Secrets of the Night Special Edition (64 page)

She shifted position, easing up closer to the trunk. "About fifteen minutes, I suppose." Her voice caught. "I . . . I . . . Roric, what are we going to do?" she asked, her voice rising. "How will we--"

"Ssh, I'll get you out of here."

"But she's right." Conneid gasped, his breathing labored. "We . . . can't stay here. Malvina . . . give birth, where?"

Roric spoke in low tones. "Here's what we'll do. We'll travel cross country, through the farmland, to Moytura."

"Moytura?" Conneid sucked in a breath. "Guards . . . bound to look there. Long

walk . . . they'll find us."

"Not if we take the back route, away from the highway. We won't walk. Steal horses, two of them."

"Don't know if I can ride . . . or Malvina."

"You can ride, both of you." He tried to inject confidence in his voice, a confidence he didn't feel. "Your wife will ride in front of me. Draft horse would be best for Malvina and me, broader shoulders and back, easier for her." He looked up at the sky, at the full moon's position. "Time to leave! Guards should be far away by now. Daybreak will come soon."

Conneid wiped his arm across his glistening forehead. "After Moytura, where do we go?"

"We'll keep to the edge of the city, continue north to the
Gorm
Forest
."

Conneid wrenched back. "Monsters in the forest! They'll kill us."

"He's right, Roric!” Malvina threw him a frantic look. “We must go somewhere else."

Roric pushed to his feet and gave them both a stern look, reluctant to admit he shared their fears. "Let's quit talking." He motioned to them. "Have to leave." He crouched beside Malvina and helped her rise, his arm around her waist, at the same time keeping a cautious eye on Conneid as the man struggled to his feet.

"The forest!" Conneid persisted. "Can't go there."

"So what would you rather do?" Roric asked, "return to the palace, face torture again? Think of your wife, what they'll do to her! We can't ride in any other direction. It's all open land, warded by the sentries who have, no doubt, spread word of your flight." His voice gentled, a note of calm reason in his tone. "Listen, we don't really know how many
torathors
dwell in the forest, or if any live there at all. Perhaps it's only a story to frighten children. We'll just have to take a chance."

Grateful for the few gold and copper coins in a purse attached to his belt, he nevertheless knew money would gain him nothing in the forest. He hoped their stay there would be short. And if it wasn't? Never mind about that. He had enough to deal with now.

Malvina moaned, another pain coming on. After moments, she spoke with resolution. "Let's leave, then."

Roric led them through the cool woods, and within minutes, they emerged by the grounds of Balor's former mansion, now deserted. Here, to the west of the lawn, the trees were spread farther apart, offering scant concealment. Keeping to the fringe of the woods, they followed a winding path through the trees until they exited close to the
Royal North Road
that led to the capital.

They cut through the open meadow, where isolated huts dotted the land, and the grass grew to their knees, hindering progress. Supporting Malvina and glancing in all directions in search of a barn, Roric maintained a steady pace. He hoped Conneid and his wife could keep up with him. They had to; there was no alternative.

"Stop," Conneid gasped. "Stop and rest."

Roric sighed, dropping his arm from Malvina's waist. "A few moments, that's all." Dread chilled his stomach. They would not reach the capital before daybreak. If Conneid had to rest now, when they'd only started, how could he cover the remaining distance, especially if they weren't fortunate enough to find horses? "Can't waste time."

"Let us trust in Roric, dearest," Malvina said, in a surprising proof of her fortitude. She laid her hand on her husband's arm and spoke in patient tones. "I know it's not easy but we must keep on. If we're captured again . . ."

Recapture? Roric shuddered.
No
!

His gaze covered the meadows that preceded the farmland. "Have to find a barn, get the horses. Be easier for everyone then."

Conneid nodded. "You're right, Roric. Forgive me."

