Page 50 of Deadwood
“It’s not your fault, Auria,” Lander said across from me in the carriage.
“I know.” He’d told me at least a hundred times.
“Then why are you moping?”
I looked up from my lap to find his eyes on me. “I’m not moping.”
“Two and a half weeks with you, and you think I can’t tell the shift in your mood?”
How did he expect me to feel? I’d been so excited to leave Amosite, even for just a few weeks, and with each day that passed, that spirit was being pulled out of me. I didn’t take any of this for granted, and yet, I wondered if I hadn’t left the kingdom at all, would I feel better? After all, I couldn’t be hurt by things I didn’t know.
I folded my hands together on my lap, attempting to straighten my posture, despite the wheels of the carriage shifting on each bump in the snow we passed over. I was thankful the strength vial I’d refilled this morning was enough to keep the queasiness from setting in so far. The Brimstone Mountains, as Lander had informed me, were treacherous to pass no matter the time of year. The weather conditions were so severe that many didn’t take the risk, but the guards had wanted to return to Amosite as early as we could, so they hadn’t chosen the longer route that went around the base of the mountain. “As if yours hasn’t shifted, too.”
Outside the carriage, the howling wind was deafening, and I was thankful for the thin barrier between us and the elements.
“For all different reasons,” he said.
I raised a brow. “Is that so?”
He crossed his arms, leaning back against the cushion. “Marriage is a leash.”
This time, both my brows shot up. “You think I’ll force you to give up what you love?”
“Why would a wife be okay with her husband gambling?”
I fought the smile threatening to bloom. “If you haven’t yet realized, Lander, we are not a common husband and wife duo.”
The stiffness of his arms loosened slightly. “You won’t force me to stop?”
I shook my head. “You can do whatever you’d like. If the roles were reversed, I’d hope the same.”
“But your father already controls you,” he surmised, pulling the unsaid words from my mouth.
“Yes,” I said softly. I wouldn’t allow my father to ruin this trip, even from miles away. Though the people of the kingdoms we visited were all too eager to judge me for his actions, I refused to let it get to me. Not here. Not when this was my one chance to be away from Amosite, and I only had days left. “Do you know when we’re stopping next?”
“I’d assume not until sundown. The weather isn’t kind out there,” he said with a glance out the window. We’d pulled the curtain back, giving us some light in the dim carriage, though the thick snowfall blocked almost all of the sunlight.
To get from Feldspar back to Amosite, it’d take at least two days to get over the Brimstone Mountain range with the deep snow covering the ground, slowing us down tremendously. Once we made it down, it’d take a day to reach the bridge over the chasm. That’d leave us with one day to spare, but still, the guards were worried about time.
Lander had opted to travel in the carriage today. He’d insisted it wasn’t because of the weather conditions, but I knew better. Two and a half weeks with him taught me some things, too. I’d done my best to avoid Paxon for the duration of our trip, but with every stop, he was there, assisting me down from the carriage. He’d been mostly polite since our game of croquet in Torbernite, ever the gentleman, but regardless, I was still skeptical of him.
“If you need to relieve yourself…” Lander started.
My nose scrunched. “Please. If I did, you’d be the last I’d tell.”
He grinned. “Who would be the first?”
I returned the smile, rolling my eyes, but the look quickly disappeared when the carriage jerked to a stop. Lander set a hand on the wall to keep himself steady as my hands gripped the cushions on either side of me.
“I guess we’re stopping sooner than sundown,” Lander muttered.
Shouts rang out from behind the carriage, and then the clang of metal on metal filled my ears. Realization hit that the sound was coming from swords.
Lander stood as best he could, having to remain ducking so he wouldn’t hit the ceiling, and looked out the window. “We’re under attack,” he said hurriedly, confirming my fear.
I looked at him, eyes wide, but before I could ask him what we should do, the carriage door flung open. It hit the outside of the coach with a bang.
Hands reached in and grabbed Lander by the coat, yanking him out. A gasp escaped my lips as my legs came up on the bench, shoving myself backwards to press my back to the wall of the carriage. My eyes remained on the opening of the door. Snow blew in on the howling wind, but no one appeared. Chaos ensued outside as I tried to calm my breathing, but it was no use. I wasn’t trained to fight, and I was now alone.
