Fated Desire

Eleven - Hunted

‘Then cast honour aside,’ she joined him on her feet. Sastra pulled up the sleeves of her dress and began the slow task of refastening the ribbons in place across the centre of her chest. He was watching the movement of her hands with intent and she peered up at him through wisps of golden hair that had escaped from her pony-tail.

Jason caught her gaze before shaking his head, ‘hold, before you dress.’

Curious, she watched him kneel over their bags and pull a bundle of clothes free. He set them down on the cave floor, gesturing to the light tan breeches and blue shirt.

‘I thought you might be more comfortable,’ he suggested, ‘and less recognisable?’

Sastra looked down at the elaborate embroidered linen of her dress and smiled. Without a second thought she pulled the ribbons from their hoops and shimmied out of the fabric, letting it pool at her feet. She peeked at Jason only to see him walking away to the cave entrance.

He was far too much of a gentleman, not to try and watch her change.

The heavy skirts and layers of linen had been unbearable over the last few days and she was glad to shed the weight of them. Eager to experience the heat of summer in freer clothes. When was the last time she’d worn breaches? When she’d been eleven probably, when the Queen had died. Without breeches, there was no need for a shirt. With the death of William's wife, there had only been dresses. Shifts, kirtles and over dresses. A lady, afterall was considered under dressed without at least three layers of linen to confine them.

The shirt felt feather light upon her shoulders and she smiled. Despite the modesty afforded by the simple shirt that fastened beneath her throat, she felt naked. She turned slowly and discovered the pair of practical boots left alongside the pack for her. Her ruined slippers were easily discarded and the boots fastened up to her ankle. Sastra still felt as though she could float away as she followed Jason to the mouth of the cave and tapped him on the shoulder. Encouraging him to look around, she smiled at the appreciative look he gave. His gaze lingered on the curve of her breasts against the pale blue shirt and the hug of breaches against her hips. She watched him wet his lips with the tip of the tongue, and wondered if her taste still lingered upon his mouth. As his did, upon hers.

‘Thank you,’ Sastra lent forward, smiling as he almost moved away, she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

‘You’re welcome…What do you want to do with the dresses?’

‘Carry them, if we can? They might come in useful?’ Sastra frowned before shaking her head, ‘sell them? They’ll be worth a lot of gold in fabric alone.’

Jason nodded, ‘once we’re settled, safe, I’ll see if a local Baron might need them for his daughter, or wife.’ They were packed securely away.

‘There’s just one more thing,’ Jason approached as she started gathering up the gear for the horses. He took her hand in between his own and placed a small medallion within, a disc of gold off-set with a pale blue stone near the centre.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Sastra turned over the chain that would hang the necklace from her neck. It was a delicate piece of jewellery, Jason had excellent taste.

‘It’s spelled,’ he explained, ‘it has three uses of a powerful illusion.’ He smiled at the way she inspected the medallion, turning it over in her hands.

‘It doesn’t seem big enough to hold a powerful magic,’ she murmured, ‘illusions are normally huge things, arn’t they?’

‘I know a specialist,’ Jason smirked, ‘they’re able to set spells into more delicate items…which is why this shouldn’t be noticed by people looking for Myst items.’

Sastra nodded slowly and listened as he explained how the medallion would work. The three uses would disguise her in whatever way she might imagine. If she activated it, and imagined herself a tree, then anyone who looked upon her would see only a tree. Or, it could be used for subtler glamour, things such as the change of her hair and eye colour and general appearance.

‘This must have cost you a fortune,’ Sastra frowned, ‘Jason, I have nothing to give you.’

‘Sas,’ he lifted the gift from her hands and moved behind her. His fingers grazed her neck and she shivered with delight. Bowing her head forward as he fixed the chain in place and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, ‘I’m not helping you because I need reward. Not even the reward or payment of your love,’ he slid his hand around her waist, curled his fingers between her own and spun her around to face him.

Sastra stumbled, steadying herself against his body. Her free hand braced against his shoulder, as though they could be dancing at a ball. ‘You’d really walk away,’ she challenged, ‘if I asked you to go?’

‘Once you’re safe, or if it was the safest thing for you then yes. In a heartbeat.’

‘Jason-’

He cut her off, with another kiss. His hands resting on her shoulders he eased the distance between them as the kiss broke, leaving them both panting for breath a few moments later.

‘We need to get moving,’ he urged softly.

‘You think someone might be catching up to us?’

‘It’s always a risk…and I don’t know how long I can keep denying you whilst we stay here. Let’s get across the border to Issen…let’s get to your Aunt’s and then if you want me then I will be yours.’

‘You promise.’

