Nyssa went to the river and removed most of the plates, her gloves, boots. The rest she wore and walked directly into the water and waded to her hips. Her eyes focused on the swirling, swift-moving water around her. The sun glinted on the surface; the bottom was multi-coloured rocks and seemed to sparkle underneath. She stood in the cold water for long enough so that her body was numb. Not even caring if her head stayed above the surface, she sank to her knees and the water lapped at her chin. She was so tired. She closed her eyes and felt herself sway in the current, but the water felt better. The movement on her skin was smooth. She raised one hand and looked at it. Dark reddish stains under her nails, the skin stained a light red. She rubbed her hands together. The other one looked the same and it improved some but not completely.
Nyssa pulled the tie from her hair and pulled out the braid to let it fall loose over her shoulders and face. She held her breath and ducked completely under. The disappearing noise was the most blissful thing; it was quiet and felt like being wrapped in an embrace. She wondered if this is what it felt like to die. She hoped that was what Kila had felt at the end: stillness.
When her lungs began to burn, she resurfaced but stood up and flipped her hair to fly over and behind, away from her face, causing a huge commotion in the centre of the otherwise gently gurgling water. Nyssa filled her lungs several times with clean, large breaths. Her eyes seemed refreshed and she didn’t smell the tang of blood as much anymore. She looked down and saw her black clothes were running with it. Red was leeching into the brook from her body. At first, it was interesting, but gradually, she remembered whose blood it was. Nyssa tore the shirt from her back and threw it to the shore. It slapped loudly on the rocks. Nyssa only then noticed the small face peeking above dirty and bony knees, just behind a tree on the bank. They stared at each other for a long minute.
The child moved her bum a few feet closer. Then a few feet more. And a few feet more until she could pull Nyssa’s shirt the rest of the way out of the water. Nyssa watched in complete silence as the girl stood but bent to put her own feet in the water, lean against a rock and start scrubbing the shirt against the surface.
Nyssa got up, careful to try not to startle the child. The water shed from her skin and the sun warmed her again. She pulled her hair back and tied it loosely. She smoothed her face and slowly walked out of the water toward the girl, but when she approached, the child panicked.
“Please let me finish the laundry, Princess Nyssa. I know how!” she cried, one hand held out to stop her. Nyssa froze. The girl could not have been more than ten.
“If you’d like,” she replied warmly. The girl was shaking, but she went back to it with a panicked fervour. Nyssa was uncomfortable.
“What is your name, sweetheart?” she asked her. The girl looked up at her, worry in her eyes. “Well, you know mine. Do you think I should know yours?”
The girl looked less certain and looked down at her work. “Sasha,” she replied and said nothing else.
Nyssa started to shore again and this time made it all the way. She turned and sat down not too close to Sasha but close enough and leaned back to warm herself in the sun.
“What are you wearing on your chest?” Sasha asked her. Nyssa looked down and figured she meant her wraps. She pointed to them.
“Just a binding to keep them from getting in the way,” she said and smiled at her. Sasha looked amazed.
“What do the women in your family wear?” she asked her politely.
“Bodice,” Sasha said, shrugging. “It has laces up the front. Sometimes if they’re big enough, you can make them with baskets.”
Nyssa tried to envision what she was describing and couldn’t help but smile. She knew most women wore the short bodice, a laced-up sort of stay, but that was shorter, extending only to the bottom of the rib cage. Nyssa had worn one a few times when she needed to wear a gown, but since her puberty had taken place, like all at the academy, she’d adapted the practical form used by all female soldiers of binding her breasts in a cotton or leather strip to keep them from interfering with her movements. Nyssa was endowed enough that this never hid the fact she was a grown woman, but they did feel restrictive sometimes.
“I don’t wear gowns very often,” she said to Sasha. The girl shrugged and her head bobbed that she understood.
Nyssa sat with her in silence for a while. The girl continued scrubbing the shirt, slapping it on the rocks, twisting the material in her hands. She noticed it no longer ran with blood. When she was satisfied, Sasha turned to find a suitable branch and spread it wide over top. When she was done, she turned back to Nyssa, moving closer, but not too close, sitting on her bum, skinny arms wrapped around her knees again to watch her.
“Thank you for helping me with my shirt, Sasha,” she said gently.
