Read Changing Fate [Fate series] Online
Authors: Elisabeth Waters
He shifted her slightly so that he could reach his belt pouch, and held something to her lips. It was a honey bar like the one he had given her that morning. “Take a bite of this, there's a good girl."
Akila obediently bit off a small piece and struggled to chew it. It wasn't easy, but she did feel slightly better as it softened and melted in her mouth.
Lord Ranulf took the rest of the bar and wrapped her fingers around it. “Be sure to eat the rest of this before you try to move in the morning. If you don't, I assure you that you really
will
have morning sickness!” He laid her limp body gently down and wrapped Briam's cloak securely around her. “Rest well.” He walked out of the clearing, still in human form.
When she woke, the sun was high in the sky. She lay still, trying to sort out where she was and what was going on. Slowly her memories of the past few days returned: her father's death, the escape from the castle, a fight with a couple of Stefan's men, and advice from Lord Ranulf—but surely a lot of it had been a dream? Her mind couldn't tell her; to it everything seemed equally real or unreal.
There were no bodies in the clearing—if the fight had really happened, Briam must have disposed of them somewhere. But Briam was sitting across the clearing cleaning a sword, there were now three hobbled horses browsing in the trees at the edge of the clearing, and there were more saddlebags piled with their supplies. So the fight with the mercenaries hadn't been a dream. There was also a pile of bloody clothing—apparently Briam had grasped the principle that they needed all the food and clothing they could get. Or maybe after last night he'd decided he wasn't that fond of her wolf-shape after all.
Her current shape was normal human, caked in spots with dried blood—both she and Briam's cloak were going to need washing as soon as she could move. There was a fruit bar turning sticky in her left hand. Briam must have tried to feed her while she was crying, not that she could remember it, but she certainly appeared to have fallen asleep with the bar in her hand. She pulled it toward her mouth and froze. It wasn't one of her dried fruit bars—it was one of Lord Ranulf's honey bars.
She opened her mouth to ask Briam about it, then decided against it. There was no point in worrying him. She wasn't sure she wanted to know anyway. She forced herself bite off a piece of the bar and began to chew on it. Wherever it came from, it was food, and she badly needed food. Her mouth still tasted a bit bloody, but by now she was too hungry to care.
The food helped; by the time she finished it she felt merely seriously ill, instead of dead. “Briam?” Her voice came out as a croak.
"Akila!” Briam crossed the clearing, still holding the sword. “I was afraid you weren't going to wake up. Are you all right?"
Looking closely at him, she saw that he was red around the eyes; either he'd been crying or he'd sat up watching after she fell asleep—or maybe both. But if he'd sat up watching, wouldn't he have seen Lord Ranulf? Her head ached, so she decided to worry about that later.
"I feel stiff, sore, and very tired, but I'll live.” She forced a smile. “How about you?"
He shrugged. “A few bruises—I've had worse. I buried the bodies, but I saved all the clothes and supplies so you could go through them. Was that right?"
"Exactly right.” Akila reached out and patted his hand. “Help me up; I want to go wash the blood off me.” She gritted her teeth as Briam pulled her to a sitting position, then helped her to her feet. She had aches in every muscle she had ever been aware of, and she discovered several new muscles on her way to the stream.
She was glad now that she had slept until the sun was high—this meant that the stream was only cold, not icy, at least in the shallow part near the bank. She wasn't even tempted to change into a water-loving shape; at the moment changing seemed impossible.
I wonder if I can lose the talent if I overuse it?—no, I'm probably just over tired. After what I've been through the last three days, anyone would be exhausted. At least Briam is holding up well.
Her internal voice was still with her.
Of course Briam's holding up well. Why shouldn't he be? He's been fighting in his own shape, not trying to make his mind and various sets of reflexes work together with insufficient practice. He's also gotten more sleep than you have, and done much less worrying—if he's done any!
That seemed reasonable, so Akila turned to the next problem. “Briam, please hand me your cloak and then bring the clothing from the fight over here. We might as well wash it while it's early enough for it to dry before night."
