Duty's Choice: The Bastards of Ferelden - Chapter 32
Something Happening Here
On the Road – Spring 2, 24th day
Something was wrong. Elinora couldn't place her finger on it, but after two days of travel, something was very, very wrong.
There were many reasons that women didn't travel this heavy with child. Not only was it unbearably uncomfortable, but she had to stop them to pee every twenty minutes. That was much easier said than done, what with the joys of getting in and out of the cart. It had slowed them down quite a bit. As it was, they were going much slower than Rainer wanted to.
But that wasn't the problem. If they were on the Coastlands Road, like they supposed to be, she should be smelling the tang of sea air. The terrain wasn't right. The forest was thinning and the land rolling downward, instead of getting rockier.
For the third time that day, Elinora peaked under the canvas of their wagon, trying to get her bearings.
And she finally did, only too well.
She closed her eyes, and then looked again, just to be sure.
Outside, a wizened pine tree squatted next to a boulder almost as tall as she was.
"Petra," she whispered, fighting down the panic, "Petra wake up." The mage stirred from the corner of the cart in which she and Caitlin were dozing, his little head pillowed on her bosom.
Elinora had been right; the boy had cleverly hidden himself in the corner of the cart, under the driver's bench, squeezed between the feather bed and wall, under the bench. And for some reason, he wanted to stay hidden. Right now Elinora was grateful for it, and Fergus owed her five silvers.
Petra blinked sleepy eyes at her. "What?"
"We're going the wrong way."
The mage gaped in disbelief. "Are you sure?"
Elinora nodded and the memories came flooding back.
The sun was starting to show itself off to the east when she tripped and staggered. Duncan turned in time to see her fall hard onto her hands and knees. They'd been running for hours, first through the forest, lit by the fires of Highever, then onto the main road that wound south toward Ostagar. At some point they'd come to the crossroads where this southern route met the great Northern Road, but kept running south, not even pausing. For Elinora Cousland, the journey had been a blind bolt from the only home she'd ever known.
The shock of the fall broke the spell of numbness. She saw first her hands; clenched so tight they had drawn blood as the nails dug into her palms. But there was so much blood. Some of it was hers, but much of it wasn't. Some of it was her father's, but most of it came from the men she had killed that night.
She had killed.
The gorge rose quickly up her throat. She had just enough time to throw herself out of the road and into a heavily knotted pine tree. She emptied her stomach and wept.
Duncan approached her slowly and silently. When it seemed the worst had past, he offered her a waterskin. She took it, standing upright too fast. She staggered against a massive boulder, putting her back to it as she rinsed the foulness from her mouth then took a proper drink. The water was cool and sweet, soothing her ragged throat and easing her still churning stomach. She passed the skin back and pushed herself off of the boulder.
Elinora stayed upright this time, refusing to show weakness to Duncan again. One foot in front of the other, all the way to Ostagar.
They were heading south, into the Bannorn. Toward the Tower.
Elinora looked to Petra and found her staring at the canvas that covered them, watching the shadows of the lessening trees. "I'm sure there's a good reason for it."
Elinora thought about it and couldn't come up with one. "Cailin, hide." He followed her directions as she pounded on the driver's bench.
"Again?" came a gruff voice from outside. The cart came to a stop.
Barth and Sten flipped up the back flap as she scooted out. They lifted her down. She stood stretching for a moment as Rainer marched over. "What's wrong?"
She smiled her most charming smile at him. "The little one seems to think my bladder is a punching bag. I'll be right back." She toddled off into the bushes.
Definitely the wrong way.
She returned to the group a short time later, walking up to Rainer, trying to keep her expression neutral. "Pregnancy has turned me completely fluff-brained. I'm all mixed up here. Which way are we going? It feels like south to me, but Amaranthine is east."
Rainer looked at her and blinked. "We're going east." He looked up and around him, his expression becoming confused. "I think. Yes, east." He looked back to her. "To Amaranthine."
She saw it. For a split second Rainer's eyes had flashed gold
The bottom dropped out of her stomach, and was kicked back up by the baby. "I see," she said flatly, and returned to the cart. As Sten took her arm to help her back in, she asked him, "Which direction are we going?"
He gave her that look he always had when she asked what he considered a stupid question. "East, to Amaranthine."
That look was all she needed; there was a gold glaze to Sten's eyes. He herded her back into the cart.
"Well?" Petra asked.
Elinora chewed her lip. "I need to think." Easier said than done. She hadn't been kidding about being fluff-brained.
Cailin peaked out once they started moving. His quiet, clear blue eyes looked into hers.
She had to do something.
By the time they stopped for the night, Elinora had a plan. Just not a good one.
Somewhere in the middle of third watch, Elinora peaked out of the back of the cart, both her transportation and sleeping quarters, to find the Warden on watch dozing. Third watch always fell asleep.
Carefully avoiding the sleeping Petra, she pulled aside the flap that covered the driver's bench. She looked to Cailin. He smiled bravely and nodded. She pulled him close and kissed his forehead, and boosted him on to the driver's bench. Silently, he slipped from the bench, to the floor and then to the ground. With one backward glance, he headed north at a dead run.
Elinora fought the tears down. He would make it. He should reach Highever in a day. He just had to stay to the road, keep going north, tell Fergus what had happened. But as his small form vanished into the darkness, she wanted to call him back and keep him safe.
She crawled back into her bed, the tears finally winning. What kind of mother sent her child into the wilderness with only a simple direction and a prayer? Cailin didn't even have a water skin or anything to eat. He could get kidnapped or lost.
Small reassurances slipped through her mind, but they found no purchase. He was a clever boy and fast. Highever wasn't that far away and he had a road to follow. Nothing eased her worry; it just shifted as the baby within her moved.
She was a terrible mother.
No mother in her right mind would put her unborn child at risk this way. She shouldn't have done this.
But it was done.
If experience had taught her anything, it was to deal with the situation at hand. No living in a regretted past. No whining about things that couldn't be changed. She had to work with what she had, which at this moment was a small boy and a delicate condition.
Three days. Maybe two if Cailin was quicker than she thought and Fergus could get his troops moving. She could wait that long for rescue, maybe find out what in the Maker's name was going on.
It wasn't much, but it was something.