Private Tales Upriver

[Eislyn Gray]

"You know how much I like reading," she replied and released his arm so she could hold up some of the clothes that caught her eye. A skirt of dark green like juniper and pine. Another the color of garnet and berry. And blouses the color of wood, light blue, a darker blue, and off-white.

There was also a pair of dark-brown trousers. She couldn't remember the last time she'd worn such an item of clothing. Perhaps when she'd been riding at the fortress or dressing up and giggling with her sister.

"Such is his privilege for being king," Eislyn finally replied to Rayth. "I don't think they would take me before we find out more about the Duke and his plans. Nor would it be so easy if it was against my will." Eyes flitted in Rayth's direction.

"I was easy on you and the Paragon." Because she believed it was how she'd get the most leverage. And it had, in a way. Rayth had trusted her enough to leave her alone to change and she'd been able to get to the rum. Her hand motioned to the clothes.

"What do you think of these?"

 

[Rayth Keirn]

Rayth snorted. It hadn't felt easy. His attempts to get her to comply with his orders had not gone well. He didn't like to threaten women. When it came to strength of personality he suspected he was always going to come out second best to Eislyn.

"This goes with this and this with that. Get the pants as we might have to ride away from here still."

He grinned and looked down the street towards another stall.

"Can I pick out some jewellery to match?" of offered. It wasn't so romantic when she was the one with coin to actually pay for things. His money was on the Paragon, or with the bank in Alliria. The dodgy one.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

Golden brows shot-up in surprise. Rayth picking out jewelry? If Geelyn were here, she imagined the half-orc would jump at the chance to say some wisecrack comment about Rayth and his tastes. A man could leave the noble life behind but couldn't quite take all the noble out of the man.

Surprise changed to quiet amusement.

"Sure. But nothing too heavy. If we have to go on the run again...," voice trailed off at the grim but likely prospect. She didn't know if the captain of the Paragon would arrive in time. Or if he would even help her and her men. She didn't know if Geoffrey would insist on taking her back to her father if that were the case. She didn't think Rayth and Geelyn could fight off her own men if that were to happen.

Nor did she want either of them hurt. She'd go willingly to prevent further bloodshed. Even if that meant giving up her freedom - or what little of it she had.

Lips thinned.

Moving down the stalls, she gathered the clothing they'd picked along with some dried bread, cheese, and meat. She found a waterskin, and a sturdier looking pack. She didn't want to get too much or make Geoffrey suspicious if he happened to be at the inn when they returned. It would be better if Rayth acted as though he bought all but the clothes for his own supplies.

 

[Rayth Keirn]

Rayth might have disappointed Eislyn with his choice. The only pieces of fine jewellery were almost certainly stolen, or had been dropped off by pirates. He picked something out that he hoped would set off a dress without making Eislyn look like obvious nobility.

He returned to her, holding up one first. He dangled a simple leather string. At the end was a small brass leaf.

"Sorry, its nothing fancy," he apologised. "We should go back soon."

 

[Eislyn Gray]

A shy warmth kindled in her eyes as she looked between the necklace and Rayth. A thousand princes could’ve offered her diamonds and rarer gems of necklaces, rings, and crowns. But she already knew that she’d treasure what Rayth was dangling in front of her over all that. And then some.

Her throat went dry and she tried to hide her feelings. But she was never really good at that.

“Thank you.” She took it and slipped it around her slender neck. Eislyn quickly paid for the rest and offered Rayth the rest to carry, save for the clothes. They’d shopped through lunch and it was close to dinner. Eislyn was quite famished.

“I wonder what will be on the menu tonight and if Marley will be hoping for a large tip again ?”

 

[Rayth Keirn]

Rayth managed to grin out of just one corner of his mouth. He looked more a bashed about this than after anything Geelyn had said. It was only a small gift, but he had taken some time choosing something that he thought would suit her.

He wished that they were out in the wilderness once again. Far from anyone that could judge them, anyone who thought they had a say in their lives.

Rayth took the shopping, keeping a suitable distance to her side as they walked back. Some sea birds had come in, circling overhead and looking for the fishing boats return.

"Keep the purse well hidden," he laughed.

The fire hadn't been stoked inside the inn, but at least Geoffrey hadn't come back yet. He suspected Geelyn would find somewhere else to drink down by the docks for a while.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

Eislyn grinned. "Knowing Marley, I'll have to keep it well within the folds of my dress." The day had almost felt like something normal. The same feeling she'd gotten when she'd woken with Rayth in that abandoned cabin. Standing against him in the doorway watching the deer in the field.

And in that moment, she wished she'd never been born royalty.

