Donovan and Brandela travelled eastward for the rest of that morning without stopping. Their surroundings gradually changed from the scrubby shrubs and coarse grasses that had dominated the area around the encampment, to open fields of long grass and strange, bluish-colored sunflowers. Brandela could not recall seeing any flower quite as beautiful as these back in the Wood Elven kingdom and she was enchanted. This wouldn’t be so bad under different circumstances, she thought. The world outside the kingdom was really very interesting.
Brandela turned her eyes from the landscape and rested them on Donovan’s solid, muscular back. She had been following him for hours, and he had been silent the whole time. He had barely even looked at her. At first, she hadn’t thought much about it, but as the morning dragged on, it had started to bother her. Did he find her so distasteful that he could not bear to lay his eyes on her? She frowned and thought testily, So what? He is only a human. Even if he was interested, nothing could come of it.
She sighed, fully aware of how foolish she was being right now. They were still in great danger—most likely being chased by a horde of Barbarian soldiers, and all she could think about was whether this human male found her attractive or not. She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks as she thought, shamefully, about the risks he had taken for her, and how terribly shallow she was being. His lack of attention toward her was reasonable, after all. He was focused on getting them safely out of danger. Why should he concern himself over her appearance?
Brandela supposed that she should be focused on their survival as well, but she couldn’t help herself at the moment. She had never been alone for so long with a man who was not a direct family member—and no man had made her feel the strange things that this one did. Also, she had never before been this far south. Surely, being in these new surroundings and landscapes, guided by a man she barely knew, had to explain these strange thoughts and feelings. When she got back home amongst her people, things would return to normal, she hoped.
A new dress would certainly help me feel a little more like myself, she thought, glancing down at the ill-fitting, uncomfortable clothing that hung from her slender frame. Her strange outfit was the uniform of an Elven Ranger, and yet, in all the months she had travelled with the Barbarians, she could not recall ever having seen another Elven prisoner. She studied Donovan’s frame and wondered again, as she had begun to along this morning’s journey, if the clothes belonged to him. She would be willing to place a large wager on the fact that they would fit him; they were much too large for the average Elf. But it didn’t make sense. He was a human. Why would he have Elven clothing? She decided she would find out tonight, when they stopped to make camp, exactly who this strange human man really was and why he carried Elven weaponry and owned Elven Ranger clothing.
Donovan stopped near a stream around midday and knelt to drink deeply of the clear water there. It took little encouraging for Brandela to do the same. She was parched! Donovan pulled strips of dried deer meat from his supply pouch and handed her one. “It’s not much on taste but it will give you energy. Eat up and rest for a few moments. We can only stop for a short time. We’ll have to travel hard for the next few days, then we’ll get into more heavily travelled areas so our tracks won’t be so obvious. If we’re lucky and Garock hasn’t figured out our route, we should be able to slow the pace a bit then.”
Brandela watched his face the whole time he spoke, willing him to look at her, but he did little more than cast her a quick glance before looking away again. Brandela bit her lip with annoyance. She was not accustomed to being ignored this way. Why was he behaving so oddly?
“I understand,” she replied, and something in her tone made him glance at her. When he looked away, she could no longer contain herself. “Do you find me so hideous that you can’t even look at me for more than a few seconds at a time?”
Donovan, completely taken off guard by the question, looked startled for a moment, then burst into laughter.
Brandela’s face flushed with anger and humiliation. Was it not bad enough that he found her so ugly? Must he now also laugh at her? “It was only a simple question,” she protested. “I would never have asked it had I realized your manners were so lacking.”
When Donovan had regained control of himself, he answered, “Princess, it is not that you’re ugly. You are so very un-ugly.”
Brandela’s delicate brow furrowed. “What do you mean? You are making no sense. Would you prefer me to be ugly?”
“Yes, I would,” answered Donovan, honestly.
Brandela bristled, confused and insulted. “Well, I’m sorry that you find me so unsuitable,” she huffed, in a clipped tone.
Donovan looked over at the princess, equally confused by her strange behavior. What had brought this on? he wondered. Donovan had no experience dealing with women. The only Elven woman he had ever known in his life was Alayna and now she was gone. He sighed and studied Brandela’s face. She’s very cute when she’s angry, he thought. He wanted to laugh again at the absurdity of her conclusion that he found her ugly but held it in.
