Chapter 29

Beyond sorry it took so long, also sorry if this chapter is boring. I've been crazy busy with life and sickness. Enjoy!!!!

The following morning I wake up with a throbbing head making packing miserable and with only one good hand unthinkable. I vomit twice while tearing down my tent and again when I load the wagon with my larger belongings. An hour goes by, then another until I finally see Claire as I'm loading my personal items on my horse. In one hand she has a handful of spanish moss and feeds a nearby horse, patting it on its muscular neck. On its rear-end I note that the few items she owns are tucked neatly behind the saddle. She wears the same olive green dress from the night before, filling it out. Tugging on the last strap of my saddle bag, I slip it through the buckle before walking over to her to say hello.

"Good morning," I greet, running my fingers through her mare's tail. Claire's blue eyes snap to mine, not aware that I made my way over to her.

"Morning Thomas," she says, examining me. "Are you alright?"

I give a shrug and cross my arms over my chest. "Well enough. Probably had too much ale last night," I say. "So you've got your own horse now I see?" I ask lightly. "No need to ride with me anymore, although I'll admit I'll miss your company." It's a weak attempt at flirtation, but it feels strange leaving things between us strained.

Her cheeks flush and she attempts to hide a smile. "Just because I'll be on my own horse doesn't mean we can't ride together. I'd miss your company too much myself, if not."

Smirking, I dig in my pocket and pull out a strip of dried venison from our storage and hand it to her. She takes it and tears off a bite before thanking me. "I wasn't sure if we'd get breakfast or not," she says.

"We probably will only get a meal a day from here on out. Life on the road can be rough, especially when there's a few thousand of you. We have what's in the barrels and anything we can find on the way back and that's it," I say. It isn't uncommon to go to bed still hungry when traveling back.

"So we won't be stopping anywhere?" she asks curiously.

I give my head a shake. "No. Not until we split up so I can take you to Riverton." Someone calls my name in the distance and I turn my head, seeing Nik waving at me with Morgan at his side.

"About last night," Claire says abruptly and tucks a strand of hair behind an ear as I turn back to face her. I look at her expectantly, waiting to hear what she has to say. "It's not that I didn't want to join you. It's just that-" she begins, but is cut off again by Nik calling to me. I turn around and hold up a finger telling him to give me a moment before facing Claire for the second time.

"Can you hold that thought and we talk about it once we're riding? I don't mean to be rude but," I say and she gives a nod followed by a smile. "I'll find you, promise." I then jog over to Nik and Morgan who are arguing about Morgan's riding situation. Morgan thinks he is capable of riding by himself, while Nik insists that Morgan sits with him on his stallion. Finding middle ground, I help Morgan settle on the idea of his horse being tied to Nik's, allowing him to not have to worry about guiding it. Then for the next hour everyone finishes up loading and we're finally on the road. As we pass by the charred remains of our dead, many break out into a hymn telling them a final goodbye.

Knowing we cannot take the path through the swamp, I instruct Rory to lead the men the way we originally came through a vast pasture. He tries to apologize for the night before but I wave him off, not wanting to hear what he has to say. Instead, I ride back seeking out Claire until I find her near the tail end of the caravan. Her cheeks are flushed from the heat and she has the sleeves of her dress pushed up to her elbows. When she notices me riding her way she offers a small wave. Darla–who rides next to her–greets me as I cut in and join the two on the other side of Claire.

"Morning Thomas. Did you enjoy the rest of your night?" Darla asks, flashing a smile.

I chuckle and shrug my shoulders. "Aye, you could say that although this morning I've had my regrets." I glance at Claire before returning my gaze to Darla.

"How's your hand?" Darla inquires, looking at how I carry the reins awkwardly in my left hand.

"Hurts–quite a bit actually. I'm not looking forward to relearning how to swing a sword when it's healed. Could be worse though I suppose so I shouldn't complain," I answer.

Darla's dark eyes tighten and she nods and I know she's thinking of those we lost. Blinking, she tells us she's going to catch up with some of the other women leaving the two of us alone. I waste no time.

"So you were saying?" I ask, referring to our conversation that was cut short earlier.

