Chapter 6
W hile Liana had ridden before, she had never done so for this long. And never during the night. Her eyes closed more than once, the gentle palfrey Darien had given her nudging her awake by sidestepping or neighing just as she was about to slip off.
“We will stop here,” her companion said, riding ahead of her. The road they took off the Isle of Ely was narrow, allowing for only one horse at a time.
Though it was dark, Liana could see easily they’d arrived . . . nowhere.
“Uh?” Surrounded by trees on both sides of them, she was about to ask if they were to sleep in the middle of the road when Darien, who’d dismounted, took her reins. He led them into the forest, where all sorts of sounds greeted them.
“What is that?” she asked of a hoot that sounded like an owl, but she couldn’t be certain.
“A tawny owl. Their hoots are more mournful, eerie even, than others. Some associate them with mysteries and the unknown because of it.”
“Eerie indeed,” she said, looking up but finding no eyes peeking at her. “You may be surprised to know I do not spend much time in the woods at night.”
Darien chuckled as he led them to what sounded like a stream or river ahead of them. “There is less to fret about than your mind would have you believe out here.”
She doubted that. “What of bears? Or wolves? Or boars?”
“You are unlikely to see any bears, or wolves, as sightings of both are rare, even when hunted. A boar is only dangerous when provoked.”
“I shall endeavor to remember that,” she muttered.
They arrived at a stream and very small clearing.
“How did you know this was here?”
“I’ve traveled this road many times.” He let go of the reins and reached up to help her dismount.
Before she could think about being so close to him as she got down, Darien had released her. He was, as expected, the most chivalric of knights. An earl’s son who knew this circumstance was highly unusual and kept his distance accordingly.
“This will be the only night we will be without shelter. Even with a fire, it will be cold.”
So they weren’t sleeping in the road, precisely, but not far from it. Nodding, she pretended the prospect of the remainder of the night, out here in the elements, did not terrify her.
“Liana?”
She looked back up at him.
“If you will allow it, I will sleep beside you and promise naught will harm you this eve. Do you trust me?”
Did she trust him?
Liana did not know Darien beyond his reputation, but that she knew well. The earl’s son was said to be quite charming, with a sharp mind for tactics. Many considered him elusive, though, a man of many contradictions. But all agreed, he was both honorable and a man they would be proud to call their earl.
“I do.”
“I will prepare our camp. You may use the brush to attend to your needs.”
She looked to where he was pointing.
“You are certain there are no animals lurking there?”
Liana hadn’t realized she was terrified of being gored by a boar before this eve.
In response, Darien made his way toward a thicket near the stream. He rustled around the area until coming back to her.
“No bears. No boars. ’Tis clear.”
“You knew that before looking,” she guessed.
“I did.” With a wink, he returned to attend to their horses.
Adding consideration to the earl’s son’s list of virtues, Liana tried not to imagine the sorts of creatures that lurked in the nearby woods, even if there were none in their vicinity. She could hear the owl’s hoot still and understood why it might symbolize the unknown. Some did not find comfort in what they did not know or understand, but for Liana, such was a way of life. It was a lesson her mother had taught her when she’d first begun to read the runes. There would be as many, if not more, questions as answers, and she must accept that.
By the time Liana emerged from the thicket, Darien had started a small fire. He laid out the bedrolls she’d spied in his saddlebags.
“Come and get some rest. We will leave at daybreak.”
Suddenly as tired as she’d been on the trail, Liana sat and thanked Darien for the extra cloak he’d rolled for her to use as a pillow. Rolling onto her side, she curled up her legs and covered herself as best as possible with her own cloak as Darien draped a blanket atop her.
“Do you sleep this way often, when you travel?” she asked as he returned to the growing fire near them.
“Aye,” he said, adding a log to the fire.
“This is not how I imagined an earl’s son to travel.” She yawned.
Darien grabbed his own cloak, which sat at the bottom of the bed roll, and lay beside her. Pulling it over him, he rolled to face her.
“How did you imagine I might travel?”
“I suppose...” Liana closed her eyes despite how pleasing Darien was to look at in the moonlight. “I suppose,” she repeated, forgetting the question, lulled by the crackle of their fire and drain of leaving her home for the first time, without her mother’s approval. Animals in the night. A handsome companion that was as out of reach as before she’d been given leave to call him Darien. Uncertainty. Sowilo. Renewal. Defeat. Victory.
She sat across from the queen, the room as grand as any she’d ever beheld. It was filled with people all wearing exquisite clothing at the height of fashion. But it was the queen’s expression Liana could not tear her gaze from. Was it...sadness? Hope? Bitterness? There was clapping, yet she continued to sit there, as regal as a queen. But was she? Was Matilda the queen of England?
Gasping, Liana opened her eyes. It took her a moment to realize why her backside was so sore. If Darien had been sleeping, he was awake now.
“What is it?” he asked, looking into her eyes. Liana had remained in the same position as when she’d fallen asleep. The fire beside them looked as it had earlier, the moon still high in the sky. She must not have slept long.
“A dream,” she said, the details of it already fading.
“You are cold.”
That, she could not deny.
“Turn your back to me. I will warm you with my body.”
Doing as he bid, Liana turned, attempting to find comfort where there was little. The bedroll was thin, though welcomed, and the chill made Liana wish she could crawl into the fire to warm.
As Darien moved into her, she pretended not to be shocked. It was not any man who pressed against her from behind, his arm draped atop the cloak and blanket. This was Sir Darien of Crimson Hollow, the next Earl of Ellswood.
Putting aside that fact, thankful there were so many layers between them, Liana was grateful for the warmth that permeated despite the clothing between them.
“I’ve foretold many things,” she admitted. “But never something quite this scandalous for myself.”
“I am sorry for it,” he said softly. “I am very much aware of the position this puts you in as an unmarried woman.”
She sighed. “That is the least of my worries.”
“Why?” he asked.
“I do not plan to marry.”
“Why do you not plan to marry?” he asked, clearly shocked by her statement.
“’Tis . . . complicated.”
Darien did not press her further on the matter, and she was thankful. Liana could not put her reasoning into words. Instead, she let sleep take her. Willing herself to embrace the dream, or vision, that would make this journey all worthwhile.