“I will do your trousers, too, if you want.” Nyssa smiled but shook her head.
“It’s OK,” she assured her. Nyssa didn’t want to shoo the girl away, but she was starting to lose her grip on the fatigue. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes to feel the sun on her face.
“Will you protect us, Princess Nyssa?” Sasha asked her and Nyssa lifted her head back up to look at her.
“I will, Sasha,” she said firmly. The girl nodded and ducked her face back behind her knees. Nyssa smiled reassuringly and put her head back. She fell asleep on the rocks.
---
Jara watched until Nyssa fell asleep. The little girl she’d been talking to didn’t move to leave, even after Nyssa’s head gently slid to the side in her slumber. Instead, the girl moved a bit closer and settled herself to staying put, it looked to him.
He’d followed her to the river discreetly because he could see she was a bit in shock and too tired to deal with him. He’d stayed back and watched her transformation in the water. He’d felt better when she’d emerged from being under, throwing her hair over, her back arched beautifully against the sun, water sparkling when it sprayed in every direction. She’d stood up then and her face was once again clear. Jara had lost himself for a brief second, seeing his lover and friend in that one moment, but he’d snapped back and once again saw his princess and his responsibility. Nyssa had become a different woman since arriving at her father’s camp, especially since Brack’s conversation. She was determined, quick and decisive. Following her orders was nearly all he could do to keep up, it seemed, but he needed to be more, better.
He’d watched and heard the conversation with Sasha. He knew she was some relation to Kila from having seen her with the other villagers, especially the two he knew to be Kila’s mother and brother. The girl wanted some connection with the princess, her hero perhaps.
But Jara needed to sleep and he couldn’t do that until Nyssa was secured. He pushed off the tree and moved carefully down to the water’s edge. Sasha jumped up and he saw she’d grabbed one of Nyssa’s daggers. He held up both hands.
“Easy, little one,” he said soothingly, “I am the princess’s guardsman,” he explained. Sasha cocked her head to one side, clearly unsure.
“What is that?” she demanded. Nyssa slept on.
“I am her personal soldier, her protector,” he explained calmly. Sasha narrowed her eyes at him. She adjusted the dagger in her hands.
“Do you fight for her?” she demanded. Jara nodded.
“Certainly,” he agreed. Sasha seemed to relax a little.
“Would you die for her?” she demanded and stabbed the knife forward a bit in her excitement. Jara eyed it, but it was not close enough to be a concern. He stood up straight and nodded to the small girl.
“Always,” he said seriously. Sasha didn’t expect his solemn reply. She dropped the dagger down to her side.
“So you fight together?” she asked him. Jara agreed they did.
“But she is all of ours, the princess. I fight when and how she tells me as she is all of ours, the defender. In turn, I protect her when she cannot do so herself, like now,” he said and pointed to her. Sasha looked back to the sleeping woman. “If you permit me, brave Sasha, I will take her back to her bed now,” he said and waited. Sasha looked back and forth between them, then nodded.
Jara moved and bent to pick Nyssa up. She jerked in surprise but saw his face and immediately settled. He smiled at that. At least, she still saw him as comfort and safe.
“Sasha, would you help me bring the princess’s things?” he called behind him. The small girl nodded enthusiastically and ran around picking up all Nyssa’s belongings. She followed them up the bank and back to Nyssa’s tent.
-----
Nyssa pulled her jerkin over her shoulders, pulling hard on the laces across the front. She’d replace her breastplate on top of it and the tighter she could get the laces, the easier the straps for the plate would be. By the time she’d buckled the armour, she felt rolled like a bedroll. She took a deep breath and wriggled slightly to settle it. Knowing it was as much as she was going to get, she grabbed her gloves and left the tent.
Her original plan to overtake the fishing villages covertly was no longer preferred after the evacuees she’d rescued the night before reported villagers still living there. In addition, intel from the scouting parties indicated some towns had since been occupied by enemy raiders. She now needed the manpower to sweep the threat and also handle the evacuation. They brought extra men and horses that would stay back until called up to move people. If Nyssa was ultimately successful, though, she planned to move as many people as possible by boat before dawn.
Her father hadn’t the choice but to react to her momentum. They’d settled their camp and the infantry was coming to them instead. In the meantime, Nyssa had planned clearing the area of civilians.
