Chapter Twelve
Abauna hurried toward the sound of rushing water, punching through the brush and weeds, oblivious of whatever danger might be ahead. They’d encountered nothing more dangerous than rocks so far, and she was desperate to find the source of that sound.
She knew they were quickly running out of water. If they were going to survive, they had to find a way to replace it.
“Bride, wait!” Rolan’s growling voice was close behind, and he didn’t sound happy. “You promised no more running off without me.”
Oh, right.
She did promise that, didn’t she.
Turning back to him, she called, “Come on! We’re close.” She waited the half-second for him to reach her and then grabbed his hand to continue pulling him along. “It’s this way, I’m sure.”
As they broke free of the trees into a clearing, they were both out of breath and panting. But there it was.
Before them was a bubbling brook that spanned the width of her groom’s height. It was clear enough to see the smooth pebbles beneath and the silver finned fish that swam in its depths.
She nearly squealed in delight. But that wasn’t even the best part.
Her eyes followed the stream as it widened into a vast, misty pool surrounded by a rocky mountainside. Above, water tumbled from the cliff to land in the pool with a glorious slash.
She clapped her hands together, a breathless laugh bursting from her.
It was a dream-come-true as far as water sources were concerned.
“Look at this, groom! Look what we’ve found.”
She rushed forward, kicking her slippers off at the bank. Not caring about her metallic gown, she stepped into the stream, going deep enough that it reached her knees.
“It’s perfect. Cooler than the springs of the Hold, but in the heat of the day it’s fine.” More than fine. It was sublime. If she could rid herself of the gown, she’d wash the grime and sweat from her body and do something about her snarled hair.
“And there are fish,” Rolan added, sounding pleased as he examined the small clearing. “Some wild onions over here, and mushrooms too. This is an excellent find, bride.”
“We should bathe here,” she said, thinking only of how amazing it would feel to rid her skin of the forest humidity.
When no response came, she lifted her gaze from the miraculous water to find Rolan staring hard at her. What was that look for?
“You wish us to bathe?”
Oh. He must think she meant…
And although she wasn’t completely against the idea—she did wonder what he looked like behind his clothes, especially south of his waist—she wasn’t ready to be naked before him. Especially when he’d made it so clear on their wedding night that he’d expected another kind of female.
“Not… not, you know, together. But I could go behind the falls and you could remain in the pool.”
He glanced away quickly and she thought his cheeks might’ve reddened, there in the spot just beneath his eyes where the fur was thinner.
“Come on. Wouldn’t it be nice to get clean of the dust and sweat?”
“I don’t know,” he said, looking at the sky above them. “We haven’t yet found shelter and the light will be fading soon.” His gaze dropped back to her. “It will be cold again. Perhaps we should carry forward and return here when we’ve found somewhere to sleep.”
Oh, he was right. They couldn’t linger here when the night was coming quickly. Especially because she was determined to avoid a repeat of last night. Using him for heat had caused them both a fair bit of awkwardness, and she’d had her fill.
“Good point, groom.” She sighed, forcing herself up the bank, and returned her slippers to her feet. “But let us fill the canteens before we go.”
He nodded, retrieving them from the cache and passing her one. Together, they refilled their water and then it was time to leave.
“Which direction should we try first?” Rolan asked. “Upstream or down?”
“Up.” She was dying to get closer to that waterfall, and following the mountainside didn’t seem like a bad idea. Perhaps they could find another cave for the night. Maybe one that was bigger and more protected from the wind.
As they grew closer to the pool, she noticed it was actually two separate bodies of water. A larger one that connected the brook and the waterfall, and another smaller one off to the side. It too was connected to the bigger pool but only by a small crack in the rocks around it. It was different too. It had the look of the waters from home. What she’d thought was mist from the falls was actually steam. She could feel the heat of it even though they weren’t yet upon it.
“Is that…”
Rolan paused before it, squatting to dip his hand in the water.
“A hot spring,” he confirmed, standing. “Like the Waters of Escheron, but much smaller.”
“You know what this means…” She could hardly keep her voice normal as he turned to look at her. “We can bathe here anytime, not just in the day!”
His gaze softened around the edges. “You would enjoy that, bride?”
“Of course! Even if it’s quite a journey from our shelter, it would be a treat to travel here for a warm bath…” Her voice faded when she noticed his eyes had focused on something behind her. Something that made his face go grim. “What is it?”
Turning to follow his stare, she didn’t see it at first.
The trees thickened again on the other side of the hot spring, but if you looked past them, you could see another clearing. Smaller than this one, and perhaps meant to be passed by altogether. But within it…
“Is that what I think it is?” she whispered, not sure if she wanted to be right. Was this good news or bad? She couldn’t be sure.
Rolan crowded in behind her, like a shield at her back.
“We must approach cautiously,” he warned.
She nodded in full agreement, her stomach twisting with anxiety she hadn’t felt since the confirmation ceremony.
Easing forward, he took the lead, pressing into the brush. “Stay close.”
She followed on his heels, her eyes scanning their surroundings for anything amiss. Any movement that wasn’t of their own making.
As they came into the new clearing, her heart pounded with hope.
A small structure lay before them, its chipped stone walls holding up a strange angled roof covered in some kind of rough tile. Sheets of dark glass rested atop, reminding her of the ones in the Barabarian Hold that drew power from the daylight, except these were smaller and coated in layers of grime and moss. Two round windows were set in the front, their glass cracked in several places, but still intact. And a large wooden door with a locking mechanism she’d never seen before.
