Chapter 20
Amberly busied herself in the kitchen, the early morning sun proving light but no heat. Putting the pot on to boil, she began to lay out the cheese cloth for the herbs. She added the last of the herbs and tied it tight.
This has to help the fever. If it doesn’t I don’t know what else I can do. Concern touching every corner of her face.
Pouring the boiling water into the bowl and adding the herb bundle to steep, she set about making a small breakfast for Gertrude. That poor woman hasn’t eaten in days I bet.
Pulling a small loaf of bread from her pack, she began slicing.
Ah, stale. She was disappointed, it was the last of the bread she had from home.
She went back to her pack to see if she had anything left to make up for the stale bread. A small piece of smoked fish, and a couple pieces of cheese, was all that was left.
It will have to do for now. She thought while placing it all on a plate.
The herb tea was still hot, so she decided to bring the food first and comeback with the empty plate to get it.
Walking back up the stairs, moving down that hall, each passing step more weight seemed to weigh on her shoulders. Entering the room quietly to not disturb, she moved to the bed. Gertrude was sitting there hand still stroking her daughters hair.
“I brought you something to eat.” At the sound of Amberly’s voice Gertrude turned her head upwards.
“Thank you, but I am not hungry.”
Amberly sighed inwardly. She had seen this before when she was little. Grandmother wouldn’t eat at certain times of the year, just sit in her room and cry. Amberly knew she needed to get her to eat, or caring for her child was going to be impossible.
“Please, try just a little. It will help you.”
Gertrude saw that she was not going to stop asking. Picked up a small piece of cheese and began nibbling on it.
When the cheese and bread were gone, Amberly went to get the tea. Walking back to the kitchen, plate in hand, she found Thomas standing at the hearth.
“Good morning Thomas.” Her voice shifting to one of politeness.
“Good morning.” His reply short.
Placing the plate down, she moved to the bowl with the herb tea. Cool enough. She thought and poured it into a cup.
Before heading back upstairs she turned to Thomas.
“Anything I can do for you?”
Thomas paused, she thought he looked confused by the question.
“No.” was his only response.
Wondering what was bothering him, she thought it was probably just the gravity of the situation they were in, let it go and went back upstairs.
That noon the fever was still raging. Nothing she did seemed to make a difference. To make matters worse her breathing had become slower and more labored. Then a sharp inhale startled them. It was like trying to suck air through a curtain. She held it for a moment and then a long rattling exhale.
“Her breathing stopped, her chest is not moving” Amberly’s panic rising.
Trembling she moved to the bed. Her hand visibly shaking as she reached out to feel her chest for a heartbeat.
There was none.
Gertrude, let out a wail, sobbing, screaming. “Come back baby, come back.”
Amberly backed away from the bed, backed away until her back met the wall. Sliding down the wall using it for balance, she sat on her heels and cried.
The rest of the family came hearing Gertrudes’ sadness. Amberly moved out of the room to let them grieve. Heading back to the kitchen, she felt the walls closing in on her, the room felt too small, threating to suffocate her. She grabbed her cloak and went outside.
The cool air felt good on her hot skin. She paced the small back yard.
The family doesn’t need me now, I should give them some space. She thought, walking out the gate she pulled her hood up on her cloak and headed toward where she thought market row was.
Moving through the streets, she thought it felt good to be moving like this again. The past few days offered her very little time to move and stretch. Turning down an alley, she got hit with a familiar fragrance. The smell of fresh baked bread. Following that smell she wound up at a small bakery, next to a tavern, the two buildings smells fighting one another.
Entering the bakery, she noticed the calm of it. Just bread, no one sick, no one injured, no threat to her. The smell intoxicating to her. She thought back to the day before he left. She was making bread just like this, the kitchen smelled just like this.
I wonder if he enjoyed it. She thought bringing a little color to her cheeks.
Taking her time in the bakery, savoring the smells, longing to taste them all. She dreaded the thought of leaving this small haven. The warmth of the bread, the soft hum of the shop, here, at least, the world outside couldn’t touch her. The door opened. A man stepped in red cloak, blackened steel gauntlets.
A Warden.
She shrank back, pulling her hood up, hands curling around the edges of her cloak. If she could vanish, she would. This safe place she had found, no longer safe.
Moving past the Warden to the door, she opened it quick and stepped out into the street wanting to be anywhere but here.
With the sun beginning to set, its warmth and light slowly being blocked out by the surrounding buildings, she needed to make a decision fast. That Warden would not be in the bakery much longer, and she did not want to be around when he did.
Behind her, the door creaked open again. The Warden.
Her pulse quickened.
I don’t know the way back. Not fast enough. Not safe.
A tavern, then. Faces, noise, somewhere to disappear.
She hesitated only a heartbeat. Then moved.
Standing in the entrance, she hesitated, eyes adjusting to the dark, candlelit interior.
The smells of smoke, ale, and sweat hit her first.
She took a few steadying breaths. One... two... three.
Slowly, she reached up and lowered her hood.
Her gaze swept the room.
Too empty.
A knot twisted tighter in her chest. Nowhere to disappear in a room this bare.
Not good. Not good.
She started to turn, then froze.
Across the room, a familiar face.
Greycen.
Her breath hitched. Her fear didn’t leave, but it twisted.
Into something deeper.
Into something worse.
What if he didn’t want to see her?
Greycen didn’t move, he didn’t dare blink, he hardly even breathed.
“This is dangerous.” The voice growled low, menacing. “She’s not supposed to be here.”
