Daughters Of The Storm (31 page)

Ash's kindness galvanised her more than Bluebell's overbearing bossiness ever could. She rose and pinned on her dress, pulled on her shoes. Bluebell paced the whole time, clearly anxious to get away. She took Ash's premonitions very seriously, even when they were as inarticulate as this one. Rose wondered if it wasn't the dark wood and empty isolation of the village that had made Ash uncomfortable. They were beyond the border of civilisation here. For Rose, the idea of being away from everything was not an uncomfortable one. Away from everything meant away from obligation and damning eyes and promises made in public.

The dogs met them gratefully at the stable, tails thumping, and soon they were saddled and on their way. Bluebell was in a foul mood, shouting at the dogs and scowling. Rose ignored it, but when they had been riding about ten minutes and Sceotley was a dark shape on the hill behind them, Ash ventured to draw Bluebell into conversation.

‘Is everything all right, Bluebell?' she ventured.

‘I'm fine,' she replied shortly.

‘Did you have any sleep last night?'

‘What does it matter?' Bluebell snapped. ‘Let's get on.'

Rose clenched her teeth. Enough of Bluebell's foul humour, especially as Ash had done nothing to deserve it. ‘Leave her be, Bluebell.'

‘All is well, Rose,' Ash said. ‘She hasn't slept. She stayed awake to protect us.'

‘All is not well. She isn't the only one who has a reason to be unhappy. Why should we indulge her? She doesn't indulge us.'

‘You mean I've never indulged
you
?' Bluebell said, pulling Isern up hard and turning on her. ‘And why should I? You were given one thing to do to earn your place in this family. One thing: marry the king of Netelchester and be faithful to him. And you couldn't even do that. You barely made it through a year before you were riding your nephew.'

‘He's not my nephew.'

‘Please don't fight,' Ash said. ‘You're both tired, you both have a lot on your minds. Please don't fight. This will get us nowhere.'

‘Leave out of it, Ash,' Rose said, firmly. ‘Bluebell and I need to speak of this directly.'

‘I've already spoken to you directly. Many times,' Bluebell said with a scowl. ‘Heath is Rowan's father, and for that he may live and be of use to us. But one more half-breed bastard will be too many for me, and certainly too many for Wengest.'

‘You speak as though all that matters is the business of kings.'

‘It is all that matters. What am I to say to you, Rose? That you have my blessing to make decisions from between your legs? Where does that leave the rest of us in Ælmesse? In the other territories that rely on us? Am I to say to the people on the borders of Bradsey: “Oh, I'm sorry that you are being slaughtered by raiders, but my sister was in need of a good fucking”?'

The temperature of Rose's blood surged and she could no longer stand to be there. Bluebell had reduced something so
beautiful to something so coarse. She had sent her daughter away with strangers. And her heart was as cold and hard as steel. Rose kicked her horse and galloped off, down towards the woods. Away, for fear that if she stayed her heart would explode with hot fury.

‘Wait, Rose!' Ash shouted, a thrill of desperation in her voice, though Rose didn't know why. It wasn't the first time she and Bluebell had argued and it would hardly be the last.

Then she saw the heavy, overhanging branch of a chestnut tree barring the road. She yanked the reins. A hard, black pain shuddered across her forehead. The sun blinked out.

She was awake, but not awake. Consciousness was not lost, but shredded into incoherent pieces. She seemed to see herself from far away, Bluebell lifting her limp form onto Isern's back. Then a long stretch of ringing darkness. Ash's hands, close and smelling of leather from reins. Voices. Shouting. Bluebell shouting, ordering people around. Rose felt the beat of her heart as a deep ache in her head. The darkness flickered on and off. A pungent smell, choking her. She fought against it, then Ash said, ‘Sleep now. We are here with you.'

Then a long silence in the hum of life.

Rose's eyes flickered open. Long shadows and a chill in the air told her it was late in the afternoon. She was somewhere soft, her head throbbed. She took a moment to remember what happened.

Then Ash leaned into view. ‘You're awake.'

‘Where are we?'

‘Back in Sceotley.'

‘Where's Bluebell?'

‘I'm here.' A voice from the shadows in the corner of the room. Rose sat up to look around, but her neck and shoulders screamed with pain.

‘Stay down,' Ash said. ‘You hit your head and then you had a bad fall. You need to rest.'

Rose did as she was told, reaching for her forehead where the branch had struck her. It was bandaged. ‘Have I been unconscious all this time?'

‘I gave you something to make you sleep. I had to stitch your wound.' Ash pointed to her own forehead. ‘It was bleeding badly.'

Bluebell came into view. ‘When can she ride again?'

Ash turned to her. ‘Give her a day or two. She's bruised badly.'

‘This place ...'

‘I know.'

Rose reached for Bluebell's hand. Her sister looked grey with tiredness and concern. ‘I'm so sorry.'

Bluebell shrugged. She squeezed Rose's hand, then released it. A quick knock at the door made her head jerk up. Her sword was drawn in a second.

Ash put out a hand. ‘I'll open it. Stay out of sight.'

‘They've already seen me.'

‘Please, Bluebell.'

