World of Ryyah: Birth of the Half Elves by H. L. Watson - HTML preview

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Chapter Eighteen

Donovan and Brandela travelled for another month before finally coming to the Kshearry River. They could hear it long before they caught their first glimpse of it, and knew they were approaching a major body of water by the steady increase in vegetation in the surrounding landscape. Finding small animals for their meals became easier—hares, snakes and various birds were abundant—and Donovan occasionally saw signs of larger animals and pointed them out to Brandela. They knew it was close but nothing prepared them for their first sighting of the mighty waterway.

The Upper Kshearry River was almost a quarter of a league across, running deep and quiet in places, and ferocious and violent in others. It was the second largest river on Ryahh and an awesome sight to behold, even for Donovan who had seen, and crossed it, several times before. For Brandela, it was simply overwhelming, especially when Donovan told her they would have to swim to the other side.

“We have to cross that!” Brandela whispered. Her eyes, watching the river rage around boulders and toss fallen trees along as though they were twigs, were wide and fearful.

Donovan turned and smiled reassuringly at her. “Not here,” he assured her. “We’ll find a quieter spot, and I’ll be with you the whole way. I won’t let anything happen to you. Besides, you’re strong. I know you can do this.”

Brandela looked at him and he could see the trust in her eyes. She relaxed slightly and smiled at him. “What about our supplies?” she asked.

“That’s why I bought the wax-covered bags back in town. They’re waterproof and they’ll float. It will all be fine.” Secretly, Donovan was also worried about the supplies, but for a different reason. He didn’t know if he would be strong enough to guide Bran-dela across the river and carry their supplies across as well. It would require a lot of effort on his part to do both, for the river’s current was strong and he knew that if she couldn’t make it most of the way on her own, he would have to abandon their supplies in order to save her. It would be a major loss at this point in their journey.

But, Brandela was a lot stronger than she looked. She had proven that enough times and Donovan had genuine faith that she would be able to handle this. Donovan had experienced her strong will firsthand many times by now, and he admired that about her. He was proud of the courage his wife had shown over the months that they’d been traveling. Few other women would have handled the situation as well, he knew. She seemed to grow stronger with each passing day, helping him more and keeping up better. If any woman could do this, she could.

They had to follow the river upstream for about three leagues before they got above the rapids and found calmer waters that offered a more suitable place for them to cross. Donovan studied his chosen spot for a long time and finally decided that it was probably the best they were going to get the next couple of days. It was time to get this over with!

“You’ll need to strip down to your underclothing,” he told Brandela. “Once we get to the other side, we’ll have a fire and get dry and comfy before nightfall.”

Brandela undressed and folded her dress into one of the wax bags without a word. Her eyes never left the dark expanse of water.

“It’s going to be all right,” Donovan reassured her, taking her hand and leading her into the river. They stood, calf deep, for a moment, adjusting to the chill of the water. Brandela “felt” for Donovan, needing his courage and strength. She sensed his confidence and his readiness and her own fears eased. She gave him a small nod to indicate that she was ready.

“Here we go, then.” He smiled and led her into the deeper water.

Thirty minutes later, Donovan pulled Brandela onto the opposite bank. She was coughing up water furiously, but she was alive. Donovan had made sure of that. When they had caught their breath, he grinned over at her and said, “Well, at least you chose the end of the swim to get tired. I didn’t have far to pull you.”

Brandela open her eyes at the playful sound of his voice and scowled at him with mock annoyance. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you wouldn’t have missed me at all if I had been carried off by the current, never to be seen again.”

“Oh, now, I would have missed you for at least a week…,” he chuckled. As Brandela’s eyebrows flew up in outrage, he added quickly, “…or two, or three maybe!”

Brandela leaped to her feet and chased Donovan along the riv-erbank, determined to punish her tormentor for his rudeness. Donovan allowed her to catch him and when she ran into him, Donovan fell backwards, pulling Brandela down with him. She straddled his hips and pinned his chest with her hands. He waved his hands in mock surrender, laughing, until she pinned his hands to the ground.

“I surrender, Brandela. I am completely at your mercy.”

“Tell me that you would have missed me,” she insisted.

Chuckling, he teased, “Okay, okay…, a month then!”

With a growl, Brandela bit his neck and shoulders until he gave in, roaring with laughter, and told her he’d have been devastated if something had happened to her. It was true, and Brandela felt the truth of the words as he spoke them.