Claire bites her bottom lip, tugging at the delicate skin with her teeth. "Yes," she begins, and fiddles with the saddle horn not meeting my gaze. "It's not that I didn't want to join you last night. It's no longer a secret that I fancy you or care for you– I've told you that myself–but...well I think with the weight of your recent losses you might be looking in the wrong places to heal. And with our journey coming to an end I think that it's best we try to save ourselves from further hurt."

I give my head a shake. "Don't you think it's too late for that?" I ask. She doesn't respond. "Whether or not I spend every evening with you from here until we get to Riverton isn't going to make saying goodbye any less painful Claire. You're a smart girl, you know that."

I watch her face heat up but not from flattery, but from anger. "One can try. Besides, I've never been involved with a man so I'm only trying to protect myself. You on the other hand, well," she pauses, shooting me a judgemental look.

My mouth hangs open slightly, amused never having seen Claire so sassy and I'll admit I like it, but I'm also somewhat offended. "What's that supposed to mean?" I ask pulling back on my reins. My horse halts to a standstill and Claire follows suit. The men who followed behind give us curious looks as they go around but do not question me. "I can't change my past or the women I've taken to bed. And frankly, I don't regret it. Sure there's a handful that I'd rather forget, but I slept with each one for a reason–good and bad."

"Do you really wish to have this conversation right now?" she asks, glancing at the men that pass by. "Here? RIght now?"

When all have passed leaving only the two of us to bring up the rear, she gives a sigh before responding. "I know but...you're Thomas Carlyle, once prince and now soon-to-be-king of Paevia. You've had girls your entire life swooning over you, stealing kisses in your elaborate halls in decadent gowns, their beauty almost too painful to look at. I'm not a looker, never claimed to be and I certainly don't feel adequate. I'm just a simple girl from the countryside who can't even bring myself to think about a nude man without feeling lightheaded. I've only ever kissed you, and each one was precious to me," she explains before closing her eyes.

When she opens them again they glisten as tears threaten to spill. "I guess the point I'm trying to make is that when I go to my abby I'll think about every moment I've ever shared with you for the rest of my life. And perhaps wish that things could have been different. I'll lay in my too-small of a bed and replay each day together at night. So yes, every night spent alone from now until our arrival will save my heart from further pain."

I look at her, long and hard. She fidgets in her saddle as my stare makes her uncomfortable. "I overheard you and Darla last night," I admit. "I didn't eavesdrop on purpose, I was only returning your blanket. I value how much your vows mean to you and how grounded you are when it comes to your beliefs. But there's an entire world out there for you to see..that you deserve to see. Let me show you. Let me take you where mountains reach as high as the sky, where lakes are as clear as crystals . Where dunes of sand stretch as far as the eye could see, where waves of salt water crash into jagged rocks bringing up creatures you wouldn't think exist. Why not come with me and still practice your faith? If you meant everything you just said about me, why are you going to choose the life of a nun over happiness?" I ask, my voice slightly raised. I'll admit I didn't intend this conversation to go this direction, but I refuse to allow these words to be left unsaid. "It cannot be a sin to see the beauty your God created."

Claire's face flushes a second time and she gives her head a slow shake. "I don't expect you to understand," she says before pausing. "I question my decision every day since I've met you. Even before then sometimes. I'd love for you to show me what else this world has to offer, but I am a woman of faith. The church is all I know. I wouldn't know the first thing about how to live somewhere else."

She chews her bottom lip before exhaling slowly. "I may whine about it from time to time, but I enjoy a life of simplicity. There's righteousness in accepting what little one has, to be content and not covet for more. To not complain about what you don't have."

Scoffing, I shake my head and look away, turning my focus to my men. Their forms are small in the distance as they continue down the path through the empty field. "You have me," I state, looking back at her. Her strawberry hair blows in the breeze. "You have my sword, my protection...I'd give you my life if you wanted it. I'd do anything for you...be anyone. If you want me to be a christian then so be it, but I'm not going to beg you to come back home with me, Claire," I say, pausing. "I want you to know how I feel about you before you make your decision."

She stares at me and gives her head a shake. "Don't say it," she whispers, but I do.

"I love you, Claire, and I think you love me too. In fact, I know you do," I state. "So there. I'd regret it if I never said the words out loud."

Her full lips press tightly together and she mutters something under her breath. "You really had to do this right now?"

