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And rode.
Elina the Heartless
The River West
“Come, wife.” Warrick strode into the cabin, wearing a grin. “You will wish to see this.”
He scooped her up from the bed and Elina eagerly circled her arms around his neck. She’d taken a few steps that morn and would take her exercise again later, but could hardly leave the cabin under her own power, let alone stride quickly onto the deck of the river barge as Warrick was doing.
She cared not where they were going. Simply the warmth of sunshine upon her face and the gentle breeze of the barge’s movement made their destination many times preferable to another moment spent in the cabin.
The purge had been as bad as Warrick said it would be. Perhaps worse. Elina was certain that if not for the rings, she would be dead. That fortnight had been a blur of fever and pain…but with Warrick always there. Holding her. Helping her. Urging her to stay with him, always to stay with him.
Near ten days had passed since the harrowing purge had ended, and when Elina was not sleeping the day away, she was slowly regaining her strength.
Although she could barely walk more than a few steps, already she was so much better. The constant pain and nausea were gone. She could still not eat much but only because even that small activity taxed her strength. But what she did eat remained in her stomach.
And Warrick’s hair had grown.
For certain it had been doing so all this time—and it was still short by any standard. Yet only now, as she combed her fingers through the bristled strands at the back of his head, did she realize they had grown longer than her fingertips. No longer freshly shaved, they’d also softened. And the sun caught the short ends in such a wonderful light, making the dark tips seem near blond when she looked at them just so. The light upon his profile was even more fascinating, a stark play of angles and shadows.
“There on the riverside,” Warrick said—then caught her blatantly staring at him. She’d wished to be out of her cabin to see something new…yet here she was, looking at him instead of what was around them. Just as she looked at him within her cabin.
No matter where she was, Warrick was always the finest view.
Elina flushed but flashed an unrepentant grin. She’d always loved looking at him. Had loved the thrill that the sight of his powerful body gave to hers. Yet now the thrill was…different. Deeper. She still found him meltingly appealing, yet seeing him also filled her with such happiness. To have Warrick near, to spend time with him produced a level of joy and contentment that she’d never even dreamed of.
These past days, as she’d spent longer hours awake and he’d spent them with her, it had occurred to Elina that she’d never had a friend before. Yet now she did. She’d found the finest of friends in Warrick.
And so much more.
Huskily he said, “If you wish, I will take you back to the cabin.”
Oh, she wished he could. But truthfully, Elina was not yet strong enough for it. As Warrick knew very well, too.
With a sigh, she looked to the riverside. She felt the gentle kiss he placed on her ribbon-covered wrist as her gaze swept the landscape. Boulders and hills and—
Her mouth dropped open. “Is that a statue of a giant?”
“A troll. Or used to be, before it was turned to stone.”
Yes, now Elina could discern how the proportions were all wrong for a giant human—the head too domed; the mouth too wide and with loose, slavering lips; the body too heavily built for its frame though packed with muscle.
Warrick’s horse was truly well named, as he could also be described so.
“Why was it turned to stone?”
“The legend says that he angered Anhera.”
“Oh! The giant who attempted to steal her wings?”
“That is how the legend is sometimes told. But it was a troll, not a giant.”
“Perhaps she stoned both. Anhera seems to enjoy that particular method of punishment. Though the stone sickness in Galoth…” Elina shook her head. “She punished those who did not deserve it.”
“She did,” Warrick said grimly—then jostled her a little, as if to shake them out of their sudden solemnity. “The first time Bannin and I came this way to Galoth was before the jewels were taken. I was wandering the deck at night and saw the troll standing with the moon behind it. I had no notion that it was only stone.”
Elina grinned. She could well imagine how terrifying the troll would appear. “What did you do?”
“Shouted and woke everyone, waving a torch and threatening the troll with my axe. I am still known in Galoth as Warrick the Trollslayer. And not one person has ever mistaken that name for anything but what it is—they all know me for a fool.”