No one stopped them or gave them odd looks as they entered the tavern and climbed up those stairs to their rooms. Eislyn was quick to open the adjoining door, ushering Rayth inside so she could arrange the buys of the day. Marley banged on their door.

"ROASTED DUCK AND POTATOES TONIGHT!"

 

[Rayth Keirn]

Rayth hesitated. He had been about to reply and then remembered that this room was Eislyn's. He turned and threw his voice back through the adjoining room.

"Table for four please! Can you check if there is a twin room going spare please?"

"Course!" she replied back happily. As if it would have been any other way with the prospect of more custom.

Rayth tightly wrapped the food with paper and twine in a neat bundle. He helped her get everything packed in case they needed to leave in a hurry. Neither of them spoke the thought out loud. Despite the angry captain of her guard today felt like a reprieve.

Being hunted was not so brilliant an adventure. He would take a day of absolute mundanity over looking over his shoulder in fear.

"Think we have some time before your man arrives?" he asked when they were done.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

"We should," she sat on the edge of the bed, eyes flickering to the full pack stuffed beneath a small, round table in the corner. The fatigue from the last few days and not sleeping well the night before was catching up to her. It felt good to sit for a change.

"Do you think Geelyn and Geoffrey will kill each other if they share a room?"

Hands dropped, fingers idly playing with the metal leaf on the leather cord that hung around her neck.

 

[Rayth Keirn]

"No," Rayth laughed. "I think Geelyn will wind him up and then he'll think the better of starting a fist fight with a half orc in a small room."

Rayth was more interested in having just a little time to themselves. He had a suspicion that whatever came next they were going to get swept up in wider events, clinging to each other just to avoid being pulled apart.

Gingerly, he reached for her hand as she fiddled with the necklace. His hand was coarse from the swordplay and rope work that had taken up so much of his life. He wrapped his around her delicate fingers. Rayth watched their hands intently. It seemed as if what action she took in response to his touch was the most important thing in the world to him in that moment.

It was.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

Her fidgeting stilled with that familiar sand-papery feel around them. Verdants drifted up to meet his eyes. They seemed a warmer green in this light.

Her free hand rose and entrapped his hand between hers. Her thinner digits and paler skin spread out along his hand. Her touch said everything she didn't need to. It reinforced what she'd told him in the caves when they'd been in that pool.

She trusted him.

She was in this with him.

She was glad she was doing this with him. Only him.

 

[Rayth Keirn]

Rayth gave her hand a gentle squeeze. There was contrast between their hands. Rough and smooth, light and tanned.

Rayth did not add his free hand to the others. Instead he reached up, and gently pulled her hair back over her shoulder. His eyes traced the graceful curve of her neck as he cradled the back of her head.

Yet Rayth didn't draw her into a kiss. He leaned into her, gently pressing their foreheads together. With eyes wide open he met her gaze, slowly sharing the air between them with each deep breath.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

The very tip of her nose brushed against his on the inhale. Her own eyes were wide and searching. She never new intimacy could feel like this. Scents of the markets lingered on his clothes and skin. And that slightly briny smell mixed with lavender.

Would he always smell of the sea, she wondered.

The hand over his released her grip, instead rising, palm pressing flat against the side of his face. Thumb brushed along the lower edge of the scar that that ended along his cheekbone. Fingers cradled weathered skin and beard. She allowed herself to really look at him. Notice details of his face she'd never noticed before. The slight twitch of his lips.

 

[Rayth Keirn]

Rayth sat in comfortable silence, even though she was studying him intently. The pair of them hadn't been afforded much time to breathe, let alone take the time to look at who fate had thrown them in with.

He gave her the time to drink it all in. He could see every shift in the expression formed by the shape of her eyes. It was almost like reading someone else's thoughts, but finding out the language wasn't your own. You could see the differences between words, but they made no sense on their own.

"What do you see, when you look at me?" he asked quietly after a while. His voice had rarely sounded so hesitant.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

Her thumbpad paused on his cheek, stopping its stroking motion. Forehead pulled back away. Just slightly from his so she could get a wider view. She caught the vulnerability in his eyes, swirling in his lighter greens. Almost briny, like the sea.

There was a moment of hesitation on her own part. She was seeing the man she never wanted to leave. The man she felt like she could grow old with. Leave the Iron Fortress for.

It was terrifying.

Lips parted. "I see a man who lives for adventure. One who has experienced loss and gone through trials." Fingertips left the scar on his face, smoothing back some of his hair that had broken free from his braid. "Someone who feels the weight of their choices. Someone who is still able to laugh. Bravery. Maybe someone who is trying to understand the woman before him."

