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Annabeth didn’t wake from her slumber until the next morning. Ransom kept a close eye on her throughout the night, waking every hour or so to make sure she was not falling into a fever or any worse malady.
Ransom turned around from placing bannock next to the fire to find Annabeth watching him.
“Good morning.”
“Morning.” Her eyes flitted around the cottage.
Rising, he went to her side and gently touched her forehead. “How did you sleep?”
“Like the dead.”
Ransom chuckled. “I am glad to see you are still with us, then.”
“Are there signs of anyone?”
Ransom shook his head. “Not a one.”
“Have you even been outside?”
“I fed the horses and walked around the perimeter and down the trail, all the way to the cave, and back another way, dropping around from the back.”
Annabeth looked satisfied.
The day passed quietly as they both caught up on lost sleep. Ransom was content to sleep in front of the fireplace. As the stars came out, he woke to the sound of the cot creaking loudly. Annabeth had her legs over the side and pushed herself to stand.
“What exactly do you think you are doing?”
She started and turned to him. “I didn’t think you were awake.”
“I wasn’t, but I am now,” he said dryly.
“I am sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I have to move or I will become stiff all over.”
“You will lie back on that cot and save your strength.”
“Ransom, I just can’t.” She moved towards the door of the cottage.
He looked at her. It was the first time she had used his name.
“Annabeth.”
She kept going towards the door. Upon opening it, she leaned against the doorframe. The moonlight fell on her, softening everything about her, even the bloodstain on her dress.
Rising, he went to the door and leaned on the other side of the frame, crossing his arms and resting one foot behind the other on the tip of his boot. He waited in silence.
“I can’t go with you,” she whispered.
He didn’t react, but glanced at her sideways.
Annabeth looked up at him. It was obvious by the look in her eye she was steadfast. “I am not going with you.”
“Why not?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
Leaning further into the doorway, she rested her head against the frame and looked out and away from him.
“I can’t leave my father there.”
“You don’t know if he is alive or dead.”
“I won’t leave him or the people. They depend on me. So much depends on me,” she said, sighing and squaring her shoulders.
“How do the people depend on you?”
“Have you ever heard the talk about me?”
“A little here and there.”
“I once heard a woman say that if I ever got captured she knew ‘we would all be dun fur by Lord Rabun.’”
Ransom smiled at the way she broke into the peasant way of speech.
“That is only one woman, Annabeth, and leaving isn’t being captured.”
“But what can I do in your country? How will your king help my people? They need me here, if nothing else, to keep Lord Raburn and his men from plaguing them all to pieces.”
“Annabeth.”
“It’s true. You don’t know him like I do.”
“And how well do you know him?”
“I was brought up in his house. My father was his captain of the guard. The king often hired his services, for he was a very skilled swordsman, but my father was bound to Raburn by an oath of loyalty and brotherhood that he would not break...” her words fell off into a sigh. Suddenly, she pushed herself away from the door, muttering under her breath. “I am tired.”
Walking across the room, she laid down gingerly on the cot and turned her back to him. Ransom walked out the door, closing it behind him; he tended the horses. When he came back in, Annabeth was sleeping.
The next few days passed very quietly. He would not press her for her mysteries; he would wait until she could not hold them. He spent many of his spare hours keeping the horse tack in shape, mending the wear and tear, making up their supply of flour into bannock, getting water from the nearby stream, and making sure they weren’t followed or found. This left Annabeth to memorize the cracks in the ceiling and the knotholes in the rafters and count away the hours. She was growing restless. Something was eating at her.
They had been at the cottage almost a week when Ransom awoke to find her cot empty and the door ajar. Jumping to his feet, he slid into the darkness.
Annabeth was in the shed saddling her horse.
Ransom laid his hand on the horse’s back. “Were you going to tell me?”
Biting her lower lip, she tightened the saddle girth and moved away to put on the horse’s bridle.
“Annabeth.”
She turned to face him. “I told you I can’t go with you.”
“I know you told me that, but it still doesn’t make any sense.”
“Of course it doesn’t. You aren’t in my position; you don’t have a price on your head; you don’t have a father locked in dungeon; you don’t have a—” she stopped short. “You have to let me go. When it is all over, I will come with you. But I can’t leave. I won’t. Not until I know it is all over.”
Slowly, he stepped forward, his arms bridging the gap between the horses.
“The more I know, the better. How can I help you if you don’t allow me to know all of the details? I need to know everything.”
“My favorite color is blue,” she said flippantly.
Ransom smiled. “I meant all the details of the price on your head.”
Annabeth smiled for a moment, then became serious and silent. Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth and closed it. It was too difficult to speak about just at that moment. Annabeth took the reins of her horse and started to back him out of the stable.
“Where do you think you are going?”
“I already told you I am not going with you, and I can’t stay here any longer. I can’t, Ransom, I just can’t.”
“Can you at least tell me why you have to go? I can’t understand unless you tell me.”
For a long time there was silence. Annabeth couldn’t seem to face the words and let them out of her heart, so Ransom opened the conversation.
