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It was before dawn when Ransom woke and prepared them to leave camp. The border would have to wait; she was in no shape to ride for another three days unless he wanted to deliver her dead on his master’s doorstep.
Annabeth leaned trustingly against him as she gave him directions to the mountain stream. At the mouth of the cave, they dismounted. It would be a low walk. He looked at Annabeth. Her eyes were steel-like in their desire. There was no way she could make it through the cave, wounded as she was. Standing up was killing her; leaning over would be her death.
“You ready?” she asked, a fortress in her voice.
“Almost.” He checked the saddlebags. Everything was ready. “I want you to put your arms around my neck.”
“What?”
“Do as I say.”
Annabeth didn’t argue. Lowering himself, Ransom reached behind and gathered her legs under the crook of his arms. Annabeth let out a cry of surprise. Taking the horses’ reins in the other hand, he walked into the cave. The light slowly faded, and Annabeth suddenly struggled free from his grasp.
“There should be a torch around here somewhere,” she said, walking to the wall. “Here it is. Now, can I have some flint and steel, since you took mine with my sword belt?”
In a minute, Ransom struck the steel and flint together, sparking the torch to life.
“You aren’t going to let me do a thing, are you?”
“Someone has to look after you,” he said with a smile.
“It’s not far, and it is only one torch. I can manage that.”
“Fine,” he said, handing her the torch and then slipping an arm around her. “But you are not going to walk all by yourself.”
When they came into the light again, Annabeth sagged down onto the grass.
Ransom sat down beside her, letting the horses feed on the mountain grass.
“Why are you helping me?” she asked in a whisper, turning towards him.
Ransom settled himself back on his elbow in the grass, watching a butterfly land on some nearby flowers. When it floated away with the breeze, he turned to Annabeth, who hadn’t taken her eyes off of him.
“Why do you want to know?”
“I have never met someone who has helped me out of the goodness of their heart before.”
“And you don’t believe it is possible.”
“Not if you are willing to kill.”
“Annabeth, you have to understand the sword is the only thing I am good at doing. I like the excitement and adventure.”
She looked at him skeptically.
“You don’t believe me?”
Sighing, Annabeth looked up into the sky, avoiding answering his question.
“Who is Alf?”
Annabeth changed colors before becoming cryptically silent. “What makes you think I know anyone named Alf?”
“You called me Alf when you were ill.”
“I was ill?”
“Delirious with fever, in fact.”
She was silent, her lips tightening as she gazed into the distance.
“You don’t remember, do you?”
Annabeth changed the subject abruptly. “The cottage isn’t far from here. If you don’t mind, I would like to try riding by myself.”
“Not at all,” he said, rising and pulling Annabeth to her feet. In a moment, he scooped her into his arms and onto her saddle.
A flush reddened her cheek.
“You didn’t think I would let you do all that work now, did you?”
Annabeth didn’t reply, but let her eyes sweep the landscape around and below them.
Ransom mounted and she tapped her horse’s sides, urging them into a small wood, then up the mountain and around to a small cottage with a shed beside it.
Riding into the shed, Annabeth dismounted and leaned against her horse, petting his neck as if nothing was the matter.
“Annabeth, why don’t you go inside? I can put the horses up,” said Ransom, coming beside her.
“I am good,” she said, moving to the side of her horse and undoing the saddle girth.
“Annabeth.” Ransom touched her waist, avoiding her wound. “You need to save your strength if you are going to get any better.”
She turned to him.
“I am fine.”
“Are you really?”
Something in his voice and eyes made her quiver inside. Annabeth lost her words. Turning to sort out the strange feeling, she grazed her wound roughly against his hand and winced, pausing in her turn. In that moment he gently applied his hand against her waist far away from the wound and began leading her out of the shed.
Annabeth felt his sheathed dagger handle brush against her arm. She pulled the dagger from his belt. He paused at her swift motion. Turning fully to face him, she put the dagger’s tip against his throat.