Everything was overgrown with vines and shrubbery, leaving it nearly camouflaged to anyone who wasn’t intentionally looking.
“It appears abandoned,” Rolan murmured, “but I can’t be sure.”
“Should we knock and see?”
He glanced at her, and then at the ground around them, frowning.
“There are no footprints and the foliage is grown over. Is it possible the Ancients have smiled on us?”
She sure hoped so.
Cautiously, they moved toward the door, every crunch of stone beneath their feet sounding like thunder. Up close, she could see the rot of the wood near the handle. And the lock appeared old and unused. Nothing like the notched bars they used in the Hold.
Rolan used his fist to pound on the wood, dust and tiny shards of wood exploding around them with the action.
A surprised yelp creeped up her throat and he turned to look at her sheepishly.
“Too hard?”
“Maybe a little,” she agreed.
They listened for any response from inside, but there was only silence.
“I don’t think this door has been opened in a long time, bride.”
Still, she tried to hold her excitement at bay.
“Should we check it out?”
He nodded, turning the handle to push it open. From inside, the smell of dirt and stale air greeted them, and as soon as they stepped inside the lights began to glow, as if the hut was waking to their arrival.
“Hello?” Rolan called out. “Is anyone within?”
She knew there’d be no answer by the condition of the interior. Everything in sight was coated in dust a knuckle thick. It was a small space. A combined living area and kitchen, with a short hall that branched off to one side. Perhaps a bedroom?
Rolan strode forward, checking every corner as he went, and then took the hall to check it too. But she was drawn to the small eating table that boasted two chairs. Not for any reason other than there was a book upon it.
Books weren’t used—or even allowed—in the Hold. They were considered purposeless. Relics of a time past. Anything that needed recording was done so by spoken word to and by the Priests and Priestesses, to be kept by the Ancients. Even if books did exist there, they wouldn’t be read.
Only one Barbarian tribe was ever taught to read or write.
Triceans.
And only because it made work easier when you could record what needed doing or who was responsible.
Still, their language was largely based on symbols, not words of old. If this book was as ancient as everything else in the hut seemed, would she even be able to read what was written in it?
Lifting it, she carefully brushed the dust from the cover. The front was blank, a plain dark canvas that might’ve been blue once upon a time.
Rolan returned from the hall to stand beside her.
“There is a bed and other supplies,” he said. “What is that?”
“A book. Written word.”
“An old way of communicating?”
She nodded, opening the cover to find the first page. To her surprise, it was printed with both words and symbols. They were stacked on top of each other with familiar icons sitting above the words she couldn’t make sense of.
A cross, the symbol for ‘lord’. A circle within a circle meant ‘of the’. And wings, the symbol for anything that flies. Two sets of them, so plural.
“Lord… of the… Flies,” she read.
“You know what it says?”
She grinned at him. “Triceans are taught written word. I can read these symbols. It says ‘Lord of the Flies.’”
“Lord of the flies… what does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
The next page was written in ink, by hand, and contained only symbols.
“What does it say?” Rolan peered over her shoulder as she read aloud.
“If you find yourself here, and in need, the hut is yours. I no longer need it, as I have gone to find more.”
“More what?”
She shook her head, closing the book to a cloud of dust.
“I don’t know, but do you know what this means, groom?” She couldn’t help the smile forming on her lips, couldn’t stop it if her life depended on it. “It means we have found our place. It means the Ancients have indeed smiled upon is.”
His expression eased and lifted as he looked around, returning to her skeptical.
“You think so? It will take much work to clean and secure it.”
She laughed loud, and his eyes did that strange thing from earlier when she got angry at the Empress. What was it, that look? Glazed and soft. Perhaps… awe?
No.
It couldn’t be that.
“I am Tricean. Work is my purpose. Plus, I’m knowledgeable in how things function. Like this lighting, and… and that cookstove over there. Fitting, yes? And you are used to difficulties of circumstance, strong and brave. You will learn of our surroundings and how to make the best of them.”
With every word from her mouth, he stood taller. Surer. What power her words had over him. She must never use them for harm. Those with great power mustn’t wield it….
“I will nurture our hut and keep it sound. See to the things a wife should see to. You will forage for what’s needed to sustain us, the way you did this morning. Together, we can make this place safe and liveable. I know it.”
Rolan stared at her, silent for several breaths.
“A home?” he asked.
She grinned, nodding. “We can make it one.”
“And… and you would share it with me?”
Her smile slipped, but only because of his uncertainty.
They were likely the only two people alive in this Barren, yet he still didn’t expect her to accept him. Still didn’t think himself worthy of fair treatment.
She hated the Empress for what the female had done to him. For making him believe he was a monster.
But until he learned otherwise, Abauna would rely on his honor and sense of duty.
“Well, yes,” she said, letting her tone go nonchalant. “We have an agreement after all.”
He lowered his gaze before nodding, and again that tinge of red under his eyes. “We do, bride.”
“Then it’s settled, yes? This will be our hut, and…”
He looked at her. “And what?”
“And the springs out there will be ours too.” She lifted her eyebrows expectantly, and his lips twitched.
“You wish to bathe now?”
She clapped her hands together, somehow managing to not bounce around like a giddy child.
“I thought you’d never ask.”