Fate War: Alliance (15 page)

Samantha’s eyes flitted over his shoulder from tree to tree. She acted as if an army hid there, ready to attack at any moment. He needed to distract her.

“You look…” He didn’t know a word that encompassed the vision he saw before him. “Beautiful.” It was as close as it came. She tried to smile, but her worry weighed it down.

“I promise there is no one around to see you. But personally I think it’s a shame. I wish I could show you off. I’d be the envy of two kingdoms.” He held his hand to help her down the rest of the steps. She took it tentatively, but still searched the area, presumably for unknown character assailants. He led her to a fully tacked Freedom and Octavious. The saddled horses grazed with their reins falling forward into their manes. They were oblivious to her discomfort.

“I can’t.” Samantha whispered, on the edge of tears. She turned back to the carriage, but Cole held her hand fast.

“You can.” He drew her back. “No one will see us. And who cares if they do? We are the future king and queen of this land. If we ride or don’t ride, as long as the kingdom is properly cared for, it’s none of their business.”

Samantha was trembling now, but she made no move to retreat again. Cole took the opening. He released her and retrieved Octavious.

“I think you should ride Octavious. Freedom is being a little hard to handle.” He led the horse in front of her so all she had to do was reach out and take the saddle to mount. Her hands remained at her side, and she rocked back and forth as if she hadn’t decided to move forward or back.

“I’ll give you a leg up.” He dropped Octavious’ lead. Trusting him to stay put, Cole moved behind Samantha, hoping to block her exit and encourage her to mount. His tactic worked, and she grabbed for the saddle. With the ease of a seasoned rider, her foot slipped into the stirrup and the other found his clasped hands. She slid onto the saddle and sat with perfect riding posture, but her eyes were closed. Her face was serene, but Cole could see a slight trembling though her body. He placed the reins in her hand, which she grasped white knuckled. She never opened her eyes, so he couldn’t read her expression completely, but he held to the fragile hope she would ride.

Mounting Freedom was not as easy. The horse didn’t want to be caught in the first place, and when he finally grabbed her lead rope, she wouldn’t stand still for mounting. If he hadn’t been so anxious to get on the trail with Samantha, he would have worked with the unruly beast. He knew once in the saddle, he and Freedom would work things out.

No sooner did Cole manage to get a leg over, when he found himself on the ground. There was a pain in his rear and no air in his lungs. Colorful stars burst into his vision. He rolled to his side easing the discomfort and tried not to panic for lack of air.

Over the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears, he heard Samantha. She was yelling. Did Octavious get spooked and throw her too? Was she hurt? Cole scrambled to his feet, still not able to breathe. He searched for her wildly. If he’d had any air in his lungs, the sight before him would have taken his breath away.

Samantha stood on the ground, and she held the lead rope which was attached Freedom.

“Ha!” she yelled authoritatively and swung the end of the lead toward Freedom’s flank. She made the horse run in circles around her. Over and over she swung the rope and pushed the horse to run. With one step and a move from her hand, she changed Freedom’s direction.

“Move!” Samantha commanded the horse, and the same dance ensued in the opposite direction.

Cole realized he was breathing again, but did not speak. He stood out of the way and watched. His mild, fragile Samantha, commanded and controlled the powerful animal. Suddenly, Samantha stopped driving Freedom, who penitently came toward her. Samantha scratched and rubbed all over the sweat streaked horse. Cole held his breath again as Samantha, in one swift move, swung atop Freedom.

“Ha!” With expert movements, she guided Freedom in tight circles. The horse’s nose almost touched its flank. A few moments later, she switched directions. Samantha stopped the spinning and gave more rubs and scratches. Samantha spoke to Freedom. Cole couldn’t hear her, but he could see her lips move and Freedom’s ears twitched on her low hung head in response. Finally, Samantha clucked and drove Freedom forward a few steps, then back.

Samantha stared at him. He knew this look now. She waited for him to condemn or commend, but twice now today she had left him speechless. Instead of words, he offered his most impressive smile, which she returned in full. It was a rare and precious gift he would cherish.

“Let’s go,” she said and spurred Freedom forward.