He tried again. “The fact is, Princess, you are extremely beautiful, and your beauty is a distraction for me. It makes it hard for me to concentrate on my tasks; and right now, I need to stay focused. I need to get us safely back home to the Wood Elven kingdom.
Brandela smiled slightly at his compliment and mentally scolded herself about her own vanity. She then turned her thoughts to his final words.
“Get us back home to the Wood Elven kingdom?” she repeated. “Are you implying that the kingdom is also your home?”
“Yes, Princess, I have lived there most of my life.”
Brandela looked doubtful. “My father is not in the habit of allowing humans asylum within the forest. Quite the opposite, in fact. How am I to believe that you have called the kingdom ‘home’ for all of your years?”
Donovan smiled and looked away. “He offered asylum once, about ten years ago.”
Brandela frowned thoughtfully, thinking back. “Are you referring to the group of young orphans? They were mere children, so it was understandable why they would have been given sanctuary. It was an exception. But, what does that have to do with you?”
“That was ten years ago, Princess,” he explained. “I am one of those children that were given sanctuary.”
Brandela looked completely puzzled at this news and stared at him intently. “That is not possible,” she replied. “You are clearly not a child, so how am I to believe that you are one of them?”
Donavan stared back at her, just as confused as she. Then it dawned on him and he smiled at her bewildered expression. “Princess, I am human, as you know, and humans grow faster than Elves. Ten years, by your standard, is not a long time, but for a human it is time enough to reach maturity. I am a man no longer a child. I was trained as an Elven Ranger, I speak the Elven tongue, and I know who and what you are and give myself to your service. Does that explain things sufficiently for now, because we really must get moving again?”
Brandela stayed quiet for a long moment, trying to straighten it all out in her mind. Donovan knew he had convinced her, so he said nothing more and chewed his deer meat in silence, watching her and waiting. Suddenly, she stood and began walking east again. He raised his eyebrows and jumped to his feet to go after her. This time, they walked side by side.
Garock’s scouts returned to the encampment later that day and reported finding no tracks leading north, but they had found the tracks of two people leaving the creek about two leagues south of the encampment, heading east.
Southeast? So the bastard’s clever, too, thought Garock, scowling. His desire to find out the identity of the soldier who had helped the princess escape was growing stronger by the minute. The man was obviously very skilled and highly trained to kill his troops without alerting anyone to his presence. And he was proving to be a formidable opponent in this game of cat and mouse. He would have to deal with this guy very differently, he suspected.
Garock secretly respected their decision to flee south and make their way eastward. It was the kind of move he would have made himself if in their place. Now, instead of being able to recapture them easily, he would have to go traipsing through the countryside, tracking them down for the next couple of days. And if they made it to the trade routes before he had a chance to catch up, his chances of success would be severely diminished. He had to find them before they reach the trade routes. He would find them!
Garock immediately gathered forty of his best men and personally took command. When they found the princess and the unknown soldier, he wanted to be there to deal with them, face to face.
“Prepare food and weapons for a long journey,” he ordered his men. “The prisoner is at least a day ahead of us. We will leave at dawn and we’ll be marching double-time. The princess can’t be traveling all that quickly. We’ll be able to catch up to them within a day or two.”
It was dark and the temperature was dropping rapidly when Donovan finally settled on a place for them to stop and make camp. Brandela stumbled into the hideout he’d chosen—a simple group of boulders in the flat, grassy landscape. She was so sore and tired that she figured she would probably be nursing aches and pains for years to come. She slumped to the ground near one of the boulders and watched as Donovan pulled more of the dried meat from his pouch. He held it out to her, but she shook her head, too tired to chew.
Donovan frowned. “You must eat,” he warned. “You’ll need all of your energy tomorrow.”
Brandela groaned at the thought of starting all of this again tomorrow. All she wanted to do was lie down in a nice warm bed and sleep for days and days. “I’ll eat in the morning,” she answered. “I’m cold and tired tonight. I just want to rest.” She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned against the boulder.
“I’m afraid we can’t start a fire,” Donovan told her, apologetically. He pulled a single, thick blanket from his pack and shook it out. “We’ll have to share this for the next few days until we get far enough away to risk a fire.”
Brandela’s eyes were wide with shock when she looked up at him, but she could see that he was perfectly serious. He expected her to huddle with him in that blanket—touching! She was wide awake again now and shook her head vehemently. “No, thank you, I’ll be fine.”