The infantry was due to arrive that day or the next. Nyssa felt the pressure, not sure her father would wait if his army was formed behind him ready to go. She’d begged Brack to hold him until she gave him the word, but he made no promises. Her actions had spurred him on and he now was as anxious to move as she was.
Nyssa walked quickly to where Jara was holding Roan and the rest of her first tier of soldiers. She looked around and saw every face that had been with her the previous night. Beyond the ones she recognized were a new group, but they all stood silently for her, awaiting her order. She acknowledged them and took her reins from Jara and bounced up into the saddle. She turned him around to see her whole company: twenty Elite knights, nearly the entire company, plus five mounted soldiers from the regular ranks. Brack stood near the entrance to her father’s tent, but Madras did not come out.
Nyssa led the group to the smaller paths that led down to the water. Scouts during the day had run the paths to check for raiders, but they’d come up with nothing. When they approached the final descent to the seaside village, Nyssa stopped the group and dismounted. She selected the same six and had the rest hold back, ordering them to break into teams of four and six themselves and wait for her signal to follow.
Nyssa moved with her team around the back of the village. She could see the huts were silent, save for one, the biggest, at the bottom of the waterfront. As they moved silently between the buildings, she tried hard to watch the ships tied to the docks closely. Her heart leaped with excitement to see them attached to land and not moored offshore. She smacked Jara in the chest and pointed her chin at them so he could see it too. He did and nodded back at her.
They checked huts and saw no one in the dwellings. This worried her. She pointed to the big building where light and voices could be heard. Nyssa climbed up on the roof and peeked into a hole while Jara watched the door and the other four flattened themselves against the wall to keep a lookout. She saw the villagers then. Two large cages in the corner held about twelve or fifteen men and children. The women were walking through the room holding ale jugs and food platters. She could tell they were villagers because they were filthy, bloody and exhausted. Nyssa’s eyes fell on a young woman heavy with child dragging herself up a row, one hand holding a jug, the other trying to give some support to her swollen belly. Suddenly, a raider slapped her hard on the back and she fell forward, crying out in pain. The man started harassing her, fumbling with her skirts, and the woman started screaming.
Nyssa pulled her twin blades and jumped down from the roof.
“You get the others, all of them. Now!” she ordered and a soldier took off. “The rest of you, there are ten or so, sitting, eating, but they are surrounded by civilians and the rest are in cages in the corners. Try not to set any fires,” she said and was about to charge the door, but Jara grabbed her arm.
“If you want us to save them all, we have to wait for the others,” he said to her. Nyssa heard a young woman scream again above the din. “Nyssa!” he hissed at her and she scowled at him. He pushed her behind him and scrambled up the roof to see what she saw. He came back down a minute later. His face was enraged.
Jara made the sign to the others they were going in.
Five Elite took the room without a sound, moving into the space from the entrance like ants on the wall, then fanning out and running up the aisles, eliminating those they picked out immediately with visible weapons. Seven went down in the first sweep, including the one that had since wrestled and beaten the pregnant woman to the ground and was in the process of molesting her. Jara had come upon them and the man hadn’t even known they were there. He’d come up behind them, kicked the animal over onto his back and clear of the woman, then stabbed his sword down and into his eye socket. Nyssa had run up behind them on her own way to help her and turned just in time to cut down a raider coming up from behind.
They looked at each other and then around the room. At almost the same time, the rest of their company arrived.
“We need men in here to secure it and free the people. Then send more out to secure the rest of the village. When we're good here, we’ll go to the ships,” she said. Jara nodded and eyed the woman whimpering on the floor in the narrow aisle they were standing in but left her to get the others organized.
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Nyssa immediately knelt to the woman. She was shaking and crying, her arms trying to hold her belly.
“It’s finished,” Nyssa said to her. “They’re dead. We’re moving you away from here.” She rubbed her back and tried to help her sit. The girl didn’t seem to want to hear her; she just kept wailing. Nyssa looked up and around the room, focusing on another girl helping an elderly woman who’d fallen in the next aisle.
“Do you know her?” she asked her. The girl looked over at her and shrugged.
“She’s from another village. Carissa, I think her name is,” the girl answered but was distracted by the old woman who seemed to be in a lot of pain.
