Sir Rowan and the Camerian Conquest (9 page)

“Are you real?” His voice quavered. “Or am I dreaming again?”

Shadows danced off the woman’s face as she scrutinized him.

“I am real,” she said carefully, “and you are not dreaming.”

“They said nothing could stop the caterpillars. How did you …?”

“I fell onto the white path that led here. They wouldn’t come onto the path. I think it is covered in salt. Perhaps that’s what kept them away.”

The woman took a deep breath as if to shake the jitters from her. “It was quite ghastly, lying there for hours, hoping those nasty things wouldn’t eat me.” She made a disgusted face, then narrowed her eyes. “You said you were trapped, not chained,” she said. “Why are you here?”

“Marauders killed my men and stole everything. They are … were holding me for ransom.”

The woman raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“I swear it is true,” Rowan said in desperation.

After a moment of silent contemplation, she seemed to grow anxious. She looked behind her as if she might leave. Rowan held out his hand.

“Please … please don’t leave me,” he pleaded. “They left me to die days ago—at least I think it was days. Please help me.”

The woman settled a bit, looked at Rowan once more, and took a deep breath as if to accept the duty.

“My name’s Mariah.”

“I am Rowan … of Laos.”

His name clearly meant nothing to her. She set the lantern down and cautiously approached Rowan, the shovel before her. When she saw his emaciated state, she relaxed her guard. Rowan stared at her as if she might disappear at any moment. When she hesitated, he broke his gaze and lifted the chains.

“They are strong—too strong to break, I fear.”

“Perhaps we can dig the stake out,” she offered.

“I have tried to do that with my hands, but the ground was too hard. It is worth a try with the shovel.”

Mariah set to the task. Rowan could offer no help. It wasn’t long before it became obvious that her digging was not working.

Mariah swiped beads of sweat from her brow. “It’s impossible,” she said. She sat down, deep in thought. “At the entrance to the cavern there were things strewn about. Perhaps the keys to your locks are there.”

She set the shovel against the wall and lifted the lantern. Rowan felt sick at the thought of being left in the dark again. She looked at him and seemed to read his thoughts.

“I promise I will come back.”

“Thank you, Mariah,” he said quietly.

Mariah gave a quick grin and nodded, then disappeared into the outer cavern. Rowan waited anxiously until she appeared again.

“Were there keys?” he asked.

“No, but I found this.” She held up a long stake, similar to the one Rowan was chained to.

“How will that help us?”

Mariah inserted the tip of the free stake into the chain link closest to the ground and began to twist the link until it was bound upon itself. Then she used the stake as a lever, putting all of her weight on the other end. After two tries, the link snapped, and Rowan was free. He stayed sitting on the ground for a moment, wondering if he remembered how to stand erect. He slowly stood up, but his knees buckled. Mariah reached out to steady him.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

Rowan closed his eyes and nodded. “But I’m not sure that I can walk.”

“Here, I’ll help you.” She positioned herself under his arm so that he could lean against her. Then, very slowly, they moved along the white salt path that led to the front of the cavern. Hundreds of moths circled above but did not come close enough to threaten them.

They finally reached the cavern entrance. Rowan fell to his knees and turned his face upward to the blue sky. He blinked, nearly blinded by the late afternoon sun, but still rejoicing in his freedom. Mariah left him there and retrieved her horse. She rummaged in the saddlebags and handed him her water bottle and part of a biscuit.

He started to guzzle the water, but Mariah pulled it away from him.
“You must go slowly, or you will be sick.” She seemed fairly appalled at the sight of him now that she could fully see his feeble, filthy state.

Rowan nodded and took small nibbles of the biscuit, followed by shallow drinks of water.

“You ride Sierra,” Mariah said. “Once we get to my farm, we’ll get the rest of your chains off.”

Mounting the horse was problematic because of Rowan’s physical state and his leg chains, but with Mariah’s help he finally managed to perch sidesaddle and lean heavily on the animal’s neck. Exhaustion was quickly overtaking him, and he wondered if he would even be able to ride very far.

With frequent stops and much patience on Mariah’s part, they finally made it to her farmhouse. Rowan nearly fell from the horse, not caring if he even made it indoors, but Mariah refused to give up. She all but carried him inside and to a bed. The glorious softness of the mattress beneath him pulled him to slumber. He was vaguely aware that Mariah was occupied with various tasks nearby, but he didn’t care. He just hoped that the bed wouldn’t fade to rock and dirt again.

HOMEWARD BOUND

When Rowan awoke, at first he didn’t dare open his eyes.

Please let this be real
, he pleaded within himself.

