Chapter 55
Bastian narrowed his eyes as he looked down at his sleeve. Opening the sliced fabric he saw a sliver of red blood.
He'd been cut? How?
Muttering to himself at her crazy riding and waking him rudely he inspected his wound further.
Hissing in pain and grinding his teeth he could find no foreign object in his body.
"My Sovereign?" He heard a voice ask. Turning he saw it was the maid, in her hands were eggs and a dead animal.
"My Sovereign, are you hurt?" She asked as she rested the food down.
He squinted his eyes at her, "And why would you care?"
She seemed alarmed by his question and her brown eyes widened, "Because… you are might be injured, my Sovereign and… I am a maid."
He didn't reply and simply looked at the horses.
He heard the maid striking a rock to start a fire and soon he could hear the distinct crackling sound and smell of eggs being cooked.
He began to tap his foot absentmindedly as he listened to the sounds.
He hissed in pain when he felt something cold touch his cut. Looking down he saw the maid with a damp cloth in her hands, dabbing at his wound.
"What are you doing?" He asked dumbfounded.
"Cleaning your wound, my Sovereign, It's quite deep." She answered as she dabbed at it once again. He exhaled through gritted teeth.
"Why?"
Her eyes met his for a brief second then flitted back down to his injury, "As I said before, my Sovereign. You are the Sovereign and you need help."
She carefully cleaned the cut.
"Why didn't she? I'm her Sovereign and she saw that I need- that my shirt was cut. Why didn't she do this? She's the same to me as you are." He said in all seriousness.
Brigitte hid a smile at the naivety he exuded at that moment.
"Because she was upset that you wouldn't let her help you, my Sovereign. And… with all do respect, my Sovereign, but… I am not the same to you as she is." She said hastily as she moved to walk away from there.
He grabbed her arm, "What do you mean?" He asked, his brown eyes watching her inquisitively.
Brigitte swallowed and blinked at his question and startled by his grip on her arm, "She… she is your Queen. Your wife. She feels differently about you than I do." She said simply, then with a slight blush she hurried away from there to finish cooking their meal.
His shoulders sagged, 'Right. She's my wife.' The truth soured his thoughts.
When the meal had finished cooking all three sat around the fire, eating quietly.
Bastian stared at the mud and grass covered ground, pondering what had happened that morning.
"How did you know?" He asked the flower again.
Her grey eyes darted to him then to the jungle. She licked her delicate lips then glanced at him once more, "I had thought I heard something and decided that it was time to leave." Her eyes looked at the maid, "I'm sorry for waking you."
Bastian shifted uncomfortably in his place, she apologized to a servant but not to him.
~~~~~~~~~~
Two days later they arrived at the bridge spanning across the river that barred them from the capital.
Hydrangea was hunched low on Helle as the trio peered through the trees to look at the busy route. Carts were passing with loads of things to trade, or things they've traded for. Every single person stopped at the front to pay the toll to a group of soldiers.
The air smelled heavily of sweat, horses, and strange perfumes and scents. Turning her eyes she raised them to the sky. It was dimming, dusk would soon set in. The Sovereign said that the guards would most likely be getting tired and lazy. All of this was resting on his word.
Her hands clenched the reins tightly.
"Everyone remember the plan?" She asked and looked back to see the others nod.
Bastian could see the fear in her eyes. There was no reason for it; his plan would work perfectly.
They climbed off of their horses and hauling the packs on their shoulders both women held the horses while they waited for their opening.
"Here." Hydrangea said as she handed him a pack.
"What?" He asked looking at the pack confused.
She scraped her bottom lip with her teeth, "Carry it."
"Why?"
Inhaling she attempted to stay calm, "Because you are stronger than both of us and you have to carry your weight." She said through gritted teeth. She didn't like verbally admitting that he was good at something.
He rolled his eyes and scoffed as if this was news to him.
Harshly, he took the pack from her hands.
Their focus returned to the ever-moving lane.
A few moments later their opportunity came around the corner.
A man who appeared to have been drinking drove by them, hitched to the front of his cart were two mules.
"Let's go." Bastian said and they walked slowly and carefully trying to appear unassuming.
They waited until the cart was stopped then walked to the back of it and tied both horses to it.
The cart began moving and the horses were pulled along.
Bastian smiled proudly at his plan actually working.
"Come on." One of the woman whispered hurriedly next to him, most likely the flower.
They crouched low to the ground as they made their way across the road and under the bridge.
"And just how are we supposed to cross this?" The flower asked, her voice carrying over the noise of the rushing river.
His eyes moved up to the wooden beams spanning underneath the stone bridge. Pointing a finger up a wicked smile grew on his lips.
"We climb."