River Heart

Chapter Seven - Caravan

Lyris, for once was stunned into silence. She gawped at the man who’d come to her rescue the day before, as though she’d never seen him before. Yes, it had been a little odd that he didn’t seem to have any pressing life or family to return to. Nor did he seem to belong to the local area. She had assumed that he was a traveller with his brothers. Not in a thousand cycles would she have guessed that he was a Prince. A prince. The young woman wondered if she should kneel or curtsey and began to move, only to be stopped by Arn as he glared at her.

‘Anyone could pick up that necklace,’ Ordin pushed past Thedon, ‘you could have killed a prince and taken it from him!’

‘Odrin, stop,’ Thedon reached for the young mans’ arm, ‘you know that isn’t true.’

Arn tucked the medallion away behind his shirt, and it was as though the sun had retreated behind dark clouds.

‘It’s gold!’ Ordin stared at the elders, ‘when he’s dead we’ll take it from his neck.’

‘Elder,’ Arn beckoned to the grey-haired lady, ‘would you care to explain?’ He sounded bored and Lyris watched him carefully. He lent back against the well wall as the older woman approached. She dropped into a neat curtsey, bright blue skirts fanning from her hips as she bowed. ‘I am Kelanin, Highness, it’s my caravan you see at the far edge of the village.’

Lyris lent to the side so that she could peer through the houses. Sure enough there was a brightly painted caravan in a matching blue to the woman’s skirts. Behind it were the shadows of more of the covered wagons. The windows opened to coax air into the wooden houses on wheels.

‘Ordin,’ Kelanin turned to the young man, lifting her cane and pressing it to the man’s sword until it dipped and scrapped the dirt. ‘A royal medallion can only be given or taken by the king, kill him, m**m him, do whatever you like and you won’t take gold from him.’

Ordin slid his sword away from the cane, scowling like bad-tempered child, ‘why not?’ he demanded.

‘It cannot be taken by force,’ Arn inspected his hands, ‘nor coerced or stolen. If it is removed from my person, or if I die, then it will return to the King, and he will know my fate. So, Odrin of the Borderlands, are you going to try and kill me?’ Her tall companion looked up at the man who scowled.

His sweaty grip curled around the hilt of his sword before he spun on his heel and stamped away through the knoll. Sword swinging and cutting the heads of daisy’s.

‘You are a prince?’ Lyris found her voice and tried to withhold her accusation.

Arn glanced at her once more, and lifted his shoulders in a shrug. ‘So,’ he returned his attention to the gathering village. Those who had been circling to attack had moved to the front, faces fixed with awe. Eyes wide as they stared at the blonde youth.

‘Her horse,’ he pointed to Lyris and she folded her arms across her chest.

Her heart squeezed with hope.

‘And her belongings, and we’ll be on our way.’

Thedon exchanged a glance with the young mother, who was looking at Arn as though he was made from gold from head to toe. Any disgust she’d felt towards him, had instantly vanished.

‘Lide,’ Thedon gestured to a wisp of a girl with long red hair. ‘Bring the horse and the bags.’

The girl hesitated before spinning on her heel and vanishing in flurry of pink skirts and bouncing locks.

‘Get on, the rest of you,’ the Orderly decided to take charge of his villagers, waving them away with a sigh, ‘we’ll not be killing anyone. Prince or no, or Myst or no,’ he shook his head.

‘What about the water?’ A voice called from the back.

It was the young mother who advanced towards the man who had spoken, ‘the Myst said she is here to help. She said,’ the woman glanced back at Lyris, ‘we’d better make a new well. So I suggest you start. Get your boys together and we’ll find a new site.’

Stunned by the woman’s change in attitude, Lyris simply nodded when she looked back for confirmation.

‘Y-yes, good idea. The walls of this one, they’re good for now but they’ll start cracking.’

‘If your well is poisoned, you need a new one,’ Arn added and the young mother curtsied to him. Then she turned, the toddler still running to hide behind her skirts whenever she moved. The young woman left, looking over her shoulder at the Prince as he lent against the low stone wall.

