The Hope of Vitality, page 3
Rupert’s tone became icy. “Your predecessor told us he had been given responsibility for keeping us safe and in good health,” he snarled. “If the princess is crippled or worse because of your neglect, you’d better kill me! Because if you don’t, when I eventually meet your master I’ll make sure he fully understands your attitude toward your responsibilities.” He fixed the leader with a furious glare. “And if you do kill me, you’d better have a good explanation for killing one hostage and crippling the other.”
Rupert spun on his heel and left without waiting for a response.
No Ahrans appeared, and Rupert spent an anxious night trying to care for Tasha.
Not long after the sun rose, a small group of Ahrans arrived. The leader was among them, and he glowered at them both. Rupert ignored him.
One of the Ahrans approached Tasha. “May I examine your ankle?” he asked calmly in Rogandan.
When she responded with a tight nod, he worked the ankle carefully from side to side. Then he probed it thoroughly. Rupert could see he wasn’t trying to be rough, nevertheless the princess winced with pain as he worked.
The healer finally completed his work. “Your ankle is badly sprained, but not broken,” he told Tasha. “You need to avoid putting weight on it until the swelling goes down.”
The leader spoke sharply to the healer in their own language. The exchange was brief and terse. When it was over, the leader turned to Rupert with a sneer.
“Since you have demonstrated that you cannot take proper care of yourselves, I must treat you like children. My men will be instructed to prevent you from climbing hills or trees. They will also make sure you never go out of your depth into the sea. If you do not comply, your movements will be severely restricted.”
He left without offering them an opportunity to reply, striding swiftly away. His guards followed close behind him.
“How did you convince them to examine my ankle?” asked Tasha.
Intent on avoiding details, Rupert responded with a noncommittal grunt. He managed to present a calm face, but inwardly he was on edge.
He felt sure he had made an enemy of the leader. And sooner or later the Ahran would find a way to hit back at him.
3
A week after Tasha’s accident, Rupert sat beside her as they prepared their evening meal over a crackling fire.
Tasha aimed a wry smile at him. “The Ahrans seem to have lost interest in us entirely.”
“I’m very happy to be ignored by our enemies,” he said grimly. “Especially since we’re essentially helpless.”
She tossed the hair from her face. A couple of stray locks remained, and he had to restrain himself from reaching out tenderly and tucking them behind her ear. The impulse was a welcome distraction from the simmering anger that constantly threatened to overwhelm him of late.
“I don’t really mind being ignored,” she continued. “It is an adjustment though. When I became a princess I was instantly surrounded by fuss. It was so irritating! I used to long to be free of it. Now that the fuss has gone, it feels strange.”
Rupert grunted. Having been surrounded by fuss from the moment of his birth, he understood perfectly.
“I’m happy to do routine tasks though,” she said with a smile.
He shrugged. “It isn’t as if we have anything more meaningful to do.”
She ignored his bleak mood. “I’ve never needed to cook for myself before. Some of our early attempts were forgettable, but I think we’re becoming quite good at it.” A dimpled smile lit up her face as she sniffed the food before them.
He fixed his full attention on her, gazing at her in frank admiration. “I don’t know how you do it, Tasha. Cheerfulness seems to bubble out of you.” He shook his head. “I’m struggling to find anything positive to focus on. I don’t think I could do this without you.”
Once Tasha had fully recovered from her injury, the two of them resumed their daily walks. Although they were no longer able to scan the horizon from the highest point on the island, they were otherwise still permitted to wander freely. They soon established a routine that incorporated at least one extensive walk around the island each day.
The benefit to Rupert went beyond exercise. He discovered he needed a change of scenery to help lift the grim mood that typically settled on him when he woke each morning. He hadn’t been accustomed to thinking of himself as moody, at least not in the years that followed the dark period of Lord Eisgold’s betrayal. The captivity, especially under Dessue’s replacement, had changed that along with so much else besides.
* * *
Rupert and Tasha set off on their daily walk with two guards trailing them as always. To all appearances the guards followed without enthusiasm.
The small party took a route that led them past a pool fed by a reliable spring. The crystal clear water of the pool had called out to them from the moment they first discovered it. On that initial occasion, finding that their guards had no objection, they had jumped in and enjoyed a brief swim. The water was bracingly cold at first, but they soon adjusted. A swim became an important part of their routine whenever the weather permitted it.
Shallow at the edges, in its deepest section the water reached to Tasha’s chin. The pool was wide enough to allow plenty of room to swim or splash about as their fancy took them.
Having arrived at the pool on their latest walk, Rupert stood beside it mustering the courage to brave the cold and plunge into the water. Stepping up behind him, Tasha pushed him squarely in the back, pitching him bodily into the water. He emerged shivering, a howl of protest on his lips. Tasha looked on unrepentantly, giggling with glee.
Slapping the surface of the pond with the palm of his hand, Rupert directed a stream of water at Tasha. His aim was perfect, and she squealed as cold liquid doused her. Taking advantage of her distraction, he surged from the pool and dragged her in. Both of them were now completely soaked, and after a brief wrestle they fell apart, laughing helplessly.
