Chapter Sixteen
Rhylen
Isla is sitting on my cot when I walk into the tent. She cuts her eyes at me while she unbraids her hair and runs her fingers through the strands.
“Will I ever get my own space? Since we’re now traveling buddies?” She asks. There’s a hint of frustration in her voice that she tries to cover with a bit of sweetness.
“Would you like to be in Wyll’s bed? Or perhaps Irric’s?” I ask, prodding her. There’s a burn in my chest at my question.
Isla stands up, taking a step towards me. Her chest butts up against mine. With her hair down, wild around her face, it strikes me how stunning she is. There’s a pull towards her that I’m trying to resist. Argus’ words echo in my head.
“No thief, I don’t think I would,” Isla whispers delicately. Her eyes drop to my lips, so I angle my face down.
“Unfortunately,” I drawl. “We have to go visit your lover’s destruction tomorrow. Get to bed, love.”
Isla rears her head back, as if I had slapped her. Anger washes over her face. “I hate you.”
I smirk. “I know, love. Off you go. Early morning tomorrow.”
Isla stomps back to the cot, lays down, and turns her back to me.
She huffs as she settles in, trying to get comfortable.
I run my hands through my hair. I look back at the map sprawled back out.
Rolling it up, I shove the worn parchment into the leather tube, give Isla one last glimpse, and take off back outside.
Argus, the twins, and Ewan all lounge around the fire, sharpening blades, examining bags, and getting ready to pack up camp. Ewan stands as he sees me walk their way.
“How was Dunridge, really?” He asks, an eyebrow raised. There’s an underlying question hidden behind his meaning. Ewan wants to probe about Isla, ask if she was opening her eyes, ask if she’s ready to spill the secrets of her former lover. They all do. That’s why she’s here, after all.
Her closeness with Captain Cahir should give us an insight to his and the Prince’s plans, to see if he spilled any of their plans with her in an air of arrogance.
“She talks to the trees, doesn’t she?” I ask, throwing Ewan off his guard. His eyebrows shoot to his hairline.
“That’s an interesting question.”
“A simple observation, really. Have you noticed it?”
Ewan tips his head a bit, “I’ve had suspicions. I’ve wondered why our old friend thought she was so special.”
“Do you think our favorite captain knows?”
Ewan scoffs. “Doubt he’d ever let her leave his sights if that were the case.”
I toss the idea back and forth in my head. Could it be possible? Could he have missed an important detail about the woman he claims to love? Surely not. It didn’t take much to see Isla has an affinity. That she was touched with a bit of magic in her soul.
“Guess we’ll have to ask,” I shrug.
“Not sure she’ll spill her secrets so willingly, Rhylen,” he replies, amused.
I look back at my tent, “one can hope.”
∞∞∞
The camp is soon packed while Raia, Maisie, and Isla follow the twins around, helping them pack the wagon Argus will drive. Wyll talks animatedly, throwing things at Isla and Raia. Ewan gathers the horses.
“Isla,” I call out.
Her head whips towards me. “Yes, thief.”
Wyll snickers at her name. “You’ll be riding with me.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” she mumbles under her breath.
Her arms are full of bundles of dried herbs.
She looks over at Irric, motioning to the plants.
He tosses her a leather pouch, where she rushes to fold them in the bag, and walks my way.
With that, we’re off, leaving our favorite campsite behind.
A couple hours later, I feel Isla fidgeting behind me. Her hands hang loosely on my sides. She’s given up sitting straight, hardly touching me. Her face leans against my back. “How much longer?” She complains, causing me to chuckle.
“Getting tired, love?” I tease.
“Where are we going?” Isla ignores my question. “How long are we going to be riding? You packed the camp up, so clearly, we’re moving on. Tired of thieving in the woods, already?”
“I’m off to prove you wrong,” I supply. She tenses slightly, gripping my hips a little tighter.
“We’re going to a village? One you claim he’s destroyed?”
“Aye, love. Wouldn’t show you my own work, if I were to do it.”
I can feel Isla tense behind me, but she doesn’t say anything. I want her to. I want her to argue, to put up a fight, just so I can knock the captain off that high pedestal she has him on.
“Does that make you nervous?” I prod.
“What?”