Brandela smiled down at him with delight. “Well, that deserves a reward. Perhaps I should have my wicked way with you.”

Donovan became suddenly, keenly, aware of Brandela’s position astride him. There was nothing between them but her wet undergarments. He placed his hands on her hips and felt her respond to his touch almost immediately. In a breathless voice, she laughed and said, “Not now! I swear, your appetite in this area of our marriage is insatiable.”

Donovan grinned at her and answered, “I’m glad you noticed, but I am merely a servant, humbly endeavoring to fulfill my husbandly duties.”

Brandela rolled her eyes and replied, “Well, my servant, it’s true that nothing would make me happier at the moment, but don’t you think we should set up camp first, and then worry about fulfilling your husbandly duties later?”

Donovan suddenly jumped to his feet, picking her up with him and throwing her across his shoulder. “A husband’s duties are never done,” he sighed.

Brandela laughed at his casual display of strength. He was as strong as a forest bear, although always remarkably gentle with her, as in the way he lowered her carefully to the ground now. He retrieved their bags, took her hand and led her to a nearby clearing where they would make camp for the night.

Later, with their camp in order and their passions sated, Donovan and Brandela cuddled before the fire and watched the sunset turn the river golden. Brandela sighed blissfully with the heat of the fire in front of her and the heat of Donovan behind her. She had never in her life suspected that it was possible to make love as often as she and Donovan did. His stamina was remarkable and she was, secretly, very pleased with the way this area of their marriage was going. It was far more fun than anything her mother had told her about!

At moments like this, Brandela was overcome with love for Donovan, although she had yet to speak the words aloud. Ever since she had guessed the truth about the bonding spell, she had been plagued by doubts about whether he loved her in return, as she did him. She felt his affection, attraction, and protectiveness toward her, but was that love as she knew it? Tonight, it didn’t matter and she pushed her worries aside. The main thing was, he respected and honored her with his actions and deeds and in this way he had already proven the depth of his caring for her. He’s a good man, she thought as she began to fall asleep, wrapped safely in Donovan’s arms.

Brandela woke the next morning, alone beside the smothered fire. She sat up to see where Donovan had taken himself and spotted him not far from the camp, peering down at something on the ground with a worried expression on his face. She dressed quickly and joined him.

“What is it?” she asked. She looked at the spot that he was studying so intently, but saw nothing of importance there.

Donovan lightly touched the ground where he was staring, and led her eyes to the lightly imprinted footprint of a large animal.

“What kind of animal do you think it is?” she asked.

Donovan frowned and replied, “I would say it’s a kazzic wolf print.”

“The wolves are trustworthy messengers,” Brandela stated softly. “Are the kazzic wolves like our forest wolves?”

Donovan glanced at her, worried. She had no idea of the danger they were in. “The kazzics are not like our forest wolves,” he told her. “They are much larger and they have no alliance to the Elven people…, or any other people I know of. I know of them only through rumors and stories. Some of the intruders we would repel from entering the Wood Elven forest wore hides made from these animals. They were massive, like the beast that made this track.”

Brandela shivered, sensing the tension in Donovan with this new threat.

“It looks like he may have been here last night,” Donovan added.

“Last night?” Brandela exclaimed. “You mean, while we were asleep?”

“Yes, this track is fresh. I would say the wolf came to the river to drink, scented us, and came to investigate. Perhaps the fire kept it from attacking, or it may have already fed, but I don’t think we’ll get as lucky a second time. Wolves grow bold quickly where an easy meal is involved. We’ll have to keep our guard up from here on out.”

Brandela replied, “I’ll do as you say, of course, but what if one does attack? Will we be all right?”

“The kazzic wolves in the Wildlands are solitary hunters, and I’m hoping this strain is the same. I can handle one, no matter what size it is, but we’re probably safer to keep moving and leave this area as soon as we can.”

Brandela nodded and answered cheerily, “Well then, I had better get us prepared to move on.”

Donovan smiled at her. “Yes, you do that. I’m going to check around for more tracks. I’ll be there to help soon.”

Donovan followed the enormous tracks until he was in the deeper foliage. There, he found what he had hoped he wouldn’t. The single tracks turn into the tracks of six or seven distinct wolves. The rumors he had heard about these kazzic wolves were true—they hunted in packs and could be a formidable and often deadly force.