****

Samantha removed Freedom’s bridle while Cole hobbled the horse with a few thick straps of leather. Octavious wouldn’t go anywhere, but he didn’t trust Freedom to stay around without a little help. They had ridden for almost an hour when he noticed Samantha’s fatigue. He considered it had been five years since she had ridden and hadn’t the stamina to continue without a break. He tried to picture her on horseback before she went to the finishing school, and with a grimace, he realized it had been longer than five years since she had ridden, or done much of anything physical. The chastity belt would have hindered any such activities.

Still, her instant connection with Freedom was impressive. Not many people could approach an unruly horse for the first time and have it so responsive. A few rusty gears in his own mind came to life, and he spoke without thinking.

“You’ve been sneaking out to the stables!” He stood to face a cornered Samantha. Her eyes wide, mouth in a silent O. The leather of the bridles in her hand whined under the strain of her twisting.

“You’ve been taking my boots, and you’re the one who got them dirty!” Cole laughed and scratched a contentedly grazing Freedom’s rump. Samantha relaxed a bit and tried a laugh of her own, but Cole still knew she was waiting for his approval.

“You did a good job with her. She trusts you.”

“Thank you,” Samantha whispered.

“Someday you’re going to have to tell me how you sneak around without getting caught.” He gathered the saddlebags and blankets to set up a not so impromptu picnic. Cole had planned on stopping to have a late lunch, but hadn’t considered that Samantha would be so exhausted. She walked unsteadily to the large tree at the edge of the meadow where Cole laid out the blankets for them. Even her arms shook with overuse. They may have to stay at the inn in the nearby town of Sagewood, instead of continuing on to his manor.

He was glad to see Samantha eating heartily of the crusty bread and turkey legs in their pack. It wasn’t their usual four course lunch, but that would have been hard to carry in the saddle bags. When they were done he suggested she try and take a nap. He offered his lap as a pillow which she hesitantly accepted.

Cole ignored the rough bark at his back and watched the patchwork of shadow and sun created through the canopy of leaves as they played across Samantha’s face. She rested on her back with her eyes closed, but after a few minutes still wasn’t asleep. He wished she could relax in his lap, but she held her body ridged at the contact. Since she was awake anyway, he picked up the end of her braid and tickled her nose with the loose ends. She swatted at the perceived insect. He did it again with the same reaction. After a few more interruptions, she opened her eyes to see his little trick. She smiled and turned on her side, settling her head more comfortably facing his outstretched legs.

He took a chance and began to stroke her hair, starting at her forehead and smoothing it back toward the braid. She tensed, but quickly relaxed into the soothing rhythm.

“You should ask me five questions.” Cole spoke softly, as not to disturb the sounds of lazy birds, rustling grass and chomping horses the warm breeze carried. After a moment he thought she must have fallen asleep.

“What’s your favorite food?” her tone matched his reverence for the quiet around them.

“Chocolate mousse,” he chuckled, and she did too. The sound wrapped around him and sparked something in his chest. It was painful, but pleasurable too.

“What’s your favorite color?” she punctuated the question with a yawn and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“Green, like Samantha’s eyes.” She laughed again, and the pressure in his chest increased. The sensation was terrifying; tempting.

Samantha picked a small yellow flower just at the edge of the blankets and twirled it in her fingers. She spoke hesitantly. “What is your favorite part of me?”

He could see the flush in her cheeks, as he looked over her shoulder. “Your brain.”

Samantha laughed; really laughed. Her arms wrapped around her stomach, shoulders shaking, as she continued. He didn’t join her. Inside Cole the pressure peaked and erupted. Warmth spread from his consumed heart and flooded his body. He burned with a desire he’d never felt before and was now afraid to touch. He knew what this feeling was. He was afraid to name it.

“What was your favorite activity as a child?” she asked, remnants of humor still clinging to her words.

“I guess that would have to be getting lost in the woods with my older brother, Morgan. We would roam for hours. Pretending we were knights, building traps, or just exploring.”

“You miss him,” she stated, tucking the belligerent lock of hair behind her ear again.

“I do. He was my best friend. He kept me in line.” He hoped she would move on to another question. This wasn’t a topic he was ready to delve into with her.

A few moments passed and she asked through a yawn, “Can I ask a not favorite question?”

“Well, it’s my game and I make the rules. So I say your last question can be a not favorite one.”

“King Arnold said we could travel if you followed his concessions. What were they?”

