By the time Chaeron was done, Wolfe’s face was hard as stone. With an efficiency and lethal determination that demonstrated just why he was Captain, Wolfe rounded up a group of ten men and they mounted their horses. As they cantered towards me, I stood to the side and kept my eyes on the grass. I saw Wolfe’s horses’ hooves come into view and then stop.
“Next time, ask me before you offer my services,” his harsh voice caught me by the back of the neck and tipped my head upwards.
I scowled at him. “Are you saying you would leave them this way?”
He frowned back at me. “You know I wouldn’t. But I don’t appreciate taking orders from you, Lady Rogan.”
My apologetic smile was brittle. “Apologies. It won’t happen again.”
Again, seeming startled and disappointed by my compliance, Wolfe nodded and began to pull away. Just as I was relaxing, sure Wolfe would take care of the issues the villagers had put forth, he threw over his shoulder, “I’m fining Den Hewitt for assaulting you.”
“But I don’t want that!” I cried, rushing to catch up with him. I could see the other men trying to look uninterested in our exchange. “You can’t do that!”
Wolfe drew to an abrupt halt and glared down at me. “I can do anything I want, Lady Rogan. I am the Captain of the Guard.” He seethed, his face mottled red with anger. “He assaulted you, Rogan, and that I will not stand for.” Abruptly he turned and jerked his reins, galloping over the bridge and into the village, unmindful of his surprised Guard who took off after him. Surprised by the abrupt departure? No.
Surprised that in front of them, Wolfe had betrayed his feelings… and used my given name.
***
It was with a mixture of relief and pain I realised Wolfe had had enough and was no longer speaking to me. He returned to camp some few hours later and told Chaeron what had happened. I tried to eavesdrop, but the collective snoring of the Guard drowned out their voices.
The next morning Wolfe refused to look at me, let alone speak to me, and as we moved off away from the village, I had to ask Chaeron for the details of Wolfe’s venture into the village.
Apparently Den Hewitt had not exaggerated. After investigation, Wolfe discovered the Manager of the mine, a wealthy Baron no less, was working the villagers to the bone to keep up with the competition from the local mining communities surrounding them. Discovering sick children and ill workers, worn out and hopeless, Wolfe was furious. The village had had two deaths in the last month. Exhaustion and dehydration. He fined the Manager (and Den Hewitt) and threatened him with criminal charges if he did not return to the normal working procedures. To ensure his obeisance, Wolfe left two of his men to guard the workers and sent a messenger to Vojvodkyna Winter Rada explaining the situation, and asking her to send some of her men to relieve the Royal Guardsmen and to order a replacement Manager for the mine.
I rested easier knowing Wolfe had taken care of it. I had known he would. I sighed wearily and stared straight ahead, worrying about what we would find in the next village we passed through. I had so much to tell Haydyn once she was awake and well. Our problem wasn’t just the evocation. Our problem was that outside the cities governed by the Rada, the people were ignored and left to go about their business ungoverned. That had to change. I straightened my spine with determination. When this journey was over and my task complete, Phaedra was in for some changes. For the better.
Chapter Twenty One
To my utter relief, the next few days through Daeronia passed uneventfully. We stopped in two other mining communities, and neither of them was suffering under the conditions of the first. From their disposition to the state of their homes, to their fervent hospitality, they were fire to the southern coal mining village’s ice. And I? I was confused. Perhaps I had merely wanted to put the Manager of the coal mining village attitude down to Haydyn’s evocation, but the northern coal miners had great attitudes, and surely if the evocation waning was the problem then they would be the ones to feel the affects more so than the south.
My forehead spent a lot of time in a perpetual state of wrinkles.
The situation with Wolfe hadn’t changed. If anything it had worsened. Anything he had to say to me he had Lieutenant Chaeron pass on to me, and the night we dined in the home of the Manager of a large coal mining town called East Winds, Wolfe flirted with their twenty-year old daughter as he ignored my existence. I ignored the fist of agony in my chest. His attitude was of my own making and I had no right to feel anything toward him.
We had been following the River Cael and were closing in on the border between Daeronia and Alvernia. My stomach had now formed into a constant knot of anxiety, the need to get to the Pool of Phaedra an obsession, sharp and unrelenting. I was impatient when Wolfe stopped us by the river for our midday break, and was about to voice my disgruntlement when I remembered I hadn’t spoken to him for three days. Plus, it was unseasonably hot, not even a wisp of that crisp Daeronian breeze that I had come to love. Telling Chaeron I needed a moment alone, I wandered along the river bank that flowed on the left side of the trade road, as the men gathered near the woodland on the right. They stopped, sliding down to lean against tree trunks and eat the hard biscuits that had come to form their unsatisfying daily diet. I was still in sight, but I used the horse to cover me as I took off my shoes and stockings to dangle my feet over the bank into the river. I sighed at the havenly feel of the cold water on my skin and thanked god I hadn’t had to walk too much. My stupid soft ‘lady’s’ feet would be ruined. Reluctantly, I pulled my feet out of the water and reassembled my clothing before Wolfe sent someone to collect me. However, as I walked back to the men, my eyes darting over them, there was no sign of Wolfe… or Chaeron. Puzzled, I searched them out. Where were they? Just as I was about to draw near the first group of men I caught a flash of colour from the corner of my eye a little way in among the trees. Wolfe’s green military jacket. He’d had to borrow it from one of the Guard, who now wore a plain jacket provided by the Vojvodkyna. Curious as to why Wolfe and Chaeron were huddling in the woods, I eyed the men to see if any were watching me. I was somewhat disappointed to see that none of them were.