Dripping from head to toe, Rupert stood in the pool with hands on his hips, shaking his head in mock outrage at Tasha’s surprise attack.
At the same time, he couldn’t help but be grateful to her. Once more her buoyancy and cheerfulness had lifted his mood, granting him a moment’s respite from the harsh realities of their situation. How could he have endured these weeks without her?
“While I’m here, I might as well take the opportunity to bathe,” Tasha said in Rogandan, glancing pointedly at the guards as she said it.
The guards had been ignoring them, apparently finding their behavior foolish and beneath their attention. Now they shrugged and turned away, retracing their steps back through the trees.
The guards had previously respected Tasha’s need for privacy when she bathed, and that occasion proved to be no exception. Rupert was grateful for their consideration, much as it surprised him.
Curiously, while the guards accommodated the princess’s need for privacy, they still showed concern for her safety. The first time she had set out for the pool to bathe, the guards made no move to follow her. They had, however, insisted that Rupert accompany her. When he refused, they had made it clear they were not offering him a choice.
The situation raised challenges of its own for Rupert. Tasha was a beautiful young woman he cared deeply about, and it wasn’t easy to remain detached as she undressed to wash herself and her clothing. He kept his back to her and tried to fix his mind on other things.
When she finished, he took his turn to bathe. She had always shown him the same courtesy, and without any apparent struggle. If he was honest, he found the discrepancy unsettling.
Pushing such thoughts from his mind, he focused on washing himself.
A deep sigh of contentment from Tasha interrupted his thoughts.
“I needed that!” she said. “In the palace there was always someone to prepare my bath and whisk away my dirty clothes. I took it far too much for granted! Now that it’s gone, I can’t pretend I don’t miss it. I’m not myself in filthy clothes. Cleaning them properly is impossible here, but some attempt is better than nothing. And I can’t tell you how good it is just to rinse my hair—I try to pretend it’s been properly washed. Now I feel ready to face the world again.”
He chuckled. “I’m ready to face the world too,” he told her.
Stepping from the pool he made his way to her side. Seeing her smiling up at him, he reached for her hand. She placed it in his without hesitation.
He glanced around. “This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I set out to court you.”
“Our island exile hasn’t exactly been romantic,” she acknowledged. “But we’re in an impossible situation. Thank you for helping me through it.”
He returned a wan smile. “You’ve helped me much more than I’ve ever helped you. I couldn’t have survived without your cheerfulness.”
They stood in silence for a time, staring off into the distance.
“What are we going to do, Rupert?” she eventually asked.
He shook his head grimly. “I don’t know. But as soon as an opportunity comes I’m going to seize it, however slim the chances.”
Rupert paused to stretch his back, wincing at the protest from muscles he hadn’t known he possessed. A steady breeze nagged at the untidy locks draped across his brow, and he wiped irritably at the sweat that dripped incessantly down his face.
A group of Ahran guards lounged idly no more than a stone’s throw or two away, watching the captives with bored expressions. Rupert aimed an angry glance in their direction.
“Ignore them, Rupe,” urged Tasha quietly. “They’re not worth it.”
For her sake he wiped the scowl from his face, shifting his attention to their shelter. Before bending to the task once more, he briefly glanced up at the sky. If he knew anything about cloud formations, wild weather would be upon them before long. They needed to work faster if they had any hope of completing the repairs to Tasha’s shelter by nightfall. Perhaps sensing his unease, his companion quickly resumed her own labors.
From the moment their captors had ceased helping with practical tasks, the Rogandan princess had insisted on working alongside him whenever they needed to exert themselves. She asserted that she had become physically stronger as a result and more capable than ever before, and it was undeniably true. But the calluses on her hands confronted him with a persistent reminder of the disrespect shown her by their enemies.
To be fair, their small huts had been erected by the Ahrans. But that felt like an age ago. As time passed, more and more dwellings had been damaged by storms. The worst storm so far had descended on them the previous day, and by morning few buildings remained habitable. The guards quickly repaired their own huts, but they made it clear they had no intention of working on the huts of their captives.
Thankfully Rupert’s hut had remained largely unscathed. The same could not be said for Tasha’s dwelling. Perhaps her structure had been unlucky; perhaps less care had gone into its construction. Either way, they were left with no choice but to attempt a repair job themselves.
When Rupert asked for tools, the guards handed them over willingly enough. Their only requirement had been that the tools must be returned before nightfall.
He had the impression the guards didn’t believe them capable of making effective use of the implements. They weren’t far from the mark—with or without tools the task was almost beyond them. Rupert and Tasha had watched their huts being built, but neither of them had any personal experience of building, and they found repair work much more challenging than they had anticipated. Nevertheless, they persevered with dogged determination.