Briam tossed his cloak to her and headed back to the clearing to get the rest. Akila submerged the cloak and started attacking the nearest bloodstain. “If worst comes to worst,” she muttered to herself, “I'll kill a few rabbits and dye the whole thing the color of blood."
"Here.” Briam came back with the clothing. Akila's nose wrinkled in disgust. She seemed unusually sensitive to smells today—was this a carryover from being a wolf?
"Put it all in the water,” she instructed. “Even the stuff that's not bloodstained needs washing. I wish we had some soap."
Briam shrugged. “I didn't know we'd need it."
"Don't worry about it. Even if you did think we'd need it, you wouldn't have had room to pack it. We'll just have to manage with what we do have."
"Umm.” Briam looked thoughtfully at the water. “Are we still going to the ocean? Now that you're not a sword, I mean."
"I don't know—I mean, we don't have to."
"Then where are we going?"
Good question
, Akila thought despairingly.
I wish I knew. Where are we going and what are we going to do with the rest of our lives? Three days ago, I knew. We were going to stay home and Briam was going to rule our estates and I was going to run them. Now Lord Ranulf will do that, and he'll probably do a perfectly good job—he certainly seems highly competent at everything he does. But what are we going to do?
Stalling for time, she asked, “Where do you want to go?"
Briam's prompt answer surprised her. “I think we should go find our kingdom."
"What?!"
"You know, the kingdom that Father said we'd rule. I thought he meant our estates were going to be our kingdom, but I guess they're not, so it must be someplace else."
Akila stared at him in shock.
He's actually been thinking about this—or is he making it the beginning of a ballad?
Briam was obviously expecting a response, so she said the first thing that came into her head. “Father said that you would rule a kingdom, not that you and I would."
"But if I had a kingdom, it would be yours too.” This was obvious to Briam. “We always share things."
Enough of that subject. “All right, where
is
our kingdom?"
Briam looked confused. “Don't you know? You're the one who knows things."
Akila wrung out the cloak as best she could and handed it to him. “Drape this on that bush, please.” She picked up a tunic, obviously from the man Briam had killed; there was a slash in the breast. And they didn't even have a needle with them, let alone thread. Why hadn't she done the packing herself?
Briam draped the cloak, then returned to squat next to her. “Akila?"
What was the question? Oh, yes
. “No, I don't know where our kingdom is.”
Assuming we have one
. “If the Gods mean for us to have a kingdom, they'll just have to arrange for us to wind up there. And in the meantime...” her voice trailed off. She wasn't incompetent; she knew that. She'd run a large estate very capably for several years. But that was a different kind of competence—or at least on a different scale. There she had lots of help, and it was a matter of directing the steward, overseeing the cook and household servants, going over the clerk's account books. If she wanted dinner, she asked what supplies were available and issued orders. “Briam, were they carrying extra food?"
"Yes, quite a bit. And money too.” He hesitated. “There was an extra saddlebag with some of your clothes in it."
"My clothes?” Akila looked at him in astonishment. “Why would a couple of mercenaries be carrying my clothes?"
Briam shrugged. “I don't know. They certainly wouldn't have fit either of them. But at least you can get dressed now. And the money should be useful."
Yes, of course, mercenaries would have money. They probably were paid yesterday. That will help when we come to a town, but it might not be at all wise to do that yet
. Akila had never been outside the castle walls without at least one man with her (well, not in human shape). A lady of her class did not go out without an escort. Presumably other women had ways of managing without armed guards, but she didn't know how. Even with her own clothes available, it might be better if she didn't wear them.
She looked at the clothes spread around her, then down at her body. She was still small and thin, so maybe if she cut her hair she could pass for Briam's younger brother. And now they had two swords and assorted knives. “Briam,” she said suddenly, “will you teach me how to fight?"
"Certainly, if you wish,” Briam replied, obviously totally bewildered by this strange request—if there was one area Akila had never shown any interest in, it was fighting. “But don't you want dinner first?"