"Nothing to forgive, Conneid." They trudged on through the
rolling meadows
and entered the farmland, where picket fences hindered their passage. Every time they came to a fence, they had to walk far around it, a process that added precious minutes to their time. Hundreds of sheep slumbered on the grasslands, another hindrance they must bypass.

Under the moonlit sky, they skirted bushes and plodded through plowed farmland, the soil rough and uneven. Sandals on Malvina's swollen feet slowed her down, and she often lost her balance, but Roric caught her each time. When Conneid slipped and fell in the rough soil, Roric released Malvina to help him rise again. Silence accompanied them each step of the way, save for the ragged breathing of the escaped captives. They had to stop often as another pain hit Malvina, a time to help her bear the agony.

How much longer could they continue like this? They'd lost vital minutes already from the time he'd left the royal conference room.

"Roric." Conneid sank onto the rough ground, holding his face in his hands. He looked up and spoke in a trembling voice. "Can't go on . . . any longer. Take Malvina, save her . . . and yourself. Leave me here."

"Let's have none of this foolish talk," Roric snapped, hating himself for his harsh words. This was no time for pampering. "We'll keep together, find safety before the night is over." Despite the cool air, sweat coated his face and trickled down his back.

Grimacing, Conneid struggled to his feet and they continued on in silence.

"There!" A short while later, Roric pointed to a barn in the distance, this one large and substantial. "Let's pray to the Goddess they have horses."

The Goddess must have heard their prayers, Roric thought after the three fugitives sneaked far behind a spacious farmhouse and reached the barn. A double side door led them into the interior, where they found four standing horses, dozing in their stalls.

Leaving the door slightly open, his eyes now accustomed to the dark, Roric made a quick appraisal of the animals as he strode past the stalls while Conneid and his wife rested against the wall next to a ladder. He found a draft horse, tall but broad-shouldered, in the second stall and opened the door, wincing when it squeaked.

"You're going on a trip tonight," he murmured to the horse, stroking its neck. A glint of metal against a wall caught his attention. He grabbed the bridle and slipped the noseband on, all the while speaking to the horse in quiet tones. Too well aware of the passing time, he soon brought it from the stall. "Best without a saddle," he whispered as he stopped by Malvina. No time for saddles, anyway.

He bent over and began lifting Malvina to set her sideways, but her bulky condition hindered him. He turned to Conneid, who stood against the wall, looking as if he wouldn’t last the night. "Need your help. Here, raise her legs while I support her upper body. Let's make sure she's centered back far enough, so she doesn't slip off." Despite his weakness, the man did as told, both of them setting his wife securely on the mount.

"Now for you, Conneid . . ." Moments later, Roric found a sleek riding horse in another stall and made the same friendly gestures with it, then led the bridled horse from the stall, so grateful both were docile animals.

"Need something to stand on," Conneid said with a cautious glance at the horse.

"Here, use this." The ladder provided a prop, and with help from Roric, Conneid mounted the horse after several tries. Immediately Conneid slumped forward, resting his head against the horse's neck. With a worried glance at the other man, Roric stood on the ladder and mounted behind Malvina, an awkward procedure that took time. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Let's go!" He pressed his heels against the horse's side and rode through the open door, Conneid following. On horseback, Roric quietly closed the door. Someday, he'd return these animals, but horse thievery was the least of his concerns now.

He supported Malvina with his left arm, his right hand holding the reins. With his eye on Conneid, he kept the horses at a moderate pace.

In front of Roric, Malvina moaned again, one hand pressed across her stomach, the other clenched in the horse's mane. His arm around her waist, he felt her stomach muscles tighten, and his heart ached for the suffering she must endure.

Up steep hills and down into deep valleys, past spreading oaks and bushes they persisted, the uncultivated land rocky and uneven. They couldn't gallop the horses, not in Malvina's condition. Even this speed was probably harmful for her. This was a night for choices, and before daylight he'd know whether or not he'd made the right ones. A cold wind sprang up that sent tree branches swaying but cooled their bodies. Time and again, Roric's gaze was drawn to the moon's sweep across the sky, an agonizing reminder of time's passage.