They followed the river north for the next month, stopping only long enough to eat and rest briefly each night. Donovan built the campfires larger than usual. The threat of the wolves was greater than the threat of being seen by Garock now that they had crossed the river. In fact, Donovan had seen no sign that they were being followed for several weeks now. Perhaps Garock had given up. No, Donovan thought, that would be a foolish assumption. Garock was not likely to give up such a lifesaving prize that easily.

Although they were traveling at a difficult pace, Donovan and Brandela fared much better on this leg of the journey. Dehydration was no longer a concern, as it had been, constantly, on the plains, and food was far more abundant. Donovan was an excellent fisherman and often brought in a fat, red-bellied salmon for their evening meal. The meat was so tasty and rich—both Donovan and Brandela gained back a bit of lost weight and felt their strength renewed after a couple of weeks of this nutritious food supply.

As they feasted one evening, Brandela wondered aloud why they hadn’t seen any sign of habitation on this side of the river.

“This area is used mainly by nomadic tribes,” Donovan explained. “Most of their settlements are on the west side of the Kshearry River.”

“I wonder why none of them settle here, with all this bounty?” Brandela held up a large chunk of salmon to make her point, then put the whole piece into her mouth in a most un princess-like manner.

Donovan suspected that it had to do with the kazzic wolves, but he didn’t want to alarm Brandela. He had watched for tracks every day, and it was clear that the wolves were quite aware that there were intruders in their territory and that they had been trailing them closely. Every morning, Donovan could see where the wolves had circled their camp, and every day it seemed that they dared to get a little closer.

For now, not wanting to discuss the wolves, Donovan suggested, “I suppose it has to do with trade routes. Most of the tribes are traders, and you can’t do much trading if there’s no one to trade with.”

Several days later, Donovan decided that they would stop and make camp earlier than usual. They needed a day of rest. He had been pushing Brandela hard and he knew her well enough by now to know when she was beginning to show signs of fatigue. He planned to slow their pace for the next few days to give her a chance to recover, and then push on hard again until they had left this dangerous area.

As he started to gather timber to be used later in their campfire, he watched Brandela out of the corner of his eye as she headed to the river to “freshen up.” He continued with his chores, gathering the wood, preparing a fire pit and lining their sleeping area with reeds. When he was finished, Brandela had not yet returned.

A twinge of concern pulled at his mind. Had something happened to her? Visions of her falling into the current, struggling until she disappeared beneath the dark surface flashed through his mind. Then, a picture of her kneeling at the side of the river, a kazzic wolf behind her, ready to attack. He would have heard something, he told himself. She’s fine. But when she didn’t return a few minutes later, he knew he couldn’t leave it, and headed in the direction he had watched her go.

He was nearly jogging by the time he cleared the foliage and spotted her. So many horrible visions had flashed through his mind in the last few moments and relief rushed over him when he saw her. The live vision of her stopped him in his tracks and took his breath away.

Before him was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Water swirled and sparkled in the quiet pool in which Brandela stood, bathing, without a stitch of clothing on her beautiful frame. Brandela’s body glowed golden in the sun and her gleaming hair hung in a luxurious wet rope to her shapely behind. She was completely unaware of his presence as she hummed and cleaned herself in the river.

Brandela turned to find Donovan staring at her and she smiled at the expression on his face. She knew well what that look meant and she welcomed it. Donovan had been more distracted the past couple of weeks, preoccupied and watchful. A bit of time for a more relaxing activity would do them both good!

She turned her back on him, pretending that she hadn’t noticed him, and continued washing. This time, though, she slowly poured handfuls of water on her glistening body and bent and moved in what she hoped was a seductive manner. She didn’t have to wait long to find out if she had succeeded.

Donovan couldn’t take it anymore. He knew exactly what her game was and he didn’t mind it one bit. He quickly pulled off his clothing and walked into the water, directly behind her, and placed his hands on her shoulders. She looked up at him with mock surprise and smiled innocently.

“I didn’t notice you there, my Lord. How long have you been watching?”

Donovan growled his reply as he began nuzzling her neck. She had started using “my Lord” as a playful title when she was in the mood to be overpowered. The term that used to annoy him so much, now sent him into a fever.

He began caressing the parts of her that were most sensitive to his touch and allowed her to turn around and face him. He kissed her passionately, driving her senses to their breaking point, making her impatient for the release she knew he would give her. She took his hand and tried to lead them out of the water so they could make love on the shore, but Donovan held his ground, lifted her, and pulled her tightly against him. Brandela was shocked to suddenly, exquisitely, find herself astride Donovan. She was even more surprised when Donovan began making love to her right there in the river.