Return to Caer Lon by Claude Dancourt

Author:Claude Dancourt [Dancourt, Claude]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-06-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

The wheel rolled over a pothole and his head hit the wagon’s rim. Derek groaned, brawling to straighten up, still groggy with sleep. Sacha turned to him, and her smile sent warmth down his chest to curl in the pit of his stomach. Vaguely disquieted by the sudden urge to pull her close for a snugger nap, Derek yawned, hiding behind his hand. He tried to chase away the last bribes of daze to no avail. Her smile swayed back to their guide, her eyes abandoning him. He realized the cart was stopped.

“Thank you for the ride, Master Baul.”

Derek reached for the purse at his belt, only to be stopped by Sacha's arm stretched over her seat. His hand fell back on his lap, useless. The farmer nodded, “It was nice having company for once; my house is about two miles down the road, in case you want to stop for the night after your sightseeing.”

“We will remember that. Thanks again.”

Derek was glad she took the initiative. He yawned again, numbed and confused by his lack of energy. He never had trouble waking up. He always snapped out of slumber sound and keen. Sebastian compared him to a catapult’s spring while Elwyn complained about it every occasion he got. At the moment, he had no energy whatsoever and his head pounded disagreeably.

The young prince noticed the peasant was looking at him expectantly and finally jumped down the platform, hauling their belongings behind him. His legs protested in the impact, joints hard and hurting.

Sacha moved to help him recovering his balance. Derek shrugged, “I’m fine.”

Her jaw dropped for a second before she pursed her lips, something undefined flashing in her sea-coloured eyes. Derek regretted his rebuff. All his body was stiff and sore, as if he had spent days in bed harbouring a strong fever.

“I’m good, Sacha, just…”

His voice bent into an apology and he shut up. What would he apologize for? Maybe he had a fever.

Reins snapped too close, making his heart jump up to his throat. The cart slowly set into motion. The high-pitched shriek howled through his brain. Derek shut his eyes tight one second, fighting the feeling of being right below a bronze bell in full swing. When the ring dimmed, he secured the bag on his shoulder to mask his shaking.

“Derek…”

Her call had him tumbled. It enveloped him like a second cloak, drawing him back to her. A headache drummed madly on his temples. He wanted to rest his forehead on something smooth and welcoming, so the pressure building inside his skull would ease. Something soft and fragrant, like her shoulder...

“The path is this way, we…”

“Derek, there is no path.”

She spoke so softly he wondered if he had dreamt her nonsense.

“Of course, there’s one! Look!”

It was right under their feet, a small trail going straight into that breach in the curtain of trees, toward the rocky hill behind. Sure, it wasn’t a Roman-paved road, but it…

Her stare shifted from pale jade to deep emerald, the light in them flirting with all the green shades in between.

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