 

[Rayth Keirn]

A series of emotions passed across his face in discrete moments: affection, surprise, sadness, anxiety, humour, ardor. Once the series was passed the myriad blended together as he let her explanation sink in.

"You are entirely too observant," he mused, smiling and shaking his head. He only looked away for the briefest of moments before looking back into her eyes.

People rarely saw the full picture and it frightened him that she had so quickly. The crew respected him, but they saw him as coming from a different world. Born with a silver spoon and raised with too many manners. His family saw him as uncouth, having made a world they could not understand his own. He had grown up with ruffians and sellswords. From two worlds and welcome in neither.

"I'm starting to think that I didn't really begin to see you soon enough. That, or you've better eyes than man."

Was it unfair of him to have judged her character so early? Well before her use of magic and tales of home. It hardly mattered now.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

"I don't think you could have," she said quietly before letting her fingertips brush through his wisps of hair once more before falling from his face. Still. His words and what they alluded to made her chest ache. It was something deeper than lust. A longing.

And it was because it was Rayth.

"I was just a job. Someone better not to know."

And she wondered when that changed for him. When she'd talked about the tales and recited poetry? When she surprised him with her clever plan of escape? When she'd insisted on not being pushed around so easily the first night they were attacked on the Paragon? There was something hidden in her gaze as it was her turn for her eyes to flicker away from his. Pink lips twitched at the corners.

"Though, it does make me wonder how many other royals you and your captain took for ransom?"

 

[Rayth Keirn]

"The brave and mighty crew of the Paragon do not make a habit of kidnapping..." he laughed. "Though we did rescue one from a wizard's tower once. Terrible business. Summoned shades to fight us off."

He had started with humour, but it was hard to tell if story was too.

"You were also very bossy, which made me assume a girl who had been handed everything she had ever wanted on a plate. Not someone who had grown that strength out of hardship.

"Anyway, we should go downstairs and make sure Geelyn doesn't wind up your man too much."

 

[Eislyn Gray]

The smile on her face widened.

"Well, if you're not up to the challenge of a girl who knows her mind...," voice trailed off as she pulled away. Her version of his bossy. She stood, trying not to let her mind linger on the feeling of his warm breath across her face as he spoke and the touch of his fingers through her hair.

And as per Geelyn winding up Geoffrey.

"I'm sure we're already too late for that." Fingers came up to pinch the bridge of her nose then quickly lowered, squaring off her shoulders. Speaking of being up for the challenge. "See you down there." He'd get the hint as she left through her door.

She made it to the top of the stairs when she felt a rough hand pull her back on her arm. Geoffrey's urgent voice in her ear.

"Princess. A battalion of the Duke's soldier was spotted moving through town. They came to our boat, first." She noticed something crimson and wet spreading along the sleeve of Geoffrey's shirt. Verdants widened with alarm as he continued.

"I barely escaped to warn you. You need to leave. Now."

 

[Rayth Keirn]

"No..." said Rayth, emerging from the door. No time for proprietary now. Besides, being the day they had clearly been holding council in a room and nothing inappropriate. It didn't matter at all in the circumstances. The chance of leaving the town alive seemed slim.

"...they can't have come so far so quickly. It makes no sense."

He darted back into the room, peering out the shutters. There were several men marching up the street. The Duke's colours. He had seen plenty of them on his harbour when the Paragon had arrived. There was another unit in other colours too. Allies perhaps.

"We need to go out the back way," Rayth hissed, emerging with their bags. Once again, Geelyn would have to fend for herself. No one would be looking for her.

"The Duke must be planning on siezing all the ports along this stretch of coast. They can't have come just for Eislyn. It makes no sense. Damnit."

 

[Eislyn Gray]

She wanted to heal Geoffrey but she couldn't. Fingers twitched at the iron bangle around her wrist. Fear wormed its way from the base of her stomach into her spine. There's no way they'd be here just for her. How had she not seen the Duke's scheming before this?

He was supposed to be a trusted family friend. Hadn't her mother always spoken fondly of him?

"He must be declaring all out war. Maybe siding with Vel Anir." That country was known for being a war machine. She still remembered the warship that they'd passed on the Paragon.

"Geoffrey. If you can make it to my father, please warn him. Don't wear the colors of the Iron Fortress." Geoffrey might then have a shot to make it back in one piece. He looked stricken, gaze traveling between the one he was supposed to protect and Rayth.

"I'd take you back to the Fortress myself if I could M'lady. But I fear your best chance now is with him." He glared at Rayth as if silently threatening the swashbuckler and pleading with the man at the same time.

Take care of her.