“Carissa?” Nyssa called to the girl and she looked up at her. “You’re safe now. We’re moving everyone away from here, OK?” The girl calmed her crying for a while, but she was cumbersome and slumped heavily and awkwardly to one side.
“Can I help you?” Nyssa asked, feeling helpless around the girl and especially the belly. She felt agitated for her being in such a horrible situation in her condition. Motherhood was sacred, she thought. She should be resting in safety and surrounded by a doting and loving husband at this stage of her growth, not crumpled on a dirty public ale house floor, bleeding and beaten, scared and alone.
“Is your husband here?” she asked her. The woman shook her head and buried her face in the crook of her elbow. That didn’t sound good.
“Carissa, my name is Nyssa. I’m here with the army to help you get away from here and to someplace safe,” she said to her. “In a bit, we’re going to get ready to move. If you need assistance, please tell me so I can arrange it,” she said. The girl looked at her, her eyes focusing on her, but she simply shook her head.
“I’m OK,” she said and calmed herself down noticeably. Nyssa smiled at her. She looked up and called over one of her soldiers, the woman who’d helped her with Kila.
“Keep an eye on her until we get back,” she said and the soldier nodded. Carissa nodded to her when she touched her shoulder, then let her head fall back against the bench, taking deep breaths.
Nyssa caught up to Jara at the door. “Are we ready?” she asked. He turned at the sound of her voice; his arms were crossed, but he dropped them to pick up his weapons.
“Recon says there are men on the ships, maybe two or three each. Likely the captains and a skeletal crew to guard them.”
She checked the group lined up to go with them. There were the five again. The last was sitting with Carissa. She turned to one who was standing at the door with them.
“We need captains,” she said. “Speak to the villagers. See if anyone has some skill with these,” she said, throwing a thumb over her shoulder. The man nodded and immediately turned back into the room.
“Is the rest of the village secure?” she asked Jara and he affirmed.
“They’re spread out, covering the entrances and the perimeter. We’ll break the silence with a horn blast if we’re discovered,” he said.
Nyssa took her group to the edge of the docks but knew the wood planking would be too loud for their approach. She signalled Jara to take a team through the shallow water and up the rungs on the outside, while she took only two with her, after dumping a portion of their armour.
She watched the ships from the edge of the wharves. A sailor on sentry duty walked the deck slowly once, then disappeared. The same happened on the other side. Because they weren’t synched, it reduced her approach time significantly. She waited and when the second man turned his back, she moved at a crouch, her two teammates close behind her. They reached the boats and ducked low under the railings. The boats were rising and falling in a gentle wave and Nyssa had to concentrate to hear the footsteps over the surf.
She thought she knew where the man was so she held a throwing knife, took a breath and stood up enough to see. Too early, he saw her, but Nyssa didn’t give him the chance. She threw the knife and it landed in his eye. The man stiffened and fell over. Nyssa motioned for her next teammate to move to the other ship and do the same.
She waited a minute and then heard a similar ‘thump’ from the other ship. The knight gave her a thumbs up, so all three stood and flipped themselves over the railing and onto the deck, making almost no sound.
Nyssa ran to the rungs in the middle to look down and see if Jara had made it. They were there, so she motioned them up. When all the group had assembled, Nyssa checked the other ship and saw they too were ready.
“Captain's quarters,” Jara said low and pointed to her and himself and she agreed. He pointed to the others and then down one of the hatches to indicate the other two should secure the rest of the ship. He turned back to her. Not knowing where the captain’s quarters might be, she stepped back so he could lead.
Nyssa watched as Jara held his ear up to the door. He waited a good long while. She waved to get his attention and mouthed the word “sleeping?” when he did look at her. He shrugged. They both stepped back, Jara with his sword, Nyssa with her dagger. She nodded to him while he had his hand on the doorknob.
Slowly, he turned it and let it swing open. The captain seemed to have been prepared for some time. He jumped toward Jara, swinging a vicious blow with a short sword that caught him off guard. Luckily, the doorway was too small to manoeuvre and Jara only had to step back to disengage from the attack. In the new space made between them, Nyssa threw her dagger and it lodged in the man’s chest. He stumbled, dropping his sword and stared at the hilt sticking out of his body. He blinked at them.