“Ahhh…good question. He said you would have to wear the chastity belt outside of the castle or manor.”

Samantha bolted upright, twisting to look him in the eye, anger and hurt evident in hers. Cole just smiled his devilish smile and waited. The breeze tossed the rebellious lock back into her face which slowly transformed into a smirk.

“Thank you for playing.” Samantha whispered. “Your gift.” She quickly kissed him on the cheek. She lay back down in his lap, this time facing him, relaxed. Her eyes were closed tight, and she smiled through a glowing blush. The fire on her cheeks was no match for the fire in his heart.

****

“Help!” Samantha screamed. “Somebody help me!”

She couldn’t move, gripped by something more than fear. All she saw was white as she looked up, except for the face. The woman looked over her, sneering, eyes as pale blue as her hair was dark.

“You are nothing.” Her blood red lips snarled against a colorless face. Samantha braced for the pain.

“Help!” someone else called, and the woman began to fade. The white walls darkened into black, and Samantha was aware of being able to move again. This was why she didn’t sleep. She never dreamed, there were only nightmares. Although, this time she closed her eyes to drift, the nightmares had been kept at bay until the end.

“Help!”

The cry brought her fully conscious. For a moment, she was disoriented as she took in the meadow before her and the man sleeping against the tree frighteningly close.

“Cole.” She whispered, as memory trickled in. The nightmares did that. They robbed her of the present.

“Somebody help!” The cry was distant, barely audible.

“Cole.” He stirred, hand searching for something in his lap.

“Cole.” Samantha said louder. She should shake him, try and rouse him. Another sound filtered into the meadow, the crunch of metal gears and thump of hydraulic pistons. The distant sound was followed by a slight tremor through the ground.

“Cole!” Samantha yelled. This time she reached without hesitation, shaking his shoulder.

“Samantha?” His eyes opened, a smile on his face. It faded quickly at the concern etched in hers.

“Help!” The voice, much closer now and definitely a child’s, sent Cole to his feet. He unsheathed his sword which was propped against their tree. His other hand rested at the ready on his pistol. The metallic noise began to repeat itself every few seconds. Each time it sent a stronger and stronger shudder through the meadow.

“Help!” A young peasant boy burst through the tree line not far from their picnic site. He didn’t see Samantha and Cole and continued his panic stricken retreat.

“Christopher!” Cole called out and ran to the boy. The child stopped midstride and turned to them.

“Cole?” he cried in a mixture of relief and terror.

“What are you doing here? What’s going on?” Cole implored, while his arms encircled the youth with a fatherly embrace. The boy clung to him. Tears streaked his face, but he pushed away to address his Prince.

“Fate.” His eyes were wide with the truth of the terror.

“Where? How many?” Cole unholstered his pistol, and the boy pointed toward the increasing mechanical sound. The boy offered no more information.

“Come on.” Cole commanded.

“Get the bridles.” He told Samantha. He need not have ordered her. The tone of his voice left no room for disobedience, in either her or the boy. In a matter of moments, the boy was settled on Octavious while Samantha bridled the horse.

“Ride to town. Alert the guardsmen at the garrison. I have to find out what we’re dealing with.” Christopher’s eyes were wide, and his lip trembled. “You can do this.” Cole encouraged, clasping the boy by the shoulder like a man. The boy sat straighter in the confidence of the Prince. “Lead them back here, and hurry!” Cole slapped Octavious’ rump, and the horse charged forward. Before the boy and horse were out of the clearing, Cole directed Samantha.

“You have daggers?”

“No.” she replied confused.

“Take this.” He handed her a dagger that had been sheathed in his boot. “Unhobble Freedom, and ride south after the boy. You can’t miss the road. Take it east and you’ll come to the town. They’ll take care of you.”

Cole leaned toward her but hesitated. He turned back to the forest, sword and pistol at the ready. Samantha stood, frozen. A flock of black birds erupted from the forest canopy, as the trees trembled with each squelch of mechanics and hum of hydraulics. Breaking free from her fear, Sam ran toward Freedom. The horse stood on the opposite side of the meadow observing the forest, ears flicking nervously. She let Samantha approach, but would have nothing to do with the attempts at unbuckling the hobble. Samantha knew her own fear fueled Freedom’s. Her efforts to calm herself fell short as she struggled to set the hobbling horse free.