Another day on their journey, and few questions are answered. Edvard begins to wonder if Mina indeed has no answers…
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They made good progress the next day and traveled late into the evening. Edvard had pushed their journey, not wanting to tax Mina's lagging strength, but trying to compensate for the previous day's slackness. She didn't complain, sitting behind him on the gelding, her hold on his shirt looser than before. She seemed a little more at ease on the horse, not clenching with the white-knuckle grip she had had previously.
He looked over to Yuila, who was humming as usual, debating if returning her was as good an idea as it had first seemed. When he came upon her at the edge of camp a few days ago, taking her home had seemed the perfect proposal to sharing a little of Elian's light.
"Sorry," Mina said as her knee dug into the back of his leg as she shifted on the horse behind him.
He glanced down at her leg, liking the way her bare foot rested behind his calf. "Doesn't bother me."
He felt her turn to look at the Crone, then back to look over his shoulder at the trail ahead.
For the last month the Sammis camp had been visited by nearly every noble family within riding distance. His brother's eighteenth birthday brought gifts of tribute even the royal heirs to the kingdom would have envied. And it would only get worse as the main feast week approached.
Elian would inherit half of Sammis' wealth upon their father's death, and the rest of the inheritance would be divided among Edvard and his younger brothers, with Edvard getting a double share. It would be enough to see them all through their futures; that wasn't why Edvard wanted to pursue his own acknowledgment. Being second-born had always been an issue.
Sira and Odel had never treated any of the sons differently, not blatantly, but Edvard could see the pride in their eyes when Elian had accepted homage from the neighboring landowners. Second-born was barely better than third, or sixth.
Just as in the tournaments, he thought sourly. Mina's hand tightened at his side as her attention sharpened and he looked further up the trail to see three deer cross.
"They're huge," she said breathlessly.
"You've never seen deer before?"
"Not so close."
Yuila had kicked the pinto into a trot, trying to catch up to the deer for a better look.
"Yuila," he said. She slowed, glancing at him with a pout. "Stay with us."
She dropped back to them, casting Mina a dark look.
Edvard knew there was a very good chance that taking the young Crone home would do just that and nothing more. The mysterious people known as the Crones kept to themselves and didn't like visitors. It was very possible they would render a polite thank-you, and that was it. No special talent, no charmed gift, nothing.
The rope to the mule suddenly tightened and the gelding stopped at the tug. Edvard turned to look at the mule behind them. It stood staunchly in the trail, neck outstretched, chewing on a tree branch hanging nearby.
"Come on, boy," he said, jerking the rope. The mule put its ears back and shook its head.
After a few more pulls, Yuila rode over to the pack animal and prepared to slap its rump. With a whack, immediately the mule lurched into motion. Yuila grinned at the response.
And exactly what the Crones could provide as deference, Edvard wasn't even sure. The mule behind them kept pace this time as they moved along the path in the afternoon warmth. Edvard had heard it was possible to receive special endowments, but hadn't ever met anyone who had been bestowed such a gift. Maybe he was really only returning a lost girl.
He glanced to Yuila, who was oblivious to his thoughts – which was good – and then looked back to the trail ahead of them. He felt Mina sigh behind him, her breath catching as the exhale pushed on her ribcage.
Maybe he was just returning two lost girls home.
When they stopped for the night Edvard let Yuila and Mina visit the nearby wild tomato bushes as he rubbed down the horses and mule. He watched the girls interview the bushes heavy with round red fruits, seeing the Crone laugh and hold a misshaped specimen up for Mina to see.
But as far as returning stray girls, Mina was an entirely different story. It hadn't escaped him that she was indeed ill. Or injured. She had been secretive about herself, leading their conversations to his family life or Yuila's heritage.
He decided to believe she wasn't a vagabond wife, and clearly not from a local tribe of gypsies. If she was a runaway slave, as Yuila chose to believe, she was of an exotic sort he had never before seen. Her almond shaped eyes were deep brown, unlike any nationality he knew. He'd stopped chastising the younger girl from commenting about them. She was plainly envious, and he often caught her pulling at the corners of her own eyes. And Mina didn't seem to mind the silent flattery.
Or maybe she hadn't noticed. He sighed, his hand pausing over mule's ears where a large fly had bit him. He flicked off the dried blood, careful not to disturb the scab that had formed.