“You are the captain of this vessel, I presume?” Nyssa asked conversationally, entering the room now to kick the sword away. Jara filled the doorway behind her, his blade drawn and ready.
The man, still gaping and speechless, nodded and stared at her. Then he fell on his knees and collapsed on his face, dead.
Nyssa kicked him over and retrieved her dagger, wiping it on the man’s clothes. She and Jara dragged him out and threw him at the bow railing.
“They can toss him overboard when they get underway,” she said and saw the rest of the group standing on the docks.
“Any trouble?” she asked them. They shook their heads.
“There is one captain up in the taproom,” said one man. She acknowledged the man’s statement and looked at Jara.
“It will be light soon. We need to hurry,” he said and they all ran back to the big building.
The Orak soldiers had corralled the people to the centre of the room where they could sit on the benches and tables together while they waited. They were scared and exhausted, but they seemed relieved. The man Nyssa had charged with finding a captain saw them when they entered and waved her over.
“This man says he can pilot one of the ships,” he said. The man, barely thirty and wearing the black and burgundy leather mail that signified he was from her father’s state army, nodded enthusiastically.
“You can navigate the coastline to southern Port Town?” Jara asked him firmly. Again, the man nodded in the affirmative.
“How many can one ship hold?” she asked him. He considered it.
“Twenty with light provisions,” he replied. “It’s a four-day journey on fair winds from here. No horses, just folk and food. Twenty is all she should handle.”
Nyssa considered this information and pulled Jara away.
“We should send a man with them and I’ll draw up the orders,” she said. Jara was looking around the room. He nodded that he heard her.
“There are twenty in here now,” he said and looked down to her. Nyssa turned around to count it herself.
“Colonel,” the woman who’d been with Carissa called to her. Nyssa turned and immediately went over.
The girl was no longer propped up and leaning on the bench. She’d slid sideways and was lying on the floor. Nyssa had been trying to understand when she suddenly moaned.
“I’ve been talking to her and trying to get her to tell me if anything hurts, but she says she’s fine. She just now fell over and I can’t get her to respond to anything I say,” her soldier said. Nyssa frowned; they hadn’t much time. She turned back to Jara.
“Get started loading everybody. Send someone to me with paper and quill when you can,” she ordered and he acknowledged and disappeared. Carissa moaned again, a low and sickly sound. Nyssa leaned over and brushed the girl's hair from her face. She didn’t seem conscious.
“Water,” she said to the soldier who been helping her. She stood up and dashed away.
Nyssa sighed and took stock of the room for a minute. The bodies of the dead had been piled in a corner, away from the survivors. She thought it odd too that Carissa was from another village. What did that say about the raiders? Again she heard the low moan.
“That girl is going to calve or die, probably both,” the old woman from before said. Nyssa hadn’t noticed her sitting there and was startled by her husky old voice.
“What?” Nyssa said, unsure of what she said. The woman pointed a bony finger at Carissa.
“That girl,” she repeated, more slowly, “she’s going to birth or die. Can’t you hear her?”
Nyssa’s head whipped back to see Carissa again, having no idea what to do. “What?” she said again stupidly. “How? How can you tell?”
The old woman rolled her eyes and sighed impatiently. “They teach you how to fight at that school but not what to do with your own womb, is that it?” she snarled at her.
Nyssa stared at her, completely stunned. The woman stood up, winced with pain but hobbled over to Nyssa. She shoved her aside and sat down on the bench beside Carissa. Nyssa resettled herself at her head, lifting it onto her lap. The old woman unceremoniously threw the girl's skirts up and over her waist. Nyssa couldn’t see it all, but there was a bare leg, dirty and bloody.
“What the hell is going on?!” Jara said from behind Nyssa suddenly and she jumped in surprise.
“The woman says she’s birthing, but she’s not conscious,” Nyssa explained, still holding the girl's arms on the bench to keep her from falling. Jara’s face turned violent.
“Nyssa, we have to go!” he bellowed at her.
“We can’t leave her!” she yelled back.
“And you can’t move her,” the old woman said, cackling a bit with laughter. Nyssa shot her a nasty glance.
“The boat is loaded. They are the last,” he pointed at Carissa and the old woman. He shoved a paper at her too.
“Well, I can take a hint,” the old woman said and rose unsteadily from the bench.