“I hear Lord Raburn is a very reasonable man. Why is he being so unreasonable about you?”
She shook her head in a frustrated manner. “Everyone says he is reasonable because they are afraid of him. No one dares cross him, because if they do he will double cross them twice as hard, and sink every hope they ever laid eyes on.”
“That isn’t a compliment.”
“It’s the truth,” she said, trying to face her own words. Suddenly she turned to him. “He wants me so he can break me and my father and destroy the kingdom.”
“Your father?”
“Yes, my father is—was Lord Raburn’s captain of the guard. My father is—was—is—I don’t know if he is dead or alive. He is a professional soldier, and the best sword master I have ever seen. You can imagine what a disappointment it was for him to have a girl.”
Annabeth turned away, walking to the end of the shed. She leaned against the hay rack.
“What kind of man is your father?”
“He is the kind of man who...who is my father” Annabeth answered vaguely.
Ransom looked at her curiously, trying to pry into her heart and understand.
Annabeth sighed in frustration. “I don’t know how to explain it to you. I never thought I could love someone like I loved my mother. I always failed him; I was a girl; but when he came home from the war he was different.”
“War changes men.”
“I am talking about a good different. For the first time in my whole life, I felt that he loved me. Then I had to go and spoil it all and run away like a coward, and I keep running because I am too much of a fool to stop.” Her voice was choked with tears, but she held it back as one who had nearly mastered the art.
He stepped closer, leaning sideways so he could see her face. “Do you ever cry?”
“What is the use of tears? I will only feel worn out when it is all done,” she answered bitterly.
“Sometimes I find tears relieve the feelings, especially in the tender heart of a girl. A girl like you could do with a good cry.”
“You aren’t afraid of my tears?” she asked, trying to laugh.
“Why would I be? They are only salty drops of water filled with emotion, passion, and grief.”
She smirked, tossing her head with a slight huff and turned away. “You speak nonsense.”
“Do I?”
“Of course you do.”
He stepped in front of her. “Be yourself. It’s all right to cry, you know.”
“Crying makes people weak,” she said, trying to push past him, but there he still stood.
“Who says?”
“It’s a common fact.”
“Self-pity makes one weak, not tears.”
“What is that you want from me?”
“I want you to be yourself. I want you to let go of whatever is holding you back.”
“And if I fall apart and am too weak to continue on? What then?”
“I’ll look out for you.”
“And when you are gone?”
“I won’t leave you.”
“People always leave me—my mother and now my father. You are going to go, too. I know it. I can feel it here,” she said, touching her heart.
“Then I promise, if I ever leave you, I will always return. I will never leave you completely alone.”
“That’s not possible. You are human, and humans change.”
“I will not change, Annabeth.”
“You will; everybody does. It is human nature to change.”
“Then I will change for the better.”
Annabeth pushed past him, grabbing her horse’s reins. “You don’t know what you are talking about.”
Ransom closed his hand over Annabeth’s, halting her retreat.
“Tell me.”
“No. I can’t. You have no idea who I am or what I am doing. This is my fight—my war. Stay out of it.”
“No. I won’t. Why is Lord Raburn after you?”
She shook her head. “Secrets are my only weapon. I am not about to give them up to you.”
“So you have something on Raburn?”
“Maybe.”
There was a long silence.
“One question before you go. Where did you learn to tie someone up like that?”
Annabeth looked up at him curiously. “The way I tied you up?”
“That is the general idea,” he said, a hot feeling rushing up his neck uncomfortably.
She turned away from him, talking to the thin air in front of her. “When your father trains young men how to fight, and then trains you, too, you learn a lot of things. Especially if they catch you and make you their victim when your father isn’t around.”
“Did they get into trouble for it?”
“No.” Annabeth sighed. “Not until Prince Alfred came along. Then they watched their manners. He was the only one who ever treated me like a lady, other than...”
“Other than who?”
Annabeth sighed. “It’s not really important.”
“Are you holding back on me?”
“It’s not something you need to know. You don’t need to know any of it, really.”
“Annabeth, listen to me,” he said, taking her shoulders and turning her to look him in the eye. “I am not letting you do this alone.”
She tried to step away from him, but he held her fast.
“What about your king?”
“I am here to protect you.”
“I might tie you up again.”
“You are going to have to catch me sleeping first,” he laughed.
“That shouldn’t be too hard.”
“You just think that. So, will you let me?”
“Do I have a choice?”
He didn’t answer her question but looked into her eyes.
Annabeth’s gaze dropped. “All right. I have to meet a friend; he has some information I want, and I have something for him. We have to go south.”
“But you just came from there.”
“I have a disguise.”
“A boy again?”
“No, I have worn that one clear through. I have something a little more clever. I don’t think even you will recognize me.”
“Oh, I doubt that.”
“We’ll see.”
“So, you want to leave tonight?”
“The sooner the better.”
“Won’t it be difficult to see in the cave?”
“We aren’t going through the cave, and there is enough moonlight to see where we are going.”