“Finding out that everything he’s ever said to you is a lie, that he isn’t who you thought he was.”
She pauses a moment. I can feel her twiddle with the fabric of my hooded cape. Ewan and Irric glance at her. We’re all waiting for a response. It wasn’t like her to not jump at his defense, to swear that he’s the hero in this sordid tale. It gives me a sick sort of satisfaction.
“I’m not so sure,” she responds quietly. Interesting. She doesn’t say anything else, but neither do the rest of us. We ride in silence, listening to the silent hoof beats and the creak of the carriage. There’s an occasional grumble from Argus, but the rest of the crew ignores him.
The sun casts a deep shadow on the trees. We’ve been riding for a couple hours, moving closer to Rockstall and further away from the safe haven we temporarily had.
There’s a rush of the creek moving closer to us. Ewan catches my gaze, sending me a silent question. Should we go further? Push the daylight as far as we could to get to Rockstall? Maisie and Raia look at each other. Exhaustion lines their faces.
“We’ll be stopping soon, making camp until the morning,” I announce. There were several small sighs of relief.
“Finally,” Raia moans. “I’m ready to be off this thing.”
Wyll chuckles. “Come now, lovey. It’s not that bad.”
Raia cuts her eyes at him, causing the twin to laugh. He tilts his shoulder up half-heartedly, giving her a faint smile.
“We’ll stop here for the night.” I motion to the small clearing of trees perfect for three tents.
Argus will sleep in the wagon, while Irric, Ewan, and Wyll alternate a tent after watch shifts.
Wyll dismounts, guiding his horse to a tree, and helps Maisie from the saddle. She groans as she falls into his arms.
“Easy does it, lovey,” he speaks softly. He guides her to a fallen log, motioning her to sit. Maisie plops down on the log, stretching her legs out in front of her. The worn slippers kick off her feet.
“I need a wash, desperately. Something beyond the small washrag and basin you’ve given us,” she complains. Ewan smiles at her.
“A creek work enough for her delicateness?” He jokes.
Maisie’s head snaps up to him, just as he’s helping Raia off his horse. “Where?”
“It’ll be cold,” he warns.
“Where, Ewan?” Maisie stares daggers at my best friend.
“I’ll show ya once we unpack.” We quickly set up the three small tents. Wyll passes around jerky and canteens while Isla fiddles with the leather pouch Irric handed her this morning.
“Isla,” Raia calls out to her. “Are you coming?” She stands with Maisie and Ewan. They hold extra dresses in their arms. Isla looks up at the three of them. A dark look flashes over her face, and she hesitates to answer. Her eyes look to me and back to Raia.
“I’ll go in a little. I’ll need to grind these leaves before we leave in the morning,” she murmurs faintly. Raia looks at her for a moment but soon nods. The three take off down a trail. Isla sits, plucking the dried leaves off the branches. She adds them to a small pile.
An hour later, Maisie and Raia walk back to our camp with Ewan. They giggle among themselves as Ewan throws his hands in the air. He disappears into his tent.
Raia sits down next to her friend. She takes two bundles of the dried plant Isla was working with and begins to follow her motions. They pluck the leaves, talking among themselves. Eventually, Isla gives Raia a small smile.
I didn’t hear Wyll walk up to me until he whispers into my ear. “Beautiful, isn’t she? Like what we see?” He quirks an eyebrow at me.
“Aye, it is hard to deny her beauty,” I reluctantly agree.
But it wasn’t just that; she’s smart, cunning, an underlying strength that if fostered, will have her blooming into a fearsome creature.
I don’t want to acknowledge the allure of our healer friend, but if I denied him or tried to shake him off, Wyll would terrorize me.
He dramatically sighs. I fight the urge to groan. “It’s a shame she’s the captain’s, isn’t it?”
My stomach curls at the thought of the idiot captain fooling her with his pretty words and his soft touches.
I want to strip her mind of the bumbling idiot that has ensnared her.
What could she possibly see in him? He’s incompetent, stupid, and arrogant.
My veins heat as my stomach protests the thoughts that run rampant.
Wyll’s head falls back in a loud and obnoxious laugh as I struggle with the jealousy that tries to rear its ugly head.
Isla looks up across the fire at us, but I ignore the look. Shoving Wyll in the shoulder, I take off towards my tent.