River Heart

Chapter Nine - Rest

‘Go on,’ Kelanin ushered from the door and Lyris moved into the dim light. The majority of the floor was cleared although empty crates were stacked along both walls to chest height. Kelanin bustled past and pulled one of the crates down to set beside the bed. With the box removed, Lyris could see the outline of a window and closed shutters that it had covered. The caravan leader pushed open the window and fixed the shutters in place with brass hooks. Light spilled into the caravan which had once been painted a paler green on the inside, though most of the paint was peeling or was covered over by the boxes.

‘Keep them open or keep them closed,’ Kelanin demonstrated the fasten for the window, ‘though it’s bright during the day if you want to rest. Excuse the crates, we weren’t expecting passengers to join us.’

‘What was in them?’ Arn ducked under the door. The space had seemed crowded with just Kelanins’ presence but the prince seemed to take up more than his fair share of room. He hunched so his head didn’t hit the curved roof and shuffled in, Lyris’ pack in his arms. ‘Where should I put this?’ He lifted her belongings.

‘Water, skins of water,’ Kelanin explained, ‘we bought it for the villagers in the hope it would slow the sickness.’

‘A generous thing to do,’ Lyris backed up until her legs met the edges of the bed and she sank down.

Arn edged around Kelanin and pushed the pack into her arms, ‘here,’ he smiled.

‘Thanks,’ she wrapped her arms around the leather bag and watched as Kelanin started to retreat.

‘Rafai is a skilled healer,’ the grey-haired woman lent against the doorframe, ‘usually we trade in whatever one town needs us to take to the next, but it’s hard to refuse my daughter’s husband when he hears of affliction.’

‘They must be very grateful that you visited,’ Lyris smoothed her hand over the soft fabric of her bag and Kelanin rested a hand on her hip, looking between the pair of them.

‘To a point,’ she agreed, ‘the store beneath the bed should be empty if you want to stow your bag, Myst. Get some rest. It’s a long road back to Milany.’

‘Thank you,’ Arn grinned at the woman, fingertips curled around the central beam where the lantern hung. ‘Thank you for offering us safe passage.’

‘Let’s get there first, eh?’ Kelanin winked at him before she descended out of the main door and closed it behind her. If it hadn’t been for the open window, Lyris realised that she would have been afraid that they’d just settled into a trap. As it was, the bed was soft and her eyes were heavy.

‘Do you have blankets?’ Arn perched on a pile of the empty crates, his gaze on the floor.

‘Yes,’ she opened the fasten of her bag and unfurled the top layer of leather. Beneath, her bedroll was intact and untouched from the last time she had used it. The young woman tugged the roll free and discarded the bag on the floor of the wagon. Stray grass and dried flowers scattered with it. It was then that the wheels of the wagon moved and the floor lurched. It was as though someone had stolen Arn’s legs, because they dropped from beneath him and left him sprawled on the floor.

Laughter burst from the young woman before she tried to cover it, holding her hand across her mouth she busied herself with unrolling the blankets.

He scrambled back to his feet, dusted himself off, but even in the thin light from the window, she could see the tips of his ears turning pink with embarrassment. He walked towards her, like a drunk on the deck of a ship, as the wagon gently rolled and settled on a slow pace out of the hanging valley.

‘I was going to borrow a blanket, and sleep on the floor,’ he growled and dropped onto the bed beside her. He rubbed his hand along the edge of his jaw, scratching the growing beard.

‘Oh,’ she held back her smile, ‘but now you want the bed?’

He smiled at her, brows raised innocently, ‘I am but a poor pampered Prince,’ his lashes fluttered, but his voice had lowered.

Certain that he did not want the whole caravan to know his royal status, Lyris rolled her eyes and turned, throwing the blankets that made up her bed-roll, across the bed. It was then that she shuffled back, towards the wall and propped herself up in the corner, toes pointing down the matress. Arn waited a moment before he joined her, his own back to the wall as he sat beside her. His arm nudging hers whenever the wagon moved over a dip in the road.

‘You should have told me,’ she insisted.

‘It didn’t make any difference,’ Arn looked across at her and she felt his gaze burning on her features. ‘I came to rescue you, I didn’t want to talk about my Father.’

It had been a long night without sleep, following a terrifying day. Her limbs were heavy with exhaustion and Lyris edged down the bed, stretching out before she curled up with her back to the young man.

‘I’ll share the bed with you Arn…but only because I think you’ll give yourself a concussion if you sleep on the floor…’ She felt the mattress dip as he extended his own long body and lay down, putting his back to hers.

‘Very generous,’ he mumbled.

‘We’re not done talking, Arnit,’ she warned and stared at the wall in front of her and the shadows the moved over it as the caravan passed through trees and dappled light. Beyond she could hear the birds singing. The wheels rumbled like thunder in the distance.