Eislyn gently pried Geoffrey's grip off her arm. "Geelyn might be able to help you. If you run into her." Eislyn wasn't sure but made the suggestion. She hated leaving him like this. Injured and alone. He seemed to sense her hesitation.

"You must go. Now." He pushed her gently toward Rayth. Downstairs voices carried up the stairs of soldiers entering the tavern. She quickly shouldered on her bag, grateful they'd gotten them now instead of waiting until the next morning.

 

[Rayth Keirn]

"A back room or the maid's stairs," he hissed. It wouldn't take long for the staff to sell them out. They had seen Eislyn arrive in what were her least regal clothes but she still stood out.

He paused an exchanged a glance with Geoffrey. There was a grudging respect shared between them, mobid in its nature, withheld until they were facing down death itself. Rayth suspected that Geoffrey might not make it out of the town alive.

He marched down the corridor as the clamour of soldiers quizzing the innkeeper came up the stairs. If they ran then their footsteps, loud on the hardwood floor, were certain to draw attention.

Even an old, low budget Inn like this had a maid's door. It was hard to discern against the wall, not quite hidden. He pushed it open and led Eislyn down a narrow spiral stair. No paint or paper over these bare bricks. A corridor at the bottom led to the kitchen and linen room. There was noise in the kitchen, he marched past it. Through the linen room and out into the open behind the building.

"Hey!" called a voice, that was oddly familiar.

"Run!" he told Eislyn. Three shapes moved to their right, so he turned left.

 

[Eislyn Gray]

Eislyn strained to keep up with Rayth. She’d never been physically strong or fast. The most activity she’d had prior to her journey through the spine was romping around with her sister in their fortress’ massive dining halls and ballrooms with forks for swords. She could pretend to keep up with Hannah now. Hurry or the white wolves will get you.

She liked it better when the white wolves were stationary pillows and chairs they weaved around.

The pack thunked against her back as she ran. Blonde hair whipping wildly behind her. No matter how fast she pushed it, she heard the three duke’s men gaining. She couldn’t use her magic here. The duke couldn’t know. No one could know.

And if she’d wanted to, she didn’t know if she could use her magic now anyway.

They weaved across cobblestone streets. Through startled street vendor stalls. Around corners. Away from the docks. Another corner and it was a dead end. Eislyn skidded to a stop behind Rayth, chest heaving. She backpedalled as he did. But it wasn’t fast enough.

The masked men of the duke blocked off their retreat. Swords glinting in the setting sun. Eislyn wildly looked around for a weapon. Anything.

 

[Rayth Keirn]

"Shit," grunted Rayth. Seeing Eislyn looking around he drew a lender knife from his left boot. At the least she might make the soldier who eventually captured her bleed for it.

He drew his own sword. It didn't have a name. None of the swords he had owned had ever been named. He'd never owned anything imbued with magic, but had always used fine cortosi or dwarven steel. Out at sea you learned that what you owned was always less important than staying afloat.

Rayth had imagined he would die with his sword in his hand, just not yet. This had been a grand adventure, but he would be going out knowing that he had failed to protect Eislyn.

The two soldiers flanking the third man advanced, lowering the wicked heads of their pole arms. There wasn't much room to swing such a weapon here, but there wasn't much room for Rayth to get past either.

"Rayth?"

Still hanging back, the third soldier slowly drew his own sword. His armour and weapons were finer than the two men-at-arms. Rayth knew that voice.

"Lithad?" Rayth called back. It couldn't be. The major from his own uncle's cavalry troope. The man who had taught his brother soldiering.

It was all over in a flash. Lithad lifted his sword and brought it down twice. The blade was unerringly accurate, despatching both men.

"What? But..."

"Those are, or were, the Duke of Whelston's men. I remain loyal to the king. And despite your...behaviour...you still share his blood."

Lithad was a tall man, at least a hand over Rayth. It was clear he was in his middle years from the lines on his face and streaks of grey in his hair. Lithad held himself tall and was still broad across the shoulders.

"Why are you riding with..."

"No time for questions. This way, East Gate quickly, it's not being watched."

 

[Eislyn Gray]

They didn't have much choice. Eislyn tried to grasp for reason and logic behind this situation but came up short. She gave Rayth one silent, questioning look but followed his lead and stepped around the motionless bodies. Grip tightened around the borrowed knife as she followed Lithad.

She had her own knife. Hidden inside her skirts. She’d prefer it to remain that way until absolutely necessary. Still. Her father hadn’t taught them self-defense. An error on his part among all the other wrongs.

“How many men does the duke have? And what are his orders?” The young diplomat was trying to way their odds of survival. And what would be the next best step.

And why. Why was the Duke doing this?