The Strength to Endure by W.J. May

Author:W.J. May
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dark Shadow Publishing
Published: 2021-07-31T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

The storm was over, but the damage remained.

Matched against an opponent neither could fight, the two sides—the soldiers and the captives—slipped away in defeat. With that violent slice of water still coursing between them, and with so many casualties on both sides, there was little other choice but to regroup.

They returned to the valley. We headed in silence up the mountain.

Jane was perched on the edge of the bluff by the time we finally made it back to camp; I hadn’t imagined seeing her standing there in the storm. I flashed a weak smile as we shuffled past, half-imagining that I had, but it was easy to see she hadn’t been idle in our absence.

Never one to partake in the logistics, the strange girl had made an uncharacteristic effort to prepare things by the time we got back. Two fires were roaring—an unlikely occurrence, given the constant drizzle of rain—and several buckets of water had already been collected and boiled.

I stared curiously, wondering why she’d felt the need. Then my eyes flickered to the newly freed prisoners and the obvious truth came to me.

We’re not going anywhere. We’re not in good shape.

I stood on the bluff with Will, watching as one by one the people who’d managed the climb dropped to the ground alongside the fires—making half-hearted attempts to warm themselves, to assess their injuries, and to avoid thinking about those friends who had fallen behind.

One of the men from Bunkhill took a single glance around, then set up a little station for himself beside the boiling water—gathering what supplies he could and waving people forward.

“He used to be a medic,” Will murmured, staring at the painful procession. “Remy told me they used to bring him the people who’d fallen in the mines...”

Perhaps there was more to the story, but the moment he’d said the name both of us turned at the same time—watching as our gentle friend climbed slowly over the edge of the bluff.

It had taken some time for him to climb back up the mountain, drifting along the back of the group and keeping to himself. Truth be told, it had taken some time for him to leave the water.

The instant Margarette vanished beneath the waves, it was as though his feet had frozen to the ground. It didn’t matter that soldiers had gone after the countess. It didn’t matter that he was still within easy reach of their arrows, staring in horror at the exact spot she’d disappeared.

It wasn’t until Will doubled back and grabbed him, literally dragging him up the slope, that he snapped back to the present, yanking himself free and continuing on by himself.

We hadn’t known what to say to him then. We didn’t know what to say now.

“Give him some time,” I murmured, taking Will’s sleeve when he tried to follow. “You would want some time...if it was you.”

To be honest, I didn’t think that was true.

Will hadn’t thought twice before locking Lady Rosalynd inside the burning chapel. The woman had been a torment and nothing else.

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