Story 28. Betrayal (two months later).

They had not been banished to the Wastelands. And no one could be banished anymore. The law Regents had been discussed before questioning Ashka, was about the future status of prisoners in the country. The first labor camp at Orchard riverside was their habitation and the place of doing correctional labor.

Staying in the terrible desert had really changed Correon. Thinking for a while, the Regent got some other Spellbinders involved in the work. Together they created special bracelets controlling the prisoners' moving. As for lawbreakers – they had always been there, the labor camp wasn't empty…

Preparation of fire wood, fishing and drying the fish… There was enough work for them. And the work was hard. The guards were always watching the tasks to be performed and nobody to laze. The Regents were notified about all the results of faults. In the daytime all prisoners were dispersing along the Orchard surroundings, and at night they were gathered in small huts, which the Council had ordered to build.

…The first days had been the hardest ones. The previous fault of Gryvon that made him to work in Clayhill didn't go too far to the past. The young man tried to convince himself his status wasn't the worst one; he preferred to think about it as a life in the village. Just some work, just the tasks… sometimes he succeeded in it. Sometimes not. Ashka, whom he helped, controlled her emotions also with varying success. Sometimes, when her shirt sleeve had been pulled up, the copper bracelet on the right wrist started shining mockingly, reminding her the present status. These moments the woman froze for several seconds, looking at the "jewelry" she couldn't put off with disgust.

During the first days they almost hadn't been talking to each other, getting used to the new conditions, each in their own. It was difficult to have a hut and gloomy guards around instead of the castle chambers and comfort. Performing the orders, in an absolutely mechanical way, Gryvon tried to guess, how long his punishment would be. How much time did he need, in the Council's opinion, in order to be forgiven? Months? Years? The whole life? Treason was a serious crime; he remembered it from the history course. And it would have a corresponding punishment…

"My ring!"

The voice of Ashka, who was washing her face near the water, made him freeze. Standing a little further and wiping away the sweat from his face, Gryvon turned around. The woman jumped to her feet and was putting off her short rough boots. The yong man gave a start. The gift of Gareth, the silver ring, which, despite the Lukan's objections ("The criminals should not have any privileges!") she'd been allowed to keep, the ring Ashka had always been wearing, vanished.

Before Gryvon was able to reach her, the woman ran into the water, slipping on the uneven bottom, observing the fast waves, looking around in a desperate try to find the ring. Putting off his own boots, Gryvon followed her.

"Ashka, wait!"

"I'll find it! I have to!" – She said stubbornly, making strokes through water and taking up only small flat stones.

"Hey, what's happening there? – The other prisoners and the guards, having their dinner at the riverbank, noticed the commotion too. - Where do you think you're going?"

"We've lost something, - Gryvon shouted, turning to them, - so we have to find it!"

"What was it? – Imola asked, being the closest one to the water. - We can help you".

The young man just waved it off, going to Ashka's direction carefully across the river rocks. She'd already been wet from head to toe, but still she kept looking, going further and further from the bank.

"Gryvon, what are you looking for? – One of the guards asked. - It's time to work again, get out from there, you two!"

Hesitating for a moment with no idea what to do, he made a step forward.

"Gryvon! Ashka! Come here now! Stop doing this rubbish! Or do we need to force you come here?"

The young man, not bothered with the call, came closer to the woman.

"Ashka, I'm sorry, - he said quietly, gently touching her wet shoulders, - we won't find it".

"I must, - she mumbled, looking at him desperately; as far as he remembered, she'd had such a desperate look just once, - Gryvon, this is the last thing I have!"

"I know, - he nodded, - and I am really sorry…"

Squeezing her elbow gently, he led the woman to the riverbank.

"Come on, I'll help you with your work".

He hated these staring people right there, hated those stupid guards, which were in no mood as usual, he hated himself right now more than anyone else. He led her back and felt everything was boiling inside him. They do not understand. Nobody will, except him. Nobody knows what "rubbish" it was. The last particle of the memories. The last thing left from Gareth, from that life in the past…

Some days later, when he was taking the firewood into the camp, being hurried by a guard, a horse neighing was heard from behind the trees. Before Gryvon became ready, someone in a powersuit appeared, riding a beautiful white horse. A guard bowed, pushing Gryvon in front of him that made him kneel at once.

"Good afternoon!"

He raised his eyes, not expecting to hear this high voice at all. On the horseback, in Spellbinder habit and a shining powersuit, with her light curls combed back… Nathia was sitting. Beautiful, happy…

"Good afternoon, Gryvon, - the girl repeated, - don't you recognize me?"

Gryvon, pushed by a guard, nodded quickly.

"I do… Spellbinder", - he added slowly, as if trying the suddenly unfamiliar word and how it went together with Nathia. For now it went not too successfully.

The former Apprentice dismounted and gave the reins to the guard.

"Leave us alone".

"But Spellbinder, - the man tried to object, - the prisoner must work. And I can't leave him".

"Didn't you hear me? – Nathia's voice beame louder, her left eyebrow raised. - You'd better look after my horse. Eventually, I've got a powersuit and can watch this prisoner to come back to the camp!"

