalia and then back to Tands. They leave soon, but I’m not sure when.”
He nodded to show he had heard her.
“Has Rainger returned with any news?”
He stepped forward and sat beside her. “Not as yet. How fares your sister?”
“Well for the moment, but I fear it will not last.” She stood and moved slowly to the fire, her leg stiff. “I want to continue with my exercise,” she said quickly.
Brent pursed his lips and looked at Kiam.
“Please.”
Brent nodded once and sighed.
“Could you find me some trousers?” she asked Lora. “I lost the last pair in the fire,” she added quietly.
Kiam shared a worried look with the commander.
She looked down at her dark gown, dusty from her time on her knees at the Temple. Kiam actually gulped like a man facing the enemy when she looked back to him. “I want to learn, and how will I swing a sword in this?” She indicated the gown. “For I fear it would trip me long before any opponent.”
“An opponent?” Brent asked. “I thought you were to continue as you were at the Keep.”
She looked at him seriously and he nodded slowly.