“You can’t leave!” she screamed at her. Jara was furious but not about to go against Nyssa with some old woman he didn’t know.
“Gravity, dear. That’s all she has left now! You don’t need me,” she said, but she had halted under Jara’s glare. Nyssa was about to vault over the table and strangle her. Jara held Nyssa down.
“Get her to the ship,” Jara said, calling a soldier over to help her. The woman shot Nyssa a sympathetic glance and left with her knight.
Jara turned to the soldier, who’d returned with water.
“Take over for a minute,” he told her.
She did so and Nyssa was free for only a split second before Jara shoved the paper in her hands. She nodded and unfolded it quickly to scribble her orders. She handed it back to him and he rushed to the fire to dribble the wax onto it. He grabbed her hand, not removing the ring, and jammed it down to seal it.
“Tell the ship to depart. Then bring our horses here. A full six in the company for escort from here,” he ordered the soldier, Nyssa had moved to take back Carissa’s shoulders. Jara handed the soldier the papers. She saluted and bolted from the building. Jara and Nyssa were alone with the pregnant woman. She heard Jara grumble.
“What do we do?” he said finally. The room was shockingly silent. Nyssa shook her head; she wanted to scream.
“Old hag,” she cursed after the woman. Nyssa felt Carissa’s body tense and relax under her, no moan this time.
“Nyssa, if it comes to it, we have to go. It’s nearing dawn now. We will not be able to hide in the light and we don’t yet understand their network. I will not risk your life for this woman’s. I will not,” he said behind her, though it was gentle. Nyssa nodded. She understood perfectly what he was saying.
“When the horses get here, that’s all I ask,” she said and turned her head, but she still couldn’t see him.
Nyssa saw his hands come up and take her place on Carissa’s shoulders. Nyssa nodded and he answered with his own so she let go. She grabbed the other blanket and balled it up to shove it underneath and between the girl's legs. Trying to think more about what to do, she put a hand on her lower back, took a deep breath and put her other one gently where she thought she should go. Her eyes flew open in panic.
“What?!” Jara exclaimed when he saw her face.
“It’s coming!” she said and yanked the blanket out. She went lower on her knees.
“Can you grab hold?” he asked her. Nyssa looked at him at a complete loss. She closed her eyes to concentrate. He waited what felt like a long time and sweat beaded on her forehead.
“Yes!” she said quietly but with conviction. She leaned back and put both hands under her. She bit her lip and held her breath. It was slippery and difficult to imagine. Nyssa couldn’t actually see anything. But she felt a head and tiny shoulders and she gripped under the arms and pulled the tiny body free.
Nyssa pulled the baby to her. Seeing the cord, she panicked.
“What do we do?” she said, still trying to hold the baby. Jara held Carissa by one hand and reached back for his dagger. He sliced it quickly. It bled, but he was able to put the woman down. When he did, he saw her face. He felt for a pulse. He shook his head.
“She’s gone,” he said quietly.
Nyssa stared at him. She had the baby, blood, mucus and dangling cord held tight up against her. Jara looked at her then, panic gripped his insides and rushed over the dead woman to get to her. Nyssa startled at him in surprise. He took the baby from her and started rubbing its back. The cord had stopped spurting, but the baby was blue. He brought it to his ear. Nyssa watched in shock.
“Colonel!” their escort called them. “Colonel, the light approaches and there are riders on the road!”
Jara snarled in frustration and grabbed Nyssa by the arm, nearly throwing her away from him so she’d stand.
“Go!” he yelled at her, but Nyssa stood staring at him in incomprehension. “Nyssa, GO!” he screamed at her again.
“I’m not leaving without him,” she yelled back, pointing at the infant in his arms. “He needs to be looked after!”
Jara stared at her. “He’s dead, Nyssa!” but he instantly regretted saying it to her right then. Nyssa lost her reality at that moment and he saw it.
“How do you know that?!!! What do you know about birthing babies?!” She launched herself at him, grabbing the infant from his hands and cradling him protectively.
“Nyssa...” he said, but the look in her eyes was dangerous. He couldn’t force her; she’d stab him if he tried. “Fine, we’ll take him with us. But he won’t make it if we linger here,” he said forcing the calm.