Donovan looked at her even more seriously and shook his head. “Princess, trust me, it gets very cold at night on these plains. Yo u won’t survive without covering, and we can use each other’s body heat to stay warm.”
Brandela gasped, thoroughly shocked and offended by what he was suggesting. She stood up and moved, warily, to the far edge of the hideout. In a firm, sharp-edged tone, she insisted, “I will not compromise my virtue just to stay warm.”
Donovan looked at her standing there like a stubborn child, her mouth set with determination and eyes that challenged him but were tinged with fear at the same time. What was he to do with such a creature? He was going to wrap her in a blanket and make her rest, that’s what!
“Princess, believe me, before this night is out, you’ll be grateful to be held in this blanket with me. It is going to get very cold! Try to remember, it’s only temporary until we get far enough away so we can make a fire. I can’t do anything about our current situation, but I can improve our chances of survival by taking these measures.”
Brandela opened her mouth as if to argue, but he raised his hand and cut her off. “Before you say no again, let me help you understand something important. You don’t have a choice. I am not going to let you kill yourself by trying to stay warm out here on your own. Now come and get in this blanket.”
The princess regarded him for a long moment, undecided. If any other non-royal spoke to her the way this Donovan did, there’d be serious trouble. Who was he to order her around like this? And yet, she couldn’t fault him on his logic or on his leadership. She was terribly cold and the blanket did look inviting.
Still, the idea of huddling up with him, with no chaperone near to keep a close watch over her virtue…a shiver ran up her spine and she began to tremble. She had never been touched by any man other than her father and her brothers. This was very unladylike and most unnerving. Her more rational mind knew that this was out of necessity and that she would have to make some difficult choices in order to get through this ordeal, but still...
Donovan cocked an eyebrow expectantly and held open the blanket. She sighed loudly and lowered her eyes, giving in. “Fine, have it your way,” she grumbled. “But I warn you, I will not allow any liberties with my person. Do you understand me plainly?”
Donovan smiled back at her disarmingly and answered, “Of course, Princess. I would not dream of taking liberties with a princess of the House of Oendale.”
This implied formality had the desired effect, and Princess Brandela approached him with as much dignity as her odd-sized clothes and chattering teeth would allow. Donovan stood waiting with the blanket draped over his shoulders. Brandela stopped when she was directly in front of him and lifted her beautiful, wide eyes to his. Her nervousness moved him. He was surprised by the surge of protectiveness that he felt as he looked at her. He had never felt that way about anyone before.
He opened his arms and the blanket and pulled her into its folds. He could feel her trembling, and knew that it wasn’t only the cold that made her shiver. He began rubbing the cold and stiffness out of her arms and soon felt her relax ever so slightly.
Brandela hated to admit it, but she was already much warmer and an odd emotion of contentment was washing over her. She could feel her guard coming down, and wasn’t quite sure if that was a good thing or not. Did this put her virtue in danger? To be honest, she wasn’t even entirely sure what her “virtue” was or why it needed guarding so badly. Right now, it hardly mattered. Right now, all she wanted was his warmth.
Donovan scooped her up in his arms and was rewarded with a very unladylike squeak from Brandela. Donovan smiled as Brandela wrapped her slender arms around his neck to keep from falling. He lowered himself, with Brandela still in his arms, to the grass near one of the boulders and leaned his back against it. He arranged the blanket so it covered both of them and wrapped his arms around the princess as she nestled onto his lap and laid her head on his chest.
It took a bit of wiggling and repositioning, but soon she had found a surprisingly comfortable resting spot with her head beneath his chin.
“Try to get some sleep. We have another long day tomorrow,” said Donovan. His voice was husky and he was far from sleepy. This was going to be a long night! If she wiggled her body just one more time he was going to take his chances in the cold. She smelled so nice.
Brandela began to drift off within minutes of settling against Donovan’s solid, warm body. His warmth was coaxing the ache from her muscles and sleepiness was washing over her in pleasant waves. As her eyes closed and she relaxed more and more, she smiled. This was the safest she’d felt in months.
Donovan squeezed her little closer to him and looked down at her dirt-streaked, peaceful face. She reminded him of a younger version of Alayna. Alayna. I hope Garock is suffering tonight, he thought as he settled back against the boulder. His eyes soon grew heavy and moments later he, too, fell asleep.