Past trees and fences that continually confronted them, they drifted into a walk, prompting Roric to slap the horse's side. "Come on, faster!" A glance at Conneid's drooping body, the horse's slow pace, sent a shaft of fear bolting through him. They'd never reach the
Gorm
Forest
before dawn. "We must hurry!" he called to the other man.

“Trying to.” Conneid sat up straighter and dug a heel into his mount's side, and the horse increased his speed to a canter.

Pain and worry etched lines on Malvina's face. "We're not going to make it to safety, are we, Roric?"

"Of course we are!" But he feared Malvina spoke the truth. Images of recapture and torture roiled inside him, a fear so terrible it blocked every other thought. Sacred shrine! What would they do to Malvina, to her baby? And Conneid--would they finish skinning him alive, or would all three of them suffer death by burning at the stake?

Malvina's pains came more often, more intense, too, Roric could tell by her taut muscles straining against his arm. She moaned aloud and bit down hard on her hand. Bile rose in Roric's throat, his stomach clenched. He swallowed again and again.

Conneid reached over and caught Roric's arm. "We must stop. My wife--"

"Stop?" Roric exploded. "Stop, you say? And then what? Have your wife give birth here and now, so that we have a newborn baby to carry?" He regretted the words immediately. "We'll keep going," he said in quieter tones. "Can't stop." Despite his gut-churning fear, Roric

injected a note of certainty in his voice. "We'll make it."

A barking dog emerged from a farmyard and raced after the horses, but soon tired of the chase. Cocks crowed and birds sang from the trees. A rising sun lit the western sky with a lavender glow. Roric's breath came faster, his heart thudding.

"Roric." Malvina groaned, her face twisted with pain. “I . . . I can’t go on much longer,”

she whispered. "The baby . . .”

"You'll have to hold on a while longer," Roric ground out. He pointed ahead. "Look, there's Moytura. Not far now."

The city's towers loomed in the distance, and the ground leveled off. The travelers still kept to the back country, past clusters of houses that edged the city.

"Ahh." Malvina moaned, tossing her head back and forth, thrashing her legs. Talmora's bones! What if she couldn't last until they reached the forest sanctuary? Giving birth was difficult enough--Roric remembered his wife's labor--but suppose they had to stop before they reached the woods? And even if they gained the forest before she gave birth, what then? His frantic gaze swept the area. He looked for an isolated tree, any place away from human habitation, where Malvina could safely have the baby. He saw nothing but wattle-and-daub houses, packed close together, clustered on the city's outskirts.

"Roric." Conneid shot him an anxious look. "We must stop! She's ready to give birth!"

"He's right," Malvina groaned. "Can't last much longer. The baby is about to come." Her waters broke, a gush of warm liquid that drenched Roric's tunic and trousers and ran down the horse's flank. "Oh, no!"

Panic invaded Roric's voice. "Can't you see we can't stop here? People all around us! Dawn is coming. Malvina, you'll have to wait." He ground his teeth and gripped the reins so hard his fingers ached.

Shouts and curses reverberated about a quarter mile to their left, mounted sentries on
Warehouse Street
. Malvina grabbed his arm, her grip like an iron band.

"Roric, no! Don't let them capture Conneid or me. Kill us first!"

"No one's going to get killed!" They couldn't get caught here! If one of the sentries looked their way . . . Praying as he never had before, Roric kept to the right, soon coming to three parallel alleys that led away from the city. Blocked from the sentries' view by an aggregation of shops, they rode single file along the alley farthest east from the sentries.

Leaving the cobblestone streets behind, they came to a long dirt path lined with trees that preceded the forest's edge on a hill. Closer to their destination, Roric increased their speed, knowing they had nothing to lose now and everything to gain by this hurried evasion. More night insects buzzed around them, an irritation he ignored.