Person by person, Thedon managed to send the folk on their way, except for Kelanin who waited. The woman folded her hands into the wide sleeves of her dress and waited. Lide returned with Storm, the grumpy grey horse that Lyris had had the misfortune to ride through the countryside to the border itself. Still, the Student was glad to see the animal unharmed, even if his first instinct was to try and stand on her feet. Arn moved forward and accepted the horse’s rope, pulling his wide face down and patting his nose. Lyris, about to warn the Prince about the creatures’ foul temper, was silenced when Storm extended a long pink tongue and licked Arn’s hands.

Shocked into silence for the second time, she inspected her packs and bags. Everything she’d left on the horse the day before had been returned. The young woman suspected that the villagers had been afraid to go through her belongings. She couldn’t help but wonder though, how many days it would have been till their need and curiosity had overruled their fear.

Stroking down the dark grey hair of Storm’s neck, Arn turned to Kelanin, ‘is your caravan ready to travel?’ He asked and the elder grinned.

‘I have lingered with an offer, your highness,’ she looked between the pair of them and Lyris busied herself with the packs, re-fastening them quickly. What was Arn planning now?

‘Travelling as a party is safer, and you would be paid for your time,’ Arn replied.

‘A silver each, per day,’ Kelanin spread her arms in invitation and Arn smiled in return.

‘You understand that payment would be made on delivery?’

‘I would expect nothing less,’ the trader patted a confused Thedon on the arm before gesturing for Lyris and Arn to follow her. ‘I’ve never known a prince to carry coin,’ the old woman teased. ‘We’ll set out after breakfast, make sure you have what you need,’ she nodded towards the well before leaving them. Weaving through the houses and back to the collection of caravans.

Arn circled the horse and peered at Lyris, trying to read her expression.

‘Do you have what you need?’

‘You’re a prince?!’

Thedon took his opportunity to peer over the back of the saddle. ‘I would advise that you leave my home with speed, Myst.’ He warned. ‘I would also ask that you do not come back.’

The Orderly then took his leave. Lyris looked around the grassy knoll. Though the villagers had dispersed back to their houses, many of them remained at their doorways, weapons still in hand. They could not kill a Prince without the Kings revenge falling on them. But she had no doubt that given the chance, they would still kill a Myst if it meant stopping the spread of sickness. The Student sighed and retrieved Storm’s rope from her companion. Without another word she moved after Kelanin, relieved when the animal stepped after her without having to be cajoled.

Arn moved beside her, walking as he had all morning. As if nothing had changed.

‘The caravan travels between the cities. I’ve seen it before,’ he explained. ‘I recognised the colours, a griffin on a blue field.’

‘I’m not going back to a city,’ Lyris gripped the rope a little tighter, ‘I need to get back to the Island.’

‘If we go back to Milany, you can take a boat back to your Island.’

‘You should have told me,’ she hissed. Quiet as they moved into the shadows of two houses.

‘I didn’t want you to know,’ he replied and glanced at her, ‘will you be coming or not?’

Lyris wanted to say no. He had betrayed her trust by withholding the truth. How did a Prince end up in the borderlands with his brothers anyway – the other princes. Where were the now? Where was the retinue of guards and servants to cater to their every whim? The young woman stopped in her tracks and stared at him. This didn’t make sense. Why was he simply not returning to the boat he’d told her about? However she also suspected that if she asked him directly, he would answer and then she felt worried that perhaps he would leave.

He was right, travelling as part of a larger group would be safer. Yet she didn’t want to be dependent on his good graces. The alternative, however, would be to mount up onto Storm and ride into the morning by herself. After a season of a miserable journey, the idea of riding off into the sunrise was less than appealing. There was the rest of the country to return through and more of the same hostility to face. With a traveling Caravan the journey would be slower, but it would be safer. Kelanin hadn’t reacted with the same open anger at her magic. When Lyris tried to remember the woman’s features, she could only see a calm expression; an expectation of things to unfold.

The Student let out a slow sigh before setting off. Storm tramping after her. ‘I’ll travel with the caravan.’

‘I was hoping you’d say that,’ he couldn’t disguise his smile as he caught up with her once more.

‘You’re the strangest Prince I’ve ever met.’

His grin spread across his features, ‘I’m the only Prince you’ve ever met.’