Chapter 33 Wren
By the time Wren and Tor reached the village of Raddlebrook, just south of Glenlock, the afternoon sun was waning, and the children were fast asleep. They stopped at the first inn they reached, Tor carefully lifting them down from the horse, while Wren went inside to find a caretaker. She was relieved to see that some of the residents of Glenlock had come to shelter in Raddlebrook. Among them was a kindly old woman who said she knew the children’s father and would gladly help them reunite.
Once the children were left safely in her care, Wren didn’t linger. The mood in Raddlebrook was tense and fearful, and she could not yet offer the people there a measure of comfort. Rather, she owed it to them – and to the rest of her kingdom – to journey home as fast as possible and defend Anadawn from Oonagh’s encroaching army.
Despite her growing urgency to get home, the southern road to Anadawn was congested with hundreds more deserters, and Wren’s horse was starting to slow.
‘Ride with me,’ said Tor, once they were outside Raddlebrook. ‘We can cut through the desert and avoid the droves.’
Wren perked up at the suggestion. ‘You Gevrans really do think on your feet.’
‘It’s just like a line in my favourite folk song: “If you don’t think on your feet, you die on your back.”’
‘How expectedly Gevran,’ said Wren, sliding off her horse and clambering on to his. He pulled her up with one hand, and she settled in front of him.
‘You steer,’ he said, close to her ear. ‘I’ll ride.’
‘Yes, Captain,’ said Wren, letting him hold her in place.
They turned west, towards the soft edge of the desert. By the time they reached the Ganyeve, Wren could barely keep her eyes open. Her head lolled, falling against Tor’s chest. The heat was so luxurious, so warm, it felt like a blanket curling around her. The thunder of hooves soon lulled her to sleep.
‘Burning hell.’ She jolted awake at the sound of Tor’s voice.
‘What is it?’ she said, sitting up. She looked around, searching the dunes for a stray blood beetle, or some other vicious sand creature come to devour them. There was only sand as far as she could see, and a strange and distant rumbling, as though something – or a great many things – was rattling through the desert. But that was not what was bothering Tor.
‘This heat,’ he said, adjusting his collar. ‘I feel as if I’m melting.’
Wren glanced at him over her shoulder. His forehead was slick with sweat and his cheeks were redder than she’d ever seen them. ‘It’s because you’re Gevran,’ she said, chuckling. ‘You’re welcome to take off your shirt.’
‘Won’t that make it worse?’
Wren flashed a wicked grin. ‘Not for me.’
‘Please don’t seduce me right now.’ He closed his eyes, his face in anguish. ‘If I get any warmer, I’ll burst into flames.’
Wren restrained herself. ‘Don’t worry, the sun is setting.’
Tor looked pleadingly at the horizon. ‘I hope I make it until then.’
‘You will,’ said Wren, laying her hand on his leg and feeling the muscles tense beneath it. ‘And then, if you like, we can try to find a hot spring.’
Tor let out a groan. ‘Why would I want to be more hot?’
‘Poor Gevran,’ she said, patting his knee. ‘I’ll look after you.’
Tor clicked his teeth, and the horse quickened its pace, cutting across the restless sands like a streak of black lightning. The sun soon set in earnest, the last of its light casting streaks of orange and red across the sky. A delightful breeze rippled through the desert.
‘Mmm,’ said Wren, as it kissed her cheeks. ‘This is much better.’
‘Now I think I could ride like this forever,’ said Tor.
As they veered east towards the Kerrcal Road, the sky darkened and the stars came out in full force, exploding across the sky in a riot of silver. Wren tipped her head back, watching them twinkle. ‘Isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?’
‘Almost,’ he said, smiling down at her.
Wren raised her chin, brushing her lips against his. Tor seized the kiss, sliding his hand through her hair. His tongue brushed against hers, gentle, searching. She melted into him until her entire body began to tingle.
All too soon, she broke away. ‘We should probably concentrate on the journey.’
He smiled against her lips. ‘As you wish.’
Wren turned back to the desert, smiling as he pressed a kiss to her neck. Night swept over the sands, curling them into its velvety embrace as Tor charted the way home, across the rolling dunes and through the sprawling woods, until at last, the white spires of Anadawn Palace rose up in the distance to pierce the dawning sky.