Since Bronwyn and Alaura had awakened this morning in each other’s arms with memories of the vivid dream they shared, neither had said much. The day passed better this way, he thought. If they didn’t talk, they didn’t argue.
By noon, they found themselves on a narrow road. Tall evergreens reaching to the sky lined the thoroughfare. Little birds whipped in and out of branches, playing a game of dare in front of Clover. The pony didn’t mind and only snorted if they passed too close.
Alaura fondly patted the mare on the shoulder. “They’re teasing you, girl.”
With his hands resting on his lap, Bronwyn observed the scenery and the little creatures popping out of the heavy shadows. Since breaking camp they had ridden steadily until they came upon the well-kept road about twenty minutes beforehand. He couldn’t imagine how far they had travelled, but he hoped they had chosen the right course. Occasionally roads made tracking difficult. Would Keiron go left or right? Fortunately, Keiron and his bandits acted carelessly, and as soon as they cleared the trees, they had steered their horses in this direction.
According to the map, this road took them into the northern part of the Dukedom of Dunakan. It led into the mountainous region and eventually to the desert.
A bird shot out from the trees, and Bronwyn watched as another followed. The feathered friends, no larger than crab apples, darted in and out of the branches. He waited for them to fly in front of Clover again, but they enjoyed their little dance of beating wings. Chests together, an inch apart, they flapped, rising and falling as if on the breeze. Bronwyn smiled at their antics. Did they play a game of tag or dance? Up and down they went, fluttering their wings, oblivious to the pair on the pony. When they descended to the ground, he realised the purpose behind the activity. He wondered which of the mating birds the male was.
They didn’t come together as he expected. One of them flitted along the roadside with the other in hot pursuit. When he saw the lead bird suddenly flip and flutter in front of the other then dart aside again before making contact, he identified the male: the one giving chase. The courtship continued for another minute before, together, they collapsed to the ground and joined. Amazed by the simplicity of the mating, Bronwyn sighed. Nature made it look easy.
Bronwyn noticed Alaura was also watching. At the same time, she realised he had witnessed the breeding. They both caught their breath and looked away. He recalled images and feelings from the dream they had shared through the Transfer Spell. They happened as vividly as anything he’d experienced while awake. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn they had joined. Had the mating birds made Alaura think of it, too?
Tempting a glance, he noticed she wore a bashful smile, probably as big as his. His arm encircled her waist, and he placed his large palm over her flat abdomen. It swayed with the motion of the pony. His thumb touched a spot below her right rib cage where a brown, grape-sized birthmark had appeared in the dream. He wondered if it truly existed or had his imagination conjured it. He rubbed the spot to see if he could feel a bump.
She slapped his hand and glared at him. The look on her face made him laugh, and he laid his forehead against her back. He felt her shake then heard her giggle. She wasn’t angry. Nature held more beauty than could be obtained with any riches, and reminded its creatures of the simplicity of living if they took the time to see. He would remember this for the future.
“I guess it’s what they mean when they say, As free as the birds.” He laughed so hard tears came to his eyes.
Alaura laughed, too. She put her hand over his, still on her abdomen, and held it there. He felt her relax. Maybe she’d promote him from captain of the guard after all.
A few minutes later, he felt her tap him on the knee. “What is it?”
She directed his attention to a spot further up the road. “I see a structure. It’s relatively high.”
He stretched around her to see where she pointed. A stone building poked its roof between the tree tops. It seemed to be about three storeys tall. “I think I saw it on the map.” From his pouch he withdrew the worn piece of leather he had found on the dead dwarf and traced his finger along the road. “There it is. It looks like a keep.” He held the map to the side to show her then returned it to his pouch.
“Shall we go in?”
“Can I steer?”
She frowned at him. “We’ve already had this discussion.”
“But I’m a man. It’s awkward for me to ride in on the back.” This logic didn’t seem to change her mind, so he used a different strategy. “What if they think I’m injured? A criminal might attack if they see a woman with a vulnerable guard from Aruam Castle.”
She halted Clover to think this excuse over. She glanced back at him. “Are you saying this simply to get in front?”
“I’m being logical,” he lied.
She turned and looked at the keep. No one would see them change positions at this distance.
Bronwyn waited. Would she? She answered his request by lifting her leg over the pommel, balancing in one stirrup and sliding her leg behind him. He helped her into the saddle, holding the reins steady. He fitted his boots into the stirrups and pulled himself forward. This felt more like it!
“Are you ready?” He glanced back as she adjusted her cloak. He felt Clover move beneath him and tried to steady her with the reins. He squeezed his legs, but the mare continued to prance.
Alaura reached in front and took the reins, slapping his leg as she did. “Stop squeezing. She’s a delicate animal who responds to a soft touch. You can’t yank on the reins or kick her.” She worked the leathers in a fluttering motion to calm the pony. “There you are, girl. He’ll be gentle.”
He looked down at her hands as they performed in front of him. There seemed to be more to handling this mare than he thought. He started to think it’d look better for him to arrive at the keep on the back of it than to be thrown from it for all to see.
“See how I maneuver the reins?” She fluttered them again to calm Clover.
“I do.”
“When you want her to move forward, flutter your reins ever so slightly and ask her to walk by squeezing your legs—Whoa! That’s too hard!” Clover lurched forward, but Alaura calmed her again. She held the reins in one hand and touched his lap.
Again he looked down. Her fingers rested awfully close to his groin. Her warmth made his skin tingle. He felt her press against his trousers.
“Feel the gentleness of my touch? It’s all the encouragement she needs to move forward.”
It’s all the encouragement I need! he thought.
“Do you understand? Your legs are very strong, and you don’t realise how hard you are.”
He chuckled. I know. Oh boy, do I know!
“If you can’t control Clover, I’m going to have to get back in front.”
Bronwyn grimaced. He finally sat in the command position; he wasn’t about to relinquish it. “I understand. Gentle. I get it.” He felt her stare and glanced back. “What?”
“Get moving.” Alaura wrapped her arms around his waist as if she expected him to lose control of Clover and race down the road.