Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
La Caverne de la Cathédrale was a section around the south side of the mountain range halfway between the main entrances to the caves.
It was in a shallow bluff tucked inconspicuously into a chasm and flanked by a healthy arm of the river.
Shades of color from dusty grays and reds to sandy whites and blues delineated ancient layers of earth compacted over a millennium and all at once exposed by a mighty earthquake.
It created a wide-mouthed but shallow cave, nearly a hundred feet high.
Heavy stalactites clung to the roof and large chunks of rock that had lived in their places centuries ago now littered the floor.
It was a stunning creation of Mother Nature; to sit in the place was to feel her magical presence.
But like many other wonders in this area, if one hadn’t passed it before, it would easily be overlooked.
Luckily for her companions, Alex knew just how to get there.
They arrived well before sunset to investigate the area and set up camp.
Philippe had brought all the remaining men from their party plus several militia men from Ponce, making fourteen altogether.
Six of those men were hidden in the trees along the path, with bows and arrows ready to fire at any trouble.
Alex felt like the odds were in their favor and she was anxious to understand what was at stake.
The strength of their enemies had come from their ability to remain hidden, not from large numbers.
Now that they had been displaced, they would be looking to reach a deal.
She did not know, however, how Philippe would respond.
The men settled in for a long evening, not knowing how prompt their adversaries would be.
They were fanned out amongst the rocks with their weapons handy.
Alex leaned against a large boulder with her knees up to her chest. Philippe sat nearby, whittling on a piece of wood.
Though the men were jumpy and excited, Philippe alone seemed eerily calm.
It was a glimpse into who he was as a fighter and a negotiator, and she was eager to see how he would manage this meeting.
She was sure he hadn’t wanted to bring her tonight.
Luckily, they needed her to get to La Caverne.
Besides, she wasn’t going to let herself get cut out again.
She was a part of this crew, and she would see it through to the end.
They had built a large fire near the entrance to the cave from chestnut wood, which, when it burned, tended to pop hot embers into the air.
The angry pieces of ash would sometimes land on a body, causing the men to jump and jerk before brushing the biting embers away.
They settled in, regardless, and soon they were passing around a canteen of liquor to help ease their nerves.
She watched it go from one to the next, and finally Franc left his spot by the fire to hand it to her.
“C’mon Alex,” Franc said. “Clears the head.”
She smiled at him. “Thanks, Franc. I’m okay.”
Franc nodded and tossed it to Philippe instead.
Philippe took a swallow with a grimace and looked over at her. “Why don’t you have a drink?” he asked. “We may be here for several hours. A sip won’t hurt.”
“I don’t like it,” she said.
“It will help take the edge off,” he said, nodding towards the foot she hadn’t realized she was nervously tapping.
“I suppose you are right,” she said, feeling irreverent. She took it back and took a swig. She cringed at the bitterness. “Ugh.” She grimaced.
“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning towards her. “I’ll protect you.” He winked playfully.
She smiled at his ability to tease even with the current situation.
As she watched the jug go from one man to the next, she felt a sensation of warmth she wasn’t accustomed to.
Despite the fact that they were moments away from meeting their foes, she felt secure among these guys, and their leader.
Secure enough to try another taste when the bottle came around again.
And then another a few minutes later just because she was bored.
“Easy there,” she heard Philippe say.
Alex watched him as he worked his knife against the thick wood he was whittling in a solid, stroking motion.
He glanced over as he spoke then looked back to his hands with an amused grin.
It was rare to see him sitting so still and calm, she thought, studying him.
He was usually pushing to go further, faster, practically vibrating with drive.
She imagined his mind was turning fast, working a thousand scenarios for the night, as she’d seen him anticipate outcomes before.
She should be doing the same, but she could think only of the heat from the fire that radiated off his skin and then warmed hers.
Oh no, what was she thinking? This was not the time.
She shook her head and felt her vision wobble.
What was this drink doing to her and how was it working so fast?
She felt her muscles relaxing and her thoughts going places she didn’t want to let them go.
She ran her eyes over his long legs, thickly muscled body, strong arms and hands working his knife, and she thought about how they would feel roughly working her body in the same way.
She shivered against the warmth in her veins.
For once, her confusing feelings were not so confusing.
The drink came around again, but drinking the stuff didn’t seem so bad anymore.
She felt pleasant and tingly. Her head swam, and she stared at him, which wasn’t polite, but who cared?
Her mind worked hard rationalizing a reason to give in.
She ached to give in to him, to give him what he wanted, but it still scared her to think of what the outcome could be.
The fire popped then and sent a spray of butterfly sparks into the air.
Alex watched as one glowing piece of ash floated down towards her.
She was happy for something else to take her focus, and she watched as it decided to land right on her knee.
The small cinder glowed red at the center and pulsed out flashes of orange and yellow.
She watched as it flaked off edges of white ash, realizing that she had seen dangerous fires, but had never taken the time to watch one harmless little ember.
But before she could finish the thought, the fabric in her pants gave way and the ember burnt right into her skin.
Alex kicked her leg and smacked the spark away as sharp pain snapped into her.
She patted her knee and examined the hole in her pants.
She’d been able to brush it away before it had caused too much damage, but the stinging red welt cut into her skin.
“Are you okay?” Philippe asked. He was looking at her with humorous concern on his face, as were several others. She didn’t know if they’d seen her entire display, but she wished she had burst into flames as fast as that ember.
Then, suddenly, as if by the grace of God, Philippe turned away.
He’d heard something that she had missed.
But it came again. A far-off call, three short hoots.
The men snapped back to attention, jumping to their feet, the scene giving to immediate tension.
Alex, however, sat rubbing her stinging knee, not quite remembering what that signal was supposed to mean.
But seconds later there was a whistle outside the cave, followed by the approaching crunch of boot steps.
Oh right, she thought, the rebels. She reached for her sword and instead lost her balance and rolled over the rock against which she’d been leaning.
This was thoroughly funny, and she couldn’t seem to stand.
Philippe looked down at her with wide eyes. “Alex,” he hissed, “Get on your feet.”
“I don’t know how to anymore,” she said, a giggle caught in her throat.
He stared at her in disbelief. Then he reached down and took her arm. He pulled her up like she weighed no more than a bird.
“Oh, that’s how you do it,” she said, staring down at her feet. She stomped twice to test out the ground. She looked up at him and bit back laughter.
“You had two sips of drink. How did you get this drunk?”
“I told you I don’t ever drink because it makes-me-so-stupid.” She paused, her words winding up like a top. “Am I slurring?”
“Just stay in the back and don’t say anything,” he said hurriedly.
She nodded her head and followed directions, sliding out to the edge of their covering.
How did these men sober up so quickly? This is why she didn’t drink.
She should never ever drink. She leaned against the cool stone and tried to look casual.
Wait, not casual. Intimidating. She bared her teeth at the dark wilderness.
Then, from the blackness of the night, emerged three men into the firelight.
They were grimy and shaggy, the signs of their time in the caves very evident.
The leader, a giant of a man with light brown hair that hung past his shoulders, held a wide, blunt knife out to the side, and the two men accompanying him held their weapons out to be surrendered as well.
The three of them had light eyes, indicating northern roots.
They wore ragged clothes, their breeches torn and faded.
They approached with their hands up to indicate surrender, but nothing else about their body language was passive.
The one in front wore scars that spoke of many battles and looked like pain would come to those who threatened him.
Alex shuddered to think of tangling with him on her own.
“Take their swords,” said Philippe.
Auguste and Luc sprang forth to take the weapons the men were holding out. The men didn’t fight.