“Why are you helping me?”
Ransom stepped away, but Annabeth followed until he was against the wall, the tip still laid at his throat.
Ransom looked into her eyes. She was weak. He could easily take the dagger from her hand, strike a fist into her wounded side, and conquer her, but it wasn’t his way.
“Why?” Her eyes became level and touched with cold; she was ready for whatever would come.
Ransom let out a sigh. “I was hired to come find you.”
The tip pressured dangerously at his jugular, ready to pierce it and send him to his grave.
“By whom?” her voice was calm.
“King Fredric.”
“What?” she looked at him, taken aback, the tip releasing its sharp taste. A moment later she recovered herself. “You are lying.”
“He sent me to fetch you, to keep you safe.”
Annabeth shook her head, leaning the point deeper into his neck. “No. You are lying.”
“It is so, Annabeth.” He looked into her eyes, feeling no fear or dread. “Your father saved his life on the battlefield when King Fredric and he fought side by side for the Holy Lands. He remembered your father’s name, and when he heard that you, his daughter, were in distress, he sent me to fetch you into his court. Telling me to ‘Find her, earn her trust, and bring her to me, for her father’s sake.’”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t have to. But it is the truth.”
Annabeth looked into his eyes, searching them with questions in her own. She pressed the dagger harder against his throat.
Ransom closed his eyes. If he hadn’t earned her trust by now, he was never going to. It was better to die failing his mission than to live and fail.
“Why did King Fredric want to save me?”
“For your father’s sake,” he repeated without opening his eyes.
“Why? Why would he want to save me?”
Ransom opened his eyes and let them pierce into hers. “He said something about the brotherhood of the body of Christ.”
Her mouth quivered. Turning, she stepped away. Ransom stood where he was.
Taking a deep breath, she looked up to the sky. Releasing the air, she squared her shoulders and turned back to him.
“If you are lying to me, I will take your life.”
“Why should I lie to you?”
The question baffled her and she looked at him, her brow wrinkling.
He came to her side, brushing back a stray hair from her face before dropping his hands to his side and looking down into her eyes.
“Annabeth, I want to be your friend. Can you believe that?”
She looked challengingly into his eyes. “How much is he paying you to be my friend?”
“I am his personal spy and soldier. He paid me to bring you to him, not to be your friend. He said if you didn’t cooperate I was to tie you up, gag you, and drag you across the border. But considering everything, I would rather you came of your own will.”
With a toss of her chin Annabeth looked over her shoulder, away from him into the valley.
“You don’t have to trust me. You don’t have to believe me. It’s all up to you.”
“And if I say yes?”
“I would be honored to be your friend.”
“And if I say no?”
“I would rather you just killed me on the spot.”
Annabeth stepped away from him, startled by his words. “Why?”
Ransom just shook his head. “I am not afraid of death. Why should I care?”
She shook her head and looked up into his face. “All right.”
His eyes asked her where they stood.
Taking the dagger, she laid it in his hand.
“I’ll trust you for now.” Her emphasis was soft, but still it held the entire right to withdraw her opinion.
Ransom couldn’t help but notice that she had grown paler the longer they talked. He feared the damage that might come to her, but he didn’t dare rush things. As she walked past him, her body suddenly trembled and she started to collapse. Catching her mid-fall, he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the small cottage. Laying her on the cot, he quietly went about restoring her.
When Annabeth came to, her eyes met his calmly. They were fearless and off guard. She was exhausted, worn out.
She trusted him.
“I am going to look at your wound, all right? It’s going to hurt, but I have to make sure that you are fine.”
Nodding, she gathered the blanket in her fists, ready for what pain would come.
Taking away the bandage, he cleaned around the wound and bound it up again.
“Close your eyes and get some sleep. I’ll go tend to the horses. All you have to do is call if you need anything.”
Wearily, she nodded. He watched as her body sagged against the bed, relaxing completely. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her breathing slowed into a steady rhythm.