She glared at him but finally turned around and saw her cloak they’d used for his mother. She wrapped the infant in it and held him against her chest while she allowed Jara to lead them from the building.
Jara helped her mount Roan one-handed with the infant tucked into one arm. The group was anxious and alarmed, but she saw the one boat was gone, the other engulfed in flames. She raced after Jara, riding Roan back up the hill and onto the country track they’d rode in on. As they re-joined the bigger road that led back to their camp, the sun peaked over the horizon and the black smoke from the burning ship was visible from all directions.
Nyssa rode slowly through the camp and back up to her father’s tent. Brack stood behind Madras, waiting for their report. Nyssa’s mind had been processing the night’s experiences in the hours it took to make it to the safety of their camp. She’d heard Jara say the words and it had echoed in her head ever since, but the baby in her arms was too real. A dead baby isn’t a real thing, she kept thinking, and this baby was there, had weight in her arms.
But he never moved, never cried. Nyssa had heard stories that babies cried at birth and that you were supposed to rejoice because they were taking their first breaths. Why hadn’t this baby cried?
When Nyssa didn’t speak, Jara relayed the report. Brack, who had been eyeing Nyssa uncomfortably, walked up beside Roan.
“What have you there, Princess?” he asked her. Nyssa looked down at him.
“A baby boy. I delivered him,” she said simply. Brack flipped his eyes to Jara, who gave him a severe warning look to tread lightly. Brack understood.
“May I see him?”
Nyssa hesitated but then acquiesced and lowered the bundle to him. He took it very gently and bounced it a few times.
“Thank you, Princess,” he said warmly. “Why don’t you go and get cleaned up and rested? We’ll take good care of him for you,” he said.
Nyssa didn’t allow Jara to pull her reins at first, but eventually, she gave in. She was led past her father, who watched her go but as yet hadn’t anything to say.
Jara heard Brack urgently order a healer be brought to him, but he knew he was wasting his time.
“Nyssa, it is always an unfortunate thing, the death of a child,” Madras said after her.
Nyssa, who had been looking afar, unfocused, slowly did focus. Jara, the only person who knew best how his princess moved whether in battle or in his bed, saw it coming first and likely saved his king's life.
Nyssa rounded in her saddle and jumped directly out of it without so much as a kick from her stirrup. She was on the ground and aiming for her father’s throat like an arrow. Jara had jumped and caught her a millisecond after leaving his own saddle so she was yanked off her feet backwards when his arms came around her chest.
“HE IS NOT DEAD!!!” she screamed at him. Jara anchor-gripped her around the torso, but her legs kicked out toward her father again. “IT IS YOUR FAULT!!!!! HIS MOTHER IS DEAD AND IT IS YOUR FAULT!! DAMN YOU, DA!!!! DAMN YOU FOR HIS MOTHER! FOR MY MOTHER!!!”
Brack raced over and started helping Jara to remove her. She suddenly got free and she punched Brack with an upper cut to the face, his nose bursting with blood. Instantly, she stood still. She glared at him, looked back at her father. Tears covered her face, blood from the baby on her clothes and her hands. She stormed off in the opposite direction. Jara looked at Brack but just left him to go after her.
Nyssa ran from there, Jara trying to keep up, but she was a woman obsessed. When she stumbled, she was too exhausted to get up. He threw his cloak over her and wrapped her in it to contain her anyway, then fell over on his knees and hands to breathe or throw up.
Nyssa didn’t move anymore. She fell asleep suddenly and he wanted to move her, but he was too tired and they were a ways from their camp now. He lay down beside her, his face facing hers, and tried to imagine who she’d be when she woke up.
He drifted off but awoke what felt only seconds later. It was darker again, though, so he knew it had been hours. Nyssa was sniffling under her hair. He sat upright and moved it away for her, realizing her hands were still stuck in the cloak.
Nyssa looked frightened. He pulled her up to him, cradling her against his chest on his lap. She was sobbing.
“I need to see him,” she said. “Please, Jara, I need to hold him!”
Jara pulled her to him and just hugged her for as long as it took. When it subsided, he looked down and found she’d fallen asleep again. He leaned against a tree trunk and felt the weight of loss for one baby boy's life too. He was angry and full of hate, but he cried that he was grateful it hadn’t been her and theirs.