Matching her expression, I shrug. "We're not getting any younger, and each day will bring us closer to Riverton. Best to let you mull things over for as long as you can," I state. iT'S unclear if I made the right decision by expressing my feelings for her, but there's no going back now. Glancing back at the caravan, I nod my head towards them. "Come, we've got to catch up." Clicking my teeth, I instruct my horse to head out and Claire follows suit in a canter. "I won't blame you if you choose to not speak to me for a while," I mention as we close the distance. She says nothing in return.

When we catch up, I tell her I'd look for her when we make camp and leave her with Darla before taking my place once again in front. Rory is still there and stiffens when I ride next to him.

"Can we talk about last night?" he says after a few beats.

In truth I've had my fill of talking for one day and I'd rather just revisit the conversation with Claire in my head, but knowing Rory, he's probably been spiraling with guilt all morning. "Seeing as we have nothing but time, sure."

He runs a hand through his dark hair before looking over at me, his dark eyes genuine. "I was drunk last night and I shouldn't have said the things I did," he begins.

"Being drunk is no excuse, Rory," I say, shooting him a scowl. "I never speak the way you do when I'm drunk. If you were anyone else other than my brother you'd have been in a stockade long ago, or stuck to a post with your ear nailed."

Rory gives a chuckle. "You've never been one keen on punishing. In fact, you admire those that speak their mind to those in charge." Glaring at him once, I know he is right. In the past when a soldier needed to be reprimanded I'd send him on a fool's errand or order him to clean the stables, only afterwards to tell him that I admired his courage to say what was on their mind. Of course, this has always been in the company of other soldiers, not in court or at formal events. They know better. Father never spared the rod when it came to finding suitable punishments to crimes, and sent many to the hangman's noose.

"Don't test me," I threaten, although it is empty. "Now back to your apology, because so far it's been shit."

Rory sighs and continues. "You have your ways of grieving, as I have mine. I shouldn't judge you for keeping to yourself all those days. But what I will say is that some of us needed you, to be strong for those that could not. We were worried for you. I was angry, felt somewhat abandoned. Warren was like a brother to us. Then there is father...I still haven't quite wrapped my head around that. We've lost so much within the last two weeks," he says. "Beth Ann tries to understand, but..." he trails.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I give my head a slow shake. "The women have lost people too, or have you forgotten the graves we dug at that church or the image of all those people swinging from the rafters?" I say. "You're not wrong about my abandonment, but I won't apologize for it."

We say nothing and continue down the beaten path through the vast field. "Speaking of Beth Ann, what's going to happen with her?" I ask, side-eying him.

His face darkens and he gives his full beard a scratch. "Well," he begins. "She doesn't want to return to the church with the other women so I thought it would be best if she stays with me. In the palace."

My brows narrow as I look at my brother. "She cannot be your royal courtesan forever you know, not like all your others. You'll have to either find a place for her to live or marry the girl."

Rory nods, agreeing with me. "Aye. I wouldn't want her to be like the other's. I actually have genuine feelings for her. You'll get to know her when we get home and understand. Hell, who knows, maybe I will end up marrying her."

At this I can't help but to give a sarcastic bark of laughter. "Rory, you worry your prick will fall off if you don't stick it in a new woman every week before meeting her so apologies if I don't take your words seriously." I hear a few chuckles come from behind us as my words are picked up by other ears.

Rory shoots me a look and waves me off with an audible "bah."

"So you love her then?" I press, wiping a bead of sweat from my brow.

He nods. "Aye. I do. At least I think I do. I've never been in love with a woman and whatever I feel is new to me, but I'd have to assume that is what this is."

Rolling my eyes, I give my head a shake. "So you're going to play house back home until you know for sure?"

He gives his brawny shoulder's a shrug. "That's the plan. Unless you make it some law that I can't after your coronation," he teases. "Enough of me though. What of you?"

"What about me?" I ask though I already know he is referring to Claire. When he says nothing I sigh and wince as a pain shoots down my bad hand as I grip my saddle. "Things are...not so black and white. We have feelings for each other but her heart is with the church, not me. I don't blame her for choosing that life over one in Paevia but I'd be lying if I said it didn't tear away at me. Oh well."

Rory looks at me with his dark eyes and opens his mouth before closing it. We ride in silence for a while until he speaks up. "So how long until you marry? Got any one in mind?" he asks, referring to the other women whose fathers' have offered me. "You know how the tradition goes..." he trails. And I do. Typically, if a man is not wed before his coronation, he hosts a ball within the week and chooses his bride that evening. It hasn't happened often--the last time being my grandfather and before that another king eighty years before him.