Greycen ignored it.
She looked haunted, tired, older, in a way he could not describe. Almost like all of life slammed into her at once.
They both stared at each other for a moment before she made the first step towards him.
She took one slow step, then another.
He hadn’t expected to see her again, least of all here, in this city. In this tavern.
“Get up, leave.” The voice coiled in his ear like a snake ready to strike. “This is how they pull you under. You stay, you drown.”
Greycen stayed.
Amberly reached the edge of the table, her hands trembling. In a soft voice, low, scared. “I… I didn’t think I’d find you.”
The torment in her voice cut straight through him.
He opened his mouth, but the words did not come.
Raising a hand he gestured for her to sit.
She moved the chair closest to the wall, next to him, not across, and sat, still staring at the door.
Greycen studied her in the low light. Her clothes showing hints of travel. Her face, she looked like she hadn’t slept. Or eaten.
“Ask her what she is running from.” The voice hissed.
Greycens jaw tightened.
“I didn’t think you’d come to Averndale.” His voice quiet.
Amberly didn’t look at him. “Neither did I.”
Then silence. Not uncomfortable, shared.
“A family needed help,” she said, still watching the door. “A sick girl. Grandmother was too old to make the trip. I volunteered.” Turning her head slightly to face him. “The girl died this past noon.”
Her words landed like a knot in his gut. “I’m sorry…”
Amberly gave him a small nod. “I am too.”
She glanced at her hands in her lap, the knuckles white from her grip. “I’ve been wandering the streets since she passed. I didn’t know where else to go.”
Greycen leaned back in his chair, his gaze still intently watching her. “This city isn’t safe.”
“I know.” Her head snapped up at him, voice sharp with temper. “But right this instant, you are.”
“She’s in danger, it isn’t safe. She’s not your burden.” The voice burned in his mind.
He ignored the voice, something about her right now was calling to him, pleading with him. He couldn’t place it, he didn’t want to.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said quietly.
“I know,” she whispered. “But I am.”
They sat in silence again.
Amberly’s eyes never left the door.
When it creaked open, she tensed.
A Warden stepped in from the dark.
She recoiled, instinctively. Panic tightening her chest.
Her fingers fumbled at the edge of her cloak, trying to raise the hood, trying to disappear.
She stood, rigid, breath shallow. Her thoughts screamed a single word: Run.
A hand caught her wrist.
“What’s happened?” Greycen’s voice wasn’t a question, it was a demand.
“N… N… No…” was all she could manage.
“Sit.” His voice, steady. “That Warden is no threat to you.”
She turned to him, eyes wide, pleading. “Let me go. Let me leave. I… I have to go.”
Greycen didn’t let go. His grip firm. “Sit. Tell me what’s happened.”
“Tell you what happened?” She whispered to herself.
Her voice trembled, but there was heat under it.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened when you disappeared without a word. Why I should believe you, that the Warden over there is no threat to me?”
She was lashing out, not just at him, at everything. At the fear that hadn’t stopped shaking her hands, the grief of the day.
“Mmmm. She’s angry,” the voice mocking. “Anger looks good on her.”
Greycen sat listening, letting her words linger, heavy. They weren’t all for him. The day had been tough, something happened before the girl too. Something she hadn’t said yet.
She continued. “When you left, no goodbye, no thank you. Nothing. You snuck out of the house like a thief escaping.” Tears slid down her cheeks.
“Then when I got here.” She took a ragged breath. “That Warden, that… that…”
She shuddered violently, like the memory itself struck her.
Greycen spoke quietly.
“I’m sorry.”
He paused, meaning it.
“You and Hilde had been more than kind to me. I didn’t want to be a burden. I thought… leaving quietly was the least I could do.”
She glared at him through the tears in her eyes. “Excuses.”
The word landed like a slap. And to his surprise, it stung.
“Aww. Did she hurt your feelings?” The voice full of mockery. “Grow up. She’s just setting the hook.”
Greycen flinched.
“You really want to know what happened?” Her voice turned cold.
“You sure? You can still leave… Quietly.”
Greycen didn’t move.
He just nodded.
She drew a sharp breath.
“When I arrived, we were stopped at the gate.”
She paused, swallowing hard.
“A Warden. Big man. His eyes full of lust. Claiming me.”
Her hands trembling in front of her. Curling them into fists. She continued.
“He climbed into the cart with me…” Her voice cracking. “He licked me.” Her voice caught in her throat. “Sniffed me.”
A single tear rolling down her cheek.
“No one stopped him.”
Her voice so quiet, barely a whisper.
“He promised to find me.”
Greycen’s jaw clenched. His eyes snapped to the figure across the tavern.
Alswith.
The conversation from earlier. The warning. “Found someone… A girl.”
The way they spoke about her. “Eyes, scent, tits…”
He looked at Amberly. It was her. The girl he was hunting. The girl sitting at his table.
Rage guiding his actions now.
The name. He needed the name. The one Alswith had whispered. But it was gone replaced with rage. His chair scraped the floor as he stood. Amberly flinched. But not from fear. Her hand reached out, light as a feather, brushing the back of his.
“Please…” Her voice barely above a whisper. “Not now… just let me have this. My safety. A moment longer.”
“Yes… Her safety now.” The voice excited. “Then we find him, and finish it slow.”
Greycen stayed for her. But his desire was the warden.
Closing Note
Next release: Chapter 21
Monday at 9:00 AM.
Thank you for reading.