Rupert perspired profusely as he worked. He had long since stripped off his shirt in an attempt to cool off, although it made little difference. There was a time when he would have felt embarrassed to be so exposed before Tasha, but the trappings of refined society had rapidly been peeled away in the weeks of isolation. The changed reality demanded a different set of practical priorities.
“What if we don’t finish in time?” Tasha asked, a trace of anxiety in her tone.
“Then you can have my hut,” he replied evenly.
“But what will you do?” she asked.
“I’ll sleep in the open.”
She shook her head. “That won’t work. If there’s no other option we’ll share a hut. We can find a way to make it work.”
“I’m not going to even consider the possibility of failure,” he said grimly.
Glancing once more at the sky, he bent his back and began again with renewed energy.
* * *
The storm had passed. Tasha’s hut had taken a battering, but their makeshift repairs had done the job, and it had survived intact. With the sun shining once more, Rupert and Tasha took the opportunity to bathe at the pool. They welcomed the chance to forget about buildings and manual labor, and especially to leave behind their guards.
After visiting the pool they returned to the beach and gazed out to sea. Open ocean stretched off into the distance, not even the tiniest speck of land intruding upon the blue expanse. The emptiness only served to emphasize their isolation.
Then a ship sailed slowly into view around the island, anchoring off the beach. A boat was lowered into the water, and sailors rowed it toward the beach.
Were their guards being relieved again? It was an uncomfortable thought after what happened last time.
The Ahran leader met the new arrivals and conferred with them for many minutes. Then a group of guards headed purposefully toward the huts.
“What are they going to do?” asked Tasha uneasily.
Rupert stood up resolutely. “I have no idea. But I intend to find out.”
Even before they reached the Ahrans it became clear that they were demolishing Tasha’s hut.
Hurrying to the site, Rupert confronted them indignantly. “What is the meaning of this? We worked ourselves to the bone repairing that!”
An unfamiliar guard stepped in front of him. “Two huts are unnecessary,” he growled, speaking in Rogandan. “One is more than sufficient for you both.”
“Surely you’re not suggesting we move in together!” Rupert retorted, shaking with anger.
Tasha placed a hand on his arm, but he refused to be placated. “This is unacceptable!” he shouted.
The new guard glowered at him. “You think yourself so high and mighty,” he sneered. Switching effortlessly to Arvenian, he taunted, “Where is your kingdom now, pitiful little monarch? You deserve no more honor than a flea!”
A cold fury rose up in Rupert. The guard didn’t wait for him to do something foolish. A fist smashed into his gut, causing him to double over in pain. A heavy blow to the head sent him crashing to the ground. The guard began kicking him viciously, and he curled into a ball, trying to protect his head with his arms.
The last thing he remembered before losing consciousness was an enraged Tasha leaping at the guard, screaming at the top of her lungs.
* * *
Rupert groaned. His head throbbed unmercifully, and waves of pain flooded his body.
When he opened his eyes, Tasha’s face swam into view. Her look of concern was marred by an angry welt over one eye.
“What did they do to you?” he managed weakly.
“Not much. That brute of a guard slapped me hard enough, but I wasn’t badly injured.” She snorted. “He went away with some injuries of his own. He pretended not to feel it, but those scratches won’t heal for a while.” Her lip curled in grim satisfaction.
A damp cloth appeared in her hand, and she dabbed gently at his forehead. It stung, and he winced involuntarily.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He waved aside her apology, closing his eyes again in an attempt to settle himself.
“Where are we?”
“In your hut,” she told him.
Speaking was difficult. He closed his eyes to rest some more.
After a while he rallied enough to ask, “Why?” His head was too fuzzy for him to better express his confusion about the new dramatic downturn in their circumstances.
“I’ve been asking myself the same question,” she said with a sigh. “The new guards apparently came with new orders. We’ll find out before long what that means in practice. I suspect we’ll end up with a lot less freedom. The guard who beat you speaks Arvenian, too, so we won’t be able to talk so freely anymore.”
Everything had changed so abruptly. Their previous situation seemed almost pleasant by comparison.
His mind was spinning. “They destroyed your hut,” he managed.
Tasha didn’t respond immediately.
“Perhaps they’re trying to force us together,” she finally offered.
“I don’t understand,” he said with a frown, wincing when it set his head throbbing even more.
“We’ll need to share a hut from now on.”
He stared up into her face, uncomprehending.
She shrugged. “I don’t know anything for certain, Rupe. I can’t pretend to understand them.”
Still unable to think straight, he waited patiently for her to say more.
After a pause she asked him, “Have you ever wondered about their behavior when I bathe?”
“They stay away,” he replied, remembering not to frown again. “That’s worth something.” They were doing it out of respect for her privacy. Weren’t they?
“They insist that you accompany me,” she said. “Why?”
It seemed obvious. Even though they’d been ordered not to interfere with her, it made no sense to let her wander the island alone. “They wanted me to keep you safe. Why else?”
She went silent again.
He worked hard at marshaling his thoughts. “Are you suggesting the guards wanted us to sleep together?”
She gazed down at him. “Why else did they leave us alone at the pool?”