Giving my head a shake, I mutter "no" and we ride the rest of the day in silence. We stop a few times to water the horses and relieve ourselves and when we do I check on the wounded who still heal from their injuries before chatting with Morgan. We then saddle back up and continue and finally stop for the night in a large grassy plain that is large enough to fit our army. Seeing as that we're moving out in the morning, only half take the time to pitch their tents. There's no game around so we break into the rations and light fires carefully. I don't seek out Claire and allow her time to sort through our conversation. I go to bed early, stretching out on my bed roll and easily fall asleep.

This becomes a daily cycle for the next few days: riding for as long as we can, stopping to periodically hunt or take a break, and and sometimes drinking. Claire and and I only speak when she asks me how many days left until we split to head to Riverton. I tell her three.

The next day when we make our way through the Groshen forest, a storm blows through forcing us to make camp very early in the day. We do our best to create shelter, but the rain is torrential and the wind doesn't help so most of us sit at the base of the pines and do our best to cover ourselves with our capes. Knowing that Claire is without one, I offer her mine which she takes with a small thanks and joins Darla and the other women a few tree's over. We don't eat that day and wood is too wet for fire. Making the best of things many men go out to forage for edible plants and we break into the rations again. Sleep evades most of us that night and the following morning we are exhausted but press on and welcome the sun as it dries our drenched clothes.

The morning we are to split for Riverton I take my time in the morning and say goodbye to many of my men, promising to meet them back in Paevia. I give instructions to Gale to let the families of the fallen know immediately once he arrives and I select the few men to accompany me and the women: Markus, Nik, the young soldier Bastian with long dark curls that reach his shoulder, and another I pick randomly who's name I only learn as I do, Uriah whose light colored eyes contrast against his dark skin.

As I wait patiently for Beth Ann, Darla and two other women say goodbye to those that plan to return to the church. As Claire weeps at their words and final embraces, I seek out Rory and find him brushing his horse.

"Alright, you and the other generals are in charge of getting the men back home. I know you don't like Durza but if he makes any suggestions you don't agree with don't argue with him," I say as I walk up. "I should only be two weeks at most behind your arrival, if I'm going to be any later I'll send a raven."

Rory pockets the brush in his saddle, giving me a nod. "Durza's a prick but alright. Travel safe, brother," he says and we shake hands, clasping each other's forearms. When I turn to leave, he places a hand on my shoulder and says softly, "I really am sorry about Claire but you're doing right by her."

"It's all I can do," I reply." Pressing my lips into a line I walk away without another word. Walking back over to the group of women, I count those that are returning to the church: six. When Beth Ann notices me, she releases the hand of one of the women and dabs at her eye with the sleeve of her dress.

"You'll take good care of them, right? Make sure they arrive safely?" she asks me, her blonde hair sitting atop her head in a loose bun.

"Aye. With my life I swear it," I promise her.

Darla steps in, placing a slender arm around Beth Ann's shoulder and gives it a pat. "We know you will. We just...care, you know? They're are sisters," she says, glancing at Claire. "They always will be." Looking over at Claire, I see her pale cheeks are flushed and tear streaked. Her eyes are red which only make the azure color stand out in contrast. I want to console her, offer her words at the very least but now is not the time.

"The horses are ready, Tommy," Nik says a few yards behind us, signaling it is time for our departure. I offer Beth Ann, Darla, and the other two women a smile. "See you four when I return. Keep my brother in line," I say, raising a brow at Beth Ann. With that, I turn around and face the other six women, nodding my head towards the horses. Nik, Markus and I help them up onto their mounts, their small soft hands encased in our calloused ones.

Claire is last and I walk over to assist her, taking her by the hand and placing the other on her waist. When she's settled in her saddle, I give her a kind smile and dig into my pocket for a few strips of jerky I saved from this morning. "Here," I say, holding it up to her. "It might make you feel a little better."

"Isn't this your breakfast though?" she asks, taking it cautiously. Her eyes are puffy and she gives a sniffle.

I shrug my shoulders. "I'm not hungry," I lie and turn on my heel before mounting my own horse. With a final wave, I lead our small party down the winding road towards Riverton.