Bluebell shrank back into the shadows. Ash opened the door. It was the alehouse husband.

‘Good evening,' Ash said.

‘How long are you staying?'

‘It will depend very much on my sister's recovery.'

He peered into the room, his eyes lighting on Bluebell.

‘Why do you ask?' Ash said.

‘I have a lot of travellers come through here,' he said gruffly. ‘I might need the room.'

‘I'll try to get better quickly,' Rose joked weakly.

Once again his eyes went to Bluebell. ‘Would you like some food sent up?'

‘Thank you, but we will keep to ourselves,' Ash said.

He nodded, then backed out. Ash closed the door after him. ‘He knows who you are, Bluebell.'

‘Good. Then he might have the sense to be afraid.' Bluebell moved the chest back in front of the door. ‘Well, Ash, you still have your bad feeling?'

‘I do,' Ash said in a soft voice.

Rose felt such a fool. If she hadn't stormed off like a child, she and her sisters would be far away, perhaps in another, safer village, or perhaps preparing to sleep under the stars. But she had lost her temper the way Rowan did — hot and violent. Thoughts of Rowan made her ache. Where was she now? Was she safe? A fall like the one Rose had would kill a child. Rose began to cry.

‘Hush,' Ash said, grasping her hands. ‘All will be well. The best thing you can do now is rest so we can leave tomorrow.'

‘But if you're not up to it, we can wait another day,' Bluebell said, sitting on the chest with her knees folded up under her chin.

Rose knew what an effort it must have taken Bluebell to appear calm as she said those words. Bluebell was in a hurry — to get out of Sceotley, to save Father's life. Rose's stomach clutched with guilt. She spent too much time in her own head, consumed with her own feelings. She blamed her heart: surely it experienced love and fear and desire and guilt more steeply than anyone else's heart. That could be the only explanation for her selfishness.

She turned on her side — gingerly, trying to find a spot that wasn't bruised — and promised herself that, no matter how she felt, she would ride tomorrow. She had already caused her sisters too much trouble.

A rush of cold water in Ash's veins made her startle awake.

She sat up, heart thudding, and looked around the room. Rose, asleep next to her, face soft, lips slightly parted. Bluebell, curled on her side on the floor in front of the door. As she tried to focus on Bluebell, a scream behind her eyes began to vibrate through her skull.

Something very bad was coming. Coming for Bluebell.

‘Up!' she cried, leaping out of bed. ‘We need to go now.'

Bluebell was on her feet in a second, not a trace of sleepiness or confusion in her expression. ‘What's coming, Ash?'

‘I don't know, I don't know. But it's coming for you,' Ash said. She leaned over Rose, who was struggling to wake up. The tonic Ash had given her the day before had made her brain sluggish. She was blue with bruises from shoulders to hips and Ash knew it was going to be painful for her to move. ‘Rosie, I'm sorry. But we have to go. Right now.'

Rose lifted her head and palmed her eyes. ‘Yes, yes,' she managed. ‘Help me with my cloak.'

Bluebell had cracked open the door and was peering out. ‘How far away, Ash?'

Ash shook her head, stomach clenching with frustration. ‘I don't know.'

Bluebell hoisted her pack to her shoulder. ‘Can you walk, Rose?'

Rose was on her feet, leaning heavily on Ash. ‘Yes,' she said, though Ash could tell she was lying.

Then they were outside in the cool, early morning air. Dawn-gold sunlight lay on low mist down the valley and across the river. The stable door was closed and bolted. Bluebell's dogs barked madly inside.

‘Where's the stable hand?' Rose said, alarmed.

Bluebell gave Ash a grim look, her mouth a hard line. ‘They've locked our dogs and horses in. We are to be served to these enemies on a plate.'

‘Do you want me to try to pick the lock?'

‘There's no time. Leave it,' Bluebell said. ‘We run. We can come back for the horses and dogs later. And the revenge.' She put her hand out for Rose, who winced as Bluebell tugged her forwards. They began to run down the hill and out the front gate of the town.

Ash saw them a heartbeat before Bluebell did.

‘Raiders!' Bluebell shouted, skidding to a halt. Four of them on the road, clearly heading straight towards Sceotley. She turned and ushered her sisters ahead of her — poor stumbling Rose, and Ash — with her heart thumping. They skidded off the main road and onto a worn track through grass, then dangerously vertical down a grassy slope. Rose cried out in pain and Bluebell stopped and turned.

Ash stopped too. ‘Bluebell?' Her sister's long fair hair was lifted by the wind. The raiders were a hundred yards away, just beyond the dirty white ruins of an ancient building.

Bluebell waved to them with both arms, and shouted, ‘
Sansorthinn
!'

‘What did you say to them?' Ash asked.

‘I called them cocksuckers in their own language.' Bluebell smiled grimly. ‘Go. Take Rose.'

‘What? Where?'

‘They'll kill you both. Hide in the woods and if I don't come for you, head back towards Ælmesse. I'll draw them away from you. Here.' She pushed Rose into Ash's arms and then, before Ash could say another word, she was off, heading down towards the grassy banks of the river.