That was brilliant guarding for you.
Rolling my eyes, I snuck away from the men and edged closer to Wolfe and Chaeron. Leaving my horse, I stopped a few trees back from them, hidden in the shade.
“I just don’t know if it’s a good idea,” Lieutenant Chaeron exhaled.
“I have to,” Wolfe insisted, his voice flat.
“I could do it.”
“No, it has to be me.” Wolfe shook his head. “If Rogan’s going up into the mountains then I’m going to be the one protecting her.”
Chaeron sighed again. “Things are difficult between you as it is.”
“I know. But I won’t let my feelings get in the way of my duty. Which is to protect her.”
“What will I tell the men?”
“Tell them I’ve taken Rogan on a tour of Alvernia, to let her see for herself what the area and the people are really like, so she can report back to the Princezna.”
“They’ll think it’s insane. They’ll wonder why you’ve gone alone. Perhaps even speculate…”
“If any one of my men utters a derogatory word against Lady Rogan I want you to deal with them.”
Chaeron sucked in his breath as if insulted. “You know I would, Captain.”
“Good. Tell them the Alvernians are paranoid, suspicious. A Royal entourage traipsing around their land would be seen as an act of aggression; tell them that Lady Rogan and I are going incognito.”
“Alright.” There was a moment of silence between them before Chaeron peered at Wolfe with genuine concern. “Wolfe,” he said softly, surprising me and Wolfe by using his given name, “You’ve never been into the mountains. A few of the men here have. They’d be better suited to escort Miss Rogan.”
Wolfe shook his head determinedly, his jaw set. “I won’t let her go into that without me…” he shoved a hand through his hair in obvious frustration, appearing vulnerable and lost. “It would drive me crazy.”
Chaeron placed a hand on Wolfe’s shoulder. “Alright.”
I backed away as stealthily as I could, the blood rushing in my ears from what I had overheard and the blood flooding my cheeks for having been eavesdropping. I walked numbly back to the men with my horse beside me, and saw nothing and heard nothing as we mounted back up and set off. Wolfe was furious with me but he still cared. Cared enough to foolishly follow me into the heart of the Alvernian Mountains where the chances of us both coming to harm was great. No. I shook my head, ignoring Chaeron’s concerned looks. I wouldn’t go into the mountains with Wolfe. I had to keep my distance. I had to stay focused on finding the plant and I couldn’t do that if I was worrying about Wolfe.
I had to get away from him somehow.
When we reached Arrana I had to leave and set off into the mountains alone. It didn’t matter if I had an escort or not. Only I knew the way to the Pool of Phaedra and my magic would get me there without getting me lost. I just had to be careful and remember the route up so I could get back down the mountain without fault.
***
That night, we made it to Arrana. Smaller than the other cities, Arrana was also more heavily fortified, with a massive fifteen foot wall snaking around its border. Like one of the keeps used thousands of years ago when the mage first came to Phaedra, the city had a moat and drawbridge, and armoured guards. We had to wait for permission to enter, and as we crossed the sturdy bridge into the city walls, I frowned in disapproval. There were no wars in Phaedra. No need for city walls and moats and drawbridges. I understood the Vojvoda was nervous of the mountain people of Alvernia - I was nervous of them and I had to walk right into their midst - but his fortification sent the wrong message. It isolated Arrana; it made it a lone entity, and broke it from Haydyn’s Phaedra.
What must the people of Alvernia think? Or any people who crossed the border into Alvernia? It was unwelcoming and superior. Worse… it was aggressive.
This too would have to change.
***
This would never do, I thought glumly, watching Markiz Andrei follow the servant girl’s bosom with his eyes whilst his father, Vojvoda Andrei, tried to convince me that his son would be a brilliant match for Haydyn. I found it difficult swallowing my fish as I dined with them. I studied the junior Andrei as he smiled at me and I bemoaned the vapidity behind his eyes. The poor boy wasn’t lascivious or cruel. He was just… silly and… well not very intelligent. He was so wrong for my Haydyn. Haydyn needed someone as clever and as passionate as she was, someone who stood up for her and to her.
Someone like Matai.
All of a sudden I felt unbearably sad.
I let Wolfe and the Vojvoda do all the talking. I smiled enough so as not to seem unpleasant and bored, but I was sure the Vojvoda was puzzled as to why Haydyn would send an advisor on her behalf who had barely opened her mouth once to speak. But I felt buried by the troubles of Phaedra. Buried and useless. I needed Haydyn to wake up. I had needed her to wake up before she fell ill. I only hoped that she would, once I provided the cure and told her all I’d learned. To begin with, marrying Andrei would be a terrible mistake.