"Yes, Spellbinder", - bowing quickly, the guard led the horse to Orchard.

"That was skillfully done, - Gryvon gave a whistle, - as far as I remember you said you'd never be able to command other people".

Nathia smiled carefree and shrugged.

"Everybody grows up. As far as I remember, you'd been afraid of exams".

Gryvon grinned.

"Yes… Congratulate you with your initiation, - he looked at her powersuit, - now you look serious".

"Really? Thanks".

They became silent at once, stopping a stock phrases exchange. The girl straightened her powersuit belt and looked at Gryvon again.

"How are you here?"

"Quite all right, - he nodded reticently, - work-break, work-break. Almost as it was in Clayhill".

"Only it is not Clayhill…"

"Oh yes, - he laughed, - there's no big difference except the fact that guards are ready to smash your head for some fault, and the bracelets that enable flying ships to search and explode us".

"Oh, Gryvon, don't say such things! – Nathia mumbled, wincing. - That sounds too terrible".

"That is life, Nathia, - the young man answered, - I have nowhere to run from it".

"Gryvon! – Girl's lips trembled. - Do you want to spoil our meeting with such a talk?"

He sighed.

"No, I don't. But I've got no idea what to talk about. You know how I am. It is all right. You seem to be even more all right".

The girl smiled.

"That's true. But you still don't know why I am here. And it is very important".

"And why?" – Gryvon became interested.

Nathia's eyes shined.

"I want to help you get free from here!" – She whispered enthusiastically, looking around.

The young man froze.

"How do you think it is possible? You want to help me escape?"

"Gryvon, with those ideas of yours you don't even think everything may be done legally? – His companion chided him gently. - is it really necessary to escape?"

He realized he'd lost the thread of her arguments.

"In the name of Regents, how else can I go out from here? – The young man exclaimed. - Don't you think the Council would want to justify me?"

"That's it! – Nathia confirmed. - To justify, Gryvon! You will have everything back – your rank, room, your servants, that previous life!"

He froze, leaning against the tree.

"How?"

"This case, - the girl started speaking, - has too much uncertainty. The Regents sent you to the labor camp, but the questioning had been too superficial. I took the liberty of speaking to the members of the Council…"

"You?" – He couldn't believe his ears.

"Yes, - Nathia smiled calmly, - I convinced them to listen to you once again".

"But two months have already passed…"

"That means nothing. The thing is they almost agreed to listen. Try a little more – and you'll get this right! Tell them it was a mistake, you were crossed up".

"What? – His attention became alert. - What do you mean with it?"

"Gryvon, - Nathia sighed, - agree, this is your chance. Ashka did cross you up, who else? She inspired you with wrong ideas; she made you a pawn in her game. And you believed her. And you didn't want to make anything bad actually…"

"Oh no! – shaking off the rest from him, Gryvon went to the left fire wood. - Nathia, are you crazy? Nobody crossed me up!"

"Gryvon, - the girl made a pleading gesture, - please, come to your senses! I am sure this is a way for you to be free!"

"Stop it, Nathia, I don't want to think about it!"

"And what about me? – The girl stood still, becoming small and fragile at once, just like he saw he for the first time. - Or you don't want to think about me too?"

Coming closer, Nathia put a hand on his shoulder, not bothered with the cleanness of Gryvon's shirt.

'Your hands will be dirty".

"I don't care, - she said shortly, - Gryvon. Don't you like me at all?"

Her enormous eyes were so close, dark blue, calling, pleading.

"Nathia, you are wonderful, - Gryvon said, - and…"

"…and we've always understood each other, - the girl continued his phrase, - remember, I read you my poems, remember! And we were riding horses through this forest…"

He smiled.

"That's it, you're smiling! – Young Spellbinder announced happily. - And do you remember as we used to keep silent and understand each other by doing this? You remember?"

'Yes, - he nodded, smiling, - we were almost children".

"But that doesn't matter, - inspired, she took his hand. Lifted it, touching a work-worn male palm. Then put it to her chest, to the Spellbinder symbol…, - Gryvon, I will do anything for you, I just want to help!"

"I know, - he said tiredly, agreeing, - but…"

"No, - Nathia interrupted him, touching his lips with her finger, - no "buts". Please, don't answer now, all right? Just say you will think about it".

Feeling as of being bounded, he nodded. It was impossible to argue with Nathia, he'd realized it long ago.

"All right, I'll think about it".

The girl smiled.

"Fine. Thank you, Gryvon, - looking back at the road, she waved with her hand, - we have to go back, me – to the castle, you – to the camp".

They went back to Orchard slowly. Carrying the fire wood, Gryvon knew it was useless to argue with Nathia. He'd rather give in. But could he know that behind him two green eyes were watching him from spinney? That Ashka had heard every single word of theirs? That tomorrow two weird strangers will appear in the country, with so Paul-like clothes and pronunciation? That they will appear in a strange boat – a trans-dimensional boat that promised a chance to get free?

Gryvon knew nothing about it, and only the next day, when Ashka, turning to him for the last time, disappear in white-and-blue sparks, taking the boat to a different world, a blow will hit him with its terrible deafening power. She left… That's all.