Mina certainly could not ride a horse, and could barely stay on even with him. She'd done a little better today, and he wondered if she was finished being sick. The blood she vomited worried him. She didn't act injured, only weak. Aside from the scrape on her arm and slight cut at her temple, he had seen no physical damage. And he had seen enough brothers born to know her symptoms were not indicative of early pregnancy.
A sudden scream broke Edvard's thoughts and he jerked his attention from the mule's ear to see Yuila dancing and waving her arms as a cloud of bees swarmed her. Mina grabbed the girl's arm and hurried her pell mell through the evening's thick brush, half-dragging her.
Edvard intercepted them and batted at the bees with the wiping cloth he had used on the horses, smacking the buzzing insects as Yuila howled in pain. The bees retreated back to their hidden hive, their mission accomplished. Yuila knelt in the tall grass, crying and holding her face.
"Let me see," Mina said gently, trying to move the girl's hands.
"You stirred them up," Edvard said as the girl clutched her stinging cheeks. "You should have left them alone, Yuila."
"I didn't know they were there." She let Mina take her hands from her face. Already small red welts were forming around her chin and one eye.
"I'll get some cold water," Edvard said and left.
Mina led the nearly hysterical Crone to where they had made camp, folding her to her knees near the fire.
"It stings," the girl whimpered as the fire's heat reached her.
"I need the light to see if there are any stingers left." Mina turned the girl's face, shaking her head at the bumpy areas. Her finger rubbed slowly around the reddened spots. Yuila only reacted with a minor sniff. "I don't think there are any stingers in you, Yuila."
"They're on fire."
Edvard returned with a canteen of water and Mina soaked a cloth with it. She touched it to Yuila's chin and eye, watching the welts lessen to a pink after a few moments. He left again and returned, this time bringing with him half a basket of the cherry-sized tomatoes they had dropped.
"How is she?" he asked.
Mina smiled at Yuila, dabbing at her eye. "She'll be all right."
The girl looked sharply at him, her glare hampered by the swollen eye. "I did not stir them up."
He shrugged and sorted through the tomatoes, then handed her a large, plump one. "Count how many seeds are in that and then eat it. It'll make the stinging stop."
Yuila frowned at the idea, but split the fruit open and picked at the pulp with a fingernail. Edvard went back to the horses. Mina looked after him, and then to Yuila. Sure enough, the girl was carefully sorting through the opened tomato, eating seeds as she came to them.
He brought the saddle bags to camp area and rummaged around, placing half a loaf of bread and a block of hard-rind cheese in a shallow bowl. He looked to where Mina still held the cool cloth to the Crone's eye, grinning. Yuila very nearly had her wish for slanted eyes, at least one, anyway.
He divided the bread and put a third of each in the shallow bowl and two other deeper ones. Mina took the basket and knelt beside him as he cut through the cheese with a knife and separated it into slices in the bowls.
"Why did you have her count the seeds?"
"To keep her busy."
She set the basket of tomatoes down and distributed them into the bowls. "So she won't feel the stings?"
He nodded.
"Is that what you tell Del when he gets stung?"
"Close. I have him count bruises on his legs." He noticed one side of her hair shone nearly a black-bronze from the firelight in the growing dusk. "He's always got bruises to count."
Yuila dropped down beside them. "Thirty-eight, Edvard."
"Thirty-eight?" He shook his head. "That's an awful lot. It's such a small tomato. Are you sure you counted right?"
"Well, I can't count them again, because I ate them." She took one of the deeper bowls. "Is this one mine?"
He nodded and she left with it to sit by the fire.
"I think it worked," Mina said with a smile as he handed her another bowl.
He glanced to Yuila eating through a slightly swollen lower lip.
Mina watched his gaze. "Thanks."
He shrugged, looking back to her. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"
For a moment she looked like she didn't want to answer, her attention dropping to her bowl. "I don't think so."
He nodded and left it at that.
PG13, saga; teen, fantasy, fantasy world travel, tee, teen romance, clean romance, realm, magical realism, shadow world, school/new school, high school, fiction, serial. #ReadFree with free signup. ♫♪
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Thanks to P.G. Waters for the use of her story!