‘I promise…’ he ducked his head to peck another, final kiss to her cheek before he bent and collected up all the saddles, as though they’d weighed nothing at all. With a whistle he had both horses trotting over.

Sastra busied herself, getting her mount ready then waited as Jason checked the creature over. She’d spent so many years with other’s getting a horse ready, that neither of them were entirely confident in her ability. Although the last two days Jason hadn’t found anything to comment on, or remedy. It was part of their routine though, and so far from the life she’d known it felt good to follow in the little habits they were working out between them.

Mounted up, she watched as Jason kicked out the fire and covered it with moss. He destroyed any evidence of their camp before mounting up on his own horse. With the sun well above the horizon the dew was lifting off the grass and leaf little beneath the trees. Birds hopped across branches overhead as the horses made their way through the endless forest, South towards the fjords and the border of Issen and Milany.

Sastra glanced back at the cave, running her finger and thumb over the medallion that sat snug at the base of her throat. The cave had provided them with shelter and the memories of the night before, and the man’s attack in the stable felt far away. Lost in the more pressing memories of the kisses shared with her Knight and the passion they had explored that morning.

There was more than one reason to get to Issen and her aunt, not just for the safety of the border and protection against the King’s wishes. But the opportunity to explore her feelings for Jason more physically was growing steadily in importance. Must like the pulse of desire within her body, whenever he looked back at her.

The morning passed without incident, like the mornings that had gone before. They dismounted regularly to rest the horses before pausing for a brief lunch, then onward again to the South. As the sun began it’s slow descent towards evening the sky above the canopy was painted in streaks of orange and gold. As though the clouds had been set on fire as they drifted on a lazy summer breeze. Sastra was grateful for the shade provided by the tree’s even if sometimes the air within the forest felt too close, stifling.

Every so often, Jason would pause and gesture for her to ride ahead. Sastra followed his commands, but found herself twisting to search his expression as he stood up in the stirrups, as though he was desperately trying to listen to something. Then he would catch up with her and encourage their horses to move a little faster, picking their way through the undergrowth. They’d reached a clearing within the forest, at the bottom of a valley where a wide stream blocked their way. It slid through the valley like a silver snake before a large meadow rose up the other side and vanished into the trees again. To the east, she could pick out smoke rising against the shifting clouds, she could even smell charcoal on the wind. Curious, she wondered if it might be another small village, lost within the woods so far from a major town or city. There were so many collections of houses, bound together by a member of nobility who they paid fealty to. He would then pay fealty to his local Baron, Earl, Duke or the King himself depending on the size of their holdings and land, and the profits that could be made from it.

So far from Milany, Sastra was realising, to her shame, for the first time just how little profit there was to be made from existing within the great forests. The few villages they’d ventured close enough to see, had been made of a collection of houses and perhaps a tavern or inn for passing travellers. These people existed day by day on the food they collected from around them, or their skills as hunters.

Jason beckoned her forward again, and willingly, Sastra nudged her horse ahead. She smothered a yawn behind her hand. Soon, they’d have to stop for the night. She wondered what might be for dinner. Would Jason have time to hunt for meat? Or would it be dried jerky and boiled rice again?

For a brief moment, riding beneath the setting sun, Sastra forgot that she was fleeing from her Uncle and a terrifying arranged marriage. She was content to explore the world at leisure with Jason, a man she trusted like no other.

Then a crash broke through the tranquillity. The gentle hum of insects was shattered as horses broke through the tree’s behind them.

‘Go!’ It was a simple shout, and kicked her horse forward. The creature screamed, rearing onto its back legs it danced, hooves beating the air. She’d thrown herself forward, wrapping her arms around its thick neck. Her body jarred with impact as the horse landed again and danced sideways. She slid, almost falling sideways as it lurched forward. Eyes closed she clung for dear life as the animal ran forward. Was she still alive? Sastra gripped with her arms and legs for all she had and barely dared to peer as the horse charged forward, headlong into the trees. Dodging and ducking with rapid strides. It had gone too far before she managed to edge upright once more. What were the rules? What had Jason told her? Sastra tried to remember what he’d said but the words were jumbled by fear. Panic, much like desire, had rendered her unable to think. They’d run so far, that she couldn’t even see the Knight behind them. Why had he shouted for her to run? Her heart beat wildly as she turned the horse, scanning the treeline for a sign of the Knight. Was that him there? Was there movement between the trunks and brush? A bird lept from a branch overhead, shrieking as it flapped into the air. Sastra jumped, and her horse spun again, dancing sideways as she struggled with it. She turned once more and looked back the way she’d come. Or was that the way forward? She turned again and swore beneath her breath. If there was something she’d been supposed to do, she’d forgotten it. Now, even worse…she was lost.