“We must keep moving,” she said. “Idris, please.”
With a sigh, he hopped out of the cart so the horse wouldn’t have to carry him too. They were moving again.
She was tall, heavy, stronger than she’d ever been. Every part of her body pulsated with life. There were no aches, no weaknesses… She looked down at her hands. Fine stitches wrapped around every finger, ran across her palms and met thicker, coarser stitches at her wrists.
The next time she woke up, she vaguely registered that someone was carrying her. Her head lolled back, she caught a glimpse of Idris’s tired face above her, then the vastness of the gray sky.
She coughed, and this time, it sounded wet. Gurgling.
Chapter Thirteen
She should’ve known this man’s abdomen was harder than iron.
By the time the snowstorm abated, Briar and Rune had been stuck in the forester’s house for three days. The roads weren’t exactly practicable, but she needed to get out of there, so she saddled Rose and Nettle.
Rose was weak, and to protect her, Briar rode her for short stretches of time and got off when the track was bad. Rune was riding Nettle, who was healthy, well fed, and could carry his weight. It was necessary, since the man was blind and mostly useless with his walking stick.
Briar had found a scarf and tied it around his head to cover his empty eye sockets. He was nicer to look at now, and she didn’t avert her gaze as often. He still talked little.
He barely ate, too.
After the foolishness he’d pulled, she’d been so upset with him that she’d ignored him for a day and a night, even as they were bound together at the wrist. The length of rope was generous enough that they didn’t have to sit too close. They slept in the bedroom, where she took the bed and made a nest of blankets and pillows for him on the floor. They went to the outhouse together when either of them needed it, and the only time she’d allowed him to be alone in a room was when they’d bathed. Even then, she’d washed quickly, with the door cracked open, and when it was his turn, she stood guard by the door, senses alert.
“You will never get out of my sight again.”
She’d meant it.
He hadn’t wanted to eat the meal she’d cooked that first night, so she’d eaten it all in anger. The next day, she sat a plate of food before him, and he barely picked at it. More for her. It continued like that, until Briar realized he was intentionallystarving himself. As if that were possible. She’d rolled her eyes and carried on, cooking for herself and eating everything. She was busy caring for Rose and Nettle, who were beasts, so naturally, they needed someone to feed and water them. Rune wasn’t a beast, as far as she was concerned. Well, not that kind of beast. She refused to hover over him any more than necessary.
She’d tried to teach him how to manage with the walking stick, so he wouldn’t run into furniture every five steps he took. He’d relented at her insistence, but his lack of enthusiasm made her want to pull her hair out. Had she not been successful training Seraphina, she would’ve thought she was a bad teacher. No. Rune was a bad student. He pouted and sulked, choosing to spend hours unmoving rather than engaging with Briar and her well-intentioned lessons.
She’d shoveled snow every day, keeping the path that led to the road clear. The moment it stopped snowing as heavily, and the weather seemed like it might hold for a while, she hurried to leave the comfort of the forester’s house behind. She packed provisions for two days, and they were on their way before dawn.
“Let’s stop and eat something,” Briar said after three hours of riding.
They’d just emerged from the forest, and since they were out of the Harvester’s territory, they could drop their guard a little. They’d managed to cross the front line without being noticed.
Rune got down, and Briar tethered the horses. It was unamusing how she herself was tethered. To him. The rope had given her a rash, so she applied cold cream twice a day. On the bright side, her shoulder was better, and her limp wasn’t as pronounced. She’d caught a bit of a cold after plunging into the frozen lake, but broth, hot tea, and four nights of sleep in an honest bed had done her good. She still got the sniffles, but those would fade eventually. Of course, Rune hadn’t even been bothered by a stray sneeze.
She dug into their provisions and offered him a piece of buttered bread laid with cheese and speck, meticulously prepared and wrapped in cloth the night before. Rune accepted it but didn’t touch it. While Briar ate ravenously, he held it in the palm of his hand, his head turned toward the pale sun. When she was done, she rolled her eyes, took it back and ate it in a few bites. She pushed a flask of beer in his hand, and from that, he did drink.
“I don’t know what to do with you anymore,” she said. “You probably can’t tell because of your… unfortunate condition, but I am trying.”
“I know you are,” he said in that deep, rumbling voice of his. Briar felt a shiver run through her bones. “You should leave me.”
“Leave you… where?”
“Behind.”
“So the Harvester’s men can find you and take you back to him? Not a chance.”
She pulled at the rope more to make a point than anything. They got on the horses and were back on the road. Late afternoon, the weather turned, and Briar started thinking about a place for the night. There were still abandoned buildings if they looked for them, but an inn sounded better. She looked Rune over and appreciated that if he pulled his hood down low and kept his hands tucked into his sleeves, no one would ask questions. He and Seraphina had stayed at an inn for five days without any trouble. Briar had money for a room. However, the rope would have to go.
Not that it ensured anything. If Rune wanted to be free of her, he could just rip it off, turn on his heel, and leave. She couldn’t stop him. She would try, maybe come close to killing herself again, but she knew that if he started walking in the opposite direction, she could cling to him, beat him with his own stick, jump onto his back, bite him, or tie the rope around himand Nettle and try to pull him that way, and it would all fail. Realistically, all she could use against him were her words and the adopted attitude of a shrill, fundamentally disappointed and eternally exasperated mother who knew where and how deep to cut. Playing upon his guilt. She’d learned early and from the best.
Though a more likely explanation was that in his blind state, Rune had become dependent on her. What would he do on his own? Find another lake to jump in? Become dependent on someone else? There were no options. He nodded at her lengthy, annoyed speeches out of inertia, not because her shaming got through to him.
It was after sundown that Briar found an inn tucked away from the main road, and paid for a room and for the horses to be brushed, watered, and fed. She led Rune up the stairs, herding him like he was cattle. When he tripped and nearly stabbed himself in the gut with the end of the banister, she lunged forward and shoved her hand between the wood and his stomach. Swore under her breath when her fingers were crushed. She should’ve known this man’s abdomen was harder than iron.