After eating as much food as she could possibly hold, Akila dressed herself in Briam's extra clothes. She decided to put off cutting her hair until she absolutely had to. After all, the weather was going to get colder before it got warmer again; if they had to stay out all winter, she'd want long hair. Briam's cloak and the clothes the men had owned were spread out drying all over the place, and most of them would dry by sunset. At the moment their camp was very visible from the air, but the only person who might see it from that angle was Lord Ranulf, and he already knew where they were. She hoped that no more of Stefan's men would come after them.
"Akila?” Briam asked. “Are we going to stay here?"
"In this clearing? I think we'll stay here one more night, but tomorrow I'll look for a better place to camp. We're too much on the road here—and I've no desire to have anyone see me before I've learned to act like a boy."
"Why do you want to learn to act like a boy?"
"Ladies aren't supposed to travel unescorted. Once I can convince people I'm a boy, you can be a traveling minstrel and I can be your apprentice or something, but right now I'd look strange to anyone who saw me."
"I admit you don't look much like a boy to me, but I thought that was just because I know you're not."
"No, I don't look like a boy because I don't sit or move like one. It will probably take at least a month for me to get used to the clothes and the way a boy moves. Even in a short tunic I move as if I were wearing long skirts, and the way I automatically lift the tunic slightly when I climb on top of or over something would give me away to anyone with the slightest perception. You look at me and see your sister, but to anyone else I'd just look wrong, even if they weren't quite sure why."
"Can't you just shape-change into a boy?"
"Well, yes and no. I can change my features—I could change my face to be a perfect match for yours and my body to be the same height and bulk—"
"Then we'd be identical twins!” Briam seemed to like the idea.
"Yes, and we'd also be conspicuous and easy for people to remember. And with my body spread out like that I'd be too fragile. I'd have to lengthen my arms and legs, and that would make the bones thinner and weaker. We don't want that if Lord Ranulf comes after us again."
"Again?” Briam asked, puzzled.
"Never mind,” Akila said hastily. “Besides, it does take energy to change and hold a different shape, and changing from a girl into something that looks like a boy isn't enough of a change—look, when I change into a wolf, I move like a wolf, right?"
"Yes, and when you change into a bird, you can fly."
"Right. Both of those shapes are different enough from my normal one that their reflexes take over from my human ones. But if I change to look like a boy, I'm still human, so the reflexes don't change. If I step over a log, I automatically lift up my skirts a little bit, and until I learn not to do that, I'll do it without thinking. So I'll need some time to learn to stop thinking like a girl and acting like a lady. And you'll need to learn to stop treating me like a lady and start treating me like a little brother."
"How does one treat a little brother?"
"I'm not sure. We'll have to figure something out as we go along. I hope we have enough have time. It's still early autumn. We've got some food, and there will be enough game to feed us for a while. If we find a good location, we can live here quite comfortably for a couple of months, but after that it will be winter."
"A couple of months is a long time to camp out."
"True, but it's not as if we had anyplace else to go.” They sat in silence for a long time.
Another meal and a quiet night's sleep left Akila feeling much better. After a quick breakfast, she told Briam to pack their stuff while she scouted for a good place to stay. Then she changed to eagle form and went aloft. She paused at the tree-top level long enough to check for the presence of large strange-looking creatures who could be Lord Ranulf, but, seeing nothing but clear sky, she continued on up until she was high enough to see a large area.
Most of what she saw below her was either the drab brown of the forest floor or the green and russet of the leaves in the tree tops. The road they had traveled down from the castle was a thin line paralleling the stream. She flew downstream, having no desire to head back toward the castle or the higher mountains behind it. About five miles down, the stream flowed into the beginnings of a river, and about a mile beyond that, another stream ran into the other side of the river. The second stream came down through a marshy area, but beyond that were hills with a good deal of vegetation mixed with rocky cliffs and caves.
This looked promising, so Akila flew lower. The hills had quite a few caves, several of which looked large enough to hold her, Briam, and three horses. The stream was clear, and several of the plants were edible. There even appeared to be enough forage to hold the horses for quite a while.