Page 34 of Aubade Rising
We return to packing our essential belongings, for me that means leaving behind the book Haelyn lent me, carefully placing it on Eskar’s bookshelves. I’m loath to leave it but now I know how valuable it is, I can’t afford to take it into the Haag and risk it getting damaged. For Eskar, it apparently means making the critical decision on which weapon to leave behind; for every dagger and knife that he deliberates over, I open my eyes wider. I’m not sure how we’re meant to pass as travellers when he’s armed to the teeth.
I roll my eyes deliberately when he staggers a little under the weight of his rucksack – I thought we were packing light.
Downstairs and in the street, the morning light is more intense than I’m used to and as my eyes adjust to the bright ivory reflections, Eskar tenses in front of me.
We’re surrounded by city guards, with the slimy official standing in the centre.
“What is this?” Eskar spits, hands balling at his side.
“When you failed to show up for dinner last night, the Governor was concerned. We are simply here to escort you to his house for the duration of your visit.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Eskar’s voice is low, his tonecommanding. “As you can see, we are both fine and require no assistance. Send our regards to the Governor. We will not be coming with you.” He steps closer to me but stops short of letting our arms brush.
“I’m relieved to hear it. Now, please, come this way.” The official disregards the second part of Eskar’s protest and the guards close in.
“I said no!” The guards falter but the official smiles greasily at us.
“I’m to convey from the Governor, that this isn’t a request and to remind you that while you reside in his city, you will abide by his rules.”
The guards take another step forward, closing in around us. A shiver passes through my spine and I pull back into a shadow of the doorway. Eskar stops me.
His face is grave; he surveys the guards surrounding us and the citizens peering from their doorways at the commotion, before nodding curtly to the official, allowing the guards to shepherd us deeper into the city.
“How did they find us?” I hiss.
Eskar doesn’t respond, just fixes his gaze ahead, remaining silent.
We weave through the city, bustling with morning fervour. The unit of guards causes a murmuring behind us.
Unnoticed by our entourage, Eskar coughs quietly and I look up to recognise his furtive assessment of the streets. He’s making a plan: he has no intention of going peacefully to the Governor’s house. Faintly relieved at his reticence to engage with the Mordros in charge of Cathair and ready to follow his lead, I shift my pack more comfortably on my shoulders.
Under his breath, he whispers, “If we enter the Governor’s house, we’re not coming out alive. In two streets time, I’m going to make a distraction and we’re going to run. Be ready.”
I hate running. Nothing in my life requires athleticism of any kind so this is not ideal. But there’s no opportunity to discuss, to argue and I value my life more than making a fool of myself with my lack of fitness. Thankfully, none of the guards closest to me exude health and vitality either. Clearly working for the Governor is a choice assignment.
Time slows as we walk towards the crossroad Eskar has chosen. There’s a rhythmic hubbub ahead – it’s market day. Chequered awnings over busy stalls are being laid out and crates unloaded. There is a subtle aroma of cooked apple floating through the breeze and my mouth waters, masking my nerves for a moment.
The official and guards turn right as we enter the market, their uniformed credentials opening a path through the organised melee. As they turn, Eskar shoots a jet of water into the middle of the market, capsizing the nearest stalls and knocking over the official. Eskar reaches for my hand, engulfing it with his own and we run.
The market traders don’t part as easily for us, but perhaps that is a blessing in disguise as we’re more difficult for the guards to place in the crowds. Distantly now, the official hollers for us to stop and for people to apprehend us. Thankfully it turns out the people of Cathair, privileged as they are, have little love for authority. No one tries to stop us. In fact, a few step out of our way before closing the path behind us.
We weave uphill through the stalls, until my breath feels as if it’s being torn from my lungs. Eskar’s height and long strides make it tough to keep pace but adrenaline pushes me on.
At the top of the market, the protection of the stalls and crowds dissipates and the outraged chatter thins out. Eskar pulls me into a side street and slows. I’m gasping now, legs burning and drenched in sweat under my winter cloak. This quarter of the city is sleeping and the homes, while not dishevelled, are definitely older and in need of some repair. Broken, leaningfences threaten to trip us as we pound up the road. The polished stone pavements change to an uneven dusty brown and cracks open where tree roots protrude through the soil. A quick glance back reveals no pursuers. Eskar pushes on relentless.
We reach the end of the road, the very edge of the city and slip behind the tree line, into the shadows. Legs cramping, I rest, panting against the broad trunk of an oak tree while Eskar peers down into the city we’ve left behind. Gulping air and inhaling the fresh scent of the trees, damp from this week’s rain, I slowly regain my breath.
“We’ve lost them for now.” Eskar’s voice is ominous.Sweat also coats his face and soaks his hair. He motions for us to continue deeper into the trees. Legs wobbling, I stagger after him.
“There’s a small river source ahead; we can follow it to the other side of the city and hire a boat to Tanwen from there. If we hurry, we can be well clear of Cathair by sunset.”
I grunt an agreement, unable to form words as we trudge deeper into the forest.
Chapter 33
The whole day we hiked through the forest outside Cathair, I stressed. What started as a simple stop in Eskar’s hometown snowballed into two back-to-back escapes, the second making us run for our lives. Trekking through a lush forest which was just showing the first signs of welcoming spring should have given me time to ruminate on what happened in Cathair but the crunch of branches from animals and the frantic cries of hungry baby birds kept me on edge. My jaw is tense and aching by the time the skies darken, my nerves fraying at every interruption or possible sound of our pursuers.
Whatever Eskar learnt about the Governor while replenishing his magic overnight, and while I slept unawares, he’s shaken. I refuse to be kept in the dark any further but he won’t relent. He promises to tell me as soon as we’re safely on a boat out of the city but as we press on I’m grumbling to myself and stewing in nightmares.