Then the delightful sound of Mariah’s voice filled the air with song and his heart with gladness. He finally opened his eyes to see the beautiful smile of his rescuer.

“Good morning,” Mariah said.

Rowan filled his lungs with delicious air.

“I have a surprise for you.” She lifted his hand into the air.

The shackles were gone. He looked at his feet, and they were unfettered too.

“I don’t know how I can thank you.” Rowan rubbed his abraded wrists and looked up at her. To him, at that moment, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Blue eyes peered at him from behind loose tousles of dark brown hair. She was tall, slender but strong, and though the features of her face were feminine, they were also quite distinctive, with high, slanted cheekbones and a generous mouth that revealed dimples when she smiled.

“Why don’t you sit up if you can?” she said. “I have some breakfast for you, but you must remember to eat slowly.”

Mariah helped him sit up and propped a pillow behind him. Then
she brought a tray with a glass of diluted juice and a small bowl of warm corn mush with stewed fruit. To Rowan it looked like a meal fit for a king. He looked back up at Mariah. She smiled and tilted her head, then sat down in a chair next to him.

“Do you have a family here with you?” he asked, peering down the hallway behind her.

Mariah hesitated. “Since you’re certainly not much of a threat right now, I guess I can tell you I am alone here.”

“I’m sorry to be such a burden to you,” Rowan said. “I’ll leave straightaway.”

Mariah raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t make it ten feet past the front door in your condition. You can stay in this spare room until you’re strong enough to move about. After that, I’ve an outbuilding that would suit well until you can travel.”

Rowan nodded. “I’m very grateful for your kindness.”

“When you’re ready, there is water for washing … and some clothes in the armoire.” Mariah nodded with her head to the corner of the room.

Rowan glanced at the armoire and back at Mariah with a puzzled look on his face. She dropped her gaze to her hands. “My husband died late last summer.”

“I … I’m sorry,” Rowan said.

Mariah nodded and blinked back tears, then forced a smile. “I’ve considered leaving the farm and joining my family, but that seems like giving up on Palson. He worked hard to build this farm, and we’ve only been here two seasons. I just can’t leave—not yet anyway. I’ve decided to try it one season, and then … I’ll know.”

“You’re a courageous woman, Mariah.”

She blinked again, took a deep breath, and looked at Rowan. Her eyes narrowed. “So what’s your story? Where are you from?”

Rowan carefully lifted the glass of juice and drank. He could feel the cool, soothing liquid run down his insides and settle into his stomach. It was a strange sensation.

“As a child, I was an orphan, living on the streets of Laos. But then I met a man who taught me about the Prince.”

Mariah’s eyes opened wide. She leaned forward and put her hand on his arm. “The King reigns…,” she began.

“And His Son,” Rowan finished.

“So you’re a Follower too?” she asked

Rowan dropped his gaze. “Yes … but not a very good one.” He looked back into her eyes and saw no condemnation.

“Sir Aldwyn took me under his tutelage and taught me the ways of the Prince and of the sword.” Rowan paused to take a bite of his corn mush. “I learned them well, especially the sword. After four-and-a-half years of training, I began to participate in the tournaments.”

At that, Mariah looked confused. “Why?” she asked.

Rowan wasn’t sure how to answer. She had obviously never heard of him, and he found himself grateful for that. “Because I was a foolish young knight seeking fame and fortune.” He grimaced and turned away for a moment.

“So,” Mariah asked teasingly, “did you find it?”

He looked back into her eyes.

“Yes.”

Mariah’s smile faded as she realized that he was not kidding.

“I know it is hard to believe, considering how I look now.” Rowan lifted a wasted arm and shook his head. “But before my capture, I was quite strong. I fought in many tournaments and eventually became the champion of Laos. I was on my way to fight in the Camerian Games at Kroywen when I was taken by the marauders.”

Mariah slowly straightened in her chair. Rowan wondered if she believed him. His story sounded far-fetched even to him. Nothing was said for a while as Rowan took another drink of juice and finished a few spoonfuls of mush.

“I will be able to pay you for your trouble once I get back to Laos,” Rowan said.

Mariah reached for the empty tray across Rowan’s lap. “Palson said we shouldn’t accept payment for kindness, especially from those who are in need.” She stood and started toward the door. “You are welcome to stay as long as you like, provided you behave yourself.”

It took Rowan a week before he felt he had regained enough strength to move about and relocate to the outbuilding. He still fatigued easily, but he could feel his strength steadily returning. Mariah’s care was unfaltering, and Rowan became more and more grateful to her every day. Hearing her sing in the morning was perhaps his favorite experience of each day, for it was a reminder that